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girlrotterr · 1 month ago

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୨୧⠀⠀˙⠀leave without a trace⠀｡ ⠀꒱

artist!ellie x fashion designer!reader Summary: You attend an art exhibition where you unexpectedly lock eyes with your ex-girlfriend, Ellie Williams, whom you haven't seen in years. a/n: omg?! not me becoming consistent?! heavily inspired by "no one noticed" by the marias!!

The gallery is a cathedral of silence, punctuated only by the soft clicking of heels against the polished hardwood floor and the low murmur of voices echoing from every corner. The walls are a crisp, sterile white, meant to let the art breathe. But tonight, they seem oppressive, closing in on you as the weight of old memories seep through the cracks of time. You’re standing in the midst of it all, surrounded by strangers who admire Ellie’s work like they’re deciphering some abstract language.

But to you, it’s not abstract. It’s painfully familiar.

Your eyes drift over the crowd, catching fragments of conversation—chatter about technique, boldness, meaning—but they wash over you like background noise. Your mind is elsewhere, pinned in the past.

College felt like a lifetime ago.

It was chaotic, with you balancing late nights in the sewing lab, surrounded by mannequins and fabric swatches, while Ellie lived in the art studio, her hands constantly covered in charcoal, paint, or ink. There had been nights when you’d find her sprawled on the floor, sketching out her wildest ideas with frenzied energy, and you’d sit beside her, watching her create worlds you could only dream of.

Back then, you both were consumed by your passions and each other. She’d stay up late to help you finish a garment, sewing alongside you even though she hated it, just so she could be near. And you? You’d sit in on her critiques, quietly fuming when anyone dared to criticize her work, even though she could take it, even though she loved the fight. The memory of her smirk when she’d dismantle an argument from one of her professors—god, it still lingers.

But the fire that had burned so bright between you had also scorched everything in its path.

You remember the late-night arguments, when both of you were too stubborn to apologize, too young to realize that passion wasn’t enough to hold everything together. The breakup wasn’t dramatic—no shouting, no tears. Just a slow unraveling, a quiet drifting apart until one day, it was done. She moved on. You moved on. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

The years that followed had been a blur of fashion internships and city lights. You threw yourself into your work, traveling between studios, pouring every ounce of yourself into fabric, stitching your broken pieces into new designs. You hadn’t heard from her since. Not directly, anyway. You’d seen her name float around in the art world, her work gaining traction, and each time, you’d feel a pang of something you couldn’t quite name. Pride? Regret? A mixture of both.

And now, here you are, in her world once again.

Your gaze is drawn to the painting in front of you—a massive, turbulent landscape of violent brushstrokes and bold colors. The reds are fierce, like anger seething just beneath the surface, and the blues are deep, almost suffocating. It’s raw. Emotional. It feels like her. It feels like you. The two of you, tangled in something you couldn’t quite control. You step closer, your breath catching in your throat as you notice the delicate lines etched into the paint—small, subtle marks hidden beneath the chaos. You know those marks. She used to make them with the tip of her palette knife, carving out tiny details that most people wouldn’t notice unless they really looked.

You’re staring so intently at the painting that you almost miss the moment she walks into view.

Ellie.

The air shifts the second she enters your line of sight, like the whole room inhales in unison. Your heart stumbles over itself, beating out of rhythm, as if trying to catch up with the sudden rush of emotions flooding through you. You haven’t seen her in years, but it’s as though no time has passed at all.

She’s changed, but not in ways that feel unfamiliar. Her hair is still short, though it’s more trimed now, less uneven than you remember. She’s wearing that same damn brown jacket, the one she always wore like a second skin, only now it’s more worn, the creases deeper, the edges frayed. Her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows, revealing the tattoo that winds around her forearm— you remember tracing with your fingers in quiet moments. There’s a confidence to her now, a steadiness that wasn’t there before, like she’s found some kind of peace, even if it’s only partial.

But then there’s her eyes. Still that piercing green, sharp enough to cut through glass, or in this case, through the crowd. You watch as she shifts her weight, one foot tapping lightly on the floor, her posture betraying a flicker of unease as she nods absentmindedly to whoever she’s speaking to. Her hands are deep in her pockets, her thumb worrying the edge of the denim, a sign that she’s restless. She used to do that when she didn’t want to be somewhere—when she was lost in thought, in another world entirely.

You know her. You know her so well that it aches.

And then, as if drawn by some invisible string, her gaze lifts, scans the room, and lands on you.

