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look-at-the-soul · 1 year

Text

It’s not over

Cillian Murphy x reader

Master list

A/N: I was planning to post a Tommy story but this idea kept playing around my mind and I couldn’t get it to stop haunting me, so here it is, inspired by his recent appearance at the BAFTA’s.

Walking past someone from security you were rushed in the queue for an interview. It was a beautiful sunny day, your glam team made a fabulous job glamming you up that day for the Bafta event. This time you weren’t nominated, but you’d present an award. People shouting at you for a wave, you turned around and blew the crowd a kiss, after taking some time away from the sets you were ready to go back again, you were in love with the entire process; reading a script, preparing for the role, filming time and go back home.

As you turned around you frowned as you saw someone’s back walking away to enter the building. It was in a flash and a chill ran down your back. But an instant later you were pulled aside for more photos and smiles.

As the ceremony started you went backstage to change into another dress, it was a beautiful custom made dress, backless, a bit risky to be honest but it was made to fit your figure beautifully.

You tried to remain calm despite the chaos and hurry that always happened, taking small sips of water, the stylist kept busy with your hair, making sure not a single hair was out of place.

“We’re back on air!” Someone said in a firm voice.

“Oh no, no!” The woman running the program looked so stressed. “Y/N, you were supposed to go at the upcoming nomination, not this one.”

You froze for a second, trying to process what was happening. “It’s fine I can do this one.”

“You sure?” You found panic in her eyes, everything had to run according to schedule.

“Yes, no problem.”

“It’s the leading actor, instead of the actresses that you were supposed to be presenting.”

You smiled at her, a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. “Perfect, go and tell the other person the change.”

“Y/N one minute.”

There was a hole in your stomach from the excitement but you kept taking short breaths as you were handed the envelope with the winner and the card with the nominees.

Taking a second to read the list of nominees, your heart stopped beating as you read the first name on the list.

It’s a small world after all.

From all of the people, it had to be him.

“Y/N go!” Someone hissed and pushed you a little.

The screen went up and a bright light was directed into your face, unable to see a thing, you made your way to the microphone as you had during rehearsal.

A huge smile on your face as you waited for the audience to stop clapping.

“Thank you everyone, it’s lovely to see you all tonight. And even better to see these talented actors bring to life to fantastic characters, going above and beyond for their roles.” You read from the prompt in front of you. “For the category of leading actor, these are the nominees.” The red light over the camera you had been staring went off and the image of Cillian Murphy of his role as Tommy Shelby in Peaky Blinders appeared on the big screen while another camera was directed at him, you saw him smiling his eyes straight to the stage where you were standing. Quickly the recorded voice finished naming the actors and someone directed the light again to you.

“And the winner is…” Your fingers were trembling when you snapped the envelope open.

After greeting the category winner, your eyes searched around the crowd, from one side to the other, row after row.

Until you found his gaze fixed on you, even in the distance you could still feel your knees weak under the power of his eyes.

After all these years…

As the show went to a break, you were directed to a lounge backstage, the place was packed, filled with people snapping photos, laughing in a low voice, having a snack, champagne glasses flowing, someone was broadcasting the vibes of the Behind the scenes but your mind could only think of the man with the deep blue eyes and contagious smile that broke your heart years ago.

Flashback:

Waking up in a hospital bed, you felt groggy from the medication, an annoying beep making you want to hide your head under the pillow.

With a dry mouth you asked the nurse for something for the pain, wishing you could also get something for the heartache.

After the terrible accident you had been in the previous day while filming a scene, you were rushed to the closest hospital, it took them a while but they were able to stabilize the deep wound. The following morning when you woke up they still needed to run more test to determine the injury, you even needed a blood transfusion. The director of the film you were working in and your assistant were waiting outside trying to reach your family.

When you asked them to let your boyfriend know, they exchanged looks. You still regretted demanding to know what was happening as they told you they couldn’t reach Cillian. But when they left to grab a coffee and a nurse walked in you didn’t want to chat so you asked her to turn on the tv, only to realize that a picture of your boyfriend was all over the place; drunk sitting in a van with Sienna Miller, Cillian looked pissed off, cheeks flushed.

Anger took over you and an unknown level of resentment towards him appeared when he crossed the door to your room.

Still in bed, unable to move you yelled at him to fuck off, that he was a douche bag for leaving you alone after the accident while he was living his best life and fucking his co-star.

He still looked hangover and you were so glad to reach a high level of yelling at least, because you couldn’t get up to slap him.

With no voice left you announced you never wanted to see him again, and with all the pain of the world, you saw him opening the door without another glance.

You were left with not only a few broken ribs, but a broken heart as well.

End of flashback.

During all of those years you occasionally found him in a movie here and there, but never crossed paths with him at an after party or a movie premier.

Until now.

“Y/N.” His Irish voice whispered too close for your own liking.

Swallowing hard, you turned your face around to look at him, grateful that you were sitting.

“Hello Cillian.” You answered politely.

The leg opening of your dress caught not only his breath but his eyes as well, from afar you oozed beauty but having you close, he was taken aback.

Asking an old pal around and he soon learned you were by yourself at the ceremony, he had already said goodbye to his assistant.

“It’s been a while.” His free hand went to the pocket of his trousers. “I was wondering if we could… talk?”

You saw him scanning around at the people in the room.

It was a bit crowded as more people started to show up there and you definitely didn’t want anyone listening.

The memory of your body close to him flashed through his eyes for a moment, was that even possible? To keep a memory for so long? He didn’t know it was possible, but he followed your steps, tempted to touch you.

As you walked you started to regret accepting this, what was the point? Your relationship was over, you both moved on, he was probably with someone…

“I’m sorry.” He admitted taking you by surprise. “For what happened between us.”

You looked at the floor, his gaze was making you feel uneasy. “Doesn’t matter anymore.”

But he interrupted you.

“Please… I never got the chance to say how much I regret what happened,” he touched your arm with his fingertips, testing the waters, unsure if you’d take a step back, “I should’ve been with you after the accident, I-”

Your eyes watering from the pain you felt, both physically and emotionally, it had been harder without Cillian.

“Seriously it was a long time ago, I need to go.” You tried to move on, but despite the fame you reached, the ambitious projects you got involved in, nothing really mattered.

No without him.

As you tried to walk past him, Cillian reached out to stop you. “I know you said back then you didn’t want to see me again, but I should’ve try better, Y/N to be there for you, to get you back.” His chest raised, you had to focus in the disheveled tie around his neck because his eyes were too much.

You had to fight the lump in your throat. “Someone is probably looking for you Cillian.”

He shook his head. “I divorced three years ago.”

You were lost for words.

“Are you with someone?” He asked and you shook your head.

When did he get so close? You thought, getting nervous, you could feel his breath fanning over your face.

“Look at me.”

“Cillian.”

He wrapped his hand around your waist and opening a door, urged you to walk inside of a small coat closet.

“I know it’s been so long and you probably don’t care about this, but I need you to know nothing happened that night… I just got drunk, way too drunk, threw up and woke up in my hotel room on my own, went back to sleep again and then I got the phone call that you had been in an accident.”

Thinking about it you couldn’t deny the truth you found in his eyes, he was being honest. If only you gave him the chance back then…

His index and thumb were hooked under your chin, to make you look up at him.

“I’m sorry for not going back to the hospital.”

“It’s not your fault, I pushed you away.” You shouldn’t believe the scandal the media made of it.

He looked up and sighed, you had to control the impulse to run your lips through his sharp jaw.

“Just wish things had been different between us.”

“I let you go once Y/N, I’m not losing you again.”

His lips on yours took you by surprise, but you didn’t have any energy left to try to fight your feelings, over the years you learned to disguise it, to try to move on and start a relationship with someone else, but as his hands locked around the small of your back you had to give in.

Your body molded to his perfectly, your hands on his shoulders for support, one of his hands found the opening on your leg and you felt him groan as his fingers slided up through your thigh.

Breaking apart to take a breath, you took the chance to kiss down his neck and collarbone, loving the access the first loose buttons of his black shirt was giving you.

“I’m sorry you didn’t win tonight.”

With your lips connected to his neck, you felt his laugh vibrate.

“Trust me, I’m winning something much better than that award.” His strong hands cupped your face gently, to look into your eyes. “Us, what we had… it’s not over.”

***

Your thoughts is the best gift I could get 💕

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @gypsy-girl-08 @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @winchestergirl22 @heidimoreton @allie131313 @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @already-broken144 @moral-terpitude @rangerelik @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida

#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillianmurphy #Cillian Murphy smut #cillian murphy x y/n #Cillian Murphy x reader #tommy shelby

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ethereal-maniac · 3 months

Note

Hiii I was curious if you could write headcanons of the papa's ot ghouls with a partner with post-coital dysphoria? If youre comfortable with it. I've been diagnosed with it recently and I've found maybe 2 fics with it

Thanks for your time!!

Non-Descript!G/n!Reader x Sodo, Swiss, Phantom, Aether, Rain, Mountain, Cumulus, Cirrus and Copia (seperate).

A/n: Hi lovely! I wasn’t sure which era you wanted so I did 4. I also don’t know much about post coital dysphoria so I did some research for this and hopefully I was able to understand it correctly. I hope you're doing okay and that this helps. <3

(Please do let me know if this was inaccurate and I can re-write it if you'd like.)

❗️CW❗️: some implied abuse but no specifics, talk of it being possibly hormonal, just that it had long lasting negative effects on reader, implied smut, overall comfort. If you think this will cause you any discomfort, please don’t read! 🫶

Do not copy, translate or transfer (plagiarise) or take ‘inspiration’ from my fics.

SODO

It took him a good couple of days to grasp the concept.

Sex always feels so good to him, how could it do the opposite for you?

He gets mad at whatever reason you got diagnosed for this, whether it was hormones or past trauma.

He then takes the time to lay you down on the bed and softly kiss every part of your body.

Kisses always help and he's praying that they'll help ease some of your pain.

He takes things slowly with you, he's never been more committed to anyone in his whole life, you mean so much to him he refuses to do anything until you're positive it's what you want.

Their's a couple of long talks before having sex, discussing boundaries, what could occur, how he could support you during intercourse and afterwards.

He hates when you want space after sex, he's in an especially bad mood when you are (he will of course leave you alone if that's what you want though).

He will do everything in his power to help you feel as good as he does after sex.

He's in it for the long run honey, nothing could ever make him stop loving you.

--------

SWISS

This was big for him to try and digest.

He's so proud after each time you have any sort of sexual contact with him.

A lot of the time if you're feeling a bit sad/ashamed/anxious after sex and want him to be around, he has a shower with you and carefully washes your body, giving your muscles a massage and murmurs praise before hopping out of the shower, drying you off and dressing you in his comfy clothes.

Then if you’re still not feeling better, he puts on some relaxing music and picks you up, walking around the room as he waits for you to fall asleep.

And if you just want space to cool off? He'll set up a nice bath full of relaxation salts, then while you marinate in there, he queues up your favourite movie and sets up some fun little distracting activities for you (e.g colouring, gaming, whatever you enjoy).

Just let him flop on top of you a couple of hours later please, he must know if you're feeling happier.

--------

PHANTOM

It took a good couple of hours of talking for him to fully comprehend what post coital dysphoria means and how it affects you.

He isn't mad when you get irritable or upset after sex, he just feeds some of his Quintessence through to you and helps you work through it.

Since bug is still quite new to 'top-side things', including caring sex, he'll need some reassurance every now and then that he didn't do anything wrong once you're feeling better.

He feels surprisingly protective of you when you're feeling especially bad after intercourse and, if you'll let him, he'd like to perch on some furniture nearby and watch you.

He just needs to make sure you're alright.

Everything in his being is just itching to hold you, he can sense you're upset and all his instincts are screaming at him to cuddle you in a nest until you're happy again.

But he knows sometimes you just don't want that.

Sometimes he'll leave the room without a word and come back a couple of minutes later with two or three of Copias rats in his hands.

He then places them gently on your lap, watching you for any signs of a smile as he moves back to his perch.

--------

AETHER

You had discussed this with him prior to sex and he was very understanding.

He doesn't push you to do anything after being intimate, just do what feels right and comfortable.

But if you let him, he would like to feed some of his Quintessence through to you to help take the edge off of what ever emotion you're experiencing.

