#they are literally childhood friends. she knows him so well. she's like oh I bet you'd be a good poet and so he goes and writes some poetry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thevelria · 8 months

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Blood and Poker - Call me when you are ready to date me (SFW/mafia!Gojo x pokerplayer!fem!reader)

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Summary: You and your friends go to a casino to have some fun. Since you used to be a pro player you keep winning at the table which gets the attention of the owner. He tries to find out that you are a cheater or a genius.

Author's note: I love poker, I love casinos, I love mafia and I love Gojo. Simple as that lol

Warnings: no warnings.

WordCount: 1.9K

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Sliding into your black heels and fixing your tight, mid-thigh long dress before you actually stepped out of your apartment. “I’m on my way, Shoko.” you clicked your tongue. Your childhood friend sometimes was a bit too much but you loved her anyway. “Yes, exactly. I’m literally opening the door downstairs. I already see you.” you started to wave while canceling the call.

“You are late.” she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, c’mon… 3 minutes.”

“You are still late.” she teased. “Nah, get in the car. Utahime and Meimei are already waiting for us.”

“What about the boys?” you asked as you buckled the safety up.

“Nanami picks Haibara up and they come with Kento’s car.”

And what is all the fuss about, you may ask? It was a tradition. You’ve been friends since high school and stuck together even if you grew up. Even when you were at different unis and started to work at different workplaces. All of you gathered in the town twice a year. Once for a nice dinner before Christmas and once for a wasted gambling night in the Spring. Since it was April you were eager to meet your friends and let out all the stress, get wasted and probably win some money.

It’s been a few years now that you stopped your career as a professional poker player. On a night like this you were able to feel the tension once again, to feel the adrenalin crawling up in your body and you let it spread in your veins. You had a perfect, so-called poker face. No one could read your emotions and you made advantage of that skill whenever you needed to.

All of you met in front of the entrance, between kisses, hugs and howareyous you looked up for a blink and saw the big neon letters “GOJO”. This casino entered your town not long ago and you were more than happy to give it a try.

As soon as you stepped in the girls aimed for the bar.

“The usual?” Utahime asked you.

“Yes, honey. Thank you. I’ll be over at the…”

“Poker table.” Meimei finished your sentence giggling.

“You know me too well.” you laughed.

Yu joined the girls, while Kento decided to escort you to the table you just picked randomly.

“Tonight is my night, girl.” he leaned closer to you as soon as you took a seat. “I’m gonna win all your sweet money. It will be a perfect revenge for last year’s disaster.”

“You wish, sweetheart.” you petted his thigh. “You wish.”

Round after round you won the pot and kept gathering Kento’s chips, just as the other two player’s, too. Your friend was getting more and more impatient and probably irritated.

“Fuck…” he hissed. “I’m out.” he rolled his eyes the second you raised the bet on the river. After an hour or so Kento was lacking his chips, maybe they were enough for 2 or 3 more rounds.

***

“Boss, I need you to come with me please.” Yuuta bowed slightly before Gojo.

“What’s the matter?” he frowned. The head of security called him only when there was something off.

“I think there might be a cheater at one of the poker tables.” he sat down in the security room in front of the countless screens which gave them access to see everything in the casino. “Look! Do you see it at table 7? She keeps winning for one and a half hours straight. There’s no way she doesn’t count the cards…” he shook his head irritated. “Do you want me to kick her out?”

Gojo stepped closer, rubbing his thumb and index finger up and down on his jaw. “Hmm…” he growled as he stared at you. “I will handle her myself.” he spun on his heels and left the room. “Let’s see if you are a cheater or a genius, darling.” he smirked as he hurried his steps towards your table.

***

“Oh, c’mon!” Nanami threw his hands into the air. “I know you’re bluffing, girl. I’m sure!”

“Am I?” you poked your tongue against your inner cheek.

“Go, sweety, go!” Yu cheered for you from behind, sitting at a normal table, sipping his drink. He and the girls took a break and decided to watch the painful execution of Nanami Kento’s wallet.

“Shut your mouth, Haibara!” hissed the blonde haired man, as he pushed his glasses back up on his nose.

“Show me what you got.” you smiled after the river. At this time only you and him stayed at the table, everyone else gave up and left.

“I win this. I know I do.” he smirked and flashed a full house with Aces full of Kings.

“My sweet, Kento, my sweet sweet Kento.” your voice sounded warm and nice which sent shivers down his body.

“What?! WHAT?!” he clenched his jaw. “If you dare to tell me that…”

“Four of a kind…” you revealed your cards “Queens.” you chuckled a bit as the dealer repeated the result and pushed all the chips to you.

“Fuck off! Seriously, just fuck off, girl!” he took a desperately huge breath.

“Good evening.” a husky voice interrupted the little act at the table. “May I join? It seems this pretty lady is getting lucky, so I would like to try mine, too” the snow white haired man said politely. You missed the quick glance the dealer gave to his boss.

“There’s no luck in this, sir.” you rolled your eyes offended. “I’m simply good at this game.”

He raised his index finger as he took a seat, signing he wanted to join the game anyway.

“If you are an enemy of your own wallet, you can join us.” Nanami hummed.

The cards were dealt and everyone made the bet. You tried to read your newest opponent but him wearing dark sunglasses gave you a hard time.

“You’re staring.” he smirked.

“I know.” you raised one of your eyebrows.

Kento wanted to show off, even if he was terrible at any card games. Everyone knew it except him. He clicked his tongue, so you already knew he actually had something in his hand. You were holding a 7,2 off, so you dropped them without hesitation. There was no way on Earth you would try anything risky with the most horrible combination you could get.

As you kept staring at the handsome man next to you, he slightly pulled his sunglasses off, flashing his mesmerizingly blue eyes. “Holy fuck!” you thought to yourself.

Kento wasn’t paying attention, he was sure this time he was going to win the pot. So he of course missed the cheeky wink his opponent gave you before pushing the glasses back up. You bit your lower lip, because even if it was clearer than the sun you couldn’t say a single thing. You rather tried to find out what he could hold. According to the cards on the table after the river you had two possibilities in mind.

“All in.” he pushed all his chips to the middle of the table.

“Call!” snapped Kento without even thinking for a second.

“Fuck, Nanami!” you shook your head angrily. “How can you be this stupid!”

“Easy, girl. I got this…” he smirked, flashing his cards. “Four of a kind, Aces.” he kept raising his eyebrows up and down. But the fact his opponent pulled a tiny smile told you more than enough.

“He has a fucking straight flush, Kento. Why can’t you read the freaking cards?” you hummed a bittersweet laugh.

“How did you know…” he frowned as he showed the Queen and King of hearts in his hand. The dealer placed them right next to the rest of the cards in the middle of the table and called him the winner.

“Don’t worry.” you turned to Nanami. “I’m gonna win your money back.” you winked at him.

“Will you?” your opponent chuckled. “By the way I’m Satoru.” he offered his hand for a shake.

“Nice to meet you.” you nodded.

“It’s my pleasure to play with a woman like you.” he tried to smooth talk.

“Stop flirting and make the bet.” you pretended to yawn.

Gojo pulled his hand back and slightly smiled. Your cheeky attitude amazed him.

As you promised your friend after a few rounds you had all the chips.

“Your girlfriend is very very talented.” he turned to Nanami.

“Girlfriend? Her? I would never ever date her…” he bursted out in a loud laughter.

You punched him hard in the shoulder. “Asshole.”

“You see?” Nanami tilted his head a bit.

“Only a fool wouldn’t date a beautiful lady like her.” he looked you in the eyes. That was the moment he got your attention.

***

Gojo had no intention in telling you he was the owner of the place, rather he invited you for a drink at the bar. You stepped to your friends and promised them you were going to be back soon.

“Girl! Don’t be ridiculous!” Meimei chuckled. “This guy is hot as fuck. Go get him.”

“A Gin-tonic, please.” you sat down at the bar.

“Actually, two.” Gojo took a seat next to you.

The second you wanted to pay for your drink the bartender smiled and said “It’s on the house, miss.”

You were surprised but didn’t turn down the free drink. Satoru started to ask you questions about your skill and you ended up telling him your story.

“I used to be a pro player.” you pulled a painful smile. “But I had to quit and since then I rarely play.”

“You are full of surprises, I am honestly amazed.”

The hours flew by and even if you had fun it was time to end the night.

“The casino has hotel rooms as well.” Gojo offered it smoothly.

“Thanks.” you stood up and placed your palm on his shoulder. “But I don’t do one night stands anymore.”

He smirked at your comment and grabbed a business card in his pocket, handing it to you as he stood up as well. “I’m not interested in one night stands either. Call me when you are ready to date me.” he gave a quick kiss on your cheek and left.

You stared at the card in your hand and frowned, because you were sure you'd seen his name somewhere. As you walked out of the building and turned around there it was. The huge neon letters “GOJO” right above the entrance flashed into your face. You grabbed your phone right away and sent him a text message.

“Why didn’t you say you own this whole place?”

“Does it matter?” he texted you back almost immediately.

You hummed a laugh, because he made a point. “No, actually it does not matter.”

***

The next morning you were woken up by your ringing phone.

“Yeah?” you picked up, being barely awake.

“So, are you ready to date me, yet?” Gojo’s husky voice made you smile.

“Uhm…” you had no idea what to say.

“I’ll pick you up at 7 sharp.” he hung up.

“Well, it seems I’m gonna have a date tonight.” you blinked a few times before a question popped in your mind. “Wait! How the hell does he know my address?”

You had no idea that Gojo Satoru wasn’t only an owner of a casino. No. He was the head of one the biggest mafia families in the whole country.

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mikalara-dracula · 1 year

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When the Sakamakis were children [IRL photos + hcs]

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor and aren't comfortable with mentions of childhood fears/trauma. This is a fictional work and should not be taken seriously.

Caution: Unfortunately, Tumblr has a history of admins quarreling over completing carbon copy asks due to users sending the same request(s) to multiple admins, thus, resulting in unintentional plagiarism. With this, please DO NOT send the same request to multiple blogs as it can cause unintended plagiarism discord to other blogs across Tumblr. The word “plagiarism” stems from the early 17th-century Latin word, “plagiarius,” meaning “kidnapper.” So please, do not send in the same request to multiple blogs and make admins appear to be “kidnapping” other people’s work when it isn’t their intention. If this is to occur with any of my posts, please contact me so we can work something out.

Made with: @liannelara-dracula

Figured I'd put side-by-side photos for better comparison to real life and the anime.

Shu

Started practicing violin a lot as a kid, but it was honestly a hobby to him. And this is probably when his love for classical music began.

He also started learning piano too. He has a natural talent for both, but violin came easier to him.

Began learning fencing as a child. (I have a post about Shu and Reiji hcs if anyone is interested. Click/tap here to check it out.)

Shu used to be taller than Reiji as a kid, but this changed later on.

Read poetry as a child and Beatrix also forced him to write some of his own so he’d develop the skill since the heir had to know how to do something finesse.

Since he’s the heir, he was expected to attend special balls and gatherings with Reiji by his side.

And here, you can best bet he was introduced to potential suitresses he would have to choose sometime later, but Beatrix thought it didn’t hurt for Shu to be introduced early.

She honestly hoped he’d become friends with one of his suitresses as children so they could grow up together and later be married.

It’s canon that Shu has a fear of clowns.

This fear probably resulted from Ayato and Laito jumping at him out of nowhere when they were kids, and scared him by wearing clown masks.

It’s also canon that he’s afraid of caterpillars.

This fear probably developed in his childhood through Reiji putting one in Shu’s tea once, and he’s been traumatized since due to Reiji’s scheming.

It’s canon that he knows Latin, so he probably started studying it when he was a child. Beatrix figured it’d be better for him to get familiarized with the human world since Karl was well accustomed, so through Shu being the heir, you can imagine Beatrix expected him to be very knowledgeable like Karl.

It’s canon that Shu used to sneak out as much as he could to get away from the castle.