It’s electric. The second your eyes meet, it’s like the ground shifts beneath you. Time folds in on itself, collapsing the years between you into this one fragile moment. You can see the shock in her expression, the way her brows twitch upward, just barely, before her features settle into something more controlled. But there’s no hiding the way her shoulders stiffen, or the slight parting of her lips like she’s forgotten how to breathe for just a second.

You’re both standing still, two statues carved in the midst of a gallery filled with movement, but you may as well be the only people in the room. Her green eyes are locked on yours, and for a moment, you swear you see a flicker of something there—something that mirrors the knot of emotions tightening in your chest.

Recognition. Pain. Something unfinished.

You can feel your pulse in your throat, in your wrists, in the way your fingers tremble as you drop your gaze for just a second. When you look back up, she’s still watching you, her expression unreadable, a mask of calm that you know too well. But underneath it—god, you know there’s so much more. Years of silence. Years of things unsaid.

She doesn't move. And neither do you.

You both just... stand there, holding onto the fragile tension between you like a thread waiting to snap. The air is heavy with what could be—what might’ve been—what still lingers between you like smoke from a fire that never quite burned out.

It’s your sophomore year, late spring. You remember because the air had that soft, electric warmth that made everything feel alive. You were both sitting on the edge of the campus fountain, surrounded by the sound of splashing water, the soft hum of people passing by, and the occasional flutter of birds overhead. Your fashion projects had been spread out between you—loose sketches and fabric samples fluttering in the light breeze—while Ellie’s hands were smeared with charcoal from a half-finished drawing she couldn’t quite get right.

“I don’t get how you do this,” she had muttered, frowning at one of your illustrations. She held it up to the light, squinting as if that would make the delicate lines make more sense. You had laughed, the sound coming out lighter than you’d intended, mostly because of how seriously she was studying your work. Like it was a puzzle she had to solve.

“It’s just fabric,” you’d teased, leaning closer to her to catch a glimpse of her concentrated expression. “You make art out of nothing but feelings—this should be easy for you.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t hide the smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Art out of feelings, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

You watched her for a second longer, your gaze tracing the familiar curve of her jawline, the sharpness of her cheekbones, the way her hair stuck up no matter how much she tried to tame it. There was a smudge of charcoal on her nose that she hadn’t noticed yet. You found yourself leaning in, almost without thinking, using your thumb to wipe it away. The moment your skin touched hers, her body went still—like you’d pressed pause on her every movement.

Her green eyes flicked to yours, and for the first time since you’d met, there was a shift. Something unspoken passed between you, heavy and undeniable, hanging in the air between your breaths. You were close—closer than you usually were. And you could feel the heat radiating off her skin, mixing with the spring warmth, making the space around you feel almost too small.

Ellie cleared her throat, her gaze dropping to your hand still lingering on her face. “You, uh… you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

The words came out before you could stop them. And then the silence stretched out, pulling taut as the world around you blurred and fell away. The distant laughter of students, the splashing water of the fountain—it all melted into the background until the only thing you could focus on was the way Ellie was looking at you.

It wasn’t a stare. It was deeper. Like she was seeing you for the first time, really seeing you.

You didn’t move. Neither of you did. Time slowed, and in that moment, every boundary you’d carefully drawn between friendship and something more started to dissolve. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, your chest tight with anticipation, with something you hadn’t let yourself name before now.

Ellie’s breath hitched, so soft you barely noticed. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that,” she murmured, her voice lower than usual.

“Why not?” Your voice trembled, betraying you.

Her eyes flicked back up to meet yours, and there it was—the thing you’d both been avoiding for months. The truth that had been simmering beneath every shared glance, every brush of hands, every late-night conversation when the rest of the world was asleep and it was just you and her, tangled up in each other’s lives without even realizing how deep it went.

“Because…” she hesitated, biting her lip as if searching for the right words. Her gaze softened, like she was caught in a struggle between fear and wanting. “Because I wouldn’t know how to stop.”

The air left your lungs in a rush, and before you could second-guess yourself, before the doubts and the what-ifs could pull you back, you leaned in.

The kiss was soft, tentative at first. Her lips brushed against yours, the faintest touch, as if she wasn’t sure you were real. But then—god—then she kissed you harder, her hand cupping the back of your neck, pulling you in as though you were the answer to every question she hadn’t known how to ask. Her mouth tasted like spearmint gum and the faintest hint of cigarettes, warm and familiar. You melted into her, your hands gripping the edge of the fountain to keep yourself steady as everything around you spun.

In that kiss, there was no hesitation, no distance. Just the two of you, colliding in a moment that felt like it had been building for a lifetime. Her hands slid up your back, anchoring you to her, and you could feel the slight tremble in her fingers. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Because you were kissing Ellie, and the rest of the world could’ve disappeared, and you wouldn’t have cared.