He also helps you set up some appointments with the abbeys therapist if you're interested.

But it's okay if you're not interested! Whether it's because you're not ready to delve into it yet or because you'd just prefer to talk about it with Aether.

He's used to dealing with Sodo being in bad moods every once in a while so you're a piece of cake and he knows how to not aggravate you further.

It's okay if you want him to leave you alone for a while, but it will take everything in him to not just sit outside your door and blow up your phone with text messages saying how much he loves you.

--------

RAIN

Seeing you anxious after being intimate with him, makes him feel anxious.

He tries to bring you into his arms when he notices you getting a little teary but you push him away with a slight scowl.

Then he remembers the conversation you had with him a couple of weeks ago.

It makes him want to cry when he realises how much this effects you.

Then he pulls himself together. You need something right now, and he's going to deliver.

He puts on some clothes before handing you your own, making sure to not touch you as it seems like that's not what you want right now, then gently asks "what can I do to help you?"

He's so patient while you take your time to think of what you want and if you're not sure? That's okay! He'll try some things out until one feels right.

He gets you your favourite snack, then he turns on your favourite comfort show/movie and sits down on a nearby chair watching you like a hawk for any further signs of discomfort.

He doesn't want to leave you alone like this but doesn't want to accidentally make you even more anxious by being too close.

--------

MOUNTAIN

He's pretty intuitive and tends to know what you need after each sexual experience.

Whether it's him taking you on a walk outside for a while, going through some deep breathing exercises.

Or picking up rotten apples and throwing them as hard as you can into a bin/against a wall.

Or just standing by the abbeys lake in his arms when no one's around, your legs around his waist and arms around his neck while he holds your thighs/back and gently rocks you both side to side.

Or if you just want space, he'll make sure to be around in his usual spots until you come find him.

He's determined to make sex a positive experience for you.

You're so deserving of that.

He's also big on communication after each time you have sex and will gently ask you if their's anything you wanted to bring up, or if you don't want to tell him yet, he encourages you to write it down in the journal he bought you with Copias money.

--------

CUMULUS

She's felt a bit of post coital dysphoria every once in a while but not to the extent that she got a diagnosis, so she can only imagine how rough that must feel.

She's amazing at adapting to the different aftercare you need each time.

She tends to keep a special basket in her bedside drawer that consists of; your favourite snacks, your favourite book, a calming spray she made with all your favourite scents and a comfy blanket.

How ever much time you need to recover, she'll supply it.

Sometimes she reads to you while you lie on the bed next to her or on her chest.

She has a very musical, soothing voice, she could be one of those people that read audio books on apps.

Or she’ll hum songs while running her hands through your hair.

--------

CIRRUS

She's shocked and has to pause the conversation for a second before continuing.

She's quick to reassure you that she's completely okay with sex being off the table for however long you need, months, years, decades, she'll wait.

She's determined to figure out how to help you, any way to make you feel more comfortable in the relationship.

This leads to many days and sometimes nights spent in the library, deep in thought as she reads.

Sometimes she'll come back from the library and just hug you with wide eyes before returning to the library once more.

She becomes especially protective of you after sexual intercourse, even if it's been like six hours and you're feeling better.

She just sort of follows you around the ministry as you do your chores, growling at all the siblings for no particualr reason.

No one's aloud to make her darling feel bad for things that aren't your fault (not that anyone dares).

--------

COPIA

He feels very honoured that you trust him enough to open up about this.

After each time you have sex he's quick to analyse how you're feeling from your facial expressions.

Does he need to get out his rats? Do you need a long nap to shake the blues? Do you want to go terrorise people with Sodo and Swiss? He'll get you food and water first, that's good. Right? That could help?

He's not afraid to talk about the real things and if you want to talk about what that sex session brought up for you, he's eager to hear about it and try to help.

He doesn't care what baggage you come with, as long as he can be yours and you can be his, he's the happiest goof on earth.

And don't stress if you go through phases of not wanting to be sexually intimate, he's happy to just hold your hand once in a while.

All he asks is that their's communication between the two of you, he'd hate to cause you any upset.

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halfmoth-halfman · 11 days

Text

Leaving this blog.

With my mini-series finishing up soon, I've decided to leave this blog as well as my AO3 account once it’s finished. This is not a decision I've made lightly, but circumstances have left this a place where I no longer feel safe.

As of now, I won't be deactivating this blog and will be leaving my fics up for anyone who'd still like to read them. I can't say this decision won't change later, but right now I feel that I've put too much work into this blog to simple delete it.

Below the cut is an explanation of why I'm making this decision, and what has been happening on this blog since the end of last year. It's not required to read or anything to understand the gist of this post; it's simply for my own peace of mind knowing that I spoke up about it. There will be topics that are possibly triggering such as harassment, threats, and racism so please mind the warnings and tags.

The mini-series is queued to finish next week, but there will be no more fic polls or wip wednesdays. I'll still be on here to make sure the queue does its job, and maybe post some stuff from my old drafts as a last bit of fun.

I'll have dms tentatively open for the next two-ish weeks for those who'd like to follow my new account, however I will not be answering anything from empty blogs. After that, asks and dms will be turned off, and I won't be coming back to this blog very often, if at all.

I cannot say thank you enough to the wonderful readers I've had and the amazing people I've met. I don't think I would've ever continued writing without your support and friendship. There's nothing I can do to show my appreciation for all of you.

Maybe we'll see each other again. If not, I hope your inspiration is always flowing, and 2024 treats you kindly.

Mothie 💜

Again, TW: rape/death threats, violent racism, repeated harassment, and mental health.

Back in November, I started getting rude, mean-spirited anons. It wasn't anything I was too bothered with because it didn't happen often and, honestly, my inbox gets flooded for a week or so anytime I post about certain topics. I blocked, deleted, reported and moved on thinking whoever it was would get bored and leave.

However, what started as a few rude anons calling me a bitch or stupid turned into a lot of anons being vile and racist which only worsened over the next few months.

I spoke about it in this post (link) near the end of November. In that post, I mentioned that those were the nicer asks and that was not an exaggeration. I have gotten my fair share of shitty anons as seen here (link) when I had to take a break from my blog because of said anons, but I have never gotten the amount of vitriol that I saw in these asks.

When I turned anon off, I started getting even worse messages from empty blogs that would either be blocked or deactivate within a week. When I turned my askbox off, I started getting hateful DMs. When I turned DMs off, it jumped from Tumblr to my other social medias which I had to private, completely avoid, or outright delete.

I got messages attacking my writing, calling me slurs, threatening to find me and rape or kill me, sending me explicit porn and rape videos while insulting my sexuality, and going into gross detail about how much people I interacted with hated me or how I would never be as good as them. I tried to power through it, pretending everything was fine while I pulled away from this blog, from writing, from friends that I loved and talked to every day. Everything about this blog, the fandoms I enjoyed, the people I talked to, made me so anxious because of these constant messages.

I took several breaks while dealing with this in therapy, repeatedly trying to come back and get comfortable on this blog, but within a few days of coming back the messages would start up again, either here or on any of my social medias I tried to unprivate, and I couldn't deal with it.

Only in the last week or two has it started to slow down and stop on a few of my other socials, which is the only reason I even feel comfortable making this post. However, in regards to this blog and my feelings toward it, the damage is done.

I don't think I can ever truly convey how isolating this has been. So many of these messages were about how I've spoken about my struggles as a black woman in fandom, how much of a burden it puts on the people who interact with me, how inferior I am to them and that I am everything that's wrong with fandom.

I felt scared and anxious to talk to anyone about this, especially people mentioned in those messages, out of fear that this harassment would jump to them. There are friendships that I stepped away from that I will never get back because of that. There are friends that I've felt like I was betraying by never telling them about what was happening because I felt too ashamed about letting this get to me.

I constantly worried that making a post like this would feel like, "Oh, Mothie's whining and trauma-dumping into the void about fandom racism again", that those messages would be right and it would force people to feel like they had to support me. Or worse, that people would agree and it would only make things worse. I've wrestled with so much guilt trying to decide to make this post and figure out what to do to make me trust myself again.

Ultimately, I don't think I was wrong for talking about my issues in fandom, and I don't think anything I've said has warranted this kind of harassment. I don’t know the who’s or why’s behind of this, but I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never really know. Truthfully, I'm not sure it even matters at this point. In the end, I think moving on from this blog entirely would be the best thing for me right now.

But, man, does it fucking suck.

This was the blog where I felt comfortable enough to start writing again, to start posting my fics. It's the blog where I met so many friends, got the courage to join new communities, found new hobbies, new music, new things to enjoy in life. It feels silly to say about a blog, but this was a place where I felt like I was able to carve out a space for myself. I put so much work into making it my own, and now the only thing I feel about it is anxious.

Hate messages and threats and racism have always been a part of fandom, and the internet as a whole. I’ve known since I started participating in fandom spaces that it was going to and continue to happen. I've known that I had to have a tough skin, especially if I ever spoke up about problems I faced because no one was going to have my back if I didn't have my own. I thought I had learned how to deal with it, and how to make a safe space for myself. But this goes beyond that. I did not deserve this. No one deserves this.

In some ways, it feels like admitting defeat, like I'm weak or hypocritical for not being as strong as I pretended I was and leaving. In other ways, it feels freeing to start over, and I'm choosing to view look at this optimistically even if it bittersweet. I don't want to let this scare me away from writing or from speaking about things that are important to me. All I can do now is say I'm so incredibly sorry to those I've hurt by stepping away or keeping this secret, and make sure I'm able to at least leave this blog on as happy a note as I can have.

#moth talks #tw: rape #tw: racism #tw: mental health #tw: misogyny #tw: harassment #tw: death threats

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psychewritesbs · 8 months

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Hello there!

I've been giving a little stalk through your blog and I love your posts and insights, thank you for sharing them!

Now for what I came here to say - I've read @littleholmes post on RCT and reincarnation on ch 239 and your addition to it and I wanted to give some input (albeit a bit of in a different direction) as well since I've been thinking about that topic too, if that's alright!

I was like, 100% sure Gege had disposed of Gojo for real up until he deliberately chose to make reference again to the fact that to kill a RCT user you have to go for the head. Honestly, Gege has shown us so many time that we cannot dismiss any small dialogue line in his manga because the story will always make a way to circle all the way back to it that I believe he did not just randomly drop that line there.

SO, assuming Gege did not drop that line randomly nor is baiting us into thinking that, I got myself thinking about possible ways Gojo could make a comeback and the way I see it, I think the most likely way for him to manage to survive would be through RCT usage and eventually later with Shoko and/or Yuta's intervention to fully heal; what I think is something that we must consider as littleholmes said in the original post, is that Gojo's brain is most likely as good as fried after shinjuku showdown, so i think the chances are 1) Gojo isn't able to use RCT at all anymore and is effectively dead, or 2) he still manages to use RCT but has taken so much damage to his brain that he can't use his technique anymore.

Now for character development - I think Gojo's personal identity remains in close contact with his identity as "the strongest". I think Geto underlined that when they broke up at KFC parted ways with each other, and even though I don't think Gojo truly felt like that up until that moment since he still had Geto by his side and to him, they were the strongest, I do think it ended up becoming such a "dominant" self-perception of his that probably blinded everything else about his person and made him almost involuntarily isolate from everyone.

So to say, Gojo's identity as the strongest was what shackled him.

I wonder if it would be possible for Gojo, 29, fed a self-image of something close to godhood ever since a child, to ever part ways with that perception (and what comes with it) while mantaining his technique and remaining... well, the strongest..

I'm beating around the bush but where I wanted to reach was: I think it would be curious to see Gojo as a jujutsu-less leader. For someone like him to whose self-identity was always blurred with status, wouldn't it be freeing to "go north" as a new person, as someone who has more to offer than brute power, who can guide his students from a place of understanding, and be influencial despite lack of jujutsu (which ig would be possible since HQ was masacred)?

Okay, that's it, sorry for the english, for the messy thoughts and for barging in; I just wanted to read your thoughts on this perspective! Have a nice week :)

You: sorry for my English Also you: eloquently speaks in English better than many native English speakers, including myself 🤡😂

Omg anon, you're getting bumped up on the ask queue because this is relevant to this last chapter. Thanks so much for sharing the thoughts! This is good stuff.