Although, he would sometimes get caught by the servants who would immediately force him to come back and he’d be delivered to his mother for scolding.

But some servants looked the other way and let Shu go out and explore, mostly because they felt bad from how much pressure was on him as the heir.

When he met Edgar, he used to sneak out a lot to go see him.

In the manga, Shu said that he worked harder in his studies so he could finish them early and go have time to see Edgar.

Their friendship was so cute. :))

Had his first kiss at 13 (at least he looked 13) with some nobleman’s daughter since he was at the age of being curious as to what that would feel like.

Was quite close with some of his nannies and servants, at least the ones who let him get away with things his mother wouldn’t allow.

Reiji

Oh my gosh, look at our lil Rei. He was so cute as a kid. (Tbh, they all were.)

Apart from this, unfortunately, Reiji was alone for most of his childhood.

Read a lot as a kid, either for school or personal research.

Has gotten into literal fights with Shu, such as both them tackling each other and battling it out.

It usually took several servants to pry them apart.

They once ended up falling into a mud puddle during their fight and Beatrix was so pissed off that their suits had been soiled. You can bet her scolding was quite brutal and never-ending about this.

Probably started learning chess around this time as well. Lil Rei honestly found it interesting since it involved strategy, something that’s right up his alley.

His fear of ghosts probably developed as a child since he was always lonely, especially through always sleeping in his room alone as a kid and being considered foolish by his mother if he sought comfort.

It’s canon in one of the game routes that Reiji developed a healing cream formula as a child to aid vampires. So we can see how advanced his chemistry skills were even as a child.

Because there was a lot of pressure on him as a child by his mother he felt the need to perfect things so he was always practicing all his manners, tea pouring, dancing, and fencing skills.

He usually asks his servants to assist him and correct him if needed.

This is also why he is so good at dancing when it comes to the waltz.

It doesn’t surprise me if he had a maid/servant who used to help him practice.

At balls and events that he attended with Shu, he always tried to make a better impression than his brother, mostly because he just wanted to be acknowledged.

It’s canon that Reiji used to spy on Shu in hopes of catching him doing something un-heir-like so he could report it to his mom and get Shu scolded so he could be viewed as the more “mature” child.

He used to have tea time with his mother because she’d want to know what was going on with Shu.

Reiji at first thought it was because she wanted to spend time with him but he later learned that these tea times were only to know what Shu was up to and if he was misbehaving or hiding anything.

Still, Reiji did what he was asked because he figured he could possibly get the chance to tell his mother some news about his discoveries or something interesting.

However, it was always short-lived because she used to change subjects and always focus on Shu.

This is also why Reiji prefers to be alone because he could never have one conversation with her, without her not mentioning his older brother.

All our lil Rei wanted was a friend who would listen to him 😭.

Laito

It’s canon that Laito once stuck candy wrappers into Shu’s pocket to not get the blame for eating them. Shu’s still pissed at Laito for this since he ended up getting the blame along with getting scolded by Reiji.

Definitely developed his fear of bugs as a kid.

Ayato used to chase Laito around the courtyard with a bug in his hand and would try to get it on him.

He used to run around the mansion shirtless.

But also used to run around naked in the castle with his brothers.

Always took baths with his two little brothers, and he and Ayato always use to tease Kanato by pouring cold water on him or by stealing his bath toy.

This usually resulted in Kanato crying.

But sometimes they were nice to him and washed his hair since they felt bad. So they used to take turns washing each other’s hair.

Laito and Ayato always bribe Kanato with candy so they dare him to touch Reiji’s shoulder while he’s reading without being noticed or to mess with the cooks in the kitchen.

This way they can get a laugh out of it.

Laito used to have the servants read him bedtime stories before going to bed every night.

Kanato

Aww, isn’t he cute.

Let’s just pretend the bby in the photo on the right is Teddy lol.

It’s honestly funny how both are positioned in the same way.

Kanato wasn’t entirely alone during his childhood.

He mostly spent his time with Ayato and Laito, but sometimes he preferred to be alone.

Used to have pillow/stuffed animal fights in his room with Ayato and Laito. And they would usually end with pillows/stuffed animals ripping, causing a big cloud of fluff to explode about them.

Used to steal sweets from the castle's kitchen and was an expert at hiding it.

Little Kanato would usually sneak out of his room after everyone had been put to sleep and would sneak into the kitchen to grab a bite of whatever sweets the castle had prepared for tomorrow.

He once colored on the castle walls because he was so bored. Cordelia was so mad, but Karl honestly didn’t care since he claimed his son was expressing himself. Until this day, that wall remains with that design.

It’s canon that Kanato used to sing “Scarborough Fair” to Cordelia when he was a kid. He honestly had a natural talent for singing and finds it nice to sing on his own every so often as seen in the anime.

His brothers used to tease him about his height and he’d get sad and would claim that one day he’d be taller.

Sometimes Kanato would have nightmares as a kid. So he’d end up going to either Laito or Ayato’s room and crawl into their beds for comfort. Aww :’))

He used to be afraid of lighting as a kid.

He had a childhood crush once and Laito and Ayato teased him endlessly about it.

Used to finger paint with Laito and Ayato and they used to tease him by taking their fingers and dabbing their fingers on his nose to get paint on it. It would always make him upset.

Our poor little baby.

Ayato

Ayato usually spent his time with Kanato and Laito, but mostly Laito since sometimes Kanato wanted to be on his own.

Ayato once spent a lot of time with Kanato and Laito building this little motor that they could drive around.

Ayato decided to test it once inside the castle with Kanato and Laito.

And it actually worked! Ayato was having a lot of fun test-driving it around, and Kanato and Laito cheering him on and begging to have a turn.

But this was until Cordelia stopped Ayato and told him to go to his room for acting foolish.

In the end, their little motor ended up disappearing, and they later discovered that Cordelia had it burned.

It’s canon that Ayato took violin lessons as a kid, but this didn’t last long until Cordelia ended up breaking Ayato’s violin during her freakouts, to which his lessons ended. And he was honestly happy to get out of them.

Ayato always used to play monkey in the middle with Laito and Kanato. And you can best bet that Kanato was the monkey in the middle.

Kanato would always complain that he could never catch the ball and would throw tantrums about this.

Tbh, this hasn’t changed since the triplets play it like this until now lmao. xDD

Used to jump off the manor’s couches with Kanato and Laito with a cape and pretended he could fly.

Apparently, it’s canon that Ayato is afraid of bees. So with this, he probably developed this trauma because he got stung once when he was a kid and never got over it.

He used to grab little mice and release them into the kitchen because all the female cooks were afraid of them.

He used to get a kick out of it every time the cooks would start freaking out and throwing pots and pans and chasing them out with a broom.

He’s even done this to his aunt Beatrix but not his mom, he was too afraid. He knew she’d instantly catch on to it being him and suffer tremendous punishment for it.

Subaru

He was alone a lot of the time too.

As we know, Christa gave Subaru that silver knife he always carries around.

Whenever he was bored as a kid, he’d sometimes used it to carve or engrave things, or even weave bracelets.

He had a childhood crush! It was a girl (a child vampire like him) from a noble family that would sometimes come to court.

She was around his age and was pretty social. She noticed him at one of the gatherings and began hanging out with him since she found the gatherings boring.

So, they both would go outside since Subaru hates crowds himself. And from there, they developed a pretty cute and innocent friendship.

She actually got our little bby car to lighten up and would tag him out of nowhere so he could chase her around the courtyard.

And it was through this that Subaru developed a crush on her.

Sooner than later, he even went as far as carving his and her initials into a tree in the courtyard.

Their friendship lasted a good while throughout the years and through having such a connection, Subaru secretly swore that he’d marry her when they were of age.

But this all changed when the girl was forced to marry another suitor that was presented to her.

This left him pretty disappointed, but he figured it would end this way because he always thought it was too good to be true since he was raised to think he was “filthy.”

Used to engage in a bit of pottery making and he gave some of his works to his mom, which she gladly appreciated when she wasn’t having a mental breakdown.

Subaru keeps his little pottery works until now stashed somewhere hidden in his room so his brothers won’t find them.

And he can’t bring himself to throw them away despite part of him wanting to since he finds them foolish now. Whatever the case, he figures as long as his brothers don’t see nor find them, he’ll keep them.

Played tag with the triplets sometimes.

Would sometimes hang out with Shu, but it was rare.

They’d sometimes go on walks together in the courtyard or even carve things together, like a piece of wood from a nearby tree.

Shu once tried to teach Subaru violin, but it was a disaster.

Unfortunately, it was so bad that it was overheard by the entire castle ground and it resulted in a lot of people complaining. So with that, he never tried it again.

Despite this though, he still considered Shu his favorite brother since Shu never bothered him in an annoying way and was the only one who made an attempt to hang out with him every so often.

It’s canon that Subaru likes Kanato’s singing. Since Kanato used to sing to Cordelia when he was a child, Subaru probably overheard Kanato sing to Cordelia in the courtyard sometimes since he spent a lot of time there himself, and grew an admiration from there on out.

Subaru would sometimes use his knife to cut roses and bring them to his mom when she was feeling okay. It always brought a smile to her face.

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zaungwrites · 5 months

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I wrote a thing

Was trying to just stretch my writing muscles after months of not. Inspired by Nora dipping back into Exy, and poked at a fic I was trying to write set at Edgar Allen. It took me a couple goes, but I'm p happy with the tone and characterisation of Link.

On the way home to and from college, Link has to walk by Castle Evermore. He holds his breath for the time it takes to move past it and is ever so careful to keep his eyes averted. Every time, he wonders why his aunt chose to live so close to the exy court when they both know of her mostly ambivalence, sometimes hatred of the game and the place. Why she chooses to work for an institution that tried its best to bleed her dry.

Then again, he supposes she probably wonders why he would choose to study in a place that reveres a game that had equally ruined his childhood. They are a little similar that way, like to pick at cuts and press on bruises. Reminders that they remain in one piece despite everything.

"Hey! Link!"

His head jerks up and for a moment his heart is racing. He is still unused to too loud noises and his name being yelled brings memories he would rather burn to ashes. His therapist tells him he might never be rid of his body's response which seems pretty pessimistic for a therapist but what does he know.

His eyes register that it's only Jack, one of his few friends in college, but his heart takes a little longer to catch up. Breathing slow and deep like his therapist taught him, Link summons a smile. "Hey, didn't see you there."

Jack jogs up to him and slings an arm around his shoulder with a wide grin. Link has trained his body's reaction to stop flinching to touches but it never fails to make his freeze or fawn response flair up. He makes his smile wider and makes his mouth say, "What's up? You're looking way too happy for first day of class."

"We won the Kariya lottery, dude. Everyone's hyped."

"The what?"

Jack lets out a theatrical sigh. "One day I'll make an exy fan out of you. Benjamin Kariya, this generation's exy jesus chose Edgar Allen as his college of choice. There was literally thousands of money betting on where he'd go. Everyone thought he'd go to the Trojans or somewhere with, you know, a fucking chance. But for some fucking reason, and like I'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, he's chosen here. Everyone's going nuts."

"Oh," says Link, unsure of what else to say.

Jack doesn't notice his reticence. He's a good friend, but not the most observant. Probably why Link likes him actually, it's nice to talk to someone who thinks his fucked up maladaptive responses to things is just him being quirky.

"The whole fucking summer that's all people were talking about. News literally came out last night. Shit, it's gonna be so fucking surreal to see him around campus."

Link makes a noise that he hopes conveys agreement. The name is familiar, he probably heard about the guy in passing back when he used to care about exy. Now all he can think is this probably means exy will become more of a fucking thing than it was before. And it was a pretty big thing even with Edgar Allen regularly placing last in the division for the past five years.

"Well," Link says with a trace of irony, "Maybe the team might become known for more than possible mobster connections."

"Hey, that was never proven."

"Yeah, okay," Link says with a shrug. Sure, never proven. That's why his aunt got a squirelly look the one and only time Link asked her about it. Whatever, not like it's going to affect Link's life.

