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#been meaning to draw this one for a while
alfheimr · 2 days
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My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes
i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:
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this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.
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the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.
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this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.
i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.
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for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.
note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!
note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!
with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?
the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.
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so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.
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these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!
you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.
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this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.
let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.
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gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:
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some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.
for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.
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here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.
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i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?
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i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.
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yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.
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i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.
i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.
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the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.
typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!
this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.
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let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.
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just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?
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woso-dreamzzz · 17 hours
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Flag
Frida Maanum x Emma Lennartsson x Child!Reader
Summary: Frida gets a surprise
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There's something about the atmosphere at Borehamwood that Frida likes. Maybe it's the pitch or the changing room or something else. But, secretly, Frida thinks it's the fans.
They turn out in droves, filling the stands and lining up for hours to get in.
The fans are perfect and the signs are funny too.
Frida likes the flags the best though. It's not often that she sees a Norwegian flag in the stands. Plenty of English flags and Ireland flags too (Katie seems to have a never ending amount of fans from Ireland flying over just to see her play).
It's always a nice day to see a Norwegian flag in the crowd. They don't even have to be the big ones hanging over the railings or the ones that fans would give her to wear around her shoulders.
Any flag, big or small, was always welcome to see in the stands.
Frida thinks they make her play better. She sees it and she almost always scores a goal or assists someone else's.
Just like today.
She'd spotted it in the second half, a little handheld flag being waved over by the seated area. She thinks a kid is holding it but it's too far away to properly see.
But the ball was at her feet and then suddenly it was in the back of the net and, as Frida celebrated, she knew it was seeing her flag that got her through it all.
She sees the flag again when the match is over, waving back and forth.
She follows the flag to a little hand. The hand to an arm. The arm to an Arsenal shirt. The Arsenal shirt up to two chubby little cheeks and those chubby cheeks to a very familiar face.
Frida's moving again before anyone can stop her. Stina tries to talk to her but Frida doesn't wait. She's not meant to hop the barrier but she does.
She takes the steps two at a time before reaching the little girl with the flag, crushing her into a hug.
"Hi, Mama," You whisper against her.
"Hi, squishy," Frida says to you. She lifts her head up to rest her chin on your head, looking at Emma. "Hi."
"Hello," Emma chuckles," Good surprise?"
"The best surprise."
Frida releases you but you don't move, happy to curl into her body.
"Did you see my flag, Mama?" You ask," I bought it just for you!"
"I did see it, squish," Frida says. One arm wraps around you again while the other reaches out for Emma. "I scored that goal for you, you know."
You giggle. "Silly, Mama. You don't know we were here!"
"But I saw your flag," Frida insists," And that made me score my goal. Thank you, squish."
You smile at her, a big smile that has Frida raining kisses down on your face. "It was a good goal, Mama. Mummy was very happy."
Emma's face goes a little red at that but Frida doesn't care about teasing her right now, more than happy with you in one arm and Emma's hand in her own.
"I'm glad," Frida says, looking down at you again," I'm glad my girls are happy."
"I'm always happy to see you, Mama!"
She isn't quite sure why but Frida chokes a little, trying to force down her tears so you don't notice but you do.
"Mama," You say," You're crying."
"Happy tears, squish," She assures you," I am very happy that you and Mummy decided to surprise me."
"We woke up very early," You say to her," And then we got on a plane."
"It's been a long day," Emma agrees. She draws you away from Frida and you go willingly. "Go and get changed and we'll head home."
"Come with me," Frida blurts out.
"Home?" Emma asks in amusement," I assumed we were already doing that."
"No, I mean to the locker room. I don't think I can cope being separated now."
Emma bounces you on her knee. "Would you like that, squish? Going into the locker room with Mama?"
You nod, head bobbing up and down. "Yes, please."
Emma gets up and settles you on her hip so you're comfortable. She keeps her fingers threaded with Frida's as she's guided through the halls and into the locker room.
Most of the girls have already come in so Frida's one of the last and everyone stares when she leads you and Emma in.
You've met the Arsenal girls before but you're not too familiar with them because you live in Sweden with Mummy most of the time, going with her to practice at Linköping.
So, you get put in Mama's cubby as she changes. She makes silly faces at you while Mummy talks to a few people she knows.
Mama was wearing a red Arsenal shirt like yours. She always gets you a new one whenever the new kit launches so you can match.
You don't see Mama in person a lot because her life is in England but she always calls every night to read you your bedtime story. She does all the voice correctly and she always makes you laugh.
You like that you get to have your favourite stories read to you in person tonight.
"Ready to go, squish?" Mama asks.
"Yes, Mama. We going home now?"
Frida beams at you. "Yes, we're going home."
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janeyseymour · 3 days
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I Wouldn't Tell Anyone
based off of that tiktok trend: "i wouldn't tell anyone i won the lottery, but there'd be signs".
WC: ~2.75k
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Melissa Schemmenti has worked at Willard R. Abbott Elementary School for years. And in those years, the one constant in her life has been Barbara Howard. The two had started the same year, and while many things have changed, their friendship would never. No, Melissa had watched as Barbara married Gerald, witnessed the woman’s growing belly as she carried both of her daughters, had seen the ups and downs in the Howard family. And likewise, Barbara had been there to see the marriage to Joe, the divorce of Joe, the lean years… and everything in between. They’ve seen the way that teachers come and go, children grow up before their very eyes, and at this point they’ve taught children of students that they had in the starting years. Teaching practices have grown and changed- it’s really an ever-evolving world that they live in.
The second grade teacher had a solid wardrobe that she kept in rotation over the years- really just a few blazers, her signature leather jacket, the same shirt in various colors, a few pairs of slacks and jeans, and of course her heeled boots that she wore everyday without fail.
“Melissa,” Barbara had asked one day. “Perhaps you and I should hit the mall? I know some great places that have wonderful clearance sections.”
“Are you tellin’ me I need to change out my wardrobe?” the redhead teased as she threw her bag over her shoulder.
“You know that is not what I am saying, woman,” Barb rolled her eyes. “But I see the way that your shirts are starting to wear thin. I also need an outfit for the end of the year banquet that this damned superintendent is forcing me to go to.”
“When you’re part of a committee, you have to go to that kind of stuff,” the second grade teacher had smirked. “Why you think I ain’t a part of all that?”
Even after the two of them hit it off, going to the mall whenever they found themselves with enough money to spare to treat themselves to a shopping spree, Melissa’s outfits still mostly circulate without fail. 
Years pass, and then she meets you one night while she’s out at the bar. She walks in, and you’re captivated. You don’t know what draws you to her, but whatever it is is magical. Your eyes hardly leave her stunning figure as she dances. You know that by the end of the night, you have to at least attempt to make a move on her.
And you do when she decides to take a break from dancing to come over to the bar. Conveniently, the only opening is by where you’re sitting and nursing a margarita.
By some grace of God, she’s been watching you too- trying to figure out how to start a conversation with you over the loud music and people dancing all around you.
She saunters up to the spot that you’re at and smiles at you. Wow… her smile is radiant.
“How come a pretty girl like you ain’t out there dancing with someone?”
“Just came here after a hard day at work,” you shrug. “Wanted a marg, thought maybe the music and drinks would brighten my spirit.”
“Well, you got the marg,” she gestures to your half empty glass. “Why don’t I buy you another, and then we can listen to the music together?”
“I’m sure you have friends here that wouldn’t want me crashing.”
“I’m here alone,” the redhead reveals. “The name’s Melissa. And you are?”
“Y/N,” you tell her.
“Well, Y/N, why don’t you let me buy you a drink, and we can be alone… together.”
You end up getting her number as you part ways for the night, and simply text her when you get home that night, time and place.
She’s just walked into her own house when your text comes through. How does Renata’s Kitchen at 5:30 on Tuesday sound?
I have to wait tomorrow and Monday to see you?
I mean, I could grab a coffee tomorrow after church if you’d rather that, the redheaded beauty sends.
You send her the address of your favorite coffee place, which just so happens to be hers as well. You wonder if the two of you have ever run into each other and just not known it at the time.
The outing for coffee ends up being an entire day’s worth of just walking around the city together as you chat about life. You find out that she’s a second grade teacher at one of the local schools and that she has Sunday dinners with her family every week (that is actually the only reason she has to regretfully leave you that day) among many other things. She finds out that you work for one of the local law firms down the street from Abbott, ironically enough. How have the two of you never bumped into each other, or at least seen each other? You get to your place of work at the same time as she does, you’ve both gone down to the same Wawa at the same time for lunch because your lunch hours coincide, and she quite literally walks past your firm to get to happy hour specials with her coworkers.
Once she leaves you to head to her family dinner, she texts you to let you know that she would still love to do dinner with you on Tuesday. You excitedly reply that you would be absolutely delighted. 
The two of you have been going out for quite some time now, and it’s quite funny that you’ve both kept it on the down low. You’re a bit concerned that while courtrooms have progressed with society that if your relationship were to become public, it could get in the way of cases. And she, similarly is nervous that she could face backlash at the school she works for for being in a homosexual relationship. So, neither of you have said anything to your coworkers. And it’s all going swimmingly. While you had both just stumbled upon each other one night at the bar, not expecting to find each other, here you are two years later as a happy couple.
You land the case of a lifetime, one where you could make a decent profit off of your already relatively high paying salary. On top of that, you know that you’re about to be promoted after working with this firm for the last five years.
You end up winning the case, bringing in some good money, and then you’re moving up the ladder and finding yourself with more cash outflow than you know what to do with at the moment. It’s too much for you, living in a small apartment in the city by yourself with nothing else to worry about. So, when your girlfriend comes over to your apartment for dinner, you propose something.
“Mel?” you ask as she stands at your stovetop. She hums to let you know that she’s listening, but her eyes stay trained on the vegetables that she’s chopping right now. “How would you feel if we moved in together?”
The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board halts, and she turns to face you. “What?”
“We’ve been together for almost two years,” you tell her. “I just got that nice promotion, plus a huge payout from the settlement with DuBoise, so… I was thinking maybe we could move in together? Find a nice townhouse somewhere in the city and settle into our lives together?”
About a million emotions flicker through the redhead’s face before it settles on a smile. “I think that might be a good idea.”
So, after months of looking, you both say goodbye to your small apartments and are able to move into a beautiful townhouse in Queen Village. When Melissa files the paperwork to change her address for paychecks, Ava comes flying into the staff lounge with her eyes nearly bulging out of her head.
“Uh, ahem,” the principal coughs out and raises her brows, waving the paperwork in front of the second grade teacher during lunch.
“What?” your girlfriend grumbles as she grades a few papers and shoves a forkful of her salad into her mouth.
“Since when did you move?”
“A couple of weeks ago,” Melissa shrugs.
Barbara’s brows furrow. She wasn’t aware her friend was moving house. “Oh, Melissa. Could you not afford the place anymore?”
“Girl, she upgraded big time! Went from living in the slums to a three bedroom townhouse in Queen Village!”
“Queen Village?” the kindergarten teacher repeats.
Again, the redhead just shrugs.
“Melissa, how did you manage that? I know what you make, and there is no way you could afford to live somewhere like that!” Janine cuts in.
“Can it, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Let’s just say… I have my ways.”
Nobody is brave enough to ask the mob-like woman what the hell that could even mean.
“Well, when do we get to see the place?” Jacob tries to invite himself over.
Green eyes glare over at the man. “If I can help it, never.”
“Oh c’mon, Mel Mel,” Jacobs whines out. “I lived with you at one point! Why can’t we come see your new place?”
“At the time, I did not know it was you,” the redhead huffs. “And then you moved out on me.”
“Because I found 
The second grade teacher blows out a breath. “Maybe once I have it all furnished and put together.”
So, once the two of you have the place put together for the most part, the Abbott clan makes their way over while you’re out of town for a convention that you were forced to go to.
To say that the crew is beyond impressed is an understatement.
“Melissa, this is beautiful,” Barbara compliments.
“How? How?” is all Jacob and Janine can stutter out.
The redhead just smirks. “I know a guy.”
They leave not knowing that the guy that she knows is you- her girlfriend of almost two and a half years at this point. And because it’s you, and you have an unwavering love for Melissa, the house is impeccable and everything she could ever want it to. You take good care of her.
Since moving in together, Melissa’s meals have only become more extravagant. With both of your finances almost entirely combined at this point, you spoil her with the best foods and ingredients that you can get her at any moment. So when she comes into the staff room with way fancier dishes for her lunch, it raises a few eyebrows. The teachers have seen Melissa stretch a dollar like a big headed baby stretches a… the redhead smirks.
“I know a guy,” is all she offers up.
The eyebrows of her coworkers only creep further up her head when she comes in with leftovers from one of the nicest restaurants in the city- a place known nationally for the delicate dishes and absolutely delectable desserts.
She’s eating the extra slice of cheesecake the two of you had brought home when Janine leans over. “How’d you get that?”
“I know a guy.”
“You sure seem to know a lot of guys.”
They have no idea that there are not multiple people- you are almost singlehandedly responsible for the lavish lifestyle that your girlfriend suddenly leads. 
Somehow, Melissa is forced to go to one of the banquet dinners that the district is holding because she’s hit a milestone in her teaching, and they’re highlighting her. So, of course Barb offers to go with her to try to find something nice to wear to the dinner that she too will be attending.
“Oh, I think I actually have an outfit,” the redhead refutes the offer. “But thank you.”
“Girl, you never turn down an opportunity to go out shopping,” the kindergarten teacher raises a brow.
“I just… know a guy that already bought me an outfit.”
Melissa shows up to the event looking like a million bucks, and Barbara almost can’t believe it. The redhead’s hair is curled to perfection, the dress that she’s in has clearly been tailored to accentuate all of her curves and to be the proper length. The shoes that she’s wearing are not the black heeled boots Barbara is so used to seeing her work wife wear- no, instead she’s got on a pair of heels that have to be at least two hundred dollars if the kindergarten teacher had to guess. 
Of course, their picture gets snapped and is posted to the school website a few days later. 
At lunch, while Janine is eating and on her laptop, her eyes go wide. “Melissa!”
“What?”
“You looked beautiful the other night!”