I'm not going to lie, I am on camp "he's ded 💀", but all of these arguments in favor of him being alive are good stuff. Gege is so unpredictable that he might just bring him back from the dead all JC style SCREAMING IN SYMBOLISM NERD.

The thing is that ego death is metaphorical, right? And ego death is a prerequisite for the kind of growth you describe for a character that created a metaphorical barrier around himself with a self-ascribed identity as the strongest.

I've gone on the record ok like who's keeping the record lol that Gojo needed to die because I truly believe that, as the pinnacle of the very thing he sought to bring down, he simply needed to die. But after this conversation and littleholme's post, I like the more nuanced approach that, yeah, that attitude he held needed to die AND be reborn into something else.

Whether he can come back from said "death" or not is still up in the air. Everything is fair game at this point with jjk!

Thanks for reaching out, the comments, but above all, sharing your thoughts!

#ask the mental gymnastics anime girl #god i love jujutsu kaisen

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eyra · 6 months

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First let me tell you how much i love torfps! I've actually decided i'll be making that soup very soon, i'm waiting for the perfect cloudy, rainy day and i can't wait! Your writing is always fenomenal and i don't think i'll ever get tired of it. Sirius, my precious thing, i love him so much.

I'm actually a bit emotional over sirius offering his copy of tsh to remus because. well. because of reasons obviously.

But also because it reminded me of how almost ten years ago i gave my copy of tsh to this random guy in my class in high school who i had only known for a few months and who promised he would read it during christmas break and give it back to me afterwards.

Well, almost ten years later, best friends for a decade, he still has that copy and has never read it once, doesn't plan of giving it back to me nor actually reading it. But i'd die for the guy so what can i do.

I ended up buying another copy but every now and then he'll send me pictures of that very first one on his shelves or his nightstand or just around his house, or i'll remind him of that time he stole from me and what a little thief he is. It became our thing.

Still, i don't know what made me offer it to him at all because previous to that, and after, i have never actually had any reasons to lend someone a copy of a book very dear to me even if i do love the idea of it, it just never happened to me before.

In any case i'm really glad i did because as I said, i would die for the guy! Even if he'll never read the damned thing!

ALSO JAMES IS DOWN BAD FOR GOING AT THE POST OFFICE THAT MUCH BECAUSE I COULDN'T THINK OF A WORSE PUNISHMENT IN HELL THAN BEING AT THE POST OFFICE (where i live the system is known nationwide for being awful and it makes you want to hit your head at the walls full speed) James, my boy, the things you do for love...

Ok I love this message so much, not least because it’s the first time I’ve seen the new fic’s title abbreviated and it took me a second to realise what we were talking about. TORFPS is a very awkward and very fun acronym.

Love the story about your copy of TSH and love that you guys are best friends ten years later. The power of that book…

And yes very ironic actually because I was in the Post Office today and I genuinely messaged my sister whilst I was standing in the queue saying “ok no I’m actually going to start screaming in a minute” because the place was a fucking shambles. But James’s mystery man at the Post Office in the village would never allow such chaos in his shop, he’s very much on top of things. He may or may not be saving all the special Christmas stamps for James, who is buying a book a day at this point…

Thank you for reading and for sending this lovely message, means a lot! x

the oldest recipe for parsnip soup 🥄

#ask #the oldest recipe for parsnip soup #thank you!#James’s not-so-mystery man #🙊

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mysterious-cuchulainn-x · 11 months

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AO3 Meme

Thanks @starknstarwars for the tag!

Rules: Give us the links to your wonderful words with the Most hits, Most kudos, Most comments, Most bookmarks, Most words, and Least words.

🥇 Most Hits:

Kinktober 2019 (28,299) / Through Fire and Flood (9,055)

Summary: The hits leaders overall and under my primary username; despite separating out the fics that I posted under my smut-compilations pseud, that's exactly what TFF is, too—written for Zutara Smut Week in the ATLA fandom.

Thoughts: People read my smut, I guess? Which is fair, given how much I've written.

🥇 Most Kudos, Comments, Bookmarks:

(Silhouetting) The Snow on the Breeze

198 kudos

27 comments

48 bookmarks

Summary: Avatar - The Last Airbender AU working conceptually backward from Zuko's visit to the Western Air Temple—only revealed late in the canon show—and imagining a how things might have gone if that experience had affected him more strongly. Currently moored off the coast midway through Season 1, but to be continued once the log circles back around.

Thoughts: My first fic that got serious traffic in terms of responses — I still get the occasional fav/follow on one abandoned fic back on FFN, but the frequency and complimentary comments while I was actively writing/posting this one blew me away. Thanks to all of those people, and my apologies for my rare and sporadic comment responses.

🥇 Most Words:

"Unnatural Selection," Part 1 of A Dream of Small Minds (12,878)

Summary: From the colony of his birth to the tombs of Khar Delba, Miraathis Riskav has never known a life free of the Empire's lash. Lysandra Vael was raised knowing that power was hers to wield, following ancient honor—until her parents were murdered for their ideals. Now, ten years after the Treaty of Coruscant, both arrive on Korriban: One seeking to reform the Sith, the other to destroy them.

Thoughts: One of my many incomplete works, although the plan and intention are still there; I just need to get through the stuff that's ahead of it in the queue. Miraathis may not be my absolute favorite SWTOR OC, but he's where this series started and important to me, and Lysandra is a delight as well if also frustratingly contradictory. (Technically I've also written a much longer fic, but that need not be spoken of, and is coming down as soon as I get close to posting the first chunk of the rewrite—that's the queue that's holding up writing on this one.)

🥇 Fewest Words:

"Shadow of Intent" (355)

Summary: A brief look into the psyche of the Director of Project Freelancer as he tears his project, and himself, apart.

Thoughts: I had completely forgotten about this little snippet, but unlike some larger things I've written I think it still holds up fairly well, all the more so for dating back to my FFN days.

Tagging: This seems to have been going around for a bit, so I'll just add @ftmshepard and anyone else who wants to join in!

#starknstarwars #cuchulainn writes #ao3 memes #smut (mentioned)

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unicornachos · 1 year

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personal post!

hey hi I’m alive sorry for abandoning my blog for like 1.5 yrs??? I had a bunch of health issues and mental health stuff too :’)

Like very full on... god what HASN’T happened.

My body had a weird reaction to the covid vaccines in 2021? I ended up in hospital etc and was sick with mystery fatigue and shit for months and months.... I think I went to hospital like 4-5 throughout 2021? My body seems fine with the MRNA boosters I’ve gotten so maybe something in my body just hated the astrazeneca vaccine?? I’m kinda bitter about it bc of the ambulance bills I had to pay, but still, thank god for vaccines amirite

then, the apartment I was living in and loved got bought by someone who then wanted to move in, so I had to leave the place I loved living to somewhere still nice but way more expenno, and my health issues kinda continued?

then I started a new job

then my mental health got REALLY bad over the 2021/2022 christmas period to the point where I had to call an ambulance for myself bc my mind was in such a bad place.

Then I started taking SSRI’s for depression/anxiety, but I had this weird reaction to the drugs and we think I had serotonin syndrome because of its interaction with the asthma meds I’ve been taking all my life? But at the time no doctors would listen to me and basically gaslit me into thinking all the pain was just a physical manifestation of my anxiety. Anyway, it caused some of the most horrific pain i’ve ever experienced in my life, in particular nerve and muscle pain in my legs, and I had to shower sitting down for weeks, couldn’t walk much around the house, and needed super strong meds to knock me out so I could sleep.

I slowly healed and could walk again and do normal stuff for me around... late April?

While I was recovering I stayed with my mum but still paying rent in Sydney bc all my shit was there, so in June I killed my lease, put most of my shit into storage with a friend’s parent’s mini warehouse they use for their business (absolute legends and wholesome humans and I sent them money every month lol) and moved back home.

I started studying a certificate level course I’d been wanting to get over and done with for ages, so at the end of June I started studying.

Then once again mental health got bad, I tried SSRIs again, thinking it was me who was the problem last time I took them. BUT ACTUALLY, NO. Same physical reaction to the meds as last time, if not worse. It wasn’t my brain making shit up, it was an actual fucking drug interaction issue that ppl had tried to tell me was my anxiety and/or imagination!!! Queue horrific pain, weird symptoms, and once again the inability to walk or clean or work from anywhere but the couch.

Dr and I decided any meds that effect my serotonin levels are a no-go probably forever, and so I’ve been looking into CBD oil over the past few months to see if that will work for things instead.

Now I’m about... 2 months from that reaction, and started CBD oil 2 weeks ago (no reaction, side effects, or really anything yet) and can work at my desk as long as I have a big ass XL foot rest under my legs to keep them propped up, because I get nerve pain if I sit normally :’) I still can’t really go anywhere or walk anywhere other than around the house and for super short periods of time.

Also I powered through and finished my course just last week, so that’s out of the way at least!

Other than that, I’ve just been like. Sleeping, reading, watching shows, napping, sleeping more, trying to eat well.... my job is a bitch but I’m trying rly hard to skill up so I can do more of what I’m interested in! I kind of don’t have energy for much else at the moment??

I have no idea if I’ll post again as regularly as I did a few years back, but I love Tumblr and I always feel glad coming back here and spending time in this place for a bit. These days I mainly only post stuff on my locked private twitter lol. But I have always preferred Tumblr’s longer format and vibes hehe.

ANyway that’s all for now! I hope anyone reading this has been doing ok. These past few years have been fucking tough and if all you have energy for is working and sleeping... you’re valid, dude.

And if you plan to take SSRIs for your mental health, just be wary of serotonin syndrome!!!! Not enough ppl talk about it and a lot of doctors seem to have no idea it exists or also know little about it, but there are lots of cases of it in settings where ppl have been taking other meds and been given SSRIs! I’m not saying don’t take meds if you need them, but just reaaaallllyyy do your research first if you can about adverse reactions and interactions :’)

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gamerswift13 · 1 year

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Bing!

Kia ora, friends!

I think I may need to preface this for those not necessarily keeping up with tech news, so a few weeks ago at this point, Microsoft announced it was releasing ‘The New Bing’, powered by a version of ChatGPT, which is an update to their search engine that competes with Google. Now, if you’re not familiar with ChatGPT, that’s a whole other topic that is well outside of the scope of this post (or even this publication!), but this article from The Verge might be able to give you some context. This new version of Bing is pretty cool and I’ve played around with it a bit, and I wanted to share with you all some of the stuff I’ve gotten out of it.

So on a whim a recently, I decided to ask Bing to write me a poem. To be honest I was kind of shocked, because it’s so good, it feels like magic. I had a particular person in mind when I asked for this, and it just fits so well with how I really feel. Of course I can’t claim any kind of credit for this, a robot wrote it, but I felt like I desperately needed to share it with the world because it’s so fucking good.

The prompt was ‘heartbreak, hatred and loss’, and the following is what it gave me:

You broke my heart into pieces You filled my soul with hatred You took away all my reasons To live, to love, to create Now I'm left with nothing but pain Nothing but memories of you Nothing but scars that remain Of the love that was never true I wish I could forget you forever I wish I could erase you from my mind I wish I could find a new lover Who would be gentle and kind But you haunt me like a ghost You linger in my dreams You are the one I loved the most And the one who made me scream So how can I move on from this loss? How can I heal this wound? How can I bear this cross? That weighs me down like a tomb Maybe someday I'll find peace Maybe someday I'll forgive Maybe someday I'll release The hatred that makes me live But until then, I'll write these words To express what's in my heart To let go of these hurts And make a new start.

After reading that, I decided to give Bing the same prompt but with a “happy ending,” and it wrote this:

You broke my heart into pieces You filled my soul with hatred You took away all my reasons To live, to love, to create But then I met someone new Someone who made me smile Someone who saw me through The darkness and the trial He showed me how to love again He healed my broken heart He gave me hope and joy and pain And a brand new start Now I'm grateful for what you did You made me stronger and wiser You helped me find my true love's bid And become a better person So thank you for breaking my heart Thank you for making me hate Thank you for taking apart My life, my love, my fate Because of you, I found the one Who loves me more than you ever did Who makes me happy and makes me fun Who is my partner and my friend.