He's spent two years so far avoiding exy and exy avoiding him, he just has to keep his head down and get through the next two. Then he could go be a fucked up adult somewhere else.

Easy.

-----

Who wants to guess that it won't be that easy and that Benjamin might make more of an appearance in Link's life? I actually have another snippet that I'm pretty happy with that I might post later? Dunno. As always credit to Nora for creating this world.

#Exy #nora sakavic #my writing #Fucked up bois and their fucked up emotions #aftg #all for the game

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rosietrace · 1 year

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*knocks on your window* Zenith's thoughts on JiUiAoRen??

HEHEHEHE, YOU BET >:)

Zenith Devi, Eccentric "nymph"

{ His opinion on: Jiyoon Lockhart }

Respects her! A friend of Tori's is a friend of his!

He likes that Jiyoon has a good relationship with Victoria and that the latter is making more friends (since during their childhood, they only really had each other).

He thinks that this... "Korean" or whatever it's called is super interesting. And if given the chance, he'd like to learn the language!

I feel like to help Jiyoon focus on her writing more, Zen would go to the nearest instrument and play whatever the fuck he wants in the most ✨elegant✨ way possible.

Though Jiyoon should probably stay clear of Zen when he's very pissed off. Specifically when it involves someone talking badly about her fellow pomefiore resident, Victoria.

Zen, despite not looking like it, is labeled as "astronomically violent" when someone offends him, or Tori. During his time in RSA he ended up earning the moniker of "skull cracker" for hospitalizing quite the number of students.

All in all, they'd get along really well! Just- Be sure not to get too close when observing Zen in "skull cracker" mode-

♛____________________________________♛

{ His opinion on: UiO }

Oh the chaos these two would cause-

Definitely an instant friendship when you put aside Zen's cautiousness when he first met them, alongside his... Judgemental nature-

When he found out they're equally as interested in Malleus and Victoria's dynamic, that was probably when the friendship started XD I guarantee you that they already have a manuscript for their fanfiction centering around them-

Unless the answers are personal, Zen will happily answer whatever questions UiO will ask! But hopefully she won't pry too much once he offhandedly mentions his mother during their conversation.

Its not that his mother was a bad person, moreso the fact that... He really misses her and doesn't really like being asked about her. So hopefully UiO will understand to not ask any questions regarding Ekta(his mother).

Any personal questions they might end up asking will end up being swept under the rug for a completely different topic. Outside of his mother, Zen keeps a lot of secrets and most of them are already known by Victoria.

But aside from that, 100/10 friendship ^^

♛_____________________________________♛

{ His opinion on: Aori }

Also gets along with him! Zen would even offer to help simplify any of the terms Victoria uses during his etiquette lessons with her.

Hell, maybe Zen would offer to help him practice some musical instruments! If Aori wants to, of course. No pressure from Zen whatsoever ^^

Zen likes it that there are more people in Victoria's life who doesn't see her as all that intimidating, just like him.

He finds it endearing on how much Aori admires her and regularly praises her because well- Zen's aware of the lack of praise she received when she was younger.

So for the most part, they get along really well and would gladly sing praises to Victoria-

♛_____________________________________♛

{ His opinion on: Miren Lockhart }

Man's was confused asf when he saw Miren try and avoid conversation with him and Vic-

But then Jiyoon explained that Miren has a specific reason on why he doesn't really like faes and suddenly it all makes sense.

At first, Zen didn't know how to feel about Miren. But he was unsurprisingly annoyed when he avoided conversation with Victoria. Reasons for disliking fae be damned, HE AIN'T EVEN A FAE AND JUST TRY AND TALK TO TORI FOR ONCE YOU LITTLE SHI-

Anyway- When he ended up stumbling upon Miren literally having a conversation with Malleus, a fae, man's was about to throw hands at the irony of it all.

Like- If you can talk to Malleus, you can talk to Zen's bestie, Miren XD

Much like Tori, Zen would try and approach Miren in a less intimidating way but ended up looking way more intimidating than Victoria in the process- creepy but menacing smiling

Hopefully they'll get along more, especially since they both got off on the wrong foot-

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boypussydilf · 1 year

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I M,EANT TO SEND YOU AN ASK LAST NIGHTBUT I FELL ASLEEP. AND THEN I WAS GONNA SEND YOU ONE EARLIER BUT THEN I HAD TO GO DO SOMETHING AND FORGOT. I CAN FINALLY FREAKING SEND YOU ONE BUT YOURE IN POST LIMIT HELL SO I GUESS YOU CAN ANSWER THIS LATER BUT TELL ME ABOUT THE BLUE FROG FREAK. DORORO? I DONT HAVE THEIR NAMES DOWN YET. THE DAD ONE

IT HAPPENS. i live *covered in blood* I love Lance Corporal Dororo. Everyday I wake up in a dream that never ends because of my undying love for him. If that’s a problem for you, then you can go to hell. I LOVE Dororo.

hope none of that is too hard to read i had uh, Thoughts. thinking about it this dude is probably like… THE. ultimate favorite character. of all time. he fundamentally altered my brain chemistry and i would do anything in the world for him.

so like, dororos family is super rich. thats literally why he n keroro became friends in the first place, bc they went to the same Military Prep Elementary School and one time keroro went to dororos house and saw that his family was LOADED and that he had all the COOL toys so he immediately went WERE FRIENDS RIGHT? so he could hang out w dororo to play w the cool toys. and dororo had had very few friends in his life before that so he went Yeah of course! and then spent his entire childhood doing pretty much whatever keroro asked so they would stay friends. but anyway, i don’t think his family being rich counts for anything at present, since he’s on earth, and i dont know if he like… has. any money. that is viable on earth. he must get some money somehow since he & koyuki like, have a house and are alive? but she doesn’t seem to have like, a job or anything, and i doubt he steals from the invasion budget so like. i dont know where the money comes from and there can’t be very much of it.

ALSO I OOVE THAT THE BLORBO BLINGUS ASK GAME LETS ME THINK ABT CHARACTERS PLAYING MINECRAFT. I know dororo canonically knows how to use a computer bc i just rewatched the episode where the platoon tries to make their own anime today and he uses a computer to do the coloring digitally but like. Dororo does not know how to use a computer. He first learned about stuff on earth from koyuki who spent half her life in a completely isolated village and only got out after she met him and he hasn’t branched out much since. I don’t know if we ever see him play video games or anything like that. I don’t think he would know how to do that. I think the tiny crappy radio he & koyuki have is the most technology hes comfortable with. “i don’t really like using these computers they freak me out” “Dororo you’re from a society with technology way more advanced than this. which you use.” “yeah well this is different”

Anyhow point is i want to see the keroro platoon play minecraft. Dororo keeps trying to build peaceful little houses with nice farms and they keep getting accidentally blown up or burnt down by everyone else. Tamama is in the caves trying to befriend slimes and when he finds out he can’t he just starts killing them en mass. Everyone goes to check out what Kururu is doing and he’s made one of those fully functional redstone computers, for fun.

ALSO ID ALWAYS CALLED DORORO KOYUKIS DAD BUT I NEVER REALLY REALIZED WOW HE LEGIT DOES ACT LIKE IT HUH. hi welcome home how do you like your new school :) its so sweet… i bet he has like 3 backup plans for attempting to homeschool her if anything happens that keeps her from going to public school. i bet they make lunches together. god, this is sweet, but also really funny to imagine, because he is less than 2 feet tall, and round. i watched an episode today that starts w koyuki coming home and dororo is just on the ground loudly sobbing and shes like oh did you fight with your friends again? and then thinking about friends makes her flashback to her childhood best friend & when she met dororo So Hard that she just falls asleep. while hes still there on the floor loudly crying about how he wonders if keroro even considers him a friend. theyre so funny

ok i guess thats all thanks for coming to my dororo talk <3 This post is so long. Tee hee!

#basilask #keron wa uchuu ichi… tabun #i think it can joining the military for trauma

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versadies · 2 years

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Hello Dan, (not you father... I should stop with the dad jokes— AYYYY👈👈)

Okay, this will be a long ass but I'll try to make it straight to the point and complete. So be prepare as I put my heart and souls on this ask. 👁️👁️

I'm a sucker for childhood friends to lovers Au and mY GOD— Do I fall in love the fact that we save Thoma from the bullies and y/n and Thoma become best of friends after that, even though Thoma is pining for y/n already which makes it more better. 😊❤️❤️❤️

But you dare hurt our boi Thoma, huh? 🙃

Ayato, why the fck your dating y/n anyways if something about "your sister will get an arrange marriage and then you'll help her by getting yourself in an arrange marriage because you love your sister", Hm?? 😊🔪🔪 🔪

I get that you want be selfish for once in your life, but what you did was shtty. I'll hate you for that forever. And that poor women Chiisato(?) she genuinely loves you yet you kept the fact that you have a past lover and broke up with them for only... A few days ago???!

Ayato being rich, perfect, handsome— BULL SHT. Thoma your perfect for just being you!!!

Honestly, the whole arrange marriage exist because Chiisato's father wants like power of both companies right? WELL FCK THAT! You need no man or arrange marriage to make your companie successful! You can be a strong, independent, boss girl Chiisato! You no need Midato!!! 😤🔥🔥🔥

JUSTICE FOR CHIISATO GUYS!!! 😭 ✊✊✊

I'll bet my ass she'll btch slap the hekk of Ayato when she fines out about between Ayato and y/n, go girl runn!!!! 🏃🏻‍♀️ 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

End of Ayato slander rant.

So... We met Diluc before huh? That's very lovely. I would love to see more interaction with him soon. It was so sweet of us to return his father's pocket watch! 😍😍 😍

I love the fact Thoma still loves us regardless of us being together with Ayato and still care about us as a best friend or lover(if possible). Guys, that unconditional love right there, they will be there for you in your worse and good times, will push aside their need to help you with yours (of course you better do the same thing). THOME BE A WHOLE PACKAGE AND KEEPER YO!! 😭 💞💞💞

Okay done.

Oh and Dan? Best fanfic I ever read in my entire life. I can't really express much how much I love everything about it but I'm sure other of your followers have better way of expressing it. 😊

Thank you, love and I hate you /hj

you putting sm effort into this is literally enough for me to know how much you love this series HELPPPP – im really flattered and happy that you took the time to do this, it means a lot esp since this is literally my first series ever and i was nervous it'll suck AHSKHSH

honestly when it comes to thoma, all i could think about was childhood friends to lovers au, and i wanted to put that in his interlude and that's what i did <3333

i honestly just think it didn't hit ayato that his sister will have to go to an arranged marriage until his parents brought it up, and i remembered his voiceline about how he didn't want ayaka to be in a political marriage so i took that reason (however this does not justify his actions for hurting y/n) as well as his undying love for his family, so overall he really just chose his family over y/n :(((

as for chisato..... i have no statement for her /gen, like idek what to say about her HELP AHAHSKHAK

between me and you, diluc's interaction was literally a last-minute plan when i was writing the fic. i thought it would be great if i added a small snippet of reader actually meeting the one (and ehe, let's just say this part is sort of important)

im glad you noticed that!!!!! i made sure to emphasize thoma's loyalty and he's indeed super loyal to us <333

your words made me smile a lot !! i'll sleep a lot better knowing that not only i made people go crazy over the angst, but also how people like you showed your love to my series <333 it means a lot to me !!!

thank you, continue suffering and loving this series /hj

#— ( chatting with penpals 😌 )#— ( about . evermore )

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vynegar · 1 year

Text

enduring light SSRs liveblog thread, will be updated as i read. screenshots and spoilers!

luke

adfjdaskj the card animation is so crazy there’s just so much motion in there xDDD

oh it’s set right before college graduation... rosa and luke will finally be able to graduate together :’) surely everything will go smoothly for them after graduating

MC HAD EXCELLENT MATH GRADES SO SPECIALIZED IN INTELLIGENCE STUDIES!!!

kiki is here but with no sprite ): and she likes drawing!! (but is putting that on hold to also work on codebreaking)

SHE!!!

oh i know luke must be sabotaging again for rosa to not have anyone ask to be her partner for the dance

KIKI SUGGESTING THAT SHE ASK LUKE

OKAY SO IT SEEMS LIKE THEY’RE NOT CHILDHOOD FRIENDS. IT’S HAPPENING IT’S HAPPENING IT’S HAPPENING

THEY’RE ALWAYS WORKING TOGETHER SO GRADUALLY THERE WERE RUMORS THAT THEY’RE DATING

luke rejecting a lot of girls’ invitations.... DON’T WORRY LUKE I’LL ASK YOU

kiki best wingman

EVERYONE IN THEIR CLASS HAS BEEN TRYING TO GUESS WHO WOULD CONFESS FIRST

A;LDSFKJA DK HE DID!!!! HE DID CHASE AWAY ALL THE OTHER SUITORS!!!!

oh luke has his parents in his universe :’) his dad got him a (rare and expensive) audio recorder pen before he started college (who wants to bet that it’s full of recordings of mc’s voice. and his parents)

also it’s probably a reference to the mp3 player in his 3rd bday card (which you can read my translation of *hint hint nudge nudge*)

oh mhy you’re mocking us with this. like this is literally my account description just one character difference

but he will. he will.

idealistic and a hero. yup.