“Thanks, kid.”
“How did you get all of that?”
“I know a guy.”
Jacob moves his chair so he too can get a look.
“Melissa, that is…” he thinks to himself quietly. “At least a six hundred dollar look! For a school event? Girl, where are you getting all of this stuff?!”
“I told youse, I know a guy.”
It’s a weekend when the Abbott crew decides to get together, and they all have plans to go to Barbara’s house for game night, but Gerald gets sick and they can no longer use the Howard residence.
“Well, I guess we should cancel,” Melissa sighs as they’re all leaving the school that day.
“What if we just came to your place?” the kindergarten teacher asks. “It’s the only other space big enough to accommodate us all.”
Begrudgingly, the second grade teacher agrees. As everyone is on their way over, she calls you.
“Hello?”
“Hey hun,” she says softly. “So… change in plans for tonight.”
“Oh? Do I get you all to myself tonight?”
“Not exactly…” the redhead trails off. “We’re moving game night to our house.”
“Oh,” you say softly, your face dropping as you thumb through papers in your office.
“Yeah,” she hums.
“I mean, I guess I can go out to dinner with my mom or something to pass the-”
“What if we just… came out? At least just to the crew,” your girlfriend suggests quietly.
You mull that option over for a few seconds. “Y-yeah. If you’re ready for that.”
“I am if you are.”
“I can pick up dinner,” you tell her. “I should be out of here by 5:30, and then I can head over to grab some food before coming home.”
“There’s…” she counts in her head. “eight of us.”
“Eight?”
“Somehow Mr. J wormed himself into this get together,” Melissa laughs softly. “Something about getting the band back together- whatever the hell that means. 
Once you’re free from work, you head over to one of the nicer restaurants in the city, and because you and Melissa have become frequent flyers there, they’re able to oblige your request for a few trays of food. You leave a generous tip before packing the food into your car and making your way back to your townhouse. 
Upon pulling in, you take a few deep breaths before gathering your briefcase and the food and making your way to the door.
When you push it open, all eyes are on you.
“Hey,” you sigh as you kick off your shoes and head for the kitchen table to put down all the food.
“Melissa, you didn’t tell us you have a roommate, never mind a hot one!” Ava grins.
The redhead just rolls her eyes before glaring. That glare is gone though once you make your way back into the living room and sit down next to your girlfriend.
“Hey babe,” you smile at her before kissing her cheek softly.
“Babe?” Barbara’s eyes go wide. “Melissa Ann, do you have a girlfriend?”
The redhead just smirks. “Oh, did I not mention that I am happily in a relationship and have been for two and a half years?”
“Wait a minute,” Mr. Johnson furrows his brows and looks you over. “Ain’t you one of those fancy lawyers that works at the firm down the street from Abbott?”
You nod. “Hi. I’m Y/N.” You cordially shake everybody’s hand with a kind smile.
“Wait,” Janine pieces it all together. “Is this why you moved and could afford this place? Why your meals have gotten a lot fancier, and how you could afford the clothes you wore to the dinner the other night?”
Melissa just nods. “I guess you could say… I won the lottery with this one.”
TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld
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gardengirl222 · 3 days
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Hi angel! thoughts on 80s!slasher!jj ?? I loveee ur work btw! sending hugs and kisses! 💗
ofccc!! this is fun lol - 80s!slasher!jj
₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, violence, jealous!jj, death, slight breeding kink, threats, obsessed!jj, dark!jj - ₊˚⊹
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you and jj would have never become friends if you both hadn't met while working together at the little fast-food diner inside the mall. he was usually working in the back, preparing the food, and you were usually on server duty. with your short white tennis skirt and the diner polo shirt uniform you could usually draw attention from guys who wanna take you out and possibly eat you, you were so sweet. but there were days when you and jj would both be on cashier duty, those were his and your favorite days, it was basically like hanging out all day side by side.
as the day dragged on it was getting closer to closing time, thank goodness you thought, already super exhausted. after a few minutes a group of preppy jerk jocks come in, one of the guys walking up to your register with a stupid smirk on his face, danny. "hey babygirl, can i get uh, the number 5 with a milkshake anduh- your number? " he tilts his head up, proud of his little pickup line. you shake your head with a small smile and silently scoff at his stupidity. jj who is currently helping another customer, listens in and watches the interaction by side eyeing you both every few seconds. jj's jaw ticks as he tries to let you handle it. 
"a number 5 will that be all?" you continue to try and be professional with a sweet smile. 
"uh no actually, how about- you let me take you to the prom," he smirks again.
"i'm actually out of town that day so-" you tilt your head and act uninterested. 
"oh cuhmon- it'll be fun, you know you want to. i even booked a hotel room for that night and we'll-" danny persists further until he's interrupted by jj who snaps his head toward us. 
"she said no man." jj warns, danny's mouth agape as he turns over to look at jj. 
"was i talking to you maybank? cuz uh- i don't think i was." danny snickers almost trying to size jj up. 
"i don't give a shit, she's clearly not interested." jj squints his eyes and nods to himself. 
"oh woah! you've got yourself a little protector huh? no way this guy is your boyfriend right?" the guy turns to you and then back to jj. "i mean look at you! she's a total betty and you...you and your deadbeat dad aren't even good enough to scrape the dirt off our shoes." the boy scoffs and the rest of his friends snicker on cue.
jj tongues his cheek and grins in faux amusement, the guy turns around to walk off like a winner when jj reaches his arm out and taps the guy's shoulder. "hey man you forgot your-" jj grabs one of the milkshakes ready on the counter and throws it in the asshole's face, 'ruining' danny's gelled hair and expensive polo shirt. the diner fills with gasps, 'ooohs' and snickers.
"milkshake." jj finishes his sentence, and laughes through his nose. you stand there eyes wide as danny wipes the melted pink milk off his eyelids. "quit fuckin' around and get outta here" jj shoos the guy away with the motion of his hand as the humiliated boy walks away shouting back loudly "you are so dead maybank!" 
"whata piece of shit." jj mumbles and slams his hand on the counter and turns to see the manager shaking his head, disappointed. jj goes into the kitchen leaving you there to process what just happened. 
as the restaurant was about to close, you and jj were the only ones left, since you would have been closing together that night. the manager did fire him but somehow managed to stick around without him seeing jj.
you decided to let him do this thing inside the kitchen while you did the final table wipe-downs and setting up everything for tomorrow morning, time after time playing in the background. you hear some concerning noises coming from the kitchen area, knowing only jj was in there makes you stop and wonder why all the banging?, when another loud scary sound can be heard throughout the diner. you run behind the counter and around the corner to see what was making that noise, your eyes land on danny, dead, laying flat on his back on the floor with his face all burnt, bubbling, and bloody. you let out a horrified scream and cover your mouth immediately afterward, stumbling backward a bit and feeling nauseous. 'how did danny even end up back here?' you thought.
you feel your back bump into something, and you let out another spooked yelp, you feel two strong hands spin you around and when you look up, you realize it's only jj. 
"jj, danny...he must have- the deep fryer-" you stutter, and he shushes you "i know, i know."
"we have to call the police! i-is he dead? oh god, i'm gonna be sick..." tears start to fall down your cheeks, terrified and confused by how jj isn't freaking out or doing anything about it. you squirm out of his grip and back away from him.
"jj? did you hurt danny? oh my god, did you burn his face off?" you ask with wide eyes, chest heaving. 
jj nods but he doesn't look remorseful. you start to burst out in tears, unsure of what to do, you look over at the door and back over at jj who gives you a look of warning. he's all sweaty and dirty, his white shirt stained with grease and blood. 
the jukebox continues to play music, where otherwise silence would fill the diner. you decide to make a run for the door, but he beats you to that. jj manages to stand in front of you, clenching his jaw and squinting his eyes. 
"i did that for you, i did it to protect you." he spits, looking down at you in disappointment. 
"you're scaring me jj" you whine.
"why? i think you're being ungrateful." he whispers, looking down at you.
"you murdered him! jj you'll get in so much trouble, they'll know you did it!"
"no, manager man thought i left already..and i'll get him outta here so" he shrugs.
you whine again, eyes moving towards where danny was lying on the ground. jj snaps his fingers in front of your face to get you to pay attention to him again. 
"what you want him? you liked that guy? huh?" he spits out frustratedly. you shake your head no, now too afraid to even speak "what so now im the bad guy? cause i got rid of him for YOU!" he shouts and you flinch, unsure of what to do now. 
"you know what, fine, i think i deserve a little thank you don't you think?" he clenches his jaw again and yanks at your top pulling you to the other side of the counter, overlooking danny's corpse. 
he bends you over and yanks your skirt down, you begin to cry when you realize what he's going to do. "no, jj no, i'm scared please" you sob too frozen in fear to move. 
"you should see what i did with the rest of the bodies" he laughs quietly and reaches his hand around your waist to meanly grab your poor cunt, then pulling them to the side. you look down at the bloody dead body again and shut your eyes tight, then you feel jj's fat tip teasing your hole, sliding in your stickiness. "no, you are supposed to be my friend jj! friends don't do this!" you mewl.
he wraps his arm around your neck, trapping you in a headlock when he starts to push in to keep you from thrashing around. "shush, s'fine see? s'fine drama queen." he grunts in your ear, starting to slowly thrust in and out. 
part of you wishes you had the strength to kick him off of you, but the other half is in heaven. "look at danny, you want him? wanna go to the prom with that? hmm?" he taunts, squeezing you tighter in the headlock with his beefy arms when you don't respond which makes you let out a whimpery moan. 
"no! no, i don't wanna keep looking at him! it's making me sick!" you cry.
"i know, i know...grossing you out kinda turns me on though," he grunts again and laughs. he spits in his hand and uses that to sloppily rub your clit. the feeling of his spit mixed with your wetness makes you whine.
he keeps on pounding your pussy, letting you out of the headlock, and pushing your tits to press against the countertop. he smiles at all the little 'uh-uh's' you let out with each thrust. 
"you feel better? yeah? you calm now?" he hums and brings his hand down to smack your ass causing you to squeal and push your ass out almost asking for more. 
"yeah, i know mama, nobody's ever gonna touch you again kay?" his voice soft, making you nod slowly and dazed. 
"say thank you and i'll let you cum." he pressures you, so close to spilling all over him. 
"mmnnm jay-"
"use your manners c'mon" he cuts you off and brings his hand down again to start to rub your clit faster.
"thank you jayjay, thank you-" your cunt pulsing around his dick as you cum hard.
"atta girl, atta girl" he praises, then pushes into you harder than before, filling you up, and pulling out. he tucks himself away and moves your panties back to cover your cunt and to keep his cum and yours pooled in them. he pats your covered pussy and lets out a satisfied hum. 
"go wait by the mall entrance n i'll take you home, jus' gonna get ridda this guy." he pats your ass and walks over to get rid of the bloody body.  ᥫ᭡
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matan4il · 1 day
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Passover is the Jewish festival of freedom.
Israel has 133 hostages, alive and dead, still held in captivity. I'm grateful for each one released, but as long as some of our people, Jews and non-Jews alike, are hostages, we all are. Also, yesterday alone, Israel saw no less than 6 terrorist attacks (attempted or thwarted) with zero casualties, and I'm grateful no one got hurt, but what kind of freedom do we have, when this is our daily reality, and it's not even recognized?
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At the end of every Passover Seder, for 2,000 years now, Jews have concluded the holiday feast with, "Le'shana ha'baa bi'Yerushalayim (לשנה הבאה בירושלים)," next year in Jerusalem.
(here's a Passover Hagaddah from Casablanca, in Morroco, with this phrase and a drawing of the Hebrew Temple in Jerusalem -)
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Passover is the festival of freedom, the story of a nation breaking its bonds of enslavement, it's a story of emancipation, and as such, it is a beacon of hope and a reminder that freedom is possible for all those who yearn for it. That's why slaves in the US south adopted this language, and expressed their hopes for freedom through the story of the Jewish exodus from Egypt.
But the story doesn't end as soon as the Israelites have left Egypt, it doesn't end in the desert. Achieving freedom is a process. That ancient story demonstrates that, but we have other, more recent examples. Jews liberated from the Nazi camps were still re-living the horrors of the Holocaust every night, if not more often than that. The hostages who have been released from their captivity at the hands of murderous, rapist Hamas terrorists are still working to recover. Freedom is a process. And in the story of the exodus from Egypt, which Jews have been re-telling annually for thousands of years, guiding our thoughts and understanding of what our freedom is, the story doesn't end when our ancestors left Egypt. The final note of the story defines our freedom as only being fully achieved after going through the journey in the desert, the process, when we are once more living freely in our ancestral, promised land, when we return to our holy city. And no matter where we live, we express this idea in Hebrew, our native, ancestral language.
(here's another Passover Hagaddah, this one from 1940's Cairo, in Egypt of all places, with this same phrase -)
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Poet Amnon Ribak (whose career was originally in hi-tech before he started delving into what his Judaism means to him) once wrote, "Every man needs some sort of an Egypt, to deliver himself from its house of slaves, to leave in the middle of the night into a desert of fears, to walk straight into the waters and see it parting in front of him." He takes the Jewish exodus and turns it into a metaphor for personal challenge and growth. And how does he finish this poem? (my emphasis) "Everyone needs an Egypt, and a Jerusalem, and one long journey to remember forever through the feet."
Here's the poem composed as a song (composing poems is an Israeli tradition. And while we're at it, this is a reminder that the biggest center of original Jewish culture and art in the world today is Israel):
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This Passover, we will be remembering and re-telling the story of our ancestors' exit from Egypt, we will collectively yearn for Jerusalem again, we will do our best to learn from this ancient story as if each of us has been personally delivered from Egypt, we will cherish the freedoms that we have, and keep in mind the ones we still have to fight for, first and foremost the literal freedom of our hostages. Please, if you celebrate Passover, consider leaving an empty chair at your Seder table for all the people who are not yet free.