When you finally pulled back, gasping for air, you kept your forehead pressed against hers. The world had snapped back into focus around you—the chatter of campus life, the rustle of the wind in the trees—but it felt distant, muted, like it wasn’t quite real. Not compared to this.

Ellie’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked at you like you were the only thing she could see. Her breath was still shaky, her lips swollen and flushed. She swallowed, hard, and whispered, “I… I didn’t mean to… I didn’t…”

But you silenced her with a gentle smile, brushing a thumb across her cheek.

“You don’t have to explain.”

Because you both knew what it meant. You both knew that nothing would be the same after this, and you were okay with it. Maybe you were scared. Maybe she was too. But in that moment, wrapped up in the heat of the afternoon sun and the lingering taste of her on your lips, none of that mattered.

All that mattered was her.

The sound of your name pulls you back to the present. It’s bright and full of life, cutting through the thick haze of tension like a ray of sunlight. You turn just in time to see Dina pushing her way through the crowd, a grin spreading across her face as she practically bounces in your direction.

She’s the same as ever—sharp, effortlessly cool, with a wild energy that always made you feel like you were part of something big just by being near her. Her dark hair, tied up in a messy bun, hasn’t changed a bit, though there’s a new edge to her style—bold patterns clashing in a way only she could pull off.

Before you can even get a word out, she’s enveloping you in a tight hug, squeezing you so hard that you let out a laugh, the tension in your chest easing a little. She smells like lavender and cedarwood, familiar and grounding, and for a brief moment, the knot of emotions tangled in your stomach loosens.

“Oh my god, it’s been forever!” Dina practically yells, pulling back just enough to look at you, her eyes sparkling with genuine excitement. “I didn’t even know you were coming tonight! How the hell are you? You look amazing!”

You’re caught off guard by her energy, her enthusiasm wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You smile, shaking your head as you try to gather your thoughts. “I—yeah, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? I wasn’t sure I’d even make it, but, you know”

Dina snorts, rolling her eyes playfully. “Yeah, tell me about it. But seriously, I’m so glad you’re here! You—” she gestures at you with both hands, eyes wide as if she’s sizing you up, “—still killing it with the whole fashion thing, right? I saw your last collection! so damn chic! The textures, the layering—ugh, I wanted to steal every piece.”

You laugh, feeling a flush of pride at her words. “Thanks, Dina. I’m still trying to figure out what’s next, but I’m glad you liked it.”

“Liked it? Girl, I loved it.” Dina leans in closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I mean, between you and Ellie, the two of you were always the most talented people on campus. It’s wild seeing both of you making it big.”

The mention of Ellie’s name sends a ripple of tension down your spine, and suddenly, the room feels a little too warm again. You glance over Dina’s shoulder, and sure enough, Ellie is still standing there, watching the two of you.

Dina follows your gaze, and when she spots Ellie, her face lights up even more. “Oh, shit, you haven’t seen her yet, have you?” Dina’s voice drops to a mischievous whisper, her grin widening. “This is gonna be good.”

Before you can protest, before you can even think of what to say or how to brace yourself, Dina’s already calling out, “Ellie! Hey! Get over here!”

Your heart skips a beat, your pulse quickening as Ellie’s eyes flicker to Dina. For a second, she looks like she might hesitate, like the distance between the two of you is a bridge she’s not sure she wants to cross. But then, with a slow exhale, she starts moving, weaving through the crowd with that effortless stride of hers—confident, but never cocky.

And just like that, she’s standing in front of you.

Up close, the years between you seem even sharper. You can see the slight changes in her face— the way her lips quirk at one corner like she’s fighting a smile but doesn’t want to give in. Her green eyes, though, are as piercing as ever, and when they lock onto yours, you feel that same jolt of electricity you did back in college, the same spark that never really went out.

For a moment, no one says anything. The air is silent with unspoken words, with the history that hangs between you like a thread waiting to snap.

Ellie’s lips part, and she starts with something simple. “Hey.”

Dina, completely oblivious to the tension, claps her hands together with a grin. “Okay, this is weird for me. Two of my favorite people, standing here after all these years—this is like, full circle, right?”

You manage a small smile, though your throat feels tight. “Yeah. Full circle.”

Ellie shifts her weight, glancing at Dina with a wry smile before her gaze slides back to you. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” she says, her voice soft, like she’s trying to keep things light.

You shrug, trying to play it off. “Didn’t expect to be here either.”

But the words feel thin, hollow. Because standing this close to her, with the buzz of the gallery around you and the memories swirling like ghosts in the air, it’s impossible to ignore the truth.