These honestly gave me goosebumps when I read them. A machine wrote this. I mean I guess technically not just one machine but many, but it’s still bizarre to me that AI technology finally feels like it has arrived. It’s not perfect of course, and you may have heard about some of the bizarre things Bing was saying before Microsoft put some additional chains on it, but it’s still really fucking cool.

As far as I’m aware, Microsoft is currently taking requests for access to this, but if you have a Microsoft account and a device that can run their Edge browser (there is also a dedicated Bing app on the iOS apps store), you can head to bing dot com and reserve your place in the queue. I think this is really cool; it remionds me of the first time I got to interact with Siri on a family member’s iPhone 4s, how magic that was to finally see a voice assistant that worked. I’m really excited about the future of this technology, y’all!

Thanks so much for reading! As always, if you have comments/questions/suggestions, you can hit me up at the links at the bottom of the page. I also have a personal Tumblr page where I mostly just Taylorpost (the term I invented for endlessly reblogging GIFs of Taylor Swift) and reblog stuff that I like? And, there’s that email address there now too!

Thanks again, everyone. I’ll talk to you all again soon. Ka kite anō au i a koe. 💚

#fiction #short story #short stories #queer writers #trans writers #lgbtqia+#non binary writers #writing #creative writing #writers of aotearoa #writers of new zealand #writers of tumblr #bing #artificial intelligence #machine learning #GPT

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mariolandavid · 2 years

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Siem Reap

I want to preface this post by saying that I am typing it from a laundromat in Cebu, The Philippines. Probably over a month later, and 3 countries after the events... oops. We've been busy living, I guess!

The bus ride to Siem Riep was surprisingly pleasant, and it included two stops in the obligatory tourist spots with quirky wooden figures and a plethora of weird snacks. And a beautiful terrace looking out into rice fields, which after the bleakness of Phnom Penh feels lovely. Just to see some countryside again, something a bit more clean, makes us excited to get to Siem Riep.

Most people, when visiting this part of the country, take a quick plane from Ho Chi Minh and spend a total of 36 hours in this historical place. They arrive, get picked up at 4am the next morning to go to the temples, then fly back to Vietnam straight away or early the next day. We wanted to do something different, so we scheduled a 5 day stay in Siem Riep. Thanks to my powers of persuasion, those 5 days were split as follows:

- 3 nights in Mad Monkey, a hostel chain we've grown to appreciate with helpful staff and clean facilities. The room was a definite upgrade from the one in the Big Easy, with two huge beds and a direct access to the pool.

- 2 nights in a beautiful (almost empty) 4 star resort, called Navutu, with breakfast inclusive and 3 pools.

Our plan was mainly to soak in culture for 3 days, and then have a relax and a tan.

As we arrived in the hostel, after walking with our backpacks for 20 minutes due to our refusal to be ripped off by tuktuks, we knew it was going to be a chill afternoon. You need those sometimes, a time to lay down on the hostel sofas and scroll for a few hours. Or a couple hours of sorting and re-packing your backpack. That was our first night in Siem Riep: we did our laundry, met some couple from New Zealand who told us their favourite things were hiking and getting drunk, had some beers and shots (standard welcome drink fare) and went for dinner close to the Mad Monkey to a Khmer Restaurant.

Keen to see as much as possible in the Angkor Wat complex, which actually contains 3000 temples (possibly more, but they cannot be excavated due to landmines - 30% of the country is covered in them-) and extends 1.62 square kilometres, we'd booked a 2 day tour that included the following temples:

Angkor Wat

Angkor Thom

Ta Prohm

Preah Khan

Neak Pean

Banteay Srei

Pre Rup

We learnt that at the time of its 'discovery' by a Chinese scholar, it was estimated that up to 1 million people had lived in the Angkor Wat complex. The Khmer empire, which extended to Thailand and Laos, was bigger than the Byzantine empire.

Our guide for these tours was called Sak, and he was glad to be back in a job now that tourism had returned. Originally from Siem Riep, he'd had to move to the countryside to work with his father on their farm during the pandemic, and despite being excited to be back in his hometown, he also remarked how different, how much more western, Siem Riep had become. And it was true, really, there were foreign bars and restaurants everywhere, non stop clubs, and foreigner focused markets all over. It was easier to get around than Phnom Penh, that was for sure...

The next morning we were picked up bright and early, with our first stop being Banteay Sreay, or the pink temple due to the fact that it was built with a different stone from the rest of the temple complex. Not only that, but because of its location deep in the forest, it was extremely well preserved and the beautifully delicate stone carvings could still be observed to this day. It was a strong start, made even better by the realisation that compared to pre-Covid times, the temple complex was relatively empty. There were no huge queues, no large groups of tourists to navigate, no weaving around selfie sticks to get a good shot. David had visited the temples in 2005, and he was shocked by how few visitors there were on the day. We practically had this temple, and the subsequent ones, almost to ourselves, as groups of visitors spread out and enjoyed a slower tour pace.

In the first day of tour, we shared a bus with a Polish man who lived in Bangkok and was visiting for the weekend, a Londoner who was actually volunteering in a school and would soon move to Vauxhall (neighbours!) , and a Brazilian/Spanish family who could speak 4 languages each. There was also an older Indian man, a farmer, who spoke fervently in favour of Rishi Sunak (despite not living in the UK), and a couple from Berlin.

That first day we also visited Pre Rup, a funeral temple that was also a mausoleum, and Preah Khan, an impressive large temple which was used for Buddhist teachings. We got to know more about the 'flipflops' from Hindu to Buddism in the Angkor culture, and the effect these changes had on how the temples were built and eventually used. There was also much climbing of stairs, which, coupled with the heat, means you do end up the day exhausted - but you better be ready to do it all again the next day!

When we arrived in Mad Monkey, exhausted and dusty, folks were sinking shots, a DJ was spinning, and they were getting the crowd ready for a big pub crawl. With only one sentence, "Sorry we're doing the sunrise tour tomorrow", the crowds parted and let us slink back into our room, as we would be getting picked up at 4am. Funnily enough, when we were waiting for our pick up that next day (in the middle of a city wide blackout, cute), a number of hostel guests were rolling back in from the Siem Riep clubs, and wished us a great day.

We'd panic-bought all our tickets and passes the first day we arrived, so as to not delay the bus tour on the way to the Angkor Wat sunrise. Nevermind, most of the new people sharing our bus (a group of 4 spaniards, a guy from Malaysia, and a british couple), had not, so we still had to wait in the van whilst munching on our 7/11 breakfast. A few of the people from the day before were also on the van, so we could continue catching up and sharing travel stories.

I expected the sunrise at Angkor Wat, the biggest and most iconic of Khmer temples, to be absolutely mobbed. After all, the temple is on the Cambodian flag, currency, is photographed incessantly, and if I remember correctly, even used to celebrate the new year. It's an absolute marvel. As you explore it, it grows in size, and it's beauty becomes even more pronounced when you stop and consider how on earth they built it in the 12th Century. There were no lifts to construct these towers, there was no machinery to pull these rocks. No, this absolute unit of a temple (honouring death, apparently!), was built by sheer human labour in the space of 3 months. Reportedly 300,000+ people, and more than a few elephants were involved in its construction.

Angkor Wat, we learned, is still the largest religious site in the world. The Khmers chose this location, surrounded by water, as the pressure of the underground rivers and lagoons would stabilise and hold up its incredible height.

For sunrise, all visitors line up just before a small lagoon, and we jostle for camera angles to catch the reflection on the water. Given we didn't choose the best time to visit Cambodia (we'd really centered the whole trip around Australia and New Zealand at first... the 3 months in South East Asia were a small extra that kept growing and growing...), the sunrise wasn't perfectly clear, but it was still an incredible sight. The red light that is so famous, that appears behind the three towering towers, is actually exceedingly rare to witness, so we were happy with our blue and purple view.

We then spent a couple hours in the temple, learning and following the stone carvings in the hallways that talk about the various battles, and depict the ruler King Suryvarman II , which they believe asked for this massive temple to be built as his mausoleum.

After Angkor Wat we visited Ta Prohm, the jungle temple (which appeared in Tomb Raider!), an old Hindu site which has almost been taken over by nature. The trees have sunk its deep roots on the stone, so deep that scientists have injected it with chemicals to stop it growing and destroying the structure of the building. You definitely have to step carefully to avoid tripping over a loose rock or a tree branch.

Ta Prohm is a beautiful sight, and it's no surprise that it's become incredibly famous. It's a real, living reminder, that humans have been trying to fight back nature for centuries, and the realisation that most of the time, nature ends up winning.

We ended the tour with Angkor Thom, a huge flat building with endless hallways that was still in good shape and still had an active Buddhist 'shrine', and the Bayon temple, which had been David's favourite all those years ago. Bayon's magnificence are these hundreds (thousands?) of smiling buddha faces at the top of every tower and column. These stones, huge in size, are everywhere you look in this dizzying maze-like building, and their expressions aren't always very friendly... we got lost trying to recreate a photo David had taken 17 years ago, and actually had to call up our guide to help us get out. Photos don't capture how absolutely massive and labyrinthine these places are.

This second day was absolutely exhausting. With the early wake up and the constant walking, listening, and exploring, it's no surprise we crashed at the hostel when we arrived. After a nap, we explored 'Pub street', Siem Reap's strip of bars, clubs, and restaurants that cater to all tourists (and not just English ones as the name would suggest!). Holding onto our desire to eat Cambodian food in Cambodia, we went to the Khmer Kitchen and had Prahok Ling and Lok Lake, and then I somehow convinced David to have a massage in one of the dozens of massage parlours that line the streets. It was glorious (And hilarious).

The next couple of days in Siem Reap were pure relaxation bliss. We stayed in Navutu Dreams resort, in a huge room with our own terrace, double sinks, and massive shower. There were not a lot of people in the resort when we went, so most of the time we had an entire pool to ourselves, and spent quite a lot of time on the Balinese beds eating spring rolls and drinking delicious fresh fruit juices.

For activities, we attended a surprisingly difficult Yoga class, and booked to attend Kanell, a dinner with a traditional dance performance for our last night in Cambodia. The food was prepared by the Kimsan twins, who run the Embassy kitchen a famous restaurant with Michelin-grade food, and the stand out dish was a roasted chicken with red ant sauce. The dishes were served in between the different dances, and unless you wolfed down your food at a professional speed, at some point you had to choose between watching what you were eating, or watching the dancing. It was a fun experience, and would recommend attending if you're planning on visiting Siem Riep.

As a whole, I'd say Siem Riep deserves more than the 1 day Angkor Wat flying visit that some people seem to do. There's a landmine museum, many more temples than you can take in, and even a well-rated circus! Its liveliness, markets, and easy walkability was a contrast to Phnom Penh's slight seediness, but it's also very obviously a 'tourist town', which isn't very authentic.

It's hard to advocate for yourself when you're between Vietnam and Thailand, but we left Cambodia wishing we'd spent some more time visiting its countryside and beaches, and giving it more of a chance instead of being a 'genocide and temples' place. Maybe next time. For now, Thailand awaits....

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nimata-beroya · 2 years

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Thanks for your answer (it was well worth the wait)! First of all, yippie for continuing Rough Awakening - I've reread it a few times and still love your take. In regard to the SWR parallels: Though I like fics that reunite Cross with TBB, I think a long redemption arc is much more meaningful and - if well executed - would illuminate the struggles that weren't shown by Kallus' redemption arc. There's a lot of potential for powerful story-telling (1/2)

Aww! 😊🥰 I´m glad that I didn't lose you as a follower during my absence. And yes!! Long, well-crafted redemption arcs are the best! I also wish we had had that for Kallus but we might have it someday. There's a post in my queue for today or tomorrow that says that since Andor and Ahsoka are having their own shows, Kallus needs his. That way all known Fulcrum agents have a show. I wholeheartedly agree!!! Can you imagine? They could show everything we didn't get to see in Rebels. Anyway, sorry, I went off the topic.

You're right, my confidence in the TBB writers to pull that kind of storyline off is not the best. There are some issues that irk me with what they've done so far. It could improve in season 2 tho. I'm hoping for the better, but I'm preparing myself for being disappointed, just in case.

Crosshair is such a complex character that I could go on and on about each of his layers. Again, you're right. Part of his motivation is to prove to everyone that he's the best. Many can see it as arrogance, and certainly, there's some of that. But I think it goes much deeper than that. To me, that implies self-esteem issues as in If I'm not the best then I'm nothing. And he's not the only one with similar thoughts, I might add. Both Rex and Echo had said a similar thing ("We're soldiers, what else is there?"). Isn't it ironic that, out of everyone in the BB, Crosshair who despises the regs is the most similar to them?