And may we all have a happy and meaningful Pesach! <3
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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blusocket · 21 hours
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I've seen some people express some confusion about what Fortnight is about, why it opens the album, what's happening in the video, etc, so here's my attempt at an analysis. For the most part I'll be referring to the characters in the video with the names of the people playing them (Taylor and Post) but at times I'm going to be making direct reference to the events of Taylor's personal life and referring to the muses by their names (Joe and Matty) for the sake of clarity and simplicity.
The song itself uses the suburbia conceit as an extended metaphor for the beginning of her relationship with Matty (he's the neighbor she runs away to Florida with, Joe is the cheating husband.) For more eloquent and detailed thoughts on the narrative of the song you can check out Jaime @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes's post here.
The video is really dense, and I'm not 100% confident in every aspect of my interpretation, but I feel pretty sure that it's making extensive use of visual metaphor in order to tell roughly the same story as the song, just in a different setting. To start, Taylor wakes up chained to a bed in a white dress.
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To me this suggests that she's been driven mad by being left at the altar, and is now trapped, surveilled and controlled, in a type of asylum. This represents the end of her relationship with Joe--waiting for a marriage that never came, feeling trapped, mentally unwell etc.
She then takes 'forget him' pills which reveal Post's tattoos on her face when she looks in the mirror.
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This represents Matty (the "miracle move-on drug") and shows that he made a mark on her while she was still in the asylum--that is, still in her relationship with Joe. Additionally, in the wide shot where we see the mirror, its size and shape are very reminiscent of a one-way mirror, often seen in interrogation rooms and psychological experiments, further reinforcing the idea that Taylor is imprisoned here.
She then is able to go to the typewriter room and do her work, creating art about how she's feeling, shown by her repeatedly typing "I love you, it's ruining my life" on the typewriter. She's still in pain and feeling trapped. While there, she encounters Post and they create art together, which creates beauty and color in her life. The blue and gold obviously reference her writing about Joe, but the fact that her work is gold and Post's is blue may be a deliberate choice to draw parallels between Matty and Joe, as she does on numerous songs throughout TTPD.
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The next scene, where Taylor's hair is down and she and Post are wearing the same black coat and pants, takes place inside her head (symbolized by the shape of the papers they're laying on.) She is dreaming about them being free and creating art together, represented by the papers surrounding them and book she's holding, which has the word "us" written on the cover. She's writing their story before it's begun.
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She then reaches for his hand in her fantasy, accepting and asking for this relationship
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Then we see that she's being studied and experimented on--the results of the lie detector test read "I love you, it's ruining my life." Her pain is an object of fascination.
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Interestingly, Post is part of the group experimenting on her, but when the experiments begin to cause her pain, he liberates her.
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This inspires Taylor to destroy the place where she's been trapped, which we see through her opening the filing cabinets that cover the walls and destroying the mirror. I also find the shot of her standing still while papers burn around her interesting and significant; I interpret this as Taylor destroying her own work about Joe. By choosing to leave, she is metaphorically burning--rejecting--the story she wrote about them.
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Finally, Taylor and Post enter the dangerous outside world together; the rain echoes the lyric "I chose this cyclone with you" on the album's title track. While I do feel the meaning of Post being in the phone booth is somewhat ambiguous, the framing and the accompanying lyric--"I've been calling ya but you won't pick up" suggest that he's attempting to communicate with her but can't reach her. They are free of her prison, but still separated.
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Then, he hangs up the phone and reaches for her hand, and she takes it. The final shot of the video is a close up on their linked hands, presenting us with a cautiously optimistic ending--they are lost and vulnerable in the middle of a storm, but they have each other.
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I feel this is a somewhat less sinister, for lack of a better word, portrayal of the start of Matty and Taylor's relationship than is suggested elsewhere on the record, though I believe Post's character being part of the group experimenting on her is significant and the editing creates some ambiguity about exactly when and why she decides to break free. But I hope this clarifies how the video sets up the beginning of this story, the fallout of which is then chronicled over the course of the rest of TTPD.
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kaeyachi · 2 days
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some kaeya facts that i want to remind everyone with because I miss him so much! (no angst this time i swear!!...but if you all want angst, I could also deliver hehehe)
1. Kaeya tells the children of Mondstadt some stories! Specifically, one that some forgot or didn't know of is that he has told the orphans under the church's care some horror story about the light in the lamp posts :D He had been shown to do a story telling to Klee while at the Veluriyam Mirage and he has also been reading to Klee her bedtime stories as well
2. Kaeya made Klee's survival rules! Kaeya has definitely done his part on preventing Klee from destroying Mondstadt before Celestia ever could (well, at least lessened the amount of times Mond gets bombed anyway). Anyone else think Kaeya purposely let Klee explode the Good Hunter's stove to avoid going to the Chasm? No? Ok-
3. He takes the attention when he dances! Depending on which language you hear it from, it is either a good or a bad thing. However, I am on team good thing simply because some mercenaries invited him to go dancing with them while he was in Sumeru ( very interesting information, Kaeya! Glad to know they found you so attractive that they did something they don't usually do!)
4. If you call him kind, he will attempt to look mean (and he fails at it lmao), and if he is not being mean, he will try to deny it. The traveler once listed down the kind things he had done for Captain Wu, a Liyue npc, and Kaeya proceeds to tell us that he records people who owe him (which is a lie. He forgot the person he helped TWICE. What he does have a record of is a well-detailed list of Treasure Hoarders and their rankings + patrol areas in Mondstadt). Another instance was during Jean's story quest where Kaeya planned the appreciation party for Jean where he gave the traveler all the credit
5. He is a great gift giver! (unless that person is Diluc because otherwise he will find the ugliest thing ever and gift that... arguably, that kinda sounds like amazing gift giving if we are talking about being an annoying sibling). He remembers passing commentary from friends and coworkers and gifts them accordingly.
6. He has his own intel network (and I'm theorizing that it is just a group of people he has helped before that insisted on paying him back in this way). Kaeya, after some heavy insistence from Captain Wu, asks him if he wants to be a friend or be part of his intel network and follow his commands no matter what. Vile, one of his known informants, also gave us a glimpse as to what it takes to be part of Kaeya's network, and that is the ability to decipher codes and read messages in between.
7. He is incredibly reliable as a knight! Not only do the people of Mondstadt agree that he is the more approachable cavalry captain between him and Diluc, but it is also a known fact that Kaeya has never failed to complete a mission to date (except the one during Diluc's 18th). Nearly every citizen of Mondstadt adores him and knows how reliable he is. Arguably, this success rate could be attributed to his "end justifies the means" mindset that not all find enjoyable, but he is definitely the person to ask if you want something done. Vile has once mentioned that she could just ask Kaeya to do the charming and convincing for her, dubbing him as a prince charming for it.
8. He is one of the people who spends so much time with Klee (potentially attributed by the fact that he also has more free time compared to others). He spends so much time with her that Klee mentions a few interesting things about Kaeya, such as the fact that Albedo draws Kaeya frequently (enough times that Albedo says Kaeya could be drawn by him easily. yes, it's that "three strokes" line lmao) and the fact that Kaeya has saved Klee from solitary confinement a lot. He is shown to be a very effective person when it comes to corralling Klee without making her feel bad as even when he was trying to berate her, he still ended up giving her a possible reward if she listens.
9. He is very meticulous. He willingly spends the time to get himself ready in the clothes that he is wearing, and he likes embellishments. He really is quite the perfectionist in his actions as well. (very Alberich of him!✌️) We can also see this in his handwriting that has been described as "beautiful" and again with his near perfect track record as a knight.
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lucabyte · 2 days
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obligatory ramble about postcanon loop ask
also your art is amazing
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Hiiiiiiiii :D thank you :)!!
and thank you for the excuse to post the. just absolute wall of text that i truncated down to form the tags of that post. (i did,,, hit the tag limit. i forgot tumblr had one of those...) so let me just paste that and tidy it up a bit...
I am putting this under a readmore because it's a bit long. but:
This is like. The General Context for all* of my postcanon doodles? (Except AUs obviously) Like this is the base idea I've been drawing them all in. So, feel free to backread with this in mind. I've basically had this 'postcanon' timeline set in my brain since finishing the game...
My general thoughts are that I like the idea of Loop (even if through dubiously ethical means) being able to slowly reintegrate with the party as a whole new person, because they are, in fact, their own person.
It's a muddle of thematic threads im pulling on and "wouldn't it be fucked up if", but. (at its core, it's powered by the fact that like, while narratively isat's theme of 'the only person who can truly take the first step to help you is yourself'. (wrt: loop helping the party help siffrin in act 5) which i LOVE AND IS GREAT NARRATIVELY…. would be super fucked up irl to learn that your friend 'learned as a lesson' while you stood by kinda uselessly. I know i'd be upset about it. but thats mostly background here. doesn't really come up. at least not until loop has to explain who they are and the party realises they had to fall back on literally themselves again for help, but i digress,)
The real core concept is: Occam's razor. It is like, inherently, a buckwild thing to accuse a person of being somehow a clone or copy of your friend. Even if they start vaguely alluding to a backstory it's far more likely they were some other person before all that. (I still think Odile has that theory in the back pocket but she's rational enough to know it's a really long shot without a solid explanation. and i think Loop deep down knows this, and would, if cornered into confessing, turn the situation around to go J'ACCUSE and make HER explain it instead. Ever longer dodging being direct with their emotions...)
And the party are nice! And if someone has changed and wants to keep stuff secret it's kind of not their business? (Though it's hard not to speculate… see: the main joke of the doodles) And they seem important to Siffrin so they just try to accept them abrasive quirks and all. And eventually the question of their prior identity just fades away since, well, they're Loop. Their friend Loop.
but yeah. personal headcanon is that a few months/weeks after picking up and getting aquainted with Nille** (since that was presumably the IMMEDIATE TASK postgame), Loop reappears (either after a literal period of nonexistance, or just spending a few months wandering the french countryside alone being attacked by wild dogs). Since Siffrin has had a while to be therapised by the party they're doing mostly okay, but Loop showing up and still being agitated/aggressive pulls them both into a bit of a backslide behaviourally and puts the party on the back foot again.
Hooowever, I do think that due to no longer being literally stewing in the worst pressure cooker of all time together, the two do mostly actually sort themselves out with productive conversation. (Via a cycle of: genuinely distressing argument -> weeeird lovebombing -> ok we're good -> repeat, that gets less intense over time)
Thus, allowing the party to just. Integrate loop as a new person. They and Siffrin shuffle into different ecological niches (Loop taking over stuff Siffrin is now too squeamish for, etc (see: hunting, mostly)), and while it's not exactly what Loop wanted they generally get that beggars can't be choosers and it's a pretty good deal. And the rest of the party does straight up just like them as a friend, especially when Loop quits trying to actively antagonise them after a few weeks of being around them, since they just can't keep up being mean to people they like forever.
As for how I think the truth eventually drags itself out. This is where I invoke The Isabeau Torment Nexus™. So its gonna get shippy here for a bit hold on.
Which is, I think giving them time before Loop reappears long enough that Siffrin and Iseabeau actually manage to become established, Isabeau has to be the one to nudge the pair of them and go. "Hey. You know we're in Vaugarde right. I'm okay with polyamory if we all communicate." Before Loop and Siffrin actually even acknowledge that whatever the fuck they have going on kinda looks a lot like a relationship of some kind. (or have already been agonising about that via fighting and arguing, depending) (Obviously this comes after Isa "Emotionally intelligent enough to keep a lid on the jealousy" Beau has managed to use that big brain of his to Not just go Scream somewhere on the daily because oh godddd they keep talking like theyre suicide-baiting each other jesus chriiist. is it overstepping his boundaries to bring that up?? god)
This, taking a bunch of the tension out of Loop and Isabeau's relationship (Since I imagine Loop is a. being weird for the obvious reasons and b. feeling kinda guilty about 'getting in the way of' Siffrin and Iseabeau), allows them to actually get close in a normal friend way. (I think an interesting turning point could be Isabeau actually taking Loop's side in an argument vs Siffrin, which would absolutely break Loop's brain. Especially if it's an argument that matters. Like what do you mean he isn't just going to play favourites. What?)
Then Isabeau, just actually open minded and charmed by Loop (and maybe even somewhat at Siffrin's suggestion?) tries to close the final open side on the polyamory triangle here and that's the final straw for Loop on "This lie by omission is too unethical to keep up, this is just actually sick and wrong. I can't do this while he doesn't know who I am." Though. Obviously it probably goes. Very poorly with emotions high like that. And the added element of several months of deceit. Getting dark here for a second but that dagger is going MISSING and so are THEY for a hot minute.
Then yaaay everything works out in the end 👍 yippieee!! all it took was maybe a lot of harrowed recontextualisation of all the weird shit your new friend said and did when it turns out they're your old friend. It's fine.
But yeah. this is basically the context all of my postcanon doodles have existed within? And those exist to give other people something to chew on. So this does too.
I suppose TL;DR: Imagine if sloopis almost fucking happens before isabeau knows who loop is. can you fucking imagine. can you imagine having to navigate that. nightmare.
*Yes this includes the implied cannibalism comic. Uhh. Comes part and parcel with headcanoning that Loop went way off the deep end similar to A5 Sif But Maybe Worse before giving in. Add weepy half-asleep confessions to murder wherever you see fit in your mind palace. 👍👍👍
**Re: Nille footnote. I don't have anywhere to put this besides here! I have some thoughts on Loop and Nille having an odd dynamic. I don't imagine Nille to be super gung-ho on trusting a bunch of adults (even if they are majority around her age) given their implied backstory. It's probably a big shock to the system, especially since Bambouche is a good couple hundred Kilometers up north from Dormont and these guys don't seem to have trains. She would've been unfrozen and without Bonnie for some time....
Which is to say: I think she's suspicious of them. I think she may be looking for excuses to distance herself, keep Bonnie safe. SO.... A new guy showing up? And antagonising the party? What do they know that I don't...? I should find out.
And since... Loop didn't ever know Nille, they have no ammunition or real reason to be cruel. Plus, if they're trying to stay on Bonnie's good side (SINCE... if Bonnie thought Loop was cringe they may as well kill themselves. In their mind.) they SUPER have no reason to antagonise Nille.
Mostly, they might be able to open up to each other easier than they can the rest of the party?