NOT LUKE JUST CASUALLY INVITING HIMSELF ON OUR (MC’S) PLANS FOR THE FUTURE TTTTTTTTTT OH HE’S SO DOWN BAD

aaron and younger luke but we don’t get sprites, just silhouettes. fine. whatever. just give me vincent in marius’s card and it’s all good.

wow. so mc asks to practice self-defense and luke IMMEDIATELY keeps his right behind him as a handicap, not even stopping to ask or offer. i hate him. that’s so hot of him

sorry i’m being so messy in the liveblog but if you’re scrolling this far then be ready

luke’s eyes described “as if they had absorbed the milky way” hmm okay writing team i may love you for that

AND we get fake relationship as their cover in this card?? thank you for the feast mihoyo 🙏

not another imagery of a cemetery in the rain

NO!! NO!!! NOT THIS FACE!!!! YOU PUT THAT BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME

(i call it luke’s despair expression and it kills me every time)

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO DON’T TELL US TO KEEP THIS SAFE FOR YOU

okay. yeah. i teared up. bad end ✔

anyway i enjoyed the card story. i think most of it was a lot of fun, the action/tension moments were well executed, and the last twenty minutes or so were definitely brutal, oof. i’ll consider saving for this card but it’s definitely not a necessity. also i don’t think i’ll be translating it, or at least, it wouldn’t be a priority for me to translate.

unfortunately i actually DO have to sleep instead of reading the card stories all night like i would prefer :’) might watch some vyn bc i have no self-control but vyn/marius(/artem?) cards tmrw!

vyn

not a proper “live”blog since i read this at work so this is more of a review

but i really liked the story. possibly loved it, i’ll have to think about it a bit more

vyn’s personality is like... a little different in here. his earlier scenes have a LOT of his mocking unscrupulous people and not bothering to hide his disdain for them. remember how he was with that PUA in his personal story and that very disdainful expression he had? that energy x10. also a wider range of emotion/sprite expressions used with him

so honestly it’s VERY tragic that this was AI voiced bc it would have been so awesome to have jiang guangtao actually voicing him TT i’ll probably rewatch at least parts of it when other dubs release

the story reminded me a bit of his desert card since mc helps him unveil a conspiracy and he and mc need to work together to take down the true threat. like, this one definitely feels more gritty and grounded, and imo that’s closest in tone to the desert AU card; gufeng AU is meant to be like a myth/legend, and bakerlon was almost... whimsical? ANYWAY back to the main point, i liked how it felt more serious, they had to test each other a bit because trust (at first) isn’t certain, and i liked that a lot because doubt was such a big thing for their canon storyline. also i really like how they feel more like equals in this story! usually there’s a bit of an imbalance in identities where vyn is more powerful, but it definitely feels different in this one. maybe also because they made vyn more emotional/unstable (and have a very... luke-esque trope) in this one?

anyway, i liked it more than i thought i would. definitely considering saving for it and/or translating

marius

ALRIGHT SPY!MC ENEMIES TO LOVERS ROUND TWO LET’S GO

oh my god. are they giving us a taste of marius as the ~domineering CEO~? I’M HERE FOR IT

vincent has me DISAPPOINTED when marius appears in the scene instead of him. I WANT TO SEE HIM SO BAD

it’s SO weird having rosa call him “mr. von hagen” (she’s his secretary :3)

NO!!! FUCK!!!! DAMN IT!!!! NO SPRITE FOR VINCENT!!!!!! 0/10 CARD!!!!!

wowww we got this sprite too 😍 spoiling us with these cards

YANG TIANXIANG’S VOICE ACTING TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT LEGEND!!!!!

okay i think it was a good card but tbh i feel like his desert card just outshines. i feel like the plot was too similar in this one, and the parts that i were most interested in were done better in that card. but like it’s still a really good card!!

artem

them SHARING “cloudbreak” as their codename...... TTTTTTT

sdjflkajdsfk rosa get it together!! why is she so much more coolheaded in the other cards

yesssssssssssss when the highlight leaves their eyes >>>>>>>>

so many cold/humorless laughs from artem

omg he’s really panicked. so much. he spent like the last ten minutes with either that^ sprite or this sprite

OH WHAT THE FUCK

not sure of my opinion on this card plot bc dang this is kinda messy TT but zhao lu’s voice acting is godly so i’ll enjoy it

what the hell i think this is actually the bleakest ending. i think we both died TT

ok so. this is an interesting card. i can’t decide if/how much i would say that i like it but it definitely gives you sth to think about

(also like. i do Not think that my confusion about this plot is solely from il/literacy because one of the highest comments is someone trying to explain the plot of the card)

but anyway unlike the other cards where they’re kinda forced in situations with no better choice, i think artem and mc’s flaws and mistakes play a part in causing their bad ending. like. they were not on their game tonight. i’m sorry to say it’s an L for team cloudbreak

and that’s not always a bad thing!!! it’s very cool to see a character cause their own downfall!!!

but i think the flaws in question are ones that aren’t necessarily present in their canon personality, so YMMV on whether it’s an interesting character interpretation or if it crosses the line of ooc

this may be bc i JUST reread my post about artem’s personal story, him hiding something so important from mc and in that way holding her back is a little immersion-breaking for me. and mc being rather inexperienced and letting emotions win out when she needs to take action was also a bit much for me

but ALSO maybe that criticism is largely due to bias on my part, because you could probably make a really similar argument about gufeng marius, but i liked that card. maybe because it’s marius and i’ve been wanting tot to go yandere for so long i would reread it so i could analyze it more clearly but I DON’T HAVE THE CARD YET

honestly the more i think about it in comparison to gufeng marius the more accepting i am of the card

overall (my opinion)

vyn > luke > marius ?? artem

vyn’s card gets the highest ranking because i was invested the entire time and i can’t remember any major complaints about it (or at least about the story, i’m still sad that we had AI voicing for such emotional scenes)

luke and marius are pretty similar. not really any complaints but also not as much that lingers in my mind. i think luke edges out marius for me because there’s better foreshadowing with things that appeared earlier in the card showing up again later.

artem depends so much on how you feel about the direction they took with the characters that i can see it varying wildly. for me it’s still near the end though

ok to be FAIR. there could also be an argument made that vyn is a little ooc here. but he also had a very different background; instead of growing up as royalty and being instilled with gentlemanly manners, he grew up being told he would die at age 9 and still had his death predicted in the year the card happens and lived his whole life conscious of his mortality. and he used this borrowed time to heal as many injured people as he could, even against the wishes of powerful underground organization/s. so yeah i can believe that he could be rougher, sharper in tone, a little less coolheaded. also, consider : it’s very entertaining to see him like this

#tot liveblog

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starlightrows · 2 years

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Hello and welcome back to Krax Rewatches. Tonight I am rewatching Episode I : The Phantom Menace for two reasons. Firstly, I wasn’t able to consume any Star Wars media on actual Star Wars Day this past week (tragic I know). And secondly, I needed a hit of that sweet sweet nostalgia. So let’s jump in.

• Obi Wan deadass called Jar Jar a “this”. As in “What’s this?” To which Qui Gon replies “A local”…. Qui Gon please control your angsty teenager, referring to other intelligent species as “it” or “this” or “that” is kinda shitty

• Fully forgot that R2 D2’s introduction to the Star Wars franchise (chronologically) is him saving Padmè and Co. from being shot down in a space battle. Way to go R2

• Seeing Tatooine makes me feel nostalgic because it’s a part of almost every single Star Wars story that means anything to me

• Look. I know baby Anakin catches a lot of hate for being annoying. But I want everyone to shut up and listen for two seconds. He’s 8 years old. And his first thoughts when Qui Gon reveals that they are stranded on Tatooine because they can’t afford to buy the parts they need to fix their ship is this: I can fix it! Please let me help! followed directly by Oh you can’t afford it? Let me go win the money and just give it to you so you can fix your problem! Little Anakin was a good kid. He has a good heart.

• Qui Gon has some otherworldly amount of trust in the Force. This child I met yesterday says he is the “best pilot in the universe” and built a racing class pod that’s “really fast”…. I’m going to bet this ship that doesn’t belong to me, which is the only thing of value that I have against the world of my new child friend

• The wondrous thought of does every star in the sky have it’s own planetary system? Has anyone ever visited all of them? I’m gonna be the first to see them all….

• Midichlorians

• Aura Singh is a spectator of the pod race?! HELLO?

• I wonder how many people lost money by betting that Sebullba would wind? I wonder who got fucking RICH because Anakin won?

• Bib Fortuna… looking crusty as fuck as usual

• “Why do I feel like we’re about to pick up another pathetic life form?” — Obi Wan Oh what you do not yet know Obi, what you do not yet know

• Honestly I feel so hard for Shmi Skywalker. Her son got freed from slavery. But she had to stay. She had to let her son go away to be raised by others for his own betterment and remain in literal slavery. That is fucking tragic….. Having the “Will I ever see you again?” conversation with your mom, the only parent you’ve ever had. At the age of 8. Ouch. Fuck. My heart. Also happy Mother’s Day Shmi Skywalker.

• Look. LOOK. I am not and never have been a Darth Maul kinda gal… but today… I was looking at him a lil different. Please don’t read into this.

• Spotted Jedi that make me Happy! Master Galia, Master Bilaba, MASTER PLO!

• I can’t tell if it was actual Padmè that Anakin saw and spoke to when he went to go say goodbye to her…. But now that I think about it, it most definitely was. The things you don’t notice, when you are also 8 years old and watch a movie

• “Qui Gon Sir. I don’t want to be a problem” Bitch me too

• I like that Padmè’s response to “The senate is taking too long to liberate my people? Fine I’ll fix this myself. I’ll start a war and fight in it myself”

• Laser pointers. The height of espionage

• Qui Gon’s like… well I can’t exactly put my new son in daycare. I guess he’s coming with me to overthrow this invasion force

• Star Wars music fucking SLAPS

• I would like to rescind my previous statement about Darth Maul. My childhood fever dream nightmares of him hiding in my kitchen cabinets have returned. Nice to know that my brain is still scared of the same stupid shit nearly 20 years later

• Not me wondering if Obi Wan blames himself for not being able to run fast enough to pass throw the last laser gate and possibly save Qui Gon’s life

• True Queen shit to keep your royal throne strapped with emergency blasters

• Get him Obi Wan! Fuck him up! Not for revenge purposes obviously

• I’m glad that they made the droids funny in the tv show. These ones are boring :/

• I love these movies so much

#Krax Chats #Krax Rewatches #Krax Watches

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liz-thinks-too-much · 4 months

Text

Rating the way people reacted to me coming out as autistic

1 - *Gets very scared and anxious and starts doing A LOT of research about it*

9/10 - That was my mom when I told her the pychiatrist that was making my test suspected I was autistic. I see that was her way of getting understanding me better, and another day we talked about my autism in a car ride and it was really comforting, but seeing her this anxious was kinda stressing sometimes. Also, you're the one who started this whole thing by saying you thought I was autistic, mom, and that gave me courage to finally see if I was or not, so thank you , but also why are you surprised lol (I love my mom)

1.1 - "I'm sorry for calling you dumb when you were a kid, I will never call you that again"

5/10 - That was my mom after we received the official diagnosis. She used to say I was "so smart for some things but so dumb for others" because I was academically smart but had a hard time understanding emotions and instructions. That did hurt and impacted a lot on my self esteem, and I'm sad I had to prove I'm autistic to "earn" not being treated with disrespect, but well, at least she apologized.