Anyway, Echo and Rex don't take that sentiment as far as Cross does, but we can only imagine how his cadet days were like. Just as any clone, not meeting the Kaminoans' expectations meant death at best and reconditioning at worst, and even when the batch had "desirable" mutations, they were not exempt from that threat. The trauma of that has Crosshair in survival mode 24/7. Even now. It's that so, that he says it to Hunter in 1x15, that they'd be safe with the Empire. He wants them all safe.

As for which scene confirmed to me that Cross has still the chip in, nothing major. Just a voice-over of him saying YET AGAIN "Good soldiers follow orders". Granted, it could be a voice-over from season 1, but why use it on the trailer? Why do they insist on that, a phrase that means that the clones are controlled if Cross isn't being controlled anymore? It doesn't make sense! the only explanation I can find is that Cross in fact still has the chip. I will die on this hill until I get 100% confirmation, via scan done by Azi3 or Tech. And even then, I might ignore it 🤣. In the GFFA everything is possible, so if Palpatine somehow returned, Crosshair can still have the chip.

And just for you, a tiny teeny bitsy sneak peek from my fic below the cut. It's a bit angsty. Don't kill me! 😅

"What if something is wrong?" Omega asks no one in particular, stopping halfway through her path. "They should be done by now."

Hunter approaches her and goes on one knee to get to her eyes' level. "Nothing is going wrong, ‘Mega. Dr. Kinall and Azi are taking care of Crosshair. He'll be fine."

"But they're taking too long. It was faster when we were on Bracca."

"Probably because there's no surgical pod here like in the cruiser's medbay. The doctor and Azi have to go by hand and hence why it’s taking longer."

"Echo is right. They're going slow because they're being careful. We just have to be patient, okay?"

Omega looks at them in turn and huffs sadly. "Fine!" Then, she returns to her pacing. Hunter and Echo share a worried glance. Even when their arguments to pacify Omega are true, it's hard to ignore her concerns. Same concerns have crossed Echo's mind as well.

#mare replies #tbb crosshair #the bad batch #tbb

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pilothusband · 3 years

Text

All Hail The King

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Alcohol, oral sex, p in v sex, praise kink. I’m a horny bitch, okay? This is purely indulgent.

Word count: 5k

Author’s note: Special thanks to @wyn-dixie for reading this over before I posted it and for enabling this filth. ❤️ This idea entered my brain randomly and I had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I want your feedback. If I had Photoshop I would have made an edit of Frankie with a crown for this but I don’t have it so here’s this gif instead.

The bar is humming with activity, but the table you’re nestled at in the back provides enough shelter to allow you all to converse without having to yell at each other.

You’ve been nursing a glass of water for a while now, since you’re the designated driver this week. It doesn’t bother you, though— you’re just happy to be out with your friends.

Every once in a while you steal a glance over at Frankie, who’s sitting diagonally across the table, next to Santiago who is directly across from you. Benny is to your left, his large body crowding you into the wall, and his brother Will is at the head of the table.

“Hey Fish,” Benny claps a hand on his shoulder. The force of his hand jostles Frankie’s solid body backwards a little, but to his credit he doesn’t flinch. “How are things with that girl you were seeing? Jennessa? Jennifer?”

You take a sip of your water and look down at the table to mask your interest at the sudden change in conversation.

“Jessica,” Frankie clears his throat. “They aren’t. We didn’t have much in common so she broke it off after a few dates.”

Queue the internal cheering. Jessica was a bit of a wet mop, to be honest. She never had anything to say when Frankie brought her around and she would scoff at everything that was slightly unsavory in her eyes. Deep down, you had to come to terms with the jealous twinge you felt in your gut every time she would squeeze Frankie’s shoulder affectionately, her immaculately manicured nails pressed harshly into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, Fish,” Benny said, slinging his arm around the man, the clumsy movement knocking his hat slightly askew. “Her loss, brother.”

“Here here,” Santi agrees, raising his bottle in the air. “To the king!”

Benny cheers clinks his bottle against Santiago’s echoing his sentiment. Will huffs out a laugh and Frankie groans, hiding his face in his hands.

You gape at the two men in question, but they just giggle like a couple of school girls.

“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty,” you say, trying to figure out what they’re talking about. You look over at Frankie as he takes an impatient sip from his drink.

Benny just about spits out a mouthful of beer onto the table.

“Shut the fuck up, guys.” Frankie warns his friends. “Seriously.” Santi and Benny give him an innocent look. Will focuses his gaze on the bottle he’s holding, picking at the paper label, damp and curling at the edges from condensation .

Santiago leans towards you, his breath hot in your ear.

“We call him the pussy eating king.”

You thank the powers above you weren’t mid-sip, because the choked sound that emits from your throat was both involuntary and sudden. Heat blossoms in your stomach and your thighs clench together as you make eye contact with Frankie. He looks away nervously, embarrassed even.

“So was this a self coronation or..” You trail off, grinning at the flush on Frankie’s cheeks.

“It was that really talkative chick he was seeing for a while,” Benny says, turning to you. “Brianna?”

“Brenda,” Frankie sighs.

“So Brenda crowned you the pussy eating king?” You ask Frankie, who still refuses to meet your eyes.

He grumbles in response, waving off the subject.

“Yeah, she went on about it in detail for the whole night one time. I think you were away for a work trip or something” Santiago is absolutely smirking, loving the way Frankie is physically shrinking under the group’s attention. “Come on Fish, don’t be so modest. You’re a beast in the sack, it’s a good thing!”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You remember why you weren’t there. It was because you couldn’t stand seeing Frankie so happy with another woman, so you feigned sick.

“Well, I can see why things with Brenda didn’t last,” you respond, knowing Frankie was kind of a private guy. “But hey, at least she can tell all her friends she got the royal treatment while it lasted.”

Benny, Santiago and even Will all roar with laughter, fists banging raucously on the table. Frankie huffs out an embarrassed laugh, despite himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” he takes a swig of his beer, emptying it. “I need another drink.”

“Hey Ben, what time is your fight next week again?” Will calls over to his brother. You’re grateful for the change of subject. Frankie’s had enough torture for one night and you aren’t sure how many more details about Frankie’s sexual prowess your nether regions can take.

Benny turns towards Will to talk about his upcoming match and you take a sip from your glass to try to hide how flustered you’re feeling. Did this bar get hot all of a sudden?

The glass lands back down with a dull thump and you look up to find Santiago studying you, his eyebrow raised.

“What?” You don’t mean to sound aggressive, but his gaze is unnerving, as if he’s trying to suss out something you’re hiding.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He smirks and tips up his beer, taking a long gulp. You roll your eyes at him and look down to pick at your nails.

A few moments later, Frankie returns with a fresh beer and you can feel Santiago turning his face in your direction again to read your body language. You school your reaction, fingers digging painfully into your pint glass. Sometimes Pope is too fucking nosy for his own good.

He must lose interest after a moment though, because he turns his attention back to Benny, who’s still talking about his upcoming fight.

The topic doesn’t come up again, thankfully, and you’ve dropped all the boys off at their separate destinations, save for Frankie, who lives the closest to you.

The car ride alone with him isn’t as tense as you were expecting, since his tongue has been loosened with the fair amount of alcohol he’s had tonight. You both chat easily about the upcoming week and how much you’re dreading going back to work on Monday.

You can’t resist one smart remark though, as you pull up to Frankie’s house.

“Your castle awaits, my liege,” you quip, trying and failing to hide your amused smile as you look over at him.

Frankie throws his head back and laughs freely, opening the car door with a wink.

“Goodnight, my queen,” he bows exaggeratedly before shutting the car door.

The butterflies don’t tamp down until you’re securely inside your own apartment, locking the door behind you.

That night was a month ago, which means it’s been a whole fucking month since your brain flew the coop. Every time Frankie does just about anything with his mouth, everything else around you ceases to exist.

Take last Thursday, for example. Frankie dropped by after work to help you change your porch light, since the fixture is too heavy and the light is too high up to easily reach.

He steps up the ladder with ease, unscrewing the fixture and holding it with his left hand. He puts the screwdriver in his mouth so he can hold onto the ladder as he gingerly hands you the fixture. You grab onto it and hand him the replacement bulb so he can swap them out.

He gets the lightbulb in and gestures towards you to hand the fixture back, which he screws back in before stepping down.

“Blegh,” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, an action that has your last two brain cells screeching to a halt. “Screwdrivers taste awful.”

His statement is cute, self-deprecating, and you try to respond appropriately but all you can do is gape at him like a fish out of water.

‘Get your shit together, he’s wiping off the taste of rust, not your pussy,’ you try to mentally shake yourself out of your stupor, but it does no good.

He turns back towards his toolbox to drop the screwdriver in and close the lid.

“All set,” he says, dusting off his jeans. He sounds a little uneasy, probably because you’re acting like a complete weirdo.

“Thank you so much, Frankie. I really appreciate it.” You find your manners and pull him in for a hug, secretly reveling in how good he smells.

“Any time,” he tells you as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes softly.

Before he pulls away you make a spur of the moment decision, and reach up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He’s so impossibly warm and so inviting, you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sparse hairs on his face tickle your chin.

Frankie clears his throat and ducks his head down, mumbling a hurried goodbye before he heads back to his truck, toolbox in hand. You don’t miss the way his lips are turned up and the crows feet make an appearance in the corner of his eyes, nor do you miss the brilliant flush that spreads over his face and down his neck.

It’s Saturday now and your torment knows no end. You decide you’re too tired to go out and opt to invite the guys over for a movie night, to which they all agree.

You decide you’ll just have to look away every time Frankie takes a sip of a drink, or eats a handful of popcorn. Or God forbid, if he licks his lips.

The group chat has been a nightmare, with everyone trying to come up with a movie to watch. Benny wants to watch The Expendables, Will mentioned something about wanting to see Dunkirk for ages now and Santi is playing devil’s advocate, disagreeing with all of their choices but not coming up with one of his own.

Frankie has been quiet in the chat, besides initially agreeing to come over initially.

It’s 9:00 PM, you have a 30 rack of beers in the fridge and some popcorn set out for everyone. All you have to do now is wait for the guys to arrive. Your phone chimes with a notification from Benny.

Benny and the Jets 🥊: Sorry lady, I got called in for a last minute practice. Raincheck?

Ironhead 🦸🏼: I gotta duck out too. The lady wants to have a date night. Sorry!

You type out a reply to them, a little disappointed but bidding them a good night all the same.

A knock sounds on the door and you rush over to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Frankie, wearing the softest looking navy blue hoodie you’ve ever seen, along with his Standard Oil cap. He looks as unsure as ever, holding a bottle of red wine.

You chirp an over-enthusiastic greeting, internally cringe at it, and step aside to welcome him in.

“I know you like red wine, so I got some for you on the way here. I hope it’s the kind you like.”

You accept the wine and look at the label. It’s a California Zinfandel. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite wine.

“I love it, thank you so much.” You pull him into a hug, nuzzling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. He returns the hug just as enthusiastically, pulling away to kiss your forehead.

“Is Santiago on his way?” You ask, padding into the kitchen to grab a glass from your cabinet. “Do you want a glass? Or I have some beer if you’d prefer.”

“Beer is perfect, thanks,” he says a little breathily as he looks over at you. “Santiago said something came up and that he’s sorry.”

Something feels a little fishy with the three of them ducking out all at the same time, but you don’t mention it as you hand him a beer and search through your drawer for a bottle opener. A few minutes later, you’re both set up on the couch and are scrolling through Netflix for a movie.

“I have no idea what to watch. Do you?”

“Want to watch Civil War? I know the guys will bitch we’re continuing the rewatch without them but they can deal.”

You tip your head back and laugh, navigating over to your Disney+ app.

Frankie takes off his hat and sets it aside while you spread a blanket over your laps, braving a chance to scoot closer to him. He takes the hint and wraps his arm behind your shoulders, nestling you closer to his chest. You settle in and try to pay attention to the movie, despite the wild fluttering that is taking place in your stomach.