I feel like this resolves with Loop feeling compelled to apologise for what they and Siffrin let happen to Bonnie, though... Hmm... Depends on how you interpret Nille that they'd be glad nobody else had been told about that yet, or furious it had been secret this long. I lean toward the former.
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royaltozaki · 3 days
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tattoos and bad behaviour
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synopsis: momo has been hiding her new tattoo from you and she’s finally back for you to see it.
warnings: strap-ons, vibrators, sexting, degradation, slight public sex, y/n is tied up and gagged, edging, they’re switches your honour! (but also dom!momo)
w/c: 5.7k
a/n: first this first that first smut :P been obsessed w lower stomach tattoos lately theyre so fucking hot its like my version of a happy trail on a woman 🤤
。・:*˚:✧。
your girlfriend momo was keeping her new tattoo a secret from you. she got it while she was overseas and everytime you asked her for a picture or for her to show you while you were video-calling, she refused and you were left imagining.
not today though. she was finally coming back from her month long work trip and you were determined to see the new piece of art etched onto your lover’s skin.
unfortunately you weren't able to greet her at the airport because she had a work meeting right upon arrival so you had to resort to waiting for nightfall, before all your mutual friends would head to the club for a reunion.
you slip on a short red dress that highlighted your ass and left little to imagination. you were midway through drawing your eyeliner when she texted,
m ♡ : baby what r u wearing tn?
y/n : why do u wanna know 😠
m ♡ : ur not still mad at me r u? :(
y/n : what do u think.
m ♡ : can u stop answering my questions with questions pls, i’ll show u tn baby ��
you scoff.
y/n : yeah along with everyone else. whys it so secret anyway? yk i love you no matter what if thats what ur afraid of
m ♡ : its not that baby ik u do and ily too 🩷 you’ll understand when u see it why i couldn’t show u
y/n : wtf is that supposed to mean 😠 wtv, u can see what im wearing when u see me later tn
you put your phone down in faux annoyance, letting her messages come through but not bothering to read them while you continue applying your makeup. you weren’t actually annoyed with her, maybe a little hurt that whatever she’s hiding her other friends had already seen on her business trip, and if it really was something she was ashamed of or regretted getting, which was totally understandable you’ve had your fair share of bad drunk decisions, you thought she knew you enough to trust you with these things.
ugh whatever. you weren’t trying to soil your night with something so small. you were also excited to see momo again after a whole month of being apart, so ready for her to pick you up and slam you against a wall with her lips against your neck whispering how much she missed you during her trip. god okay maybe you were a little horny too but who wouldn’t be after being completely untouched by their partner for a whole month. you rub your thighs together.
maybe you could put on an extra little something for momo. only to get back at her a little. show her you could play this game too. tease something she could only know, but not be able to do anything about.
you hum as you go towards your closet, searching for what you were looking for.
you smirked slightly as your fingers grasped the small bullet vibrator, grabbing its corresponding remote. you head back towards the bed, spreading your legs, finding yourself plenty wet already with thoughts about how hot momo would look desperate and thrusting fingers into you at an unbelievable pace.
you bite your lip at the thought, tracing the small vibrator along your outer lips, coating it in your essence, letting it catch at your clit and moving it back down towards your entrance before repeating.
you quickly grab your phone and snap a picture of the vibrator covered in your slick, sending it to your girlfriend.
y/n : sent a picture.
y/n : what im wearing tn
m ♡ : what the fuck y/n. im at work
y/n : you asked me what i was gonna wear 🤷‍♀️
you grin while waiting for her reply, knowing she was probably flustered with that adorable flush across her cheeks. you slip the vibrator inside yourself, clenching around it wishing so badly it was momo’s fingers or strap inside you instead.
m ♡ : you fucking knew what i meant y/n. you better not be touching urself rn. ur mine to ruin tonight.
you whimper slightly as you start tracing circles over your clit with the vibrator still off inside you.
y/n : so what if i am? u can’t do anything about it
m ♡ : you fucking brat u don’t wanna play this game with me rn.
y/n : oh but sweetie you started it. im just playing my move. maybe u shoulda given me what i wanted when i asked politely. now ur gonna have to spend the entire night knowing there’s a vibe going off inside of me while we’re with all of our friends.
you snap another picture, spreading your lips open with your fingers to show the vibrator inside you.
y/n : sent a picture.
you don’t bother waiting for her reply, hoisting yourself up and getting ready to go. you thought it’d be best not to get yourself off just yet, leave yourself nice and wet for her for when she’d eventually tear your clothes off.
。・:*˚:✧。
bass pounding, sweaty bodies grinding against each other, and flashing lights. all that was missing was momo. all your friends had arrived already, momo’s coworker saying she was kept behind a little late and would be here as soon as she could.
as much as you wanted to tease her you were also worried that she was taking so long. you were about to grab your phone and call her when she finally walks in.
and holy fuck.
hips swaying in low rise jeans that hugged her legs in the most delectable way. tits hidden in a hardly modest top that covered her belly button in a v shape and left her ab lines out in proud display. but most importantly… the fresh tattoo that adorned her lower stomach. if tramp stamps were hot this… this was a whole other level.
suddenly the vibrator in you that was at the lowest setting felt like nothing. you needed her pounding into you right fucking now.
she spots you and smirks, knowing exactly what you were thinking. god you missed her, your drenched state was proof of that enough.
she stalks towards you, your eyes never leaving those dangerous hips as they sway from side to side with each step.
you play it cool, leaning back against the bar, but feeling yourself clench at the sight.
“hey baby.” her voice is deep and raspy, fuck you’ve missed it. she closes in on you, placing her arms on both sides of you on the bar, trapping you in.
your fingers can’t help but grab her hips desperately, gripping hard. “so this is what you’ve been hiding from me.”
she leans in closer, speaking with that sexy husk of hers into your ear, “i knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me if i’d shown it to you earlier. you’d probably book a flight just to see me knowing how impulsive you are.” she tuts, “bet you wanna get down on your knees right now and get me off with your tongue. trace the tatt and make it yours. you don’t care that all our friends and the entire club would see. you’d like it actually, wouldn’t you? little slut, want the entire world to know how good you are with that mouth huh?”
you’re not given a second to respond as she pushes a thigh between your legs unceremoniously and you gasp at the sudden friction, whimpering into her ear.
“that good huh? how long have you been fucking yourself here for anyone to see? how many times have you cum?”
you can barely get out, “n-none, fuck momo i need you please- ” your eyes close, burying your head into her neck, humping against her thigh to give yourself any friction at all.
“so you’re a brat and a liar now huh? think you can get yourself off on my thigh right now?” she rips away from you suddenly leaving you gasping for breath, hands trailing after her hips, “gotta meet the rest of the gang baby.” she’s sporting a devilish look on her face as she grabs your hand and pulls you along, “this is a reunion after all.”
。・:*˚:✧。
momo is positively evil. she’s spent the entire night showing off her new tattoo, her outfit alone highlighted exactly what she wanted, and anyone who looked at her would follow the lines of her clothes and body down to where only you were supposed to have access to.
she also makes a point of teasing you to no end. grabbing your ass, pulling you down into her lap when you’re all seated and grinding you down into her thigh. you almost came then and there but she pushes you off of her at the last moment.
you’ve had enough.
you’re seated on opposite ends of the the booth now since she was catching up with some of her friends that you only really knew by name.
you make sure to catch her eye when you turn the vibrator in you all the way up. your legs clench and you have to shuffle in your seat as discreetly as you can.
she raises an eyebrow, eyes narrowing.
it doesn’t take much because you’ve been built up for so long and her gaze on you as you grab the table, knuckles turning white, combined with the risk of literally cumming in a public space next to all your friends gets to you.
pleasure washes over you, if only briefly as you cum, eyes closing and mouth opening slightly.
“hey y/n, you okay?”
your eyes snap back open as you turn to your friend, “y-yeah, just a little antsy i g-guess.”
momo’s jaw is clenched so hard you’re afraid she’ll break her teeth.
“oh! we should all get up and dance then! it’d be good to finally join in anyway.” another friend perks up and now everyone’s making their way to the dance floor, your post-orgasmic blissed self following them before your pulled back by a strong grip.
“what the fuck was that?”
you feel yourself dripping again.
you ignore her, pulling her along onto the dance floor, desperate to be closer to her.
“did you just fucking cum?” she’s relentless, pulling you into her hard, arm wrapped possessively around your waist.
you hum along to the music, grinding into her, “no.”
“fucking liar. i know what you look like when you cum. and now so does everyone else in this fucking club.” she’s snarling, hand moving down to grope your ass roughly, “that face is mine. this ass is mine. no one else should be able to see or touch what’s mine. and you’re gonna regret giving them that.”
you smirk, “make me.”
“one month away and you’ve forgotten your place. i’m gonna have to fix this new attitude of yours.” she’s slipping her hand into the hidden pouch of your dress, stealing the vibrator remote away from you.
“‘s your fault. you didn’t prepare me for this.” you run your fingers across her stomach, “if you had, maybe i wouldn’t be so needy. you should just take me home and fuck me right now.”
she growls, “oh no. you’re getting fucked like the slut you are. right here in front of everyone.” she flicks the vibrator up a notch, your hands grip her shoulders but she pulls away quickly.
hoisting herself up onto a small platform nearby, she grabs the pole in the center of it, and starts to dance.
her hooded eyes are on you the entire time as she drops to the floor, turning and bringing herself back up, full ass on display and you think you drool a little but you're not sure because she's somehow cranked the vibrator up again. whoops and cheers as she climbs the pole, spinning with sexy elegance showing off her core strength, abs flexing, breasts pushed together. she comes back in and grinds her front against the pole.
then, and you don’t even know how it happens because you’re so focused on not cumming, she’s suddenly upside down, legs clinging to the pole, cheeky smirk right in front of you as she yanks you in by the neck and kisses you for the first time that night.
you moan against her immediately, she's sucking your bottom lip into your mouth and bites, and you’re helpless against her as she ravages you. you can barely keep up, not even kissing her back just panting into her mouth with hot breaths as she licks into you, invading all of your senses, you're so close to cumming.
you're incoherent as you moan into her, she turns the vibrator all the way up, smirking against you as she feels your mouth go slack and you cum.
but just as sudden as it came, she switches off the vibrator, is off the pole immediately, tugging you through the crowd, yelling something at your friends that you can't make out, and hailing down a cab.
you're barely conscious and mourning the loss of an incredible orgasm. she let you come, but stripped it away from you just as quickly, it could barely classify as an orgasm.
her hand is on your thigh the entire ride back to your place, she's gripping you and inching her hand up your dress. the vibrator turns on again and you jolt, stifling a moan as the cab driver looks at you in the mirror in mild concern.
you grab her arm pausing her ministrations, whispering desperately, "f-fuck mo- c-can't, 's too much-"
she chuckles darkly, "you're the one who begged me to take you home and fuck you. you're gonna take what you get now."
the short drive feels excruciatingly long as her nails rake the inside of your thighs. finally you're home and you're pulling her out of the car and up the stairs to your apartment, fumbling with your keys as she moulds herself to your back, kissing your neck and nipping at your ear.
the door opens and you almost fall in but she catches you and slams you against the door again, closing it as she immediately latches on to your lips.
"fuck baby- god- do you know what you- fucking do to me?" she's mumbling between kisses as you wrap your legs around her waist, her hands immediately going to grip your ass as she pushes you into the door further, hips grinding against your core.
you're a mess, you need her inside of you now. "b-bedroom."
she doesn't take any convincing and lifts you up. your panties are absolutely soiled by now and she could probably feel it against her bare stomach as you grind along her abs.
she throws you onto the bed and crawls on top of you, lips attacking every exposed sliver of skin available to her. you moan as she hikes your dress up, knee pressing into your center.
hazily, you remember what got you this worked up in the first place. and with a glance down, you're overcome with a need.
surprising her with your strength, you're flipping her over and working at the zipper of her jeans, "need to eat you out now. please."
she moans, "fuck baby alright. you're gonna look so fucking hot between my legs, the new tatt crowning your head."
you’re kissing down her body after successfully undoing her jeans and sliding them down her legs. a free hand moves up to grope roughly at a breast and she arches into your touch. you stop once you reach her belly button, pulling yourself up a little to admire her new art.
she's staring at you with lust and rubbing her thighs together at the way you're devouring her with your eyes.
your fingers come down and lightly trace the sharp lines and shapes as she jolts up. you follow the lines on the left side of her lower stomach, tracing down to right above her pussy. you were obsessed. the twin patterns lead directly to her center, bringing your attention to the pathetic excuse for underwear still covering momo's pussy.
you lean down, licking along the tattoo, and her hands are in your hair immediately, tugging and pulling, trying to get you to where she needed you most. but you resisted, licking over every sliver of inked skin, biting down and marking her on the sensitive spot just above her hipbone.
"still can't believe you hid this from me for a whole fucking month."
she bucks up into you, "you woulda put everything down just to see me. and i couldn't have you doing what you're doing right now a month ago when it was still fresh. gotta protect the skin y'know."
you scoff, "coulda at least sent a picture or showed me on video call when i asked." you bite down again and suck, leaving a dark purple mark next to one particular stroke of ink.
"f-fuck baby. first of all- ah- tattoos aren't pretty when they're healing. they're all flaky and red and really gross. second, oh shit- i told you -mmf- i wasn't gonna tempt you to come to me, you have a life and a job but you don't care about any of that when it comes to me."
you get her panties between your teeth, and slowly pull them down her legs, admiring the way slick clings between the material and her exposed pussy. you fling them to the side once they're off. "yeah cos i love you idiot."
"and i love you too but you were not about to fly halfway across the world just to fuck me."
you hmph in annoyance, "guess i'll have to make up for it now then since you've kept this from me for so long." and before she gets a chance to reply you're diving in, licking long straight lines up from her entrance to her clit.
her hands fly to your hair again, keeping you there, gripping your head, thighs closing around your ears. you can still hear her moans as you suck her clit into your mouth and tongue it from side to side, releasing it with a pop and moving down to collect the gush that comes out of her.
oh how you've missed this taste. the heady scent of hers driving you insane as you take inhales through your nose while your mouth is at work.
you look up at her, back arched and head flung back onto the pillow, chest heaving as she crumbles around you. with the new tattoo crowning her pussy, you've never seen anything hotter in your life.