2 - "They can't be autistic, I read autistic kids play with only one toy and they used to have a bunch of Barbies growing up"

-10/10 - This was my dad when I told him about the psychiatrist's suspicions. First of all, who do you think you are to not trust a professional that literally has a degree and has the authority to do this testings, I know sometimes doctors are kind on biased when it comes to autism but you bet she knows a lot more than you. SECOND you were absent durning my early childhood, you were just the guy who would be home sometimes and scream at my mom, you barely played with me, because if you did you would know I dind't play with all those Barbies like you're saying, and third, even if I did, autism is not a "plays with one toy" disability, you're over simplifying it so much is embarassing.

2.1 - "If that is autism then that would mean I'm autistic too"

7/10 - My dad after the oficial diagnosis. The pyschiatrist explained to him what my autism was about and he was still kind of in denial but I'll give him extra points for making a funny comment because, oh boy, wait until he hears that autism is genetic and that he probably has it too lol.

3 - "Thank you for telling me, how have you been feeling about it?"

10/10 - listened to me and focused on understand how I feel other than making the conversation about their feelings.

4 - "Thank you for telling me this and allowing me to be part of your life"

11/10 - Said this while giving me a hug and also listened close when I talked about my experience.

5 - "And what about it, it doesn't matter"

-20/10 - That hurt like a bitch, especially because it came from one of my best friends. It turned out that, in fact, that DOES matter, it is something really important that changes the way I see myself and my perspective on my past and actually helped me cope with trauma and insecurities I still carry. I know you're maybe trying to tell me you still see me as me but that's a shitty way to say it.

#ill do a part 2 because there's more #autism #autistic #actually autistic #neurodivergency #disability

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tepikvinxi · 9 months

Text

i keep forgetting this is tumblr and i can just share whatever

Have my silly little Spiritfarer as TF2 mercs idea thingy that sprouted simply because i was fixating on both in the same time frame.. I have my who's what, along with my reasonings and whatever else under the cut :)

warning, this is scatterbrained and i also have Not done my research this is all mostly based off of vibes

My brain said i would be limiting to two spirits per class, so it's not completly even since there's not enough spirits to fill both teams. I could use some of the off ship characters too tho... haven't been on that

Anyways, to start off, we have:

Stella as a Scout/Ms. Pauling. I kinda had is as a tie since she seems to fit both? She runs around doing athletic feats, wears a hat, and is a general nuciance to the public (at times). She can also double jump, Irrefutable Evidence right there! I also have a much easier time imagining Stella as a scout than whaterer pauling does lol. Plus she gets called scout by Bruce, which is something i love. For the Pauling Arguement, she is the playable character in the game, so it feels kinda weird to mix her in with the other spirits (for whatever reason). She also, more so, does a lot of things (which is part of the game mechanic but still) for the others, an obligation a scout wouldn't have to meet. Especially for both teams! Also that. She would be interacting with both teams, so it'd be tough as a member of one to peacfully interact with the other. I'm thinking it'd be a change from one role to the other. Either she starts as a Pauling/admin's asisstant/whatever, and then one way or another transfers to a scout, or she starts as a scout on the battlefield and somehow ranks up out of it. I think i like the second idea better, but oh well. I probably won't ever fully flesh this out anyways.

Daffodil is still just Stella's cat, no change there

Gwen is a Spy. She's the whole spark of this idea lol. I just saw her and was like: spy tf2 vibes fr, and here we are. What can i say, she smokes, she's posh, she looks like she could most definately stab you. 10/10. I say she's still Stella's childhood friend.

Atul is a Soldier. He hops. That's not all but that's the main reason. He's a very boisturous fella, and a loud one too!

Summer is a Sniper. I dunno, maybe it's cuz she's a snake and a plant, spirituality person. It works for me. She could totally snipe someone.

Astrid would be a Heavy. Strong, dependable, intelligent. I feel like the role of a heavy fits her greatly.

Alice as an Engineer. No matter where i put here i felt awkward since how could i put a sweet old hedgehog lady onto a battlefield?? This felt like my best bet lol. If anything, she would work as a support class with a lower requirement for mobility.

Gustav is a Medic. Look at him.

Giovanni just feels like a Demo. He's got that brash, lively attitude and a compulsive behaviour to match.

Bruce would be a Scout. He's shown at a hummingbird, small and gone with a flash. He also has the personality for sure.

Mickey could be a Heavy. Strong and silent (at least in-game). Bruce and Mickey would still be brothers, as they should be.

Beverly would also be a Medic. Is it because she's a bird? Honestly, probably! Her personality also meshes well with the medic class

Buck is a Soldier. Not sure where i pulled this one from but he's a soldier.

Stanley is a Pyro. Childish and a big imagination. Because he's a literal child but still.

Jackie would be a Demo. He's got that loud, sharp, self-hating vibe that only a demoman could contain.

Daria as a Sniper. Isolated, spiritual. Plus she's a flying critter and higher grounds are good for sniping. I don't really know what else she'd be. It seems like the best option since a sniping spot would be out of the way of a loud battle.

Elena would be a great fit for The Administrator lol. I almost forgot about her. My leftover roles on the list didn't seem like they would work for her minimalist personality anyways.

There is no personality changes or whatever. Just basically these characters in the spots of the others.

I have a lot less then i thought i did, but that makes sense lol. I've had ideas for drawing them but not the motivation :/ I'm also unsure if it would be better to give the spirits human designs or just leave them as their respective animals. Who knows if i'll work on this more... I just wanted to get this idea out! I might add more stuff later

Here's some of the sketches i did when i was still playing spiritfarer

Also this picture I sent to my friend while making references because it's just so silly to me???!?? What??? Swag Deer Lady vs French Man

#this is like a little game to me now #what tf2 class is this character? lets find out!#even if the content is nowhere near the same vibe!#its like taking two figurines from different toysets and making them play together #or making lps toys play war #this was also like a couple months ago so i dont remember all of my reasonings #all i know is that i love gwen and she has spy energy #thank you for coming to my ted talk #itd be fun to make this an actual story methinks #if i had the skill or energy to write #oh well #spiritfarer #tf2 #crossover #misc tep

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

Lavender

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 9,244 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad's Best Friend Friend From Work Hotch, Me turning a naughty, smutty story into something way more aka my specialty, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Oral sex, Semi-public sex, Office sex Summary: You absolutely dread going home for vacation, to your sickeningly cheery childhood bedroom and opinionated parents, but meeting your dad's friend from work at a stuffy cocktail party has the potential to make this a vacation you'll never forget.*Requested by anon, severely altered by me 😅 Link to A03 or read below! Most people would jump at the chance for an unexpected two week vacation, but you are not most people. When your boss emailed you to inform you that there had been some kind of glitch in HR’s system and you actually had two weeks of paid vacation that were set to expire, your anxiety had kicked into high gear. There isn’t enough time to coordinate travel with any of your friends, too short notice, and you’re kind of afraid to travel alone, though you’d never admit it, so that’s out.

There’s always the prospect of hanging out at home, catching up on all the shows you started but never had time to finish, doing things you’re always too busy for, like cooking and cleaning out your closet and going to the animal shelter to pet the dogs and cats.

Unfortunately, those dreams are crushed when you accidentally let slip during a call to your parents that you have the time off, and they literally insist you come home, will not let you get off the phone without confirming your plans.

You only live about an hour away from them, but for one reason or another, you rarely visit.

The minute you step into your childhood home, you’re reminded of why you rarely visit.

“There’s my little do-gooder!” Your dad is all but waiting at the door when you arrive, pulls you into a hug despite the fact that your hands are full of luggage. “Let me look at you.” He pulls back, hands on your shoulders, acting like it's possible something has changed about you since you had lunch together a month ago in DC. “Oh, you’ve got that serious lawyer hairstyle now,” he remarks with a chuckle, even though your hair is styled the same way it was at that lunch. He might not mean it to come out this way, but it sounds condescending.

“That would be appropriate, considering I am a lawyer,” you remark, trying to keep the snark out of your tone. You know he always means well. “You look good.” He takes his hands off of you and puts them on his stomach.

“Your mom has me on some kind of greens and beans diet, says it will help me live longer.” You smile, a little awkward, not sure what to say about that—your dad is typically the meat and potatoes type, so you figure some variety can’t hurt, but if you say that you’ll never hear the end of it, and you’ve already got a headache.

“Where is mom, anyway?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, and your dad clues in, takes it from you and starts walking up the staircase.

“Oh, she’s at the gym, then taking care of some last minute things for the party.” You pause at the base of the stairs, sigh softly.

“Party?” You weren’t told about any party. Your dad keeps walking, and you’re forced to follow.

“Yeah, nothing major, just some people from the office and their spouses coming over for drinks tonight. Maybe some of their kids,” he adds innocently, and you can’t help rolling your eyes.

By kids, he means sons: eligible sons to try to set you up with. You wouldn’t mind being in a room full of hot, single men vying for your attention any other time—in fact, it’s been a little while, and your most recent hookup was lackluster, so you’re a bit more tightly wound than usual—but the kinds of men your parents bring around aren’t your type at all. You’re career driven yourself, but all they want to talk about is how they plan to be the youngest partner at their firm, or the clubs they can get into, or worst of all, money. Your potentially somewhat relaxing vacation just went to shit in no time at all.

“I didn’t bring anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“I think mom got you a dress, honey. Check your closet after you get unpacked.” He pushes the door to your former bedroom open, and you’re assaulted by the color lavender; somehow you’d actually forgotten how purple it is. “You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” He sets your bag on the bed—oh god, the frilly purple comforter, you may have actually repressed that memory—and you drop your other luggage there too. “I’ll give you some time to get settled in, maybe order some lunch for us? Vesuvios?”

As irritated as you are about the party, it’s sweet that he remembers your favorite restaurant. You went there for dinner after you graduated from high school, college, and law school, so there are lots of great memories associated with the place.

“Do they adhere to the greens and beans diet?” you ask with a grin, and he puts his finger up to his lips to silence you.

“What mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” You shake your head fondly, and he slips out of your room and leaves you to it.

You start unloading your clothes into the empty dresser, hanging them in the closet that holds things like your prom dresses, graduation gowns, old cheerleading and volleyball uniforms. Every touch of silky fabric is a memory, and at this point in your life most of them are good, even if they weren’t at the time. It’s kind of nice to remember where you came from, when where you are now can be so hectic, so fast-paced you don’t see the forest for the trees.

Feeling nostalgic, you walk over to your desk, where you spent so much time with your face crammed into textbooks it’s not even funny, and flip through your old stationary set—what teenager had her own stationery? You were a total nerd—and photos you’d taken off the mirror but left sitting in a pile to be packed away eventually.

You snap out of the past after that, finish putting your toiletries away, setting up your laptop and chargers where you want them, then shove your empty suitcases in the closet and grab your phone to head downstairs.

You meet up with your dad in the kitchen, where he is opening steaming takeout containers full of Italian food. You grab some plates from the overhead cabinet and lean against the counter, look over the offerings to decide what you’ll have.