This isn’t just a chance encounter. This is something you’ve both been avoiding for too long.

Dina shifts her weight, a perceptive glint in her eye as she surveys the two of you, the tension thick enough to slice through. She opens her mouth as if to say something—maybe to break the silence, to diffuse the moment—but then she pauses, that playful grin still dancing on her lips.

“Okay, you know what?” she says, clapping her hands together once more. “I just remembered I promised Jesse I’d check on him. He’s probably stuck at the snack table, drowning in mini quiches. So, I’ll be right back!”

Before you can even respond, she’s off, weaving through the crowd with that effortless grace of hers, leaving you and Ellie standing there, caught in a moment that feels suspended in time. The sounds of the gallery fade into the background—the murmur of conversations, the soft clinking of glasses—until it’s just the two of you.

The silence stretches.

Ellie shifts her weight again, her fingers fidgeting at her sides. You can see the thoughts racing behind her eyes, a whirlwind of emotions waiting to be unleashed, but the words seem to stick in her throat.

“So, how’s the show been for you?” you finally ask, trying to fill the space, to ease the tightness that’s creeping in. Your voice sounds a bit steadier than you feel.

Ellie’s gaze softens, and for a moment, the corners of her mouth twitch up into a small, genuine smile. “It’s… good. Better than I expected, honestly.” She glances around, taking in the vibrant colors of her artwork, the way the lights catch the brushstrokes, illuminating the stories behind each piece. “It’s kind of surreal to see it all up here.”

You nod, watching her as she talks. There’s a light in her eyes that flickers with passion.

“Your work is incredible, Ellie.”

She meets your gaze again, and there’s a flicker of something deeper in her expression—gratitude with a hint of vulnerability.

“Thanks,” she says, her voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “I’ve been trying to push myself more lately.”

Your heart swells with her words, and the warmth of the moment wraps around you like a comforting embrace. But then, as if sensing the shift in the air, the gallery begins to swell with new energy. The crowd thickens, laughter and chatter rising, and the once-intimate space starts to feel almost claustrophobic.

Ellie’s expression changes slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features. “I should probably go check in with some of the other guests,” she says, glancing over her shoulder. “Make sure everything’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course,” you reply, though a part of you aches at the thought of her leaving, of this moment slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

But before you can say anything else, she steps back, creating a small distance between you. “It was really good to see you,” she says, the words almost swallowed by the hum of the gallery.

You nod, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. “You too, Ellie..”

It was winter. Cold, biting, the kind of chill that seeped into your bones no matter how many layers you wore. You and Ellie were huddled in her tiny apartment just off campus, the one she’d insisted had “charm” but was really just a glorified box with bad heating. The windows fogged with condensation, and outside, snowflakes drifted lazily down onto the already blanketed streets. Inside, the space was warm and dim, lit by a single lamp in the corner and the flickering glow of a candle Ellie had lit for atmosphere.

But there was no warmth between you that night.

Ellie was pacing. Back and forth, back and forth, her hands running through her hair, tugging at it the way she always did when she was frustrated, on the verge of losing control. Her movements were restless, sharp, filled with an energy that seemed like it would combust if she didn’t do something, say something. She wasn’t looking at you—she hadn’t been able to for the past hour. And you, sitting on the edge of her bed, your hands clasped tightly in your lap, could feel the distance between you growing with every step she took.

“I just… I don’t know how to do this anymore,” she muttered, almost to herself, her voice strained, barely holding together. She stopped pacing for a second, pressing her palms to her forehead, her elbows resting on the back of a chair. “I feel like I’m drowning. Every day, it’s like… like I’m waiting for something to go wrong, and I don’t even know what it is, but I can’t breathe.”

Her words hit you like cold water, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t. You’d been feeling it too, the unraveling, the way everything between you had started to fray at the edges. It wasn’t sudden. It had been slow, creeping in like a shadow you couldn’t outrun. Long nights turned into silent mornings. Conversations that used to be easy, light, now felt like stepping through a minefield. Every fight, every misunderstanding, left scars you hadn’t been able to heal.

But hearing her say it out loud… that made it real.

“Ellie…” Your voice was soft, almost a whisper, like you were afraid of shattering the fragile air between you. “We can fix this. We just need to talk. We always work through things, right?”

She shook her head, her back still turned to you. You could see her shoulders rise and fall as she took a deep breath, as if she was trying to hold it all together. When she finally spoke, her voice was lower, more broken. “Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe we’ve been working through things too much, you know? Like, we keep trying to fix it, but it’s not working.”