"please y/n. inside- fuck- need you- inside."
you hum against her pussy, the vibrations pulling another gush of wetness out of her as you tease a finger along her entrance.
she's grinding down desperately, "fuck- please- fuck y/n-"
you slowly insert your finger, moaning at how tight she is and how her pussy sucks you in, clenching around you. you don't give her a second to adjust as you start pounding away, sucking her clit into your mouth harshly, fingers pumping in and out of her with practiced speed.
she howls and her grip on your head tightens, you can feel her getting closer as it becomes harder to thrust in and out with how tight she's pulling you in.
"f-fuck! y/n! f-fuck. cumming!" she gushes as you keep thrusting into her, helping her through her high and licking back up to her tattoo, sucking another mark onto her pretty skin.
she relaxes as you pull your fingers out of her, bringing them to your mouth and sucking. you crawl back up kissing gently as she catches her breath, an arm thrown over her eyes. you’re kissing her neck when she abruptly flips you around, smirking down at you, hair cascading her face.
"you've had your fun now. i think it's time i teach you that lesson we were talking about earlier hm?"
her hands are lightning fast as she pulls down the zipper of your dress, slipping it off your body leaving you in your lace red bra and panties. a finger finds its way down to your crotch as she lightly presses down on your clit and you arch your back into her, moaning her name.
"so wet baby. now i'm gonna ask you again and i don't want you to lie to me this time. how many times did you cum tonight?"
"t-two!"
a hand comes down slapping your clothed pussy as you yelp, scrambling away before she yanks your hips back into place and holds you there.
"what did i just say about lying?"
"'m not lying- please!"
she breaks character for a moment, eyes softening as she looks at you with an adoring gaze, "y'know the safe word baby?"
you nod, "raccoon."
she smiles and leans down to peck you, "good girl, don't be scared to use it mmk?"
you nod desperately, "momo please- i'll be good please, please just fuck me."
her eyes narrow again, "it's too late to be good. let's count them hm? first you interrupt me at work, then you disobey me and touch yourself, even going as far as to make yourself cum in front of all of our friends. and let's not forget the bratty attitude you've been giving me all night. you're the furthest thing from good right now." her hands are back at your clit, circling and rubbing until you're squirming under her.
"didn't mean it! just wanted -ah- you to fuck me! not my fault you couldn't do that."
a hand comes down hard on your pussy.
"there's that attitude again. think i'm gonna need to gag you."
your eyes widen at the image, leaking onto her palm.
"you like that? such a slut, getting wet over the thought of being restrained. in fact, let's tie you up too so you don't get any funny ideas."
she's up and back in seconds, gag and silk ties in hand. she makes you strip completely and you feel yourself blush slightly as her gaze on you remains like a hawk.
as opposed to her harsher words, she's gentle while tying you up, making sure the ties are comfortable and not hurting you. your heart flutters at the care she takes and the constant checking in. once you’re all tied up and gagged, spread-eagled with limbs attached to all 4 bedposts, she makes you signal your safe action and as soon as she’s satisfied you’re comfortable with everything, she’s crawling over you again and spreading your legs. 
“so so pretty for me. look at you, dripping onto the sheets.” she runs a finger through your now naked folds as you buck up, pleading for anything.
"so much prettier now that we've shut that foul mouth up too. shame i can't kiss you anymore though." she pouts as she spreads your folds with both hands, blowing gently.
the cold air hits your clit and you shiver slightly in pleasure.
"gonna take this out now," she's pulling the vibrator out of you and you suddenly feel so empty even though the vibrator wasn't too big to begin with.
you're fighting against the restraints, muscles all tense and in anticipation.
"oh don't worry," a dark look passes over momo's face, "i'll fill you up soon enough."
a finger enters you agonisingly slow, and pulls out even slower. she's kissing up your stomach, and takes an erect nipple into her mouth as she repeats this.
you're straining and pulling but she's relaxed, sucking at your tit and kitten licking your nipple. the hand that's not inside you comes up to the other breast, kneading gently and you want to cry. you need things rough and fast and hard and she's giving you the complete opposite. she switches breasts, but doesn't up her pace at all, taking her leisurely time as you writhe underneath her, completely at her control.
your muffled words against the gag make no sense and she comes up and kisses the side of your lip, "shhhhh, baby relax. relax and enjoy it would you?" she continues her kisses to your ears, licking the shell and biting down softly on your earlobe. the hand that's at your breast pinches a nipple and twists. her tongue trails to behind your ear, and then down to the sensitive skin of your neck where she begins to suck lightly. her hand moves to the other nipple and twists it as well, the painful pleasure is driving you insane and you're clenching your jaw around the gag so hard you might just bite into it.
all while her other hand has been pushing in and out of you at the same slow pace she's started in. sometimes she'd be generous and brush against your clit but none of this was going to be able to make you cum.
"if you think you're cumming again tonight you're dead wrong by the way." she hums against your collarbone, "you've come however many times already so the rest of the night you're gonna lie here and look pretty while i take my time making love to every inch of skin i've missed for a month."
you curse internally, eyes tearing up as you subject yourself to her play. she's relentless and unforgiving for the next half an hour. teasing nips, slow licks, and slower fingering.
finally, it seems like she's speeding up a little. thrusting into you with a little more power wt every in, and pulling out a little faster with every out. the hand that has abused your breasts for the last 30 minutes starts gripping harder, pulling at your nipples and pinching them with vigor, twisting, sucking, and flicking her tongue over them and you're building up so quickly after being left stimulated for so long.
she hums against you, "so fucking pretty like this."
you moan as her pace picks up, two fingers pushing in and out of you, hard enough that your breasts start to bounce with each thrust and she adores that, pulling back to watch as the saliva-slicked mounds bounce with each thrust. a third finger enters and your eyes widen, her gaze set on you making you clench around her as you come closer and closer to the edge.
she's leaning down again and blowing against your wet nipples and you're so close to coming and-
fuck! she's stopped completely, hovering over you with a teasing smile on her face that you would give anything to wipe off right now. she coos, "awwwwwwh you look so adorable frowning like that. is my baby mad? mad she didn't get to cum?"
you nod, your eyebrows creasing together.
"well what'd i say earlier hm? you've had your share today. you're going to learn how to stop being so selfish and greedy after you've already come so many times."
she's sliding down your stomach now, grinning up at you from between your legs, before swooping in, tongue hot against your folds as she sucks and licks and bites.
you're writhing again, so easily built up and you come so close, so fucking close, trying your hardest to close your thighs around her head to trap her there but the silk ties prevent you from doing so. and she pulls away again. you want to pull your hair out in frustration.
she's looking at you in amusement. moving off and going to grab something you can't see because you're still tied to this fucking bed.
when she returns she's sporting an 8-inch strap on that bobs along as happily as she is when she skips over towards you. it's almost absurd how adorable she looks with a fake pink dick attached to her and you'd laugh but you just need her inside you so fucking bad you're crying instead.
she's on you again, dragging the lubed up strap along your folds, letting it catch at your clit before moving back down towards your entrance and repeating.
she giggles as you frown, "i'm gonna fuck you until i cum now. if you cum i'm stopping and riding this myself while you watch tied up. understand?"
you nod quickly, needing her to just get inside you already.
she pecks your nose and starts to slide in. you're already moaning at the feeling, pussy clenching and pulling her in deeper until she bottoms out, hips meeting, skin touching.
she lets out a low breath, "fuuck y/n. you have no idea how fucking good you look right now."
she watches in awe as she pulls out, strap even wetter than it was before it went in, and she pushes back in roughly without warning.
"mmph!" you're caught off guard, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sudden combination of pain and pleasure that leaves you reeling.
she doesn't take her time this round. she's pulling out and pushing back in before you know it, setting a ruthless pace as she pants above you, eyes locked on the way she was splitting you open with every upward thrust.
your eyes drift down to her breasts, still trapped within her bra and you desperately wish you could free them, suck on her nipples or play with her mounds, or just watch them bounce up and down as she rutted into you.
she's huffing when she notices your gaze, "s-slut wanting- hah- my tits h-huh?" she stops for a second, hilted inside you as she quickly unclasps her bra and pulls it off, returning to her unforgiveable pace. "mm- there- fuck- you go. can't do anything about it because your tied up and gagged but you appreciate the view don't you?" she's smirking as she pushes herself upward, running a hand through her messy hair as she continues to plunge into you and you think you could die right now.
she brings a hand up to a breast and squeezes, nipple coming out between fingers as she pulls and twists it, moaning at the feeling, head falling back exposing her pretty neck. you're trying your hardest to focus on her and not how close you were to cumming and she's giving you the perfect distraction.
you falter though, as your eyes drift further down, reminded again of the tattoo that outlines her hips, clenching hard as the sight of her lower abs prominently drawing your attention to her strap.
"eugh- you're so fucking- uh- tight around me baby. fuck- are you gonna cum? it's getting harder to pull out with how hard you're -mmf- clenching."
you can't handle everything that's going on. the build up of the entire day creeping into a tight ball in your stomach.
and then she's pulling out again and you lurch forward with a cry. no! god you were so close again fuck!
but before you knew it you felt the ties around your limbs loosening and the gag being taken out of your mouth. you're flipped around onto your hands and knees and she's pushing back into you at an even rougher angle that scratched just the spot to make you see stars.
"fuck! fuck fuck fuck-" you can finally be vocal again as the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, the bedhead thumping against the wall with how rough momo was pounding into you.
"yeah? you -ugh- like that?"
"fuck yes! oh fuck you're so deep inside me mo- please, please let me cum i need to cum around you, please,"
she moans pulling you up so you're only on your knees, "yeah? fuck- you think you -shit- deserve to cum after all this?"
you're crying as you feel a hand slip down your stomach and rub against your clit roughly, "yes please! i've been so good i- fuck- please! momo!"
another hand comes up and pinches your nipple, she's thrusting into you at an impossible speed, heavy breaths against your ear muttering curses, "fine. cum y/n. cum for me."
you let go with glee, falling down onto the mattress as her hands move back to your hips, pistoning into you trying to reach her own high. you feel her spasm and moan, falling onto your back, still lightly thrusting as the both of you ride out your highs together. you don't think you've had an orgasm this good since the first time she used the strap on you, the build up of your ruined orgasm at the club and the several times momo edged you tonight coming to climax.
heavy breaths fill the room as you both try and catch your winds again. she's the first to pull out slowly, and you groan at the feeling, pussy still sensitive from the fucking you got. she tosses the strap to the side, cuddling into your back, wrapping an arm around your midriff.
you turn in her arms, snuggling into her chest and breathing in her scent. her hands come up to brush through your hair relaxingly, and you're brought back to the world listening to her heartbeat slow down.
your hand comes up and lightly traces over her tattoo again, and she hums in pleasure at the feeling.
"good?" she asks.
you chuckle into her chest, "so fucking good i think i almost peed myself."
she snorts that loveable snort that you've missed and kisses your forehead. "speaking of peeing, c'mon, gotta get you cleaned up."
you whine, clutching her waist, "noooooo 10 minutes pleaseeeeee."
she rolls her eyes fondly, "you're going to fall asleep."
"'m not." but a yawn betrays you.
she laughs, "yes you will. c'mon."
you groan as she pulls you up, eyes flickering down again to her tattoo.
"i love it mo."
she smiles, "i knew you would you big idiot."
"don't keep stuff from me again."
"yeah yeah, you're a big girl and you can act mature, suuuure."
you stomp your foot like a child, blushing when she laughs at the action proving exactly what she just implied.
"fine you're right, but doesn't mean i like you for it."
"shut up dork, you love me."
you sigh, meeting her eyes, overwhelmed with the way you feel for her, "yeah... yeah i do."
she smiles dragging you towards the bathroom, "i love you too dummy. now let's get cleaned up before you catch a cold."
you sneeze and she laughs at you but you think you're probably the luckiest person alive to be able to be with your girlfriend.
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dragon-kazansky · 1 day
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Six - Splendid
♡♡♡
"Eloise Bridgerton."
Benedict calls his sister when he finds her smoking on the swing set in their garden. He sounded stern, as if scolding her.
Eloise groans softly as she turns on the swing. "Go on, then." She lifts the cigarette to her lips. "Chastise me."
"Spare one for me?" He asks.
Eloise is surprised by his question. He comes and sits on the other swing beside her. She holds a cigarette out to him, and he takes it, putting it between his lips and lighting it.
"Suppose I desire something different." Eloise says.
"How do you mean?"
"Just different. I watch Daphne prepare for these balls with all of those dresses and the many suitors, and I am exhausted. Suppose I want a different life, Benedict. That I truly believe I am quite capable of something more, even when I'm not allowed to have anything else."
"Then I would say... that you're not the only one." He looks at her. They smile at each other.
♡♡♡
With the next edition of Whistledown comes fascinating gossip. You find yourself, for once, clutching the paper with the need to read more.
It has become apparent that Lord Berbrooke has a child out of wedlock, and not only that, with a maid he had sent away before the child was even born. He pays nothing for the child, it seems.
Your mother had been gossiping about with the other ladies she had over for afternoon tea. In turn, their maids had gone off to gossip further.
Word spread like wildfire.
The next day, Lord Berbrooke had left town suddenly.
You made it a point to go visit Daphne. You were taken up to the drawing room where she awaited you, a smile on her face as you came in.
"It's nice of you to visit."
You take a seat with her. "I wanted to see how you were."
"I have expected you come see my brother," she admits.
"Benedict? As much as he has become my friend, I felt the need to come see you. Are you alright?"
"I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders." She smiles softly. "I am glad he is gone."
"As am I. Wretched man, he was."
You both giggle softly.
"So, the duke? He is still on your favour?" You ask.
Daphne goes silent for a moment, and then her face twitches. A realisation. The realisation she must still pretend.
"Ah, yes." She smiles.
You smile in return and take her hand. "You make a most handsome couple."
"Thank you." Her voice wavers.