“So how are things at the ACLU?” he asks with a bit of a teasing tone. You’re well aware of the fact that he thinks you could be doing more—translation: making more—in private practice, or working for the government like he does, but neither of those things interest you and he is well aware of that.

“They’re really good, actually. We’re working on a disability rights case now that will probably make national news if we win.” It’s been forever since you had penne arrabbiata, since it’s not very easy to eat at your desk without running the risk of staining your blouse with spicy red sauce, so you load up your plate with it, add wilted spinach for color, a piece of garlic bread because it’s garlic bread. You lick your thumb, and your dad points a finger in your direction in that way that means he’s about to give you life advice.

“When you win; if you’re not confident about your capabilities, no one else will be.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly, nod, because that’s a pro tip you’ve heard time and time again. “If you came to work at the bureau, you’d win more of your cases; Constitutional law isn’t easy.” He says that like you don’t already know, like you haven’t been working in your current department for more than a year. You sigh.

“I’m not really the bureau type, dad.” You take your plate over to the breakfast table, sit down and start to pick at your food. Arguing about your chosen career path is enough to make you lose your appetite, even for your favorite dish. Your dad follows, sits across from you.

“You’re so smart, honey, you could be if you wanted to.” He takes a bite of fettuccine alfredo, points his fork at you. “Hey, maybe you could talk to Jim from the Office of General Counsel tonight—or maybe Aaron. You’d be really interested in the work his team does.”

“Who’s Aaron again?” You don’t recognize the name, so he’s probably not one of the attorneys on your dad’s team, but he works closely with so many departments you might have heard it before and missed it.

“Friend from work. He’s the unit chief at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They’re criminal psychologists or something. Profilers,” he says, snapping his fingers. “That’s what they call them. They get into criminals’ heads, analyze them and interrogate them. I know you minored in psychology, I bet he could get you an internship.” You laugh at that, because he always gives you advice about furthering your career, but that’s a step backward for you and he can't be so dense not to realize it.

“An internship? I’m a little old for that, don't you think? Not to mention I have a job that I love.” You stab at your food, more than a little agitated by the current conversation.

“Never too late to get your foot in the door, sweetie. It’d be great to see you more, that’s all I’m saying,” he adds, ending on a gentler note, and you sigh. Your mom does it too, but your dad is an expert into guilting you into doing what he thinks is best. Unfortunately, you’ve never handled guilt very well.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him, if it means that much to you,” you promise, and you both smile and make easy small talk for the rest of the meal. The dress your mom bought for you for the party is a black, sleeveless, designer cocktail dress, something more form fitting than you would normally wear—she is evidently trying very hard to find you an eligible bachelor tonight. You pair it with your favorite jewelry, simple heels, and when you head downstairs your mom acts like it’s prom night all over again.

“Oh sweetie, you look so beautiful!” She puts her hands on your arms, spins you around. “You’re looking too thin—must be eating a lot of salads on that paralegal salary,” she throws over her shoulder to your dad, and they both laugh. You wish life were a documentary so there was a camera you could look into with an unimpressed expression.

“I’m a staff attorney actually. Fully accredited,” you add, but it’s no use. If you don’t follow in your dad’s footsteps, you will always be seen as living beneath your potential, and therefore always the butt of these types of jokes.

You love them, really, and you know they love you, but they are not the most supportive pair by a long shot. They made sure you got into a great college, let you follow your law school dreams—and you’re grateful, won’t deny their money is a privilege so many other people in your position do not possess—but that was only because those were their dreams as well. As soon as you told them about taking the position at the ACLU, it was like the tables were turned, and instead of your accomplishments, all they saw was wasted potential.

It’s enough to keep you away most of the time, which sucks, but it is what it is. It’s easier to love them from afar, so that’s what you do.

At the party, you shake hands, talk about the weather, introduce yourself to so many middle aged white guys and their sons that their faces all start to blur together. After half an hour you excuse yourself, head to the bar for a drink, and come to stand next to a middle aged white guy you have not introduced yourself to—this one, you’d have remembered, because he is tall, broad, serious looking, and very handsome.

If you were a dog, he’d have your ears perking up, no doubt about that. Instead, your heart just races a little.

“I have to say, these FBI parties are even less fun than I thought they’d be,” you comment as you wait for your drink. The man lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight smile.

“Get a bunch of men who are past their prime in one room, and all you hear about are the glory days. Can’t get a word in edgewise.” The bartender hands you your glass, and you turn to fully face the stranger.

“Why aren’t you talking about your glory days?” You immediately kind of want to slap yourself. Your social skills have been exhausted tonight, apparently. “I’m sorry, that was rude; I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re… past your prime.” You give him a brief once over, because he deserves it, is even more gorgeous up close than you’d initially assessed; he chuckles softly, sips on his own drink.

“It wasn’t rude, it was… shrewd.” His own gaze lingers on your face, maybe the neckline of your dress, just a little. “Your father’s really happy you’re here, wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“Yeah, he's one of the most ambitious people I know; he gets an idea in his head and won’t rest until he’s seen it through.” It’s a quality that sounds good on paper, but when it’s constantly being applied to your life, it’s more tiring than anything. “Right now he’s trying to get me to bully one of these poor guys into giving me an internship, as if I’m not twenty-nine years old with a career of my own.” He wets his lips, laughs again.

“I think I’m the poor guy—Aaron Hotchner. I’m the unit chief overseeing the BAU.” Wow, 0 for 2. This guy’s got to think you’re a complete idiot. He extends a hand and you shake it firmly, melt a little because his palm is so broad, his fingers so thick.

“Right, I’m so sorry. Feel free to tell me right now that I’m not the right fit, and I’ll slink off and hide in a corner somewhere for the rest of the night.”

“No need for that. You strike me as someone who would be a great fit for my team, if that was something you actually wanted.”

You aren’t looking for a career change in the slightest, but you can’t deny it would be tempting to report to this man every day.

“It’s not that I’m not curious about what you do; my dad told me a little, and it sounds really intriguing. I just have a lot on my plate right now. If the offer had come up before I started my current job, I would be all over it.” You smile, shrug. “Unless you could have me intern for the next two weeks I’ll be on vacation, I’ll have to politely decline the offer you haven't actually made me.” You smile, and so does he.

“Now who’s ambitious?” he asks with a raised eyebrow; the way he says it, like he finds it charming, makes your face heat a little. You’ve never connected like this at one of your dad’s FBI events, and even though there’s no way it ends well—if anything even starts—you feel the need to see how far you can go. Even if it’s just a little flirting. Even if it’s just tonight.

“Have you ever been here before tonight?” you ask after a beat. You take a sip of your drink, and he mirrors you. You lean in a little closer.

“Once, briefly. I didn’t get a grand tour, or anything.” You smile—bingo—and reach out to place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, I’d be happy to give you one, if you like. Usually my dad is all about it, but he looks occupied.” You both glance across the room at where he is in the middle of a group of men—still discussing their glory days, no doubt—and Aaron looks at you again, nods.

“Sure, I’d love one.” You show him around downstairs, the backyard, the garage—he doesn’t seem to care about the cars at all—and then go upstairs, show him guest rooms, the master bath your mother recently remodeled; he gets a little closer as you go, and you smile more, flirt a bit. You stop outside the door to your room, block it with your body while you talk about the art hanging in the hall; he’s very good at reading your body language, apparently, because he leans closer to you, puts his hand on the doorknob next to your hip.

“What’s this room?” he asks, feigning innocence, and you put your arm over his.

“Oh, no, we’re not going in there. That’s my old bedroom.” He smiles, and you grimace.

“You mean the room I most want to see now? Come on.” He turns the knob, hears it click, and you cover your face with your hand, sigh.

“This is going to be really embarrassing. It’s exactly the way it looked when I went to college, and that was over ten years ago.” You push the door open with your hand, walk in and flick on the light. Aaron follows, chuckles.

“It’s... purple. Cute.” He makes toward the bed, touches one of the frills on the comforter with his big, broad hand. The juxtaposition of your innocent lavender bedding being stroked by the fingers you can’t stop staring at is a very interesting one.

“No, it’s not cute, it’s horrifying,” you say, and when he walks toward the open closet, you begin to regret this little tour. He pulls out your prom dress, your cheerleading uniform.

“Cheerleader, huh? You don’t seem the type.” He looks over at you, and you push it back into the closet, lead him away from it with your hands on his arms.

“I’m not. It was important to my mom.” The two of you are by your dresser now, and he leans in to look in the mirror, at you standing behind him and not his own reflection.

“I see. Do you always put other people's needs before your own?” You sidle up next to him, and he turns to face you.

“This is what you do, right? You… deduce for a living? Like Sherlock?” That makes him laugh, which in turn makes you smile.

“It’s called profiling, but that’s accurate enough.” You feel a challenge brewing inside you, take a step closer to him.

“Okay… What can you tell me about myself by looking around the room? Remember, this stuff is from ten years ago; a lot could have changed.” He crosses his arms, nods.

“You’re right, but your core values wouldn’t have.”

Slowly, he walks around the room, taking things in, touching things, looking back at you briefly and then rifling through parts of your past. It’s a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I think your father wants you to work at the bureau, and you don’t want to because you’ve always felt like you’d live in his shadow if you followed the same career path. You want to blaze your own trail, do what fulfills you, not let his last name be what moves you up the ladder.”

That’s all scarily true, so you nod, cross your arms, lean your butt against your desk.

“I think you’re afraid of commitment because you don’t think any relationship you’re in will ever measure up to what your parents have.” That stings a little, but he’s not wrong. He points to a flyer stuck to a cork board, something about a charity project you’d worked on that revolved around recycling. “Environmentally conscious: I bet you drive a hybrid, and if your dad bought it for you, it’s a... BMW.”

He glances back, and you encourage him to go on. He points to a copy of your Georgetown diploma hanging on the wall, then picks up a cheerleading trophy on your dresser.

“You were a cheerleader to please your mom, went to Georgetown to please your dad, excelled at both; you’re an only child, so you felt you couldn’t let them down. My question is,” he says, looking up at you curiously, “what pleases you?” The words make your heart beat fast; you lick your lips, tilt your head.

“Not much.” He comes closer, arms crossed again.

“Why?” God, that’s a loaded question for a Friday night, for the first day of your vacation. You absently wonder if he’s going to bill you for this impromptu therapy session.

“I find it difficult to ask for what I want,” you ultimately say, and he moves even closer. His stare is probing, and you speculate that he may have been a lawyer before the FBI. The look on his face is the same one you’ve seen in many courtrooms over your short career.

“Of course you do. You’ve never done it before. You've spent your whole life asking other people what they want from you.”

You feel very seen, and you kind of hate it, but you also kind of like it—that he’s able to dissect you like this is a huge turn on. What that says about you, you’re not entirely sure; maybe that you enjoy being seen for who you are—for all that you are—instead of who you know, or who you could have been, for a change.

“I think you didn’t lose your virginity until college—your second year.” It feels like bringing that up is a bold move for him; he doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it. “I would guess you got drunk for the first time around then, too. Your first year you were trying to navigate the feeling of not being under anyone’s thumb anymore; your second year, you finally felt like your own woman, you wanted to try new things, but it made you feel out of control and you don’t like that. Even now you only drink socially, never to get drunk.” He is directly in front of you now, and he reaches out a hand, brushes it over your cheek. “I also think you gravitate toward men you find inappropriate and unattainable so you don’t have to worry about being the reason your relationships fail.”

He looks into your eyes with a questioning gaze. It’s a painfully accurate take, but he softens the blow with the gentle touch.

“Wow, you’re kind of an asshole,” you breathe, but you smile, and he laughs low.

“Maybe. But am I wrong?” You nod your head, and his face falls a little, so you narrow your eyes to mess with him a bit.

“Only about one thing: I actually drive a Kia hybrid. And I bought it myself, for your information.” He smiles, and you press your hands against his chest; it’s crazy how quickly he drops back into the serious expression you first saw him wearing by the bar. “Are you unattainable and inappropriate?”