Frankie shifts uncomfortably and winces a little. You can tell he’s trying to hide it, but little does he know you’ve been watching every single movement he makes like a hawk. Or a nervous lap dog.

“Does your back hurt? I can move,” you start to get up but Frankie grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back in.

“No, stay. I just need to find a comfortable position.”

You make a soft noise of surprise when he lifts you up and pulls you towards him, settling back so he’s spread out on the couch. You’re settled on top of him, your legs stretched out over his with your back to the cushion, half draped over his torso.

This position has your heart thumping hard in your chest. His face was just a few inches from yours. All he’d have to do is tilt his face towards yours, and you’d be practically kissing.

Focusing on the movie is harder than ever. Your left hand rests on Frankie’s chest and your right is near his head. Without even thinking, you reach out and start stroking your fingers through his soft curls. He hums contentedly, the pleasant sound rumbling through his chest.

A hand makes its way up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, landing on your shoulder.

You brave a glance at Frankie and feel your heart stutter in your chest when you realize he’s been looking at you. His eyes are as dark as ever, twinkling against the flicker of your TV.

He closes the gap and captures your lips in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft, melding to yours perfectly. The brush of your mouths together is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to lick at him and he complies, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation as your tongues meet languidly.

You shift your leg so it slots between his and both of your hands find his shoulders and squeeze them, eliciting a soft mewl from Frankie’s mouth. His hands are hot on your back and he slides one down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh over your leggings.

Your hips press into his, rutting into him, soft pants falling from your mouth– mingling with his. You need to be closer, closer, closer. He tightens his grip on your ass in response and rolls his hips so you can feel how hard he is against your belly.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, breaking the kiss, words tumbling out between his ragged breaths.

You can feel yourself throbbing for him, wetness rushing to your core as his hushed baritone makes your head spin with need. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re convinced this is a dream. That there’s no way you’re dry humping the man of your dreams on your couch right now.

You duck down to hide your expression, not wanting to ruin the moment with your anxiety and doubt. You’ll take whatever this man gives you, even if it’s just this moment.

You busy yourself by peppering small kisses on his neck, trailing them up to his jaw.

“Hey,” he slows your movements and holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up gently up to look at him.

“I want you. I want this. Do you?”

You feel the urge to look away, his gaze is intense and laser-focused on you. Eye contact has never been your strong suit, so this was a lot for you to handle. But you fight the urge to flinch and stare back, searching to see if there was anything that will give away any trepidations. His expression remains hard set, serious but not unkind. It’s just like Frankie to have eyes as clear as day, giving away all of his secrets. They’re just like him— strong, unrelenting in their hardness and softness.

“Yes,” you reply. Your voice cracks a little, thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.”

You feel embarrassment wash over you with the admission, but Frankie doesn’t let it last long before you crushes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He breaks it off after a moment, lips swollen and pink.

“Baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

He strokes a hand down your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as a goofy smile blooms over your face.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” he whispers, his thumb catching on the swell of your bottom lip. “Will you let me make you feel good?”

You blink and swallow heavily, a fresh wave of arousal flooding to your center as the deep rasp of his voice utters those words, smooth as caramel– dousing over you like kerosene on a fire.

You nod, not trusting your voice at this very moment.

“I need you to say it out loud, honey,” he says, his lips brushing against yours ever so lightly.

“Yes, Francisco,” you breathe out. “Make me feel good.”

He bites your bottom lip and tugs, then growls playfully before he grabs your shoulders and flips you over. You let out a delighted shriek, giggling as he lifts up the hem of your shirt and kisses every inch of skin that’s revealed.

“Wait,” you call out. He stops his movements immediately. “You first.”

Frankie grins. You want to press your fingers into the dimple that appears and feel the scratch of his beard under your nails. He leans back and lifts his sweatshirt over his head, the grey t-shirt he’s wearing sticks to the inside of it and he rolls both garments down his arms.

His chest is bare to you now, smooth except for a smattering of hairs in the middle of his chest, and a patch leading down into his jeans. You want to reach out and run your hands down the planes of his torso and follow the path of hair, but your arms aren’t long enough to reach.

You remove your shirt, leaving you in your leggings and bra. It’s a soft lace number, a delicate pink with no underwire. You watch as his hungry gaze roams over your chest. To your surprise, he doesn’t motion for you to take it off. Instead, he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

He moves downwards, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your neck. He continues his path and mouths between your breasts, one of his hands reaches out to squeeze the plump flesh in his large hand. You nipple instantly pebbles under his ministrations and he pulls the fabric aside to tease it with the pad of his finger. You moan softly at the sensation and yelp in surprise when he sucks it into his mouth and bites it, soothing the sharp sting with a flick of his tongue.

“Mmm, love how responsive you are already,” he hums, moving down. Your back arches as his mouth makes a hot trail down the rest of your torso. You look down and notice he’s left wet patches where his mouth has been, coating you in saliva and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

He reaches the waistband of your leggings and pushes them down, letting out a strangled groan when he gets an eyeful of your panties, the same shade of pink that matches the bra you’re wearing.

“So fucking sexy,” he breathes.

He peels your panties down your legs and pulls them off along with your leggings, leaving you completely bare from the bottom down. You start to cross your legs to hide yourself, feeling self-conscious at how exposed you are, but Frankie grabs your thigh to halt the movement.

“You better not hide this pretty pussy from me,” he says, licking his lips.

You half expect him to dive in, but he takes a moment to look at you. He’s resting a hand on your hip. His pointer finger makes a path down, tracing an invisible line up and down your slit. You hiss at the ghost of his touch and thrust your hips towards his hand, seeking out more friction.

Frankie lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction and leans forward to plant a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You let out a shaky breath in anticipation– your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. He kisses up your thigh until he reaches the apex between your legs, then licks a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue, pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you can’t help it– you buck up into his mouth and grab onto his hair and tug at the strands. He grabs onto the flesh of your hip and whimpers into your pussy. Despite being almost dizzy with need, you feel a rush of power knowing you have this effect on him.

“You taste so fucking good. So wet for me,” he punctuates his words with bold licks up and down. “Never want to stop.”

He changes patterns, making tight circles on your clit with his tongue. The sudden switch has you mewling and your legs clamp around his head involuntarily. Frankie grabs your thighs and wrenches them apart, hooking them over his shoulders as he latches onto your pussy. His hands are on your ass, holding you up as your back arches off the couch.

All you can do is scramble at the cushions below you for purchase as Frankie buries his face into your cunt, lapping at you with abandon. His tongue licks into you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before; it has you seeing stars.

You have no idea how he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to pull the pleasure from you so naturally. Every lick feels like it’s searching for treasure, every suck hits somewhere deep inside, reverberating through the muscles of your thighs and up in your abdomen.

He gently places you back down to the cushions and rubs at your entrance with his pointer finger, looking up at you for permission.

“Yes, please–“ you whimper brokenly. He complies immediately and plunges it into you, following with a second finger, and curls them up. His pace is slow at first and he flicks his tongue out to play with your clit at the same time. He’s soon spurred on by your moans and sets a brutal pace. You once again feel the urge to clamp around him to increase the pressure, but Frankie uses his broad shoulders to hold your thighs apart.

Seeing his shoulders, bare and perspiring from his intensive movements, so wide and flushed, coupled with the furrow of his brow, his eyes pinched closed, makes something primal within you awaken. You barely have time to feel your orgasm coming before it’s hitting you– thighs shaking, back arching, hands in his hair. You don’t even realize it, but you;’re shrieking his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s groaning in reply, milking you through it with his fingers and tongue, lapping up your release, syrupy sweet and indulgent.

He doesn’t stop until you’re flinching from overstimulation. He kisses up your body lazily, taking his time before capturing your lips. You kiss him back, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. He grinds into you, his jean-clad erection rubs against your aching cunt and rekindles the fire, molten heat shooting through your entire body.

“Wanna fuck you so bad, baby,” he says, panting the words into your mouth.

You moan and break the kiss.

“Want to take this to my room?”

He doesn’t reply, but instead swings his body off the couch and picks you up bridal-style. He stumbles a little with the first steps and you both laugh, kissing each other with each step he takes towards your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed softly and you let loose another delighted giggle when Frankie flops over you dramatically, caging you in his arms. Your tongues tangle together in an impossibly sensual kiss. He’s momentarily distracted, caught up in the feel of your body underneath his with the soft touches of your tongue, and you take the opportunity to roll him over and straddle his hips.

Frankie is looking up at you as if he’s in awe, like he can’t believe you’re here right now, naked from the waist down and grinding down on his hard cock, tenting his jeans.

You move down his body and zip his fly down, pushing down the denim along with his boxer briefs. His cock springs free, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. You can’t help but lick the bead of precum, and a broken whine rips from Frankie’s throat. His hands are clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the mattress beneath him.

You’re bobbing your mouth up and down his length, tongue licking around his shaft and cheeks hollowing out. His moans are loud, constant. He’s babbling praise, telling you how fucking amazing your mouth feels, how badly he wants to fuck you. It’s a heady feeling, bringing a strong and quiet man to his knees like this. You love that he’s letting you know how much he’s breaking for you.

Your tongue finds its way down to his balls and you suck them into your mouth, moaning at the musky taste. His moans are high pitched now and his hand is squeezing your shoulder.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he grabs onto your hair to pause your movements. “I need to feel you.”

You give him one last broad lick up his shaft and shift back up, and look down at Frankie to catalogue the number you’ve done on him. He’s absolutely wrecked– brown eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly with his uneven breaths.

You remove your bra, stretching it over your head and throwing it to the side. Frankie follows the movement and lets out a needy, staccato moan at the sight of you, completely bare before him.

You reach down and kiss him soundly on the mouth, lining his cock up with your entrance.

“I’ve got you, baby boy,” you coo, sinking down on his length.

“Fuck,” he grits out between his teeth.

You give yourself a moment to get used to his size and rock into him. His hands fly up to your chest, squeezing lightly and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

��So fucking big,” you pant out. “So good for me.”

It seems Frankie loves praise as much as you do, evidenced by the twitch of his cock inside you.

Your pace is agonizingly slow. You’re trying to tease out the moment, stretch it out so it lasts forever. It doesn’t last long– you can’t stand it anymore. You bounce up and down on him, snapping your hips when they meet his.

“So fucking perfect,” he pants out. “Wanna fuck you from behind.”

You breathe out a moan and stop your movements. Frankie mistakes your pause for hesitation and reaches up to brush the hair out of your face.

“We don’t have to,” he says, voice gentle, brow furrowed in concern.

“No, fuck. No, Frankie. I want to.”

You gingerly get up and whimper at the loss when he’s no longer inside you. Frankie sits up, shoulders rocking forward and cock bobbing with his movement as he settles onto his knees. You watch him and bite your lip, getting on all fours and lifting your ass up in the air to present yourself to him.

Frankie can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and sinks forward to lay an open-mouthed kiss on your pussy from behind before he lines himself up. He enters you without hesitation, hips slapping against your ass rhythmically, setting a decisively fast pace.

All you can hear is the filthy sounds of your wet pussy as he pounds into you, along with your strangled moans, and his heavy breathing, laced with whispers of praise you can’t discern. The waves of pleasure are too much, too strong. You can feel the familiar build up of an orgasm. Your head is in the clouds as it climbs and climbs– then crashes.

His fingers on your clit is what does you in. Your whole body shakes and all you can do is whimper and moan around his cock while he fucks into you. The strong, practiced rock of his hips become sloppy as he chases his release, muttering words of adoration into the air as he pulls out and cums, spilling onto your back. He pulls every last drop out of his cock before collapsing over you, forehead resting on your spine as he catches his breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “Should have done this ages ago.”

You both laugh and Frankie gets up to grab a wet face towel from the bathroom

A little while later, you’re both in bed, blissed out and wrapped up around each other. The movie, drinks and snacks are all forgotten. All that matters is here and now– your breaths mingling together as you kiss each other lazily, tongues probing slowly.

In the other room, both of your phones ping on the coffee table with unheard notifications.

The first text is from Santiago.The other boys follow suit, not a minute apart.

Pope 🤦🏻‍♂️: 👑

Benny and the Jets 🥊: 👑

Ironhead 🦸🏼: 👑

Neither of you see the texts until the next morning.