You do not bring up Hastings or Berbrooke again as you have tea with Daphne. The conversation becomes pleasant. Daphne finds herself talking to you about anything that comes to mind. Not once has any of her siblings sat down and listened to her like this.
It felt nice. Really nice.
An hour passes, and you find the teapot has been emptied twice in that time. There are no more biscuits to share either. You rise from the soft sofa and gather you purse.
"Thank you for letting me visit."
"Oh, nonsense. You are always welcome." Daphne smiles.
"I shall visit again then."
Daphne looks pleased by your words.
"Benedict will be so disappointed you came by and didn't stop to see him."
You chuckle. "Let him suffer. It may humble him."
Daphne chuckles and sees you out.
♡♡♡
The next ball is as dazzling as the others. You swear with each one, Daphne gets more and more beautiful. She enters with the Duke. Of course, everyone sees.
You entered with your mother, no one paying you any mind what so ever. Not that you minded any more. You had come to terms that no one would visit you.
As Simon and Daphne dance, you decide to take a walk. You have no idea what it is they discuss when alone together.
You keep your eyes peeled for any familiar faces. Yet, no one else is present in this current room.
Meanwhile, Daphne parts from Simon and is approached by another gentleman. Her wish to find a husband and have a family may very well come true.
As you enter the next room, you find Anthony in there talking with some others. His gaze lands on you, and he excuses himself from the current conversation. He approaches you.
You smile and bow your head. "Lord Bridgerton."
"Anthony, please. You call my brothers by their name."
You smile. "Anthony."
"Benedict isn't here, I'm afraid. He has elected to sit this one out. May I have the honour?" He holds out his hand.
You take a moment to take in his request. Anthony was head of his family. A viscount. Dancing with him would surely bring you attention.
You place your hand in his. "You may."
Anthony takes you back into the other room and leads you to the dance floor. He holds you as a gentleman should while dancing with a lady. You both move with the music.
Anthony look very firm as he dances with you.
"I must say, this is an honour."
"Is it?" He asks.
"I never see you dance."
"No. I suppose not. I am not beyond dancing with friends." He says kindly.
"Then I am even more so honoured to be considered such."
You both continue dancing until the music ends. You curtsy, he bows. Anthony takes your hand and leads you back to the side of the room. With swift ease, he marks his name down on your dance card.
"I shall see to it you are never left without a dance partner, my lady," he says with a bow.
You smile.
As Anthony returns to the party, you find yourself now being looked at by others. There are gentlemen looking your way.
Could it be true that Daphne is not the only one who can shine?
Soon, you are dancing again, and a few more names are scribbled across your dance card.
You think, perhaps, Daphne Bridgerton is your good luck charm.
It makes you giddy.
Safe to say, your night was splendid indeed.
♡♡♡
@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333
@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173
@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner
@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -
@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy -
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thewulf · 18 hours
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The Analyst's Arrival || Aaron Hotchner
Summary: Request - Hi can I request a hotch x bau reader? I'm sure its been done before but I just love your hotch fics!! When Strauss hires the reader without Aaron Hotchner's approval, tensions run high. Hotch is distant and a little mean, but the reader's unwavering positivity and kindness start to chip away at his walls... Read Rest Here
A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy!
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,
Word Count: 4.2k
TW: Yelling, gunshots (non wounded), general CM triggers
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The BAU conference room hums quietly with the usual pre-meeting chatter. Derek flicks a crumpled paper ball at Spencer who is engrossed in his latest physics journal. While JJ shares weekend plans with Prentiss. The light mood does little to ease the stiffness in Aaron Hotchner’s posture as he stands at the head of the table with his folders organized neatly in front of him.
The door swings open and Erin Strauss steps in. It was a rare occurrence that immediately draws everyone’s attention. You follow behind her, your confident stride belying the curious glances you receive from the team.
"Good morning, everyone," Strauss begins. Her voice pulling the room into a focused silence. "I’d like you to meet Agent Y/N L/N. She’s joining us from the NYPD where she served in the Major Crimes unit. Agent L/N has a sharp analytical mind and extensive field experience which I’m confident will be invaluable to our team."
Hotchner's eyes narrow slightly, not at you, but at the way Strauss seems to relish the surprise on his face. He had not been informed of this decision—a move that didn't just sidestep his authority but outright ignored it. A move he hated.
As polite smiles and nods pass around the room, Hotchner remains motionless. His gaze finally landing on you. You seem unaffected by the tension your presence has stirred as you returned his scrutiny with a polite, unwavering smile.
"I'm very excited to be here and look forward to working with each of you," you spoke. Your voice steady and warm. "I’ve heard only the best about the BAU team."
"Thank you Agent L/N," Strauss cuts in smoothly. "I’ll leave you in Agent Hotchner’s capable hands." With a final nod Strauss exits, the click of her heels echoing a stark finality to her departure.
There is a brief silence as you linger in the doorway. "Why don’t we get started then?" Hotchner says. His tone more a command than a suggestion. "Morgan, Reid, can you bring Agent L/N up to speed on the current case?"
As the team dives into the details of their latest unsolved case Hotch observes you. You listen intently, asking pertinent questions that demonstrate not just your understanding but your capability to dive right into the deep end. Despite his initial resistance he can't help but admit—albeit grudgingly—that you seem competent.
Yet as the meeting progresses Hotch feels a gnawing sense of irritation. It isn't directed at you, but at Strauss and the situation he’s been forced into. Watching you interact with his team, a part of him wants to see what you can do. To see if Strauss’s confidence in you is justified. But as the leader of the BAU and with walls built from years of leadership, admitting that will take a bit more than just a good first impression.
In the days following your introduction the BAU team falls into a familiar rhythm with you, gradually weaving you into the fabric of their tightly knit group. Spencer shares book recommendations, curious about your interests. While Morgan teases lightly, testing your sense of humor. Prentiss and JJ involve you in their lunch outings often asking about your experiences with the NYPD.
However, Hotchner maintains a professional distance. During briefings he is succinct, his interactions with you strictly businesslike. His questions about your reports are pointed and perhaps harsher than necessary. You sense his doubt. Not just in his words but in the lingering looks that question your conclusions or the slight frown when you speak up during meetings.
One afternoon you're updating the team on a profile you've been developing. "Based on the victimology the unsub is likely someone with a deep-seated resentment towards authority figures. Possibly stemming from a troubled childhood," you explain as you clicked through the presentation slides.
"Seems like a stretch without more evidence," Hotchner interrupts abruptly. His critique hangs in the air. Heavier than the typical scrutiny profiles usually receive. You notice a brief exchange of looks among the team, but they remain silent.
Despite this you maintain your composure, responding calmly. "I'll dive deeper into the case files and see if I can substantiate that with more specific behaviors," you assure him with a nod that's meant to show both your respect for his experience and your confidence in your own skills.
As you work later in the quiet of the empty briefing room refining your profile, Hotchner watches from his office. The light from his desk lamp casts a long shadow and his expression is unreadable. The easy acceptance from others contrasts starkly with his skepticism and it's clear that you have yet to earn his trust.
One evening as you're the last two in the office Hotchner approaches your desk with his usual resolve towards you. "Agent L/N, I want our profiles to be watertight. I can't have assumptions without solid evidence," he states. His voice low and firm.
"I understand, sir," you reply, meeting his gaze. "I appreciate your guidance. I'm here to learn and contribute as effectively as I can."
There's a pause, a moment where something unspoken passes between you. Perhaps it's the acknowledgment of your dedication, or maybe it's Hotchner wrestling with his own reluctance to accept change. He nods curtly and leaves you to your work.
Despite the cold front you don't let it dampen your spirit. Instead, you double down on your efforts, pouring over case files late into the night. You were determined to prove your worth not just to Hotchner, but to yourself. Your positivity and commitment slowly chip away at the team's initial reservations and even though Hotchner remains distant you start to feel like a part of the BAU family.
As weeks pass your insights during case reviews become sharper. Your suggestions more intuitive. The team begins to rely on your judgment. They sought out your opinion, and slowly, very slowly, you notice a thaw in Hotchner's demeanor—a nod here, a less critical question there.
But the wall he has built around him isn't one to crumble quickly and you know that gaining Hotchner's full trust will be a marathon, not a sprint. Still, your unwavering kindness and the diligent sparkle in your eyes during every case discussion continue to sow seeds of change. Even in the stony ground of Hotch’s reserved heart.
A couple of weeks later and Hotch finally decides you’re ready to join the team in the field instead of staying behind with Penelope. Not that you didn’t like working with her you were just craving to do what you were hired to do.
The air is thick with tension as the BAU team arrives at the suspected hideout of the unsub at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. It's late, the darkness only broken by the beams of flashlights and the occasional flicker of police sirens in the distance. Hotchner's orders are clear and concise. His voice a calm command over the sound of rustling tactical gear.
"Reid, Y/N, you're with me. Morgan, Prentiss, take the east side. Radio if you make contact. Everyone, stay sharp," Hotchner instructs. His eyes scanning the perimeter before leading you and Reid towards the main entrance.
The warehouse is a labyrinth of shadows and echoing spaces. A place that seems to absorb sound and light alike. You follow Hotch with your senses heightened every training you’ve undergone pulsing through your veins. As you navigate through a maze of crates and discarded machinery, a noise—a soft scuffle, almost imperceptible—catches your attention. You signal to Hotchner and Reid pointing towards a dark corridor off to the left.
"Stay here, cover us," Hotchner whispers. His gun raised as he edges toward the sound with Reid close behind.
You position yourself with your back to a solid surface, gun aimed at the corridor. Your mind races through various scenarios, but nothing prepares you for the sight of a figure lunging out of the shadows. Heading straight for Reid with a knife glinting in the dim light.
Without a moment's hesitation you break cover, tackling Reid out of the knife’s path. The impact sends you both sprawling to the ground just as Hotchner turns, firing off two quick shots. The unsub goes down, a groan echoing off the walls.
"Reid, you okay?" Hotchner is immediately by your side. His usual stoic demeanor replaced by concern.
"Yeah, thanks to Y/N," Reid gasps. His eyes wide with the adrenaline of the near miss.
Hotchner turns to you. His expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly his features soften, the corners of his eyes crinkling not with frustration, but something akin to gratitude. "Good work, Agent L/N. That was quick thinking."
Your heart pounds not just from the action but also from Hotchner's acknowledgment. "Just doing my job, sir," you manage to choke out though the gravity of the moment isn't lost on you.
As the team secures the scene and paramedics check over everyone Hotchner keeps glancing your way, his gaze lingering longer than usual. In those looks there’s a new respect, perhaps even a reassessment of his earlier doubts about you.
Later, as the team debriefs back at the BAU, Hotch publicly commends your actions. "Agent L/N’s instincts and bravery tonight might have saved Dr. Reid’s life and potentially others. Excellent work."
The team’s applause is warm, genuine, and you can't help but feel a surge of pride. More than the praise it’s Hotchner’s nod of respect towards you that marks a significant shift. It's a turning point not just in your relationship with him but in your place within the team. Your actions have not only proven your worth, but they’ve begun to dismantle the walls Hotchner had built around himself, brick by brick.
In the weeks following the intense warehouse operation the dynamic within the BAU team subtly shifts. You are no longer just the new agent. You have proven yourself as a vital part of the team. Hotchner notices the change not only in how the team interacts with you but also in his own perceptions.
One crisp autumn morning as the trees outside the Quantico offices burst with gold and russet hues, Hotchner finds himself observing you from across the bullpen. You’re assisting Morgan with recalibrating the physical training program for new recruits. The ease with which you handle the task, balancing Morgan’s strength with strategic insights, does not go unnoticed by Hotchner. There's a gentleness mixed with competence in your approach. A stark contrast to the decisive action you displayed in the field.
Later that day, you offer to stay late to help Morgan review the training schedules, ensuring they are optimized for the team’s needs. Garcia joins in eager to add her tech-savvy touch. Hotchner overhears laughter from the office you’re sharing, a sound that is light and genuine, making him pause as he packs up for the night. The sound of friendship and shared effort makes the BAU feel more like a tight nit family and he realizes you are a big part of that shift.
During a team briefing the following week Hotch openly seeks your opinion on the psychological conditioning aspects of the training program. As you outline your thoughts by citing recent research and adaptive training methods he listens intently. The team watches this interaction, clearly seeing Hotchner’s respect for you which influences their own views.
When the team encounters a critical situation with a string of high intensity raids you suggest an innovative tactical maneuver that saves valuable time and minimizes risk. Watching you handle the pressure with composed determination Hotch feels a significant shift within himself—a deep-seated respect for your skills and a growing admiration for your resilience.
It’s not just your professional competence that reshapes his thoughts but also your empathy and dedication. You take the time to ensure that the team is not only prepared physically but supported mentally. A role that enriches the team in ways Hotchner hadn't anticipated.
One evening as everyone is about to leave you pass by Hotchner’s office. He calls you in, an impromptu gesture that surprises even him. “Agent L/N,” he begins, his voice reflecting a mix of professional respect and something more tentative. “I’ve been meaning to say… your work, especially in these past weeks, has been exemplary. I initially misjudged you and I want you to know I appreciate what you bring to the team.”
Your response is a nod accompanied by a warm smile, but his words catch you off guard and a faint blush colors your cheeks. “Thank you, sir. I’m just glad to be here, and I really truly appreciate your guidance.”
It's then, in that quiet moment, as the setting sun casts a warm glow through his office window highlighting the blush on your face and the sincerity in your eyes that Hotchner sees something he hadn't fully allowed himself to recognize before. The softness of the light, the quiet dignity with which you accept his praise and the undeniable warmth of your smile strike him profoundly.
For a brief moment Hotchner is silent, observing you not just as a capable agent but as a person whose presence has subtly but indelibly changed the fabric of the team—and his own perceptions. The realization that he finds you beautiful, in more ways than one, surfaces quietly but powerfully in his mind. This acknowledgment isn't just about your physical appearance but encompasses the entirety of your influence on him and the team.
As you leave his office with a certain lightness in your step. The thoughtful look on Hotchner's face mark a turning point. It's a small almost imperceptible moment, but it’s one where personal and professional lines blur slightly, hinting at deeper unspoken possibilities that neither of you may yet fully understand.