“I work with your father; we’re the same age. We play golf together sometimes.” He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, doesn’t back away or remove your hands. You slide them down his body, over his stomach, stop at his belt, and he looks the way you feel: tightly wound, aroused, a little breathless.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Aaron. May I do some profiling of my own?” You look up at him, curious, and he nods.

“Be my guest,” he murmurs, and you lean back. You rake your eyes over his body slowly—there’s no mistaking your appraisal for what it is. “No ring on your finger, but there’s no way you haven’t been married before. My guess is you’re divorced, and it wasn’t your idea.” You look up at his face, smile softly. “Sorry. You weren’t exactly pulling punches either.” He huffs a laugh.

“You’re right: I wasn’t pulling punches. You’re right about the divorce, too. Go on.” You nod, hum.

“Okay. You have a strong moral compass; you always do what’s right, even when it’s difficult. It’s what makes you such a great leader for your team. You like to go by the book, you’re a Fed through and through—but when it comes down to the bureau or the people you care about, you’ll fight the establishment with all you have. You aren’t a blind believer in the government; you have your criticisms, and you aren’t shy about voicing them.”

“Unlike your father,” he says, and you sigh. “You don’t have an appreciation for his work.”

“No, I really don’t.” Your dad specializes in Freedom of Information Act litigation—he does his best to keep the FBI from actually living up to its commitment to be transparent with the American people, and it doesn’t sit right with you, never has. You may both be attorneys, but you could not be more different if you tried. “But I’m profiling you, remember?”

“Right. Please continue.”

“This might be going out on a limb, but I think you went to law school. The way you speak, and the way you looked at me earlier? It was a little like cross-examination. Am I right about that?” His answering smile actually looks pleased.

“You are. I was a prosecutor for a number of years before joining the FBI. I think it’s something you don’t ever really lose.”

“For better or worse,” you say with a smile of your own. Happy with your assessment, you move a little closer again. “One more thing. I don’t think you’re the kind of man who would normally let a woman take you into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing her. Childhood or otherwise.” You smooth your hands down either side of his tie, over his firm chest and solid midsection. “Maybe you saw something in me you liked?”

“I was... dreading coming here tonight.” He brings his hands up to cover yours, but doesn’t pull them away, just holds them. “If you’ve been to one of these parties, you’ve been to them all—no offense to your father—and I was contemplating a good excuse to leave early, if I’m being honest. Then you showed up at my side—my friend’s mysterious daughter that I’ve heard so much about—and you’re funny, and charming. Insightful. Vulnerable.” He squeezes your hands, presses them closer to his chest. “Beautiful. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked at someone and felt an instant connection. Do you feel it?” His voice is just above a whisper, and you nod lightly.

You aren’t the type of woman to take a man into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing him, childhood or otherwise, but he makes you want so badly you’re almost ravenous—you’ve felt this way before, maybe twice in your life, but neither of those experiences ended with you getting what you wanted. You really hope this time might be different.

“Kiss me?” He takes a breath and then presses his lips together.

“I shouldn’t.”

“I know. But will you?” After a beat, he does, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, moving his hands to your face as he deepens it.

It’s not a hard kiss, but rough around the edges, your noses pressed together, mouths seeking contact even as you pull apart for breath. He kisses like he needs it, tastes like bourbon, feels like heaven; it’s steamy, wet, makes your chest heave and your pussy throb. When he walks you backward, gently presses your body against your desk, you hop up onto it easily and pull him closer, between your spread knees.

“Aaron,” you sigh over his lips, and his hands move to your thighs, pushing up your dress so he can get closer to you. You glide your fingers through his hair, plant a hand on the desk, then feel something tip over, hear the soft sound of paper sliding over the edge.

Aaron looks down, picks up a lavender envelope; he holds it up with a question in his eye and an enamored look on his face.

“‘From the desk of…’ You had personalized stationery at eighteen?” His mouth is a little red from the kiss still, and he’s teasing you, perfect; you smile, can’t believe this is happening.

“I liked to write to my congressman… and Ruth Bader Ginsburg,” you pant. He chuckles, kisses you a little softer than before, then moves down your throat, sweeps his tongue over your pulse. “Mmm. Right there.”

He pauses to look up at you, hair mussed from your fingers, and you push his jacket off his shoulders; he shifts to full height, helps you take it off, and you drape it over your desk chair, work the knot of his tie loose.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks as your fingers slip down the front of his shirt, freeing his buttons. You unclasp his belt, open his pants, and stretch up for a kiss, touching his face; you nod when you pull back.

“Absolutely. Are you?” He nods too, all serious eyebrows you want to kiss, mouth you want back on yours, on your throat, anywhere.

“Absolutely.” You step down off the desk, run your hands over his arms, then kick off your shoes and walk over to the door, close and lock it; when you pass him again, you guide him to the bed and sit in his lap, clutch at his shoulders and kiss him with as much desperation as he showed you before. There’s a lot of heavy breathing, sighing, moans from you both, and if just kissing is this good, you can’t imagine what he’ll be like inside of you.

When you can find it in yourself to stop kissing him, you pull back and climb out of his lap, present the back of your dress so he can ease down the zipper. He pushes it off, large, warm hands gliding over your body until it hits the floor in a heap unbecoming of the designer label. Your mother would lose her mind.

“You are incredibly beautiful,” Aaron says as he moves his hands to your hips, sliding your panties down and leaning in to press his lips to your stomach. You sigh, press a hand to the back of his head while his mouth explores you where you’re soft and sensitive. You’d like it lower, but there may not be time for that tonight. “What do you want with an old man like me?”

“None of that.” You sweep your hands over his shoulders, sink down onto his lap again, and his hands fall to your bare hips, squeezing you softly; you close your eyes for a moment, so overwhelmed by just the simplest touch. “Like you said: I feel a connection.” Your fingers move to push his shirt open, to lift his undershirt so you can get your hands on bare skin and soft body and hair. He groans, and you kiss him, deep and slow, hands moving to take off both shirts and add them to his jacket on your chair. You take a deep breath, reach out to touch his cheek. “Connect with me.”

He takes your hand, brings your palm to his mouth and kisses it, then drags it down so your fingers slide over his lips; you swallow hard, can feel wetness pooling between your legs, so you slide off of him and onto the bed—however sexy it may be to leave your mark on him, you do both have to return to the party at some point.

Sitting up beside him, you touch his body, ease his pants and boxers down; he takes them off along with his shoes, and you pull the comforter out from under you, push it to the side, let yourself lay back and bask in the look and feel of him as he settles between your knees, leans in for a kiss.

It’s even more intense than before, somehow, his thighs against yours, strong arms supporting him, and you drag your nails lightly up his body, tip your head back and sigh when his lips trail from the base of your throat to your jaw.

He moves a hand low, rubs his fingers between your lips and presses one finger inside you, slowly glides it in and out so you’re moaning, sighing his name.

“That feels so good,” you breathe, and he moves his mouth to yours again, soft and wet, the slide of his tongue sinfully delicious. He adds a second finger, earns more gasping moans, then a third; with the help of a capable thumb stroking over your clit, you come, and he kisses the praise right out of your mouth and then pushes inside you.

His mouth doesn’t leave yours, keeps you close as he thrusts inside, gradually lowering his weight onto you until you feel him everywhere: chest soft against yours, stomachs pressing together as you both work your hips, as your hands grasp his back to keep him close, heavy. Connected.

“You’re perfect. You feel incredible, baby,” he speaks against your lips in a rare moment apart, and you hitch your knees up higher, press the heels of your feet against his ass.

You thought he looked turned on before, but now he looks like he’s being consumed by it, like he wants to thrust deeper into you, make a home in your body and never leave; you would be more than okay with that, to spend the next two weeks beneath him, holding him close, sharing breath and sweat and pleasure so complete it changes you profoundly.

He moves a hand behind your head, cradles it, and sucks wet kisses against your throat—nothing so deep as to leave a mark, but that doesn’t mean you’re not panting, whimpering, begging for more.

“Aaron. Hmm, oh. You’re so gorgeous, I—everything about you.” He pulls away from your neck, peers down at you, and you’re sure you’re a sight to behold in your desperation; your palms smooth down his back, to his sides, and you hug him close, squeeze him hard when he comes, panting your name against your throat and pumping roughly inside.

You meet his every thrust, dig your nails into his hips, and he leans forward, covers your mouth with his and grinds against you until your second blissful orgasm shudders through your limbs. You clench tight around him, moan, then slowly sag back against the mattress, more thoroughly satisfied than you’ve ever been in your life.

He shifts, half on top of you and half off, his kisses gradually slowing, his hands sweeping over your shoulders, your face, your arms. When you’re calm, content, you sigh, kiss his hands and cheeks and lips; you’re warm, and you curl around him, overheated skin on skin, and never want to leave.

“Mmm,” he rumbles against your shoulder, mouthing at it, and you sigh, scrape your nails through his hair.

“Mm hmm. Think I can die happy now,” you murmur, and he shifts up to look at you, a smile curving softly from the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t die on me, now.” You smile too, scoot closer for slow kisses. You’re both happy to lay there, quietly kissing, but eventually it’s clear you need to return to the party in order to avoid suspicion—not that you think anyone would ever guess what just occurred.

You dress side by side, turning to have him fix your zipper, reaching up to help him with his tie. When you’re both technically decent enough to head downstairs, you plan to give him a head start, but the two of you get caught up in one more deeply sensual kiss that almost makes you want to just say screw it and take his clothes off again. He can tell, has the barest hint of a smirk on his face when the kiss breaks, and he punctuates it with a soft press of lips before walking out the door.

With your spare few minutes, you look around the room—and at your rumpled, frilly, lavender bed, on which you just had super hot sex with one of your dad’s friends, it’s still kind of sinking in—and wonder what the rest of your vacation could possibly bring that could top this night. At breakfast the next morning, you find out.

You and your parents are discussing the party, who got too drunk to function, who left with the wrong wife, which of your dad’s friend’s sons you got along with most, and then he drops the bomb on you.

“And see, honey, I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial.” You choke on a bite of scrambled eggs, try to wash it down with a sip of juice; your mom pats you on the back until the moment passes.

“What?” you ask, voice barely a squeak. You clear your throat and try again. “What about Aaron, dad?” He flips the newspaper he’s holding to the next page and peers over it at you.

“I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial. Before he left last night, he told me all about the internship—it’s nice of him to set it up for the two weeks you’re here, so you can get some experience under your belt.” You briefly think about your experience under Aaron’s belt, but it’s really not the time.

He really set you up with an internship—one he knows you aren’t interested in—based on the offhand comment you’d made about squeezing it into your two week vacation. You’d be kind of irritated at him for making the plans on your behalf, but if it means the next two weeks are anything like last night, he’s going to make it well worth your while.

The internship excites both of your parents, and your mom declares it a girls day, takes you out for some new clothes, since you didn’t bring any workwear, for a manicure and pedicure and then drinks. She talks about what a great opportunity this will be for you, and you don’t have the heart—or maybe you just don’t care anymore—to argue about what great opportunities you’ve already made possible for yourself.

Sunday is for relaxing, and not internally panicking about seeing Aaron again. Friday night was incredible, but you didn’t think it would turn into anything, considering he is your dad’s friend, and you’re only here for a couple weeks.

You have to hand it to him, though: if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and this internship is his way of getting to spend more time with you, he has managed to do what you haven’t been able for twenty-nine years—find a way to please your parents while finally pleasing yourself. Monday morning, you show up at the BAU office to receive a photo ID badge and fill out some paperwork. You don’t actually get to meet anyone from the BAU until after lunch, and when you do, Aaron is nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, I’m looking for Unit Chief Hotchner?” you say to a fair-skinned woman with long blonde hair and a kind smile. “I’m interning for the next couple weeks.” There is a man with her, Black, tall, bald, with very expressive eyebrows; the eyebrows don’t look like they think very highly of you.