The following weekend, it’s Santiago’s turn to be the designated driver. He’s parked outside of Frankie’s house, waiting to pick both of your asses up. He starts to tap his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel after the first 15 minutes.

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” He asks Will and Benny. They all know the answer, but don’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Frankie has you crowded against the front door, your sundress is hiked up and his face is buried in your pussy. Neither of you can hear the sound of Santi’s impatient honking over your moans.

And if you end up going to the bar sans panties because you can’t find them before Santiago is pounding his fist on the door, well that’s just a secret you and Frankie will have to keep.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen

#frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #francisco morales pilot of my heart #all hail francisco morales pussy eating king

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symphonicmetal101 · 3 years

Text

Over-Tired OM Boys HCs

Here's the initial thing that got me started thinkin bout the boys, but here ya go-

Lucifer

- this man, once he hits overtired, is extremely gullible, which is why he locks himself in his office until hes done what needs to be done

- also cannot keep a train of thought for more than 20 seconds and it drives him nuts

- and then he loses his focus even more because he's upset

- you tried knocking on the door once, and told him when you closed your eyes, you couldnt see and needed to go to the doctor

- man went from frustrated to concerned in a heartbeat, only after opening the door realizing how foolish he had just come across

- but now the door was open and you had access to him, and reluctantly he let you drag him to bed

- Will deny it ever happened, and if you bring it up, expect a punishment.

- Though he is grateful you made him rest so he would not become the laughingstock of his brothers

Mammon

- over tired bby will ramble until he forgot what he was talking about and space out for a solid ten seconds before snapping back

- it doesnt matter if you're listening intently or only half listening, he makes no sense what so ever.

- If you can record him without him noticing you (which is easy to do in this state) and play it back once he's rested he's either facepalming and blushy for the nonsense he spewed or he managed to pick out what he may have been trying to say and gets super excited, going off on another more understandable tangent.

- Gaming is a priority

Levi

- Sleeping is not

- Levi usually ends up just tired, not wired but dear lord when he does-

- All that energy and passion he pours into the way he speaks about anime and manga?

- Its physical now...oh and hes slightly more extroverted

- Though its a rare sight, over tired Levi works out and rambles about whatever it was that made him stay up that long, and hes doing it all in your room

Satan

- Over tired Satan is a rare sight, though it happens often, as he holes up in his room

- He gets an impulse to clean, and will tidy and clean and organize his books, though it never lasts

- and theres no escape, he will start crying if he feels you arent paying attention or if you're about to leave

- Depending on who you are, he either becomes 10000000% testier, or hes a giggly mess, there is no in between

Asmo

- Finds everything funny, but will get pouty if it came from someone he doesnt really like

- Over tired Asmo is rare, likely the rarest of all the boys to see, save for Barbatos

- but he is a chaotic little fucker

- dear god

- He will raid the fridge and pantry worse than Beel, specifically when hes on a diet-

- Then MC you're either in for one hell of a story from Asmo, most of them his not-so-proud drunk moments that he never talks about for that reason but he cant stop himself-

-his laugh sounds even more high pitched than normal, and a little maniacal, and he finds everything he says hilarious

- you will go on an adventure probably

Beel

- spaces out randomly, and also cries easily, dont point this put to him and say yes to his adventures, he'll change his mind a thousand times on the way- just go with it

- overtired Beel happens quite a bit, usually after the victory of a game and the adrenaline starts to wear off- and then he still has stuff to do

- but instead of "oh" and maybe a small laugh when he realizes what happened its more ".....oh" and then he looks like he's having an existential crisis

- you will have to physically lead him to bed after that, he's too busy thinking and slowly eating whatever is in his hand

- he snacks to keep himself awake, and poor himbo man is even more gullible than usual

- will want to cuddle, but wont ask when hes like this

Belphie

- out like a bulb immediately

- The Avatar of Sloth? Over tired? yes it happens unfortunately-

- He gets even grumpier than usual because he can’t sleep

- Then at night its just restless tossing and turning

- yes even the seemingly flawless butler gets overtired, but opposite of Asmo, he is far better at concealing it

- Usually happens when he intentionally sleeps through important meetings and days for Lucifer back to back to back

- It’s another excuse to hold you though, so he might make himself over tired more often

Barbatos

- You will see him stifle yawns

- And when given instructions, his eyes widen slightly with concentration as he whispers the instructions over and over under his breath so nobody can hear, but its clear his lips are moving

- he cannot be bribed

- he can be intimidated though, and how you ask?

- “threaten” to go tell Beel or Dia because you know full well if they were asked, they would carry Barb back to his quarters if you can’t do so on your own-

- no he will not sleep

- Usually that’s enough to convince him, but you have to stay near to make sure he doesn’t leave until he’s well-rested, otherwise he’ll leave as soon as possible and try to get back to work

- buuuut if you’re “on guard” or in bed with him- well he might have a few extra minutes or hours to spend with you

Diavolo

- overtired Diavolo is rather rare, as Barbatos is very strict with the prince's schedule

- Still though if Diavolo truly wants to keep going...all Barb can do is prepare for the future

- Which uh...just means being able to drag the prince to his quarters

- If you thought he was lively before, being overtired is kinda like giving caffiene to a squirrel for him

- Until he suddenly crashes....which, depending on how you like his company, can be unfortunate as his kick can last for hours

Simeon

- Simeon goes into zombie mode when he's overtired

- He hates to admit it, but it tales every oumce of strength to not fall asleep in the middle of classes

- Not that Luke would let him

- He's a little dazy, a little slow, but even just a power nap gets the angel going again

Luke

- Babie boy, don't stay up with the big kids-

- an overtired ten year old follows a certain progression

- grumpy, denial in need of sleep, chatterbox, chatterbox, chatterbox, chatt- oh he fell asleep in the middle of his sentence

- will not acknowledge anything in the morning, even as he walks out of his bedroom instead of the random place he slept, instead carrying on the conversation he left half finished the night before

Solomon

- hah

- he has spells

- who needs sleep?

- bastard also pushes himself too far, but disguises it with more ease than anyone else, at least until its just the two of you

- He tends to run his hand through his hair more often, fidgets more

- hes a little jumpy too, so continue with caution if you dont want to be turned into a frog-

Anyways, I know its been a hot minute since I posted anything really uh...substantial? I guess this will have to do?? I'm going to be travelling for a bit, so I apologize for slow updates, also dont have the patience to make a queue

Thank y'all for supporting me anyways, it means a lot!! Keep an eye out for the next OC Hunger Games~

Love ya!!

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #v talks #obey me! shall we date?#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me scenarios #obey me thoughts

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haeva · 2 years

Text

Be it for reason (be it for love)

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Sharon Carter

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Years after the Blip, Natasha visits Sharon in Madripoor, asking her to come home.

Author's note: I already posted the ending to this fic as sneak peak here. Title is from My Silver Lining by First Aid Kit. No beta we die like Nat.

Natasha hadn’t been to Madripoor in a very long time, but quickly noted that even after all these years it had not changed a bit. She was met with loud noises as she made her way down the streets to the art gallery. Sharon’s art gallery. The thought of seeing Sharon again made Natasha’s heart beat faster. They hadn’t spoken since they’d both gone their separate ways running from the US government. For years, Natasha had dreamed about the moment that she’d get to see Sharon again. After everything that had happened, after Yelena…She had to bring Sharon home and she knew that if she failed, it would break her heart once again.

A few days after the Blip, Ana had contacted Natasha and told her about Yelena’s disappearance. Natasha had thanked her for coming and showed her out.

Once Ana was gone, she had closed the door behind her, dropped to the ground and cried until she couldn’t anymore. Her little sister was gone forever and it was all Natasha’s fault.

She tried to cope with the loss the only way she knew how, by focussing her mind on something else. Sharon’s whereabouts were still unknown and so that is what Natasha focussed on: Finding Sharon and bringing her home. It was the thought of getting to hold Sharon in her arms once again that got Natasha through the time that followed. Her efforts appeared to be in vain, however, and even nearly five years later there was still no trace of the former Agent 13.

Natasha had all but given up her search when finally something showed up on her radar. It was just a case of art theft, a secret gallery in Madripoor selling stolen pieces, but Natasha looked into it anyway.

She’d stopped breathing for a second when months later she’d finally gotten the confirmation that Sharon was alive. For the first time in years, Natasha felt hopeful again. Yes, Sharon had resorted to a life of crime, but that was understandable, forgivable. Besides, it were the Avengers’ actions that had gotten Sharon into this mess in the first place. Natasha decided there and then that she would do everything in her power to bring her friend home and make things right.

Now that she was finally here though, she started having second thoughts. Would Sharon still want to see her after all these years? Would she blame Natasha for everything that had happened? Or would she be happy to see her dear old friend? Would she want to come home at all?

A thought appeared in Natasha’s mind, of Sharon sitting right next to her on a plane back to the United States. Her head was resting on Natasha’s shoulder and the two of them were laughing, like they used to do. She knew it was just a fantasy, but it gave Natasha the final push to step inside.

Sharon wasn’t expecting her. Natasha had used the false identity of a wealthy French woman to arrange a meeting to buy some priceless art piece.

She was approached by a woman in her twenties wearing a dark gray pantsuit. Sharon’s assistant, Natasha assumed.

“Catharina Dubois? Miss Carter is waiting for you,” the girl said curtly. Natasha nodded and followed her through the hallway. The woman opened a door for her but didn’t walk through herself.

This was obviously the guest room. There were beautiful paintings hanging on the walls and there was a sitting area with a comfortable, but expensive looking couch. On the table stood two empty glasses together with a bottle of Merlot, Catharina Dubois’ favorite wine.

Sharon did her research, Natasha thought. She wasn’t surprised; that woman always came prepared.

As if on queue, Sharon Carter entered the room from a backdoor, politely smiling at the person she thought was a client. “Miss Dubois, it’s such a pleasure to meet you,” she said, shaking Natasha’s hand. “I’ve heard many things about you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Natasha answered, in a flawless French accent. “I’ve been told that your gallery is the finest there is. And if I may, so are you, it seems.” It was true; Sharon looked just as beautiful as Natasha remembered her.

Sharon chuckled and Natasha felt the sudden urge to find the real Catharina Dubois and punch her in the face. She wasn’t even Sharon’s type; Sharon didn’t like blondes.

“What you heard is true. All of my pieces are real. You ask for it, I’ll make it happen. For a price, of course.”

“Of course,” Natasha repeated, forcing a smile on her face. “Which is exactly why I’m here. To make you an offer that you just can’t refuse.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Which is what, exactly, Miss Dubois?”

Natasha sighed as she removed her wig and photostatic veil. “You’re seriously making me do the reveal all on my own? You truly are no fun, Carter.”

Sharon chuckled although it sounded more like a scoff. “How was I supposed to know that it was you? Aren’t you the world’s greatest spy?”

Natasha smirked. “Catharina Dubois is engaged. To a man. You really should have known that,” she teased. Of course, Sharon knew that. The guy was the epitome of shady and it made way more sense to think Catharina would cheat on him.

Sharon rolled her eyes. “So now that we’re officially not playing that game, why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here,” she demanded. She sat herself down on the couch and motioned for Natasha to do the same.

She obeyed, but not before pouring two glasses of Merlot and handing one to Sharon.

“You could’ve at least served my favorite drink,” she joked, before taking a sip of her wine.

“I would have if I had known you were coming. That is what you get for pretending to be French. Cute accent, by the way. Very believable.” They both laughed and Natasha felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

The two of them were talking like the old friends that they were, which meant that Sharon didn’t hate her or blame her. If she did she would’ve let Natasha know, like she always did when she was angry. Not in words, but there was a specific type of coldness to Sharon when she was mad at you, and Natasha had grown well-acquainted with it over the years. It made her wonder why they were still friends sometimes, but in her heart she knew she never wanted to lose Sharon.

“Come back home with me.” She tried to make it sound like an offer, but it came out more like a plea.

“You know I can’t do that. Even if I wanted to, I’m still a criminal in the United States.” Sharon paused. “Unlike you apparently, and Steve,” she added.

“I can get you a pardon. I know I can, just give me time. I would have done it already if I knew you were alive, which I didn’t. And then I wanted to come see you first, because…” Natasha searched for the right words. Because I miss you, she wanted to say. Because you mean more to me than you even realize. “Because I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten about you.”