The next case up had been grueling with long hours and high stakes that left the entire team feeling the weight of their responsibilities. As the post-case debrief wraps up in the BAU conference room the team disperses, leaving behind a palpable relief mixed with the usual fatigue. But as everyone else heads out to grasp at some much-needed rest, Hotchner lingers at the conference table organizing his notes with more care than perhaps necessary.
Seeing you gathering your belongings slowly he finds the resolve to address the change he's felt brewing within him. "Agent L/N, could I have a moment?" he asks. His voice much softer than usual.
You nod, curious, setting your bag down and returning to the table. The room is quiet now, lit only by the dim lights left on for the night shift.
Hotchner takes a deep breath, his demeanor uncharacteristically open. "I owe you an apology," he starts. His eyes meeting yours. "When you first joined the team, I was... less than welcoming. I questioned your capabilities. Not because of any fault in your record or your behavior, but because I was resistant to the change you represented."
You listen, surprised by his candor, as he continues, "I've always insisted on control, on predictability. After everything I’ve been through, it seemed like the only way to protect the team, to protect my family from further loss. But I've come to realize that I was protecting myself more than anyone."
Hotchner pauses. His gaze shifting away momentarily before returning to yours, more intense, more vulnerable. "You’ve brought a new perspective to the team, a resilience and warmth that I didn't know we needed. You've saved lives, not just through your actions in the field but by being who you are. And...” he hesitates, the next words clearly weighing heavily on him, “and I find myself grateful, not just for your contributions to the team, but for the light you've brought into my life."
Your heart skips a beat at his words. The formal barriers between you melting away in the quiet honesty of the moment. “Thank you, Hotch," you respond, your voice low. You were touched by his admission. "I’ve always admired your dedication and getting to see this side of you, it means a lot."
Hotchner nods with a slight smile breaking through his usual reserve. "I guess what I’m really trying to say is, I would like to... explore this, whatever this is, with you. If you’re open to it," he adds quickly, almost awkwardly.
As the room quiets and you acknowledge Aaron Hotchner’s feelings. Even though your elated you feel that pit of dread form in your stomach. Aaron was your superior… a shadow of concern passes over your face, quickly deepening into visible anxiety. "Hotch," you start, your voice carrying a mix of hope and worry that quickly spirals into panic. "What about Strauss? If things change between us... I mean, if we do this, couldn’t it really complicate things? What if it impacts the team, or your position, or—"
Seeing your distress, Hotchner steps closer. His expression softening significantly as he picks up on your escalating fears. "Hey," he interjects gently, his tone soothing. "Let’s just take a moment, okay?"
You pause, your breath shaky, caught up in the whirlwind of potential consequences that his words had unwittingly unleashed.
Hotchner reaches out slowly. He was giving you time to accept his comfort before his hands rest lightly on your shoulders. "We're not going to rush into anything," he assures you, his voice calm and steady. "Yes, there are risks, and you’re absolutely right to consider them. But we’re not in this alone. We have a team that supports us, and we have each other."
His words help, but it's the firm comforting presence of his hands, the warmth from his touch, that really begins to calm your racing thoughts. "We'll be careful," he continues. "We’ll make decisions together. I respect you too much to let this cause you any distress. If it ever becomes too much, we stop and we stay professional. That’s a promise."
Your breathing slows, steadied by his reassurances. Looking into his eyes you find a sincere commitment there. A steadiness that you’ve always admired in him now directed towards nurturing whatever might grow between you.
Seeing that you’re still tense, Hotchner does something he rarely does—he pulls you gently into a hug. It’s a careful gesture making sure to respect the boundaries but offering comfort. "We’ll handle whatever comes, together," he murmurs. "You're not in this alone."
The hug was unexpected but deeply comforting. It helps to dissolve the last of your apprehensions. You let out a slow breath, allowing yourself to lean into the embrace. You felt a sense of safety in his support.
"Thank you, Hotch," you manage to say with your voice muffled slightly against his shoulder. "I needed to hear that. One step at a time. I can do that."
"One step at a time," he confirms. Giving you a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to respect your space. "We have all the time we need."
As you both leave the conference room, your steps feel lighter. The burden of immediate decisions lifted. With Hotch’s support you feel ready to face whatever challenges might come knowing that not just the weight of the case, but also the weight of new possibilities could be shared.
In the weeks that follow your relationship with Hotchner develops quietly but deeply. Both of you are cautious, acutely aware of the professional boundaries that must be maintained in the intense environment of the BAU. Yet outside of those walls, in the small, stolen moments you find together, a new world seems to unfold. A world where you can be just Aaron and Y/N, not agents with burdens too heavy to bear alone.
You start with simple coffee dates after long shifts where the conversation drifts from case debriefs to shared interests in literature and quiet confessions about your lives outside the FBI. These moments are a revelation, filled with laughter and soft looks that linger longer than necessary. They are moments that stitch the fabric of your relationship tighter with every thread of shared vulnerability and joy.
Aaron, who has always been guarded with his emotions, finds in you an understanding ear and a comforting presence. You learn about his son, Jack, about the painful loss of his wife, and how these experiences shaped him, not just as an agent but as a man who fiercely protects those he loves. Your empathy and gentle encouragement help him navigate the lingering shadows of his past. Allowing him to embrace the possibility of happiness again.
For you, Aaron becomes the person you didn’t know you needed in his strength. His steadfast nature and unyielding integrity inspire you, guiding you through the complexities of your role within the BAU. His belief in your abilities boosts your confidence and his support becomes your anchor in the turbulent sea of your demanding careers.
Together you navigate the highs and lows of life at the BAU. After particularly harrowing cases it’s Aaron who helps you decompress by taking long walks by the lake near your apartment or simply sitting together in comfortable silence. And it’s you who brings light into his evenings with Jack making sure to join them for movie nights and slowly becoming part of the family he holds dear.
The relationship does not go unnoticed by the team but the respect you both maintain at work ensures that your personal lives enrich your professionalism rather than detract from it. Your colleagues see the subtle changes—how Aaron smiles a bit more, how you’re both more relaxed despite the demands of your job.
After a few months of dating, you and Aaron walk hand in hand along the quiet paths of a nearby park, he stops, pulling you close. The city lights cast a soft glow around you, and the world feels like it’s holding its breath. "Y/N, these past months have shown me something I hadn’t dared to hope for," he says, his voice low and full of emotion. "That it’s possible to find light even in the darkest places. You’ve brought that light into my life."
You smile while reaching up to touch his face gently. "And you’ve shown me that strength isn’t just about holding up the world on your own, but knowing when to share the load," you reply, your heart full. "I love you, Aaron."
"I love you too, Y/N," he whispers, and as he leans down to kiss you, it feels like a promise. A promise of a future together where love and understanding can thrive amidst the chaos of the life you’ve chosen.
As autumn turns into winter the relationship between you and Aaron blooms amidst the frosty edges of the season, weaving warmth into the crisp air around you. Your love, quiet but profound, becomes the silent strength that both of you draw from during the demanding days at the BAU.
One chilly December evening after a usually tough case that had stretched your limits and tested your resilience, Aaron plans something special to celebrate not just the end of the case but the life you are building together. When you arrive at his house after the long day, you find the living room transformed into a cozy winter wonderland. It was complete with soft blankets, flickering candles, and a fireplace that crackles with warmth.
Jack was at a sleepover and Aaron greets you at the door with a gentle smile dressed in a comfortable sweater that makes him look homier than ever. "I thought we could use a quiet night in," he smiles while leading you into the room.
The table is set with your favorite foods and there’s a gentle playlist humming through the speakers filled with songs that have slowly become 'yours'. Aaron pulls out a chair for you, his manners impeccable as always, but his eyes are shining with a joy that is purely personal. As you eat, the conversation flows easily—plans for the holiday, funny anecdotes from the day, shared dreams for the future. After dinner Aaron leads you to the couch where a blanket is draped invitingly. He sits beside you pulling you close into his side, and you nestle against him feeling the steady beat of his heart.
“Y/N,” Aaron murmurs, his voice soft in the quiet of the room, “when I think about all we’ve been through, I realize every moment led me right here, to this. To us. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
You look up at him touched by the sincerity in his voice. “And I can’t imagine a better person to share my life with,” you reply. Your hand finding his. “You make everything... brighter. More beautiful.”
Aaron smiles, his gaze tender. “I have something for you,” he says while reaching into his pocket to pull out a small, exquisitely wrapped box. He opens it to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a pendant that glimmers softly in the firelight—a compass.
“It’s to remind us that no matter where we go or what cases we face, we’ll always find our way back to each other,” he explains. His fingers brushing lightly over the pendant before fastening it around your neck.
You touch the pendant overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gift. “It’s perfect, Aaron. Just like this night, like this.”
He leans in with his lips meeting yours in a kiss that is slow and sweet, a seal over promises made and kept. The rest of the evening passes in gentle laughter, shared kisses, and dreams whispered between the folds of blankets under the watchful glow of firelight and twinkling stars outside your window.
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Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y
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acourtofthought · 21 hours
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What would you say are the top 3 (or 5) strongest clues that say Elucien/Gwynriel are gonna happen? The ones that really feel so solid to you.
Ooooh, this is a good question.
For Gwynriel:
That Gwyn is the only character to treat Az's shadows as being separate from himself. It' like a guy who begins dating a girl who has children but he never pays attention to them versus the guy who goes out of his way to get to know the children, proving that he understands the girl and her children are a packaged deal.
That Az is not looking as Gwyn as someone in need of his protection. I'm sure there will be some of that in their book, mates always look out for one another, but there is a big difference between "we can do this together" versus, "I'll do it for you so you don't get hurt".
That Gwyn seems to have a bloodthirsty side to her personality, just as Az does. He can torture in a symphony of pain which means he has chosen to finesse his craft. He's not "let's get this over as quick as possible because I don't like it," it's, "I'm going to draw this out nice and slow and make it hurt in ways you never dreamed." I think he feels guilty about his enjoyment of it afterward because he thinks it makes him a bad person but I think he gets satisfaction from the actual act. Someone like Gwyn who was excited over the thought of the Valkyries cracking skulls and skewering their enemies is well matched for his brutality.
That Gwyn and Az seem to prefer a smaller group of friends over being extremely social, the life of the party. Neither seems to mind their alone time.
For Elucien, there are so many:
That Elain and Lucien share important core values. They are quick to apologize for failing others, they both prefer to avoid violence, they both enjoy being social and engaging with others. There will never be a time where they have to check up on one another, "I'm sorry, is this too overwhelming for you? We can head home if you need".
That Lucien has been loyal to Elain and only Elain ever since he found out who she was to him. No, he did not instantly love her but he chose to respect their bond while he took the time to learn about her whereas he could have easily continued his rakish ways especially after learning she was engaged to someone else. Loyalty to the FMC is sexy.
That Lucien was the one to meet Elain's father and live in the human lands. These are two enormous parts of Elain's past, things that mattered a great deal to her and it will only ever be Lucien who has insider knowledge of who her father was and what being human is about.
That SJM retconned Lucien's father so he'd have the power of the sun in his veins and had Elain constantly by the sunniest windows, as if any bit of darkness was abhorrent, claiming that she needs Sunshine.
That Elain has not yet touched or truly gotten to know Lucien. If the author wanted us to see why they were poorly matched, she would have shown them interacting. She would have shown that despite their best efforts to acknowledge their bond, they were just not fitting. Instead, she has Elain keeping Lucien at a distance book after book and I will never believe the answer to that puzzle is because "she doesn't like him," "she's clearly not interested." An author would more likely prevent two mates from interacting in a major way because she knows there is something there. She knows characters like Elain and Lucien need to remain apart because their chemistry will be obvious the second they start really talking.
Because Elain can hear Lucien's heart and because she is the most beautiful female he'd ever seen. Because he knew she needed fresh air when every single other person in the IC just accepted her being cooped up in her room for weeks. There is a connection between Elucien that is never going away and it would ruin any other romance for either character. No matter what Elain might share with someone else, Lucien is always going to hold a piece of her that the other cannot touch.
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sleepyghostuwu · 2 days
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The Artist and the Gem: Part 1
"I'm pretty sure this only happens in dreams."
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Synopsis: An IPC member part-timing as an artist unknowingly spices up her life when a certain colleague comes to her for a leisurely art commission.
Notes: Fem! Reader POV since it's what I'm more comfy writing in for this series. I also have no clue how art commissions work so apologies if it isn't lore-accurate ^^"
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Ping!
You groan as you reluctantly reach for your phone for the umpteenth time today, bracing yourself to read your client's incessant texts about your work progress despite it being mere weeks since they first contacted you. Combining that with the fact that your supervisors were piling you with more paperwork these days made it all the more frustrating to deal with.
"Hi again! I feel the need to mention that I have a full-time job outside of my artist life, and also take note that it takes time in general to complete multiple people's commissions over time. I will send you more WIPs once I'm available to do so. Thanks for your patience!"
As cordial as the text sounded when you sent it out, you were like a pot filled with boiling water, ready to burst in fury in the event that client continues to add fuel to the fire. Too angry to continue doing work properly, you excused yourself to get a drink at the pantry.
As the coffee machine whirred to life on the counter, you hear your phone ringing again. Doing your utmost to keep your composure, your trembling hands open your inbox. This time, it was not your current client who texted you, but a new one.
"Hey (username), I find your artworks to be rather intriguing. I saw on your webpage that you're still taking in commissions, so I was wondering if I could trouble you to do one for me."
"At least this one's polite about this," you muttered as you replied to their message with equal respect.
"Hey there! Happy to know that you appreciate my art! My commission list is quite full at the moment, so I'm afraid that it will take long while to complete yours. Would you mind if your commission took a longer time to complete, or would you rather contact me another time instead?"
That should do, you think to yourself as you retrieve your coffee cup from the machine and take a sip of your drink. Your phone rings again.
"It's all good. Take as much time as you need. I'm not in a rush :)"
Your eyes practically lit up upon reading that message. Unlimited time for a commission? In times like these? Is this heaven?? You quickly shoot back another text.