“You’re an intern? A little old, aren’t you?” After a beat, his face breaks into a smile, and you roll your eyes, huff a laugh.

“Charmer. Yes, I’m definitely too old to be an intern; do you have overbearing parents by chance?” He raises his hands, palms up, and takes a step back.

“No, but enough said.” The blonde woman laughs, and he nods in your direction. “I’m Derek Morgan, this is JJ Jareau. Come with me, I’ll take you to Hotch.”

You thank him, follow as he leads you across the room and up some stairs.

“So what’s he like, Agent Hotchner?” you ask, wanting someone else’s opinion of Aaron as a boss, a coworker—anything other than the one night stand that wasn’t. You really know so little about him.

“He’s a good guy; smart, fair, great at what he does. A little tightly wound; could stand to live a little.” He looks back at you with a grin. “He’ll probably remind you a little of your dad.”

God. It almost makes you throw up in your mouth a little.

“You know, I doubt it, but thanks for the warning.” He knocks on a closed door at the end of the hall, and a moment later, Aaron answers it. His expression doesn’t change as Derek introduces you, and when he walks away with a friendly pat on your shoulder, Aaron gestures you in. He closes the door behind you and looks carefully over your face.

“Hi,” he says, and you see that hint of a smirk on his face again. You take a moment to appraise the room—there’s a window with blinds that are closed, a desk and chairs, bookcases, a printer, more windows on the far side, a loveseat. You look back at Aaron with a raised brow.

“Hi. What am I doing here?” His expression gets serious, like he can’t tell if you’re pleased or upset with him for the surprise. You sit down on the loveseat, set your bag down, and he sits down next to you.

“I know you wanted to get your father off your back, and you did say if I could squeeze an internship into two weeks that you’d be interested.” You smile a little, because you did say that. “I thought it might be nice to see you a little more, too. You’re under no obligation to stay,” he assures you, briefly looking down, and then he takes your hand. “But surely there are worse ways to spend your vacation?”

You give him an uncertain look, like you’re really trying to decide what you’d like to do, and then you push up your skirt and swiftly straddle his thighs, press your hands against his shoulders. His mouth falls open a little, and you lean in to catch it with yours.

“I have been thinking about you all weekend,” he mutters into the kiss, wraps his arms around your back. “Have you thought about me?”

“Only every night.” He groans at your words, lets his head fall back a little, and you press your lips to the column of his throat, nip softly with your teeth. “Every morning. Every minute.” You bite at the shell of his ear, kiss it, card your fingers through his hair. “Do I have an actual job to do here?” You pull back, and he raises his eyebrows; you can’t help the grin that takes over your expression. “Because if not, I’m going to focus on making this the best two weeks of your life.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, a little rougher than before, deeper, and you tug on his hair, pant against his cheek when you separate.

“In that case, no. You don’t have a job to do here.” You tilt your head, and he smiles a little. “I'm the boss, I make the rules.” That kind of thing has never done it for you before, but you have to admit it’s making you feel some type of way right now. You sweep your hands inside his jacket, squeeze his sides.

“Mmm, yes you do. Hey, do you think there’s enough room for me to fit under your desk?” He wets his lips, and you climb off of him, walk around to check it out for yourself, bending over his desk in your tight black skirt to peek beneath it. You look up to see Aaron is not shy about taking in the view, and you grin. “Spacious.”

He walks toward you, and when he’s closer, his eyes look dark with need; his hands look like they ache to reach out and touch. You step forward, let yourself be caged in against the desk by his arms, and you arch your back a little, open his belt slowly.

“I didn’t set this up so you would feel obligated to do this.” You sigh, lean up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“I know you didn’t. But if I want to?” You tug down his zipper, slip your hand inside his underwear, feel him hot and stiff in your palm. “And you want to?” He nods tightly and you kiss him again, squeeze him softly, sweep your tongue between his lips. “Then let’s.”

You take a step back, push his chair far enough out of the way that you can crawl under the desk, come up on your knees; he exhales deeply, then sinks down into his chair, stretches his long legs so they rest on either side of your body, holds his pants open for you. You look up at him, hope he sees how ridiculously eager you are to do this, and you take his dick out, stroke it a couple times, and cover it with your mouth.

“My god,” he sighs, head resting back against his seat. You hold him with both hands, suck deep and wet, moan a little when he spreads his legs further apart. “Your mouth feels so good, baby. Does this make you wet?” You pull off, move one hand to slide up his stomach, clutch his shirt there.

“Very, but I’m patient. Want to make you come.” He wets his lips, sighs, and you dip your head, lick up the length of him before sucking him back down.

He is all perfect, desperate noises, soft grunts and moans, gently palming your head as he gets closer, and you’re pretty sure he’s about to get off when there’s a knock at the door. He mutters a curse, and you squeeze his stomach, determined to make him come in the next five seconds. He looks like he’s going to lose his mind.

“Just a minute,” he manages, his voice strained, and he puts his hands on your arms, but you stroke and suck him quickly, actually sigh in relief when he spills in your mouth; your only regret is that he couldn’t be louder.

As soon as he’s through coming, you duck under the desk to wipe your mouth, and he hurries to fix his fly, to close his belt. There’s another knock, and he exhales, calls for whoever is on the other side to come in.

He accidentally bangs his knee off the desk, winces, and you lean back against it, panting, your heart racing.

“Aaron!”

Your eyes snap closed. What are the actual chances of this? You don’t know enough about karma to have an opinion on it, but you come to the sudden realization that you must have done something wrong in a past life.

“Hey, what are you doing in our neck of the woods?” Aaron asks, managing to sound like he is in fact not talking to the father of the woman who just swallowed his come.

“Looking for my little girl, of course. Had to see what she was getting up to on her first day at the FBI.”

“She’s actually… downstairs. In the mailroom. Interns start at the bottom and work their way up.” You stifle a laugh, because despite your compromising position, that’s kind of funny.

“Oh, okay. Agent Morgan thought she was up here, but I guess she must have snuck by him. Would you tell her I stopped by?”

“Absolutely. She’ll be happy to hear it,” he says, and you think you might be out of the woods, but you hear your dad’s voice again.

“Hey I almost forgot to mention: Monday Night Football tonight, got a bunch of guys coming over to watch the game. You interested?”

“You know, that would be great. You can text me the details. Thanks for the invitation.”

“Sure, of course. I really appreciate you taking care of my girl.” You have to bite your lip this time, and Aaron taps his foot against your hip.

“It’s my pleasure. She’s really wonderful. You should be proud.”

“I am. I’ll text you the details,” he says, and then the door closes and Aaron pulls back, looks down at you beneath the desk. You kind of just stare at each other for a minute.

“Close call?” you say with a shrug, and he helps you to your feet, then lifts you up and sets your ass on the edge of his desk. He grabs your face for a messy kiss, and you cling to him, breathless when he pulls back.

“What does it say about me that I’m turned on again?” he asks, and you shake your head, pull him close for another kiss.

“I don’t know, but I’m really turned on, too. Can you—” That’s as far as you get before he strides over to the door, flips the lock, and comes back to push your skirt up, tug your panties down to your knees so quickly it makes you gasp. He gets on his knees slowly, looks up at your face, and puts his hands on your hips, takes a few deep, thorough licks of your pussy. “Oh, my god.” You put your hand on the back of his head, drop your ass harder against the desk and press your other palm against it for support.

He is as enthusiastic as you were for him, slipping his tongue between your lips, gliding rhythmically over your opening but not pressing in, the tease. It feels insanely good, so much but not quite enough.

“Aaron. Oh, mmm—please. Please.” You sigh, dig your fingers into his hair, and he puts his hands under your ass and tilts you back on the desk, dives lower to start thrusting inside you with his tongue. “Yes, yeah, right there,” you murmur, and you rock your hips a little; your hand slips, sending you further back on the desk so that you’re almost laying back on it, and it makes you feel so deliciously dirty that you groan, grab at the collar of his jacket at the back of his neck.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling back to look up at you, and you nod, frantic; he licks his lips, lifts your legs and puts them over his shoulders, then dips down to stroke his tongue inside you, to press a finger inside alongside it.

“Holy—oh, yes.” You toss your head back, whine, and come around his finger while his tongue flicks in and out until you’re left breathless, spent.

You press yourself up to sitting, and Aaron stands, kisses you deeply, hands on your face while you’re still slick on his tongue. After a couple of minutes, he helps you get cleaned and straightened up, his kisses soft presses of lips this time.

“I should try to get some work done,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to; after that, you can’t really blame him.

“That’s okay; I brought my laptop, so I can work on some stuff too, if you don’t mind.” He doesn’t of course, and you get set up at the other end of his desk. You’re both plugging away at your work when you’re reminded of something from earlier; you close the lid of your computer and look over at Aaron, head tilted. “I didn’t take you for someone who likes football.” He smiles, taps his pen against his chin.

“I don’t. But I figured you’ll be there.” You smile back.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Maybe I’ll see if my old cheerleading uniform still fits—you know, just to go with the theme.” You open your computer back up, but the look on Aaron’s face out of the corner of your eye is very, very promising. “Mmh, that feels good,” you murmur, one hand on Aaron’s shoulder and the other on his thigh; he is propped up against your pillows, massaging your bare breast and your clit while you roll your hips in his lap. Your cheerleading skirt fits, mostly, but you couldn’t zip it all the way; still, it’s the only thing you’re wearing, and you can’t deny the whole situation is so hot it hurts.

“You feel so incredible. Taking me so well.” He can’t kiss you in this position, and you can tell he wants to—you really want him to—so you feel a little like a tease as you work your ass and thighs atop him. “You know you’re beautiful, but I can’t stop saying it. You’re perfect, baby—in this little skirt?” He moves the hand from your breast to your hip under the skirt, squeezes you there. “So sexy. Do you remember any cheers for me?”

You groan, roll your eyes.

“Not worth the orgasm to embarrass myself,” you say, and he lifts his hips, slams up into you hard. “Mmh. Okay, almost worth the orgasm, but not going to do it.” He lifts an eyebrow, pumps his hips up again.

“Really? Not even if I…” He lunges forward, lifting you out of his lap and making you laugh, then maneuvers you onto your stomach, gets on his knees behind you, flips up the skirt.

“God, Aaron,” you sigh, and he presses his thighs right up against your ass, slides inside, pumps slow and steady while squeezing your cheeks, pulling you back toward him. Your fingers dig into the stupid, frilly bedspread, which will probably turn you on for the rest of your life, now, and you move back against his thrusts, moan.

“Worth it now?” he asks, filling you so completely, and you pant, hum.

“Wouldn’t you rather I just moan your name?” He leans forward at that, hands planted up under your arms, and leans in to speak into your ear; the way he’s pressed against you, the angle is perfect, and you’re right on the edge when his lips brush your throat.

“Yeah, why don’t you do that instead.” It takes about two seconds for you to come, and you aren’t shy about it, let his name fall from your lips in an endless string of praise. He hammers against your ass, the roughest he’s been—and god, does it feel good—then comes inside you murmuring your name.

He pulls out, rolls you over, and you finally kiss, make it count; it’s like the first night, how you can’t get enough of each other, messy, desperate, curling tongues and soft, eager lips, but you know you can’t keep it up forever, because his presence downstairs will be missed much sooner than Friday’s party.

You help him get dressed—in jeans and a blue polo, maybe the only time in your life a polo has made you wet—and then throw on a t-shirt and jeans of your own, head downstairs. You detour for the kitchen to grab a couple beers while he heads into the living room, and then you plop down next to him on the couch and hand him one like you weren’t just defiling your childhood bedroom yet again.

“There you are,” your dad says when he registers your presence—it’s impossible to get him to look away from the tv when a good game is on. “So how was your first day at the office? Think you’re going to like it there?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I was resistant for so long.” You shift, put your leg under your butt, and take a sip of your beer. “It’s not going to be a career for me, but I have a really good feeling about the next two weeks.”

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