“You know, I didn’t think that you’d forgotten about me. No, I thought that it must have been too dangerous for you to try and find me or that maybe you had turned yourself in out of some sense of nobility.” Sharon chuckled. “I waited for you, Natasha. For two years, I waited for you and you didn’t come. And then the Blip happened and I thought that either you were gone or you would try to find me at last, but you didn’t. Why didn’t you?”

Natasha looked down at her glass. “I am here now, aren’t I?”

“That’s not what I asked,” Sharon shot back.

Natasha opened her mouth to speak but then closed it again. She wanted to tell Sharon the truth, but she wasn’t sure if her friend was ready to hear it. She wasn’t even sure if she was ready to hear herself say it.

“Natasha, I really thought I meant something to you.”

“You do.” Natasha took a deep breath. “Sharon, you mean everything to me.” She studied Sharon’s face, gauging her reaction. Sharon made a choking sound, a strangled sob left her throat.

“Oh,” she whispered. “Natasha, I…I’m not who I used to be.”

“I know.” She did know. When Natasha found out that Sharon was the Power Broker, she was devastated. It had felt like a betrayal at first. But she understood now that it was who Sharon had to become to survive and Natasha couldn’t blame her for that.

“I know what you did. I know that you’re the Power Broker. I know everything and I don’t care.” She could only hope that Sharon would believe her. She took her friend’s hand in her own.

“If you know about everything then you know I can’t go back.”

“No one else has to know. I can get rid of all the evidence. I can-” She got cut off by Sharon, who leaned forward and kissed her. Eagerly, Natasha kissed her back. She kissed Sharon like it was the last thing she would ever do, like the world would end if she stopped. She pushed her lover back against the couch and her leg over Sharon’s lap, straddling her. Her hands were tangled in blonde locks, while Sharon’s were fervently opening the buttons on Natasha’s blouse. She kissed her way down Natasha’s neck, causing a soft moan to escape the Avenger’s lips.

“Don’t stop,” Natasha breathed. “Don’t let go of me.”

Sharon obeyed.

They held each other for what felt like hours, with passionate kisses and dirty whispers. Their clothes were scattered across the floor, along with the couch pillows. Natasha was resting her head on Sharon’s chest, arms wrapped around her waist.

“Come home with me,” she murmured softly against her lover’s skin. “I’ll make sure everything turns out okay. I promise.”

Sharon sighed. “I guess you leave me no choice, Romanoff. I have to take you up on your offer. I’ll go back. But not today. You get me my pardon and I’ll come home.”

Natasha laughed, holding back tears of joy. She had Sharon back and maybe, just maybe, that meant she could be happy again.

People I promised to tag: @paperbeliefs-carloabay @yourtaletotell

#natsharon #natsharon fic #natasha romanoff #sharon carter #natasha x sharon #natasha romanoff x sharon carter #my fic #might crosspost on Ao3 once I figure out how to tag this haha

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doctorstethoscope · 3 years

Text

The Right Chapter 27 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Hello my loves! Just a reminder that this chapter is posting from the queue as I am on vacation--- I will be checking in periodically but less active than usual and not updating the tag list! Hope y’all enjoy this one :)

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: food mention, hangover mention, discussion of parenting, canon-typical mentions of violence

wordcount: 2k

When you woke up the next morning, you’re somewhere between completely refreshed and wickedly hungover. You need a bacon egg and cheese on an everything bagel and a big cup of coffee stat if you are going to get anything at all done today. Aaron, of course, must have gotten up hours ago, and has long past left the bedroom by the time you rise at nearly 11. When you roll to get out of bed, you notice that he’s left you advil, water, and a sleeve of saltines just in case you were feeling nauseous. You smiled, sitting up gingerly to sip at the water and take the pills. Once you were sure your stomach was fine, you slid out of bed and found Jack and Aaron in the kitchen, cooking up bacon and frying eggs while The Beatles played in the background. The boys hadn’t noticed you yet, and you decided not to call attention to yourself-- taking the moment to commit this mental image to memory, of Jack on his father’s hip, Aaron rocking back and forth as he pushed scrambled eggs around a frying pan, smiling and giggling and not thinking about work or serial killers or the next time he’d be pulled away.

When the song fades out, Aaron looks up, seeing you leaning against the doorway to the hall.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. How are you feeling?” He asks, looking you up and down for signs of a hangover.

“I’m okay. I’ll be better after breakfast,” you tell him. “And a big hug from my favorite Hotchner!” You add, crossing the kitchen and taking Jack from his father, shooting Aaron a knowing glance that said “I’m pretty sure physical therapy didn’t clear you for that. Especially not after last night.”

“I cracked the eggs. There’s no shells in them, Mom.” Jack says, and the world stops. He doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s slipped up, but Aaron and you both freeze, whipping your heads to look at each other with equally bewildered glances.

“I’m sure you did a great job, buddy!” You tell Jack, after a moment that feels like hours, not wanting to ignore him but not quite sure how to address what had happened, and Aaron wasn’t being much help.

“Breakfast is ready,” Aaron says, handing you exactly what you needed-- a bacon and egg sandwich, along with a hashbrown, some fruit, and a big cup of coffee.

“You might be the perfect man.” You tell him gratefully, and he smirks at you as the three of you sit down at the table and eat.

You and Aaron make casual conversation for a little while before Jack poses a question. “Dad, can we take my kite out today?” Jack asks as he spears a sausage link on his fork.

“It’s not really windy enough to fly a kite today, buddy, but we can go for a bike ride or play some soccer if you want,” Aaron responds before taking a sip of coffee.

“And we’ll all go?” Jack asks, looking across the table at you.

“Of course,” you tell him. “We’ll all go to the park with you.”

“Okay. Can I be excused?” He asks, and Aaron nods.

“Go ahead, just make sure you wash your hands and your face. You’ve got syrup everywhere,” He chuckles, and Jack scoots out his chair and leaves the table.

As soon as Jack is out of eyesight, you speak up. “So, are we gonna talk about that, or what?” You say in a hushed tone, not wanting Jack to overhear.

“I didn’t tell him to do that,” Aaron says.

“Neither did I,” you assure him.

“Are you upset?” Aaron asks, a furrow in his brow that just about broke your heart. Silly, silly man.

“No, of course not. Not if you aren’t.” You assure him.

“I just… he can’t forget Haley. He’s all that is left of her.” Aaron says with a deep sigh, and your eyes well up in tears.

“No, Aaron, he hasn’t and he won’t. We won’t let him.” You say, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “And if you don’t want him to call me Mom, I understand.”

“That’s not it. It’s just… bringing a lot up for me, is all.” He says.

“That’s normal, honey. You should think about it for a while, maybe talk about it just with him. No matter what you decide, you’re not going to disappoint me or him. But it’s okay to need some time with this.” You say, standing up to wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing a kiss to the junction of his shoulder and his neck.

“Thank you, for understanding me and for respecting her.” he tells you, raising one hand to cover yours where they met over his heart, craning his neck to leave a kiss on your wrist.

“Baby, have you seen my phone?” You asked, realizing that you haven’t checked it all morning.

“It’s charging next to mine on the bedside table. You were having a little trouble with the charger when we got in last night,” he chuckles at the memory of your drunken antics from the night before.

You go into the other room to grab your phones, noticing that you have two missed calls from Penelope--- you only just missed her. You dial her back as you head back towards the kitchen to help Aaron clean up.

“Where are you right now?” Garcia asks you as soon as the line connects, and your face twists up in confusion as you put your plate in the dishwasher.

“I’m at Aaron’s place, where are you?” You ask, not understanding her line of questioning.

“Is Jack in the room with you?”

“Garcia, what’s going on?” You ask, starting to get nervous. Aaron turns to face you, sensing your anxiety and you place a hand on his forearm for support.

“Last night, when we were all at the bar, a girl was kidnapped, who based on the description, looks a hell of a lot like you. A neighbor saw the guy, and based on the he neighbor’s description--

“It looks like Josh,” you finished Garcia’s sentence, and you felt Aaron tense under your fingers. He puts his palm out, silently asking for your phone, and you pass it to him without even telling Garcia that you were putting him on.

You were scared, terrified even, but you knew that the best thing you could do right then was be a profiler. You left Aaron to settle the details, and went into his bedroom to find something work-appropriate to wear. By the time you came back out, Aaron was off the phone.

“I called the rest of the team in, they’re going to meet us at the office. We’re going to get this loser, and we’re going to get him today,” Aaron lets out, and you nod.

“I’ll take Jack over to Jess’s,” you say, turning back towards Jack’s room, and he stopped you.

“No. You stay with me. Jess is on her way,” Aaron says, and she knocks at the door at the next moment. “I just told her that we got called in,” he tells you as he answers the door.

“Morning, guys,” she says as she steps in, entirely too chipper for the terror that’s rolling through your stomach in waves. “Duty calls, right?” She smiles at you, and you use all the power you have to muster a smile back.

“Yeah, even at the worst times,” you’re impressed that you strung that many words together.

“Any idea when you’ll be back?” She asks, and you shake your head.

“We’ve really got to go,” Aaron says, coming back into the room with Jack, who gives you and his father both hugs before you have to leave. You squeeze him extra tight before Aaron ushers you out of the apartment and towards the car.

“I am not going to let anything happen to you.” Aaron tells you after a few moments of tense, silent driving.

“I know,” you say noncommittally, and it’s back to silence.

“You can’t go in the field.” You both say after a moment.

“Darling, you have to understand--”

“No, Aaron, it’s not even up for debate. You’re out because of your leg, and JJ is pregnant. The team needs me, and I can’t sit this one out because either one of us is emotional about it,” You argue, and Aaron heaves a sigh.

“I wish Elle were here. Josh wouldn’t even still be a problem.” Aaron grumbles out, and despite yourself, you burst out laughing. Aaron’s shocked at first by your reaction, but after a moment, he lets out a laugh, too.

“Aaron, that’s awful. You were upset with Elle for months, even after she left. You’re better than that.” You say, still smiling even though it really wasn’t funny at all.

“Yeah, well, when you hobbled out to my car with a black eye, I think I began to understand Elle a little bit better than I did at the time.” Aaron tells you.

You think of the girl Josh has taken now-- being punished only for the sin of resembling you. No doubt she had her own black eye to match yours, plus god only knows what else at this point, nearly twelve hours after being taken. You swallowed thickly. After a moment, you speak up again.

“You knew that this was going to happen, didn’t you?” You ask quietly-- it’s a genuine question, not an accusation, but it still breaks Aaron’s heart. “That’s why you weren’t excited or relieved like I was when he got arrested.”

“I knew it was a possibility,” he confirms. “I didn’t want to say anything to you, because there was no way to know-- and I didn’t want you to have to keep living in fear,” he explains.

“I’m gonna get this son of a bitch,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Aaron.

The team is already waiting for the two of you in the roundtable room while you arrive, although there’s really no need to brief, so you all launch into a profile while Garcia digs for more information.

“What do we know about the unsub?” Aaron asks the team.

“He’s a power-seeker. He uses physical force as a method of coercion.” Morgan says, and Reid scribbles his statement onto a whiteboard.

“He doesn’t react well when challenged--- his demeanor completely changed when he came here and Hotch went after him.” Emily adds.

“True, but he had no problem going toe-to-toe with Morgan.” JJ contradicts.

“Based on the message he left with the flowers, he’s displaying early indicators of stalking behavior. If that’s escalated far enough, it’s possible that Josh might really believe that the woman that he’s taken is Y/N.” Spencer says, and you nod. For her sake, you hoped not. He had a hell of a lot of pent up anger towards you, and you didn’t want this poor girl to take the brunt of it.

“What’s her name?” You asked, quietly, and with everyone talking over you, you almost think no one hears you, until Aaron leans in a little closer.

“What’s that, darling?” He asks.

“What’s her name?” You say again, and his brow furrows in confusion.

“Who’s name?”

“The girl who’s taking the beating with my name on it right now,” you spit out, and the rest of the team stops talking over you. “The least I can do is learn her name and go talk to her parents.” You say, packing your stuff up.

“Her name is Anna Reardon. We’ll send the address to your phone,” Emily tells you, and you turn on your heel and walk out.

tagging: @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee @zheezs14 @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner @ijustwannaread2k19 @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @rousethemouse

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #hotch x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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