"Very well. What would you like me to draw, then?"
"I would like you to draw a portrait of Aventurine from the IPC."
...
You've got to be kidding me.
You blink furiously at your client's art request, trying to make sure that you did not misread whatever they sent to you.
"That's an interesting request you got here."
Who even is requesting for this from me? A fan from the Aventurine Fan Squad? For all you knew, any of your colleagues could have either chanced upon your art account or decided to knowingly exploit your creativity for their own pleasure. As you type out the default reminder for them to pay up as per your terms, your phone rings twice.
[100,000 Credits have been transferred to your bank account.]
"Say less. Wishing you the best of luck ;)"
You take a huge gulp of coffee as you switch off your phone, evidently more stressed about your artistic career than you already were before. With such a hefty sum of money transferred to you for a singular drawing, chances are that you will have to pool in all of your creativity for this particular commission if it means that your mystery client would be assured to get their money's worth. Taking a glimpse at the nearest clock within your hindsight, you quickly down your coffee before rushing back to your cubicle, ready to check off your task list if it meant more time to draw later on.
---
As you briskly return to your cubicle to work, a certain blond man in green glances at you from a distance and smiles.
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sig1ls · 2 days
Text
ENLIGHT ME, MY DEAR.
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warnings : angst , arguing , hurt slight comfort , angst with happy ending , threats , small RE revelations 2 refrences , Leon really just needs a hug , Leon has commitment issues , Leon doesn’t know how to ground himself, set after raccoon city, Leon likes the readers tits, a little spicy.
summary : y/n was very much aware of what they were getting themself into when they started to date Leon, they knew he was cold, they knew what his job had done to him, so why were they so upset?
relationship : Leon Kennedy x G!N Reader w/ female anatomy.
notes : based on romantic homicide by d4vd , i reccomend listening to it while reading. divider from cafekitsune.
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“I’m scared,” y/n started their sentence. A confused looking Leon stood before them, looking down to meet their eyes; “It feels like you don’t care.” they finished, causing the taller blonde’s eyes to widen in shock.
“Angel- what do you mean? I do care,” Leon muttered, his eyebrows knitting together, so many thoughts ran through his mind, was his angel leaving? was he not good enough? was his trauma too much for them?
“This is the 10th time you’ve failed to show up for our dates, Leon.” y/n almost shouts, their voice raising more than leon had ever heard, causing him to almost stumble back.
“What-? Angel, i haven’t ever done tha-” Leon starts, pondering if what just came from his mouth really was true, and he realises it was not; “shit..” he mutters again.
“You can’t ‘Angel’ your way out of this one.” y/n stated, their stare cold as it felt like it almost froze leon like an ice bottle.
Leon tries to lean down to kiss y/n’s forehead but they push him back, and in that moment he broke down. He sank to the floor, his eyes turning glossy as he looks up at the reader through the blurred blobs that coated his precious blue eyes.
y/n looks concerned as they sink to their knees in front of Leon, their hand slowly creeping to his cheek, he jumps at first before slowly embracing their touch.
“I’m- i’m sso damn sorry aangel- I didn’t rrealise- hhow much i hur-” he’s cut off again, by a kiss. y/n’s soft lips coliding with his rough scarred ones.
y/n pulls back from the kiss, looking at their fiánce, they frown as they shift themself into his lap, allowing him to hold them like a teddy.
“It’s okay, I promise.. i’m sorry for shouting at you and pushing you leo..” y/n mutters, slowly rubbing his cheek with their thumb as he nuzzles into it.
y/n feels Leon’s rapid breathing slow back to normal underneath them, slowly scratching under his chin; they know he likes that.
“mmy Angel.. mm, all mine.” Leon grumbles as he finds it in himself to stand up, holding the readers thighs as he takes them to their shared bedroom.
y/n softly giggles at the older man’s actions, they know at the end of the day he’s really just a man who’s been through a lot of shit and just needs a bit of loving.
“c’mere angel.. i want , hugs..” Leon almost whispers the last part as if it’s a secret, y/n however has gotten used to how he whispers when he needs something he doesn’t want to admit.
y/n smiles as they crawl in front of Leon, feeling the bed shift as he holds their waist, nuzzling his head into their tits.
“mmm.. love your tits angel,” Leon mumbles into y/n’s chest, if he could bury himself into your tits and never have to leave, best believe he would.
A hand slowly makes its way to the blonde mop on top of Leons head, slowly massaging his scalp, hearing a low groan amit from the man beneath them.
“fuuuck angel..” Leon groans as he tries to push himself more inbetween y/n’s cleavage from the amount of pleasure one action brought him.
“shh shh leo, let me give you some lovin..” y/n drawls, smiling as they move both of their hands to massage Leons scalp, enjoying the reactions and sleepiness it draws to their fiánce.
Listening to Leons soft snores after about 30 minutes of the same motion, y/n eventually falls into their own slumber, their fiánce securely nuzzled into their tits.
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Note
WIBTA if I restart an argument with a friend?
🌊⚓ <- so I can search for it.
So, a while ago, a friend was over and we talked. She is from South Germany while I am from North Germany, where we are both living (this'll be important in a sec).
I don't really remember why we were talking about the topic, but we started talking about regional dialects and sayings and then she called Low German* a dialect. Which tldr: big no-no. But I don't think she was being malicious, she just didn't know about the topic at all.
So naturally I explained: "You absolutely cannot call Low German a dialect to peoples faces around here. People will take offense to it. I don't really, because I consider the difference between dialect and language is arbitrary to begin with. But you will provoke incredibly unkind reactions from other people."
Her response was "Yeah but like. Doesn't everyone think their own dialect should be a language."
And... Idk why that one hurt but it did. It just felt incredibly dismissive. And I didn't really know how to respond other than "but this is the one case where it is true" which felt weird so I just. Didn't. We kinda moved on to other topics. But in hindsight, I really wish I hadn't?
Because I wish I had explained it in depth to her so she understands why what she said is considered unacceptable. But also for her own sake, because she will piss people off if she says the same thing to other people. And honestly for my sake so I can make peace with the conversation.
So I'm considering either finding a way to restart the argument/ conversation when we are together or go the cowardly route and send her a couple screenshots explaining the topic. But I also feel like restarting a fight we never really had and really doesn't matter is kind of a dick move.
Additionally I tend to be a person that corrects people when they are wrong and starts discussion way too much. Because in my family academic debates are a love language.** So I tend to reaaaaaally overestimate the amount of debating/ arguing people are comfortable with. They tend to perceive me as being upset with them while I am just having fun hashing out a topic from different angles.
So Tumblr. WIBTA?
Footnotes
* Low German is the regional language of North Germany. The definition of North Germany is actually pretty much "wherever they are speaking Low German". There is some controversy if Low German is a dialect or a language. Which like... People often describe it as closer to Dutch and English than Standard German, it's a recognised language in every state it is spoken in, it is recognized as a regional language in the fucking European Union WHY is it still controversial.
It is also very much an endangered language because in the past decades especially it has been looked down on as being "lower class". No that's not where the name comes from, low german is spoken where the terrain is flat/ low and high/ upper german is spoken where the mountains are. This attitude towards Low German is shifting a lot recently but it is entirely possible it's too late to prevent it from dying out.
** I felt like this part needed some clarification too. I can't count how many dinners in my childhood were spent eating while getting into the meat of whatever topic caught our attention. Politics or science or more spiritual stuff. Ask questions about things we were wondering about. Absolutely tear into each other when we had opposing positions, but concede when we were convinced. Oftentimes I'd get up to grab pen and paper, or demonstrate orbital dynamics with the jam container, a bowl and my plate, or use the butter as an impromptu drawing board.
But that doesn't mean we were fighting in the normal sense even if someone got upset occasionally. It was really just communicating with one another. It was connecting. Exercising our debate skills. Play-fighting but make it academia. It was genuinely fun to us and still is. An alternative outlet for sibling rivalry. There is no need to fight over the TV remote when you can just reason it out together.
So yeah. That's how academic debates can be a love language (and simultaneously absolutely destroy your conception of what is considered arguing).
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fire-lizard-ro · 2 days
Note
Ah yes. I've come to inquire about a certain blond fellow with the pretty eyes. Aventurine
So here's my bit. Reader is going through a break up with Aventurine and then they make up. I'm writing this while attention (females perspective)is playing in my mind. Maybe you could like incorporate it into the ask. Because I'm thinking in a way that the reader is trying to get Aventurines attention whilst keeping him at a distance. Sor of cat and mouse. And he's buying into it though he's much prefer without the sneakiness.
Also I hope this asks finds you in good spirits and a joyful mood. Caio.
Okay, okay- I have no clue what attention is. A song? I’m not good at this game help-
Anyways I will try my best.
Thank you sm for the ask. 🫶
I really do love this twinky little blond man and I’m happy to be writing about him.
It’s like two in the morning rn and I’m rambling here to distract myself from things. ANY!!! WAYS!!!
No gender is mentioned for the reader.
CW: exactly one (1) 2.1 spoiler (Aventurine’s real name- It’s at the very end), break up-make up time, mild angst bc ofc there is it’s Aventurine, hurt/comfort, happy ending hehe 🫶
Writing under the cut (SFW):
You couldn’t help but smile as you saw a certain someone’s nickname flashing across your screen. Right on time.
Though you supposed he knew what you were doing. After all, Aventurine is smart. Even if he didn’t realize it right away, he had to know by now.
You picked up the phone.
“Well hello, stranger. To what do I owe the honor?” It was hard to keep the sly lilt and inflection out of your voice when you knew he was definitely gripping his phone tightly on the other end of the line.
“I’m sure you know, dear. You’re slick but not that slick. You’ll have to do better than that to outplay me,” Aventurine said, his voice still fixed in that unhurried cadence and unbothered tone like usual despite the situation.
You rested your cheek on a hand and leaned back in your seat with a smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. In any case, it’s a bit odd of you to call me. After all, we did break up. You remember that, I’m sure.”
You could practically hear the leather of his gloves crunching (is it crunching I forgot-) as he clenched a fist, keeping hold of his restraint.
The two of you had been dancing around each other like cat and mouse. Though at this point, who was the cat and who was the mouse was anyone’s guess.
Despite having gotten to the point of breaking up, you ended up missing him a lot. And thus you began the dance only to find his hand already waiting for you. It was unspoken that you both wanted the same thing. But every time he drew closer, you’d pull back. A frustrating back and forth that seemed to confuse him. Aventurine was sure you wanted him back. And yet you never let the cat finally catch his prey. Why? He didn’t get it.
“Oh sweetheart- Let’s not keep pretending, yes? I know you’ve been trying to catch my attention. You can’t hide your intentions.”
“Seems it’s working, then.”
It was true. You had been doing things to keep Aventurine’s eyes on you. Despite playing a game of keep away with him with how you’d draw him in and push him away, you didn’t want him looking at anyone else. At the same time, you weren’t sure if you’d truly be willing to get together again. What if the train went off the tracks again? The first time had been rough enough with the two of you waging a passive aggressive war and pointedly ignoring each other at some points.
And thus, this odd little game of yours. One that Aventurine was growing tired of it he had finally called you.
“Let’s talk in person, shall we?” “What-?”
A knock at the door. No fucking way- You opened the door to see your favorite the blond man himself.
“Hiya, darling dearest~”
“Aventurine.”
“No need to be like that. I was serious about that talk.” He then pulled a bouquet of your favorite flowers out from behind his back. “For you,” Aventurine said with that stupid charming smirk of his. You squinted at him for a moment before accepting the flowers with a huff and a faux annoyed, “Fine.”
You were a bit conflicted. You were excited that he was here. Especially because he seemed desperate enough to actually seek you out and talk to you in person. But at the same time this was not something you calculated or expected to happen.
“I know you’re glad to see me. You don’t have to pretend,” he practically purred as you shot a glare over your shoulder, still keeping up appearances. “Oh but of course- I’m absolutely just tickled pink.”
Aventurine chuckled, tipping his head down to look at you over his shades, lids low and eyes practically glowing. “You always did have a way with words, sweetheart.”
He then took off the sunglasses (and oh that was another stupid, dorky little thing about him you found oddly endearing- shades inside a building- stupid silly adorable man-) and plopped down on your couch while you put the flowers down on the counter in the kitchen. You’d deal with them later. For now you had him to deal with. You sat in the chair instead of the couch. He pouted playfully about it, but didn’t comment. “I’ll cut to the chase- I want you back. And I know you want me back, too. I just can’t figure out why you’re leading me closer and then shoving me away. I’m starting to get the feeling you just like my attention. But even so- We both know the truth. So why don’t you just give in, lovely? I know you want to,” he said, surprisingly not using the old song and dance of leading someone around to get the information he wanted. He didn’t talk in circles and didn’t even seem all that flirty despite his words. He was… oddly serious.
“And what about the reason we broke up before?” You didn’t even try to pretend anymore. Aventurine has always been able to see right through you. That ability had clearly not gone anywhere. “I can’t make promises, but we can talk. We’ll work something out. I’ll even compromise on it.” Compromise was not an Aventurine word. Any deals he made were made in his favor without the other person even knowing what they were going to lose. Your incredulity must have been showing on your face more than you thought because he laughed lightly, the sound somehow dry- tired and heavy. “I see that look. I’m serious, baby. I’m sorry I ever let you go. You’re the only one who stayed. The only one who has stuck around. I need you. I’ll give it all to you. My attention, my trust, my… my heart, even. You don’t have to play these games to make me want you.”
Now you feel a bit guilty. But at the same time, elated. Even before you broke up, he never once brought up matters of trust and love. He seemed far too uncomfortable even edging around the topic. But now Aventurine was the first one to bring it up.
You said nothing but silently stood. And his eyes dimmed, waiting for disappointment. But then you walked over and sat next to him, pulling him into a hug. “I missed you, Aven.”
He let out a shaky sigh and wrapped you up in his embrace, arms tight around you.
“Kakavasha.”
“What?”
“You should tell me, ‘I missed you, Kakavasha,’” he (Kakavasha?) said, his voice was shaky with emotion.
“I… I missed you, Kakavasha.”
“And I love you, sweetheart.”
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