You felt your chest tighten, your pulse quickening. The coldness of the room started to creep in, the warmth from the candle and the blankets no longer enough to fight it off. You stood up slowly, your legs shaky, and took a tentative step toward her. “Ellie, please—”

She spun around, and the look in her eyes stopped you in your tracks. They were red, bloodshot, like she hadn’t slept in days. And there was something else there—something raw, something you hadn’t seen before. Desperation, maybe. Or fear.

“I don’t want to keep hurting you,” she said, her voice breaking on the last word. “But that’s all I’ve been doing, isn’t it? Every time we fight, every time I say the wrong thing or don’t say enough… it’s like I’m breaking you apart, piece by piece, and I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being the one who keeps doing this to you.”

Your throat tightened, your eyes stinging with the threat of tears. “You’re not—” you started, but she cut you off, shaking her head again.

“Yes, I am!” Her voice cracked, and suddenly, she wasn’t pacing anymore. She was standing still, facing you, her fists clenched at her sides like she was trying to hold herself together through sheer force of will. “You deserve better than this. Better than… than me.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and final. For a moment, the only sound was the soft hiss of the candle flickering in the corner, the distant rumble of a car passing by outside. You could feel the weight of what she was saying sinking into your skin, settling deep in your bones. She was pulling away, tearing out a piece of herself, a piece of you, and you didn’t know how to stop it.

“Don’t do this,” you whispered, stepping closer, your voice trembling. You reached for her hand, desperate to hold onto something, anything, but she flinched, stepping back just out of reach. “Please, Ellie. We can fix this. We can figure it out, we always do.”

But she was already shaking her head again, her eyes glistening with tears she refused to let fall. “No. I can’t… I can’t keep dragging you down with me. You deserve to be happy, and I don’t think I can give that to you anymore.”

Your heart broke then. It shattered, piece by piece, with every word she spoke. You wanted to scream, to tell her she was wrong, that you could make it work, that love was enough. But deep down, you knew. You’d both been unraveling for months, slipping through each other’s fingers like sand. And no matter how tightly you tried to hold on, it wasn’t enough.

Ellie took a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet, barely audible. “I love you, but I don’t think I’m good for you anymore. And I can’t… I can’t keep pretending like I am.”

You stood there, frozen, as the words echoed in the small space between you. There was nothing left to say. Nothing that could change what was already happening. So, instead, you just nodded, your throat too tight to speak, your heart too heavy to protest.

She watched you for a moment longer, her eyes softening, filled with something that looked like regret, maybe even guilt. Then, without another word, she turned and walked toward the door, leaving you standing there, the candle flickering weakly in the corner.

The sound of the door closing behind her felt like the final nail in the coffin. The room was suddenly too quiet, too cold, too empty.

And you were alone.

The night air cools your skin, but the warmth of the gallery lingers, wrapping around you like a heavy cloak. You take a few steps down the street, trying to steady your breath, trying to shake off the flood of emotions Ellie’s presence stirred up. But as you reach the edge of the block, something pulls you back—an invisible tether, tightening around your heart. You stop, glancing back toward the gallery, the soft glow of the lights spilling out onto the sidewalk, the hum of conversations still echoing in the air.

You’re not ready to leave. Not yet.

With a deep breath, you turn and step back inside, the warmth of the space enveloping you once more. The crowd has shifted, people moving around the artwork like currents in a river, but you’re not drawn to any of them. Instead, you find yourself wandering, letting your feet carry you through the gallery without any clear direction.

The pieces on the walls are beautiful—Ellie’s unmistakable style shines through in every brushstroke, every burst of color. But there’s something else here, something you can’t quite put your finger on. You continue walking, the noise around you dulling to a low murmur as you lose yourself in the art.

And then, you see it.

Tucked away in a corner of the gallery, slightly off the main flow of the exhibition, is a painting that stops you in your tracks. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, everything else falls away—the crowd, the noise, even the memory of Ellie standing just a few feet from you moments ago.

The painting is large, dominating the wall with its raw, unfiltered intimacy. The colors are rich, deep tones of reds and golds and shadows that dance across the canvas like firelight. And in the center, almost hidden in the interplay of light and dark, are two figures—tangled together, their bodies intertwined in a way that leaves no room for doubt. The lines are soft, delicate, but there’s a fierceness to the way the brushstrokes capture the curve of a back, the arch of a neck, the way two sets of hands grip each other as if holding on for dear life.

It’s you and Ellie.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you take a step closer, your pulse quickening with every detail that comes into focus. The figures are not exact replicas, not perfect portraits, but there’s no mistaking it—the shape of your body, the curve of Ellie’s form. The familiarity in the way your hands touch, the way your legs are tangled together, skin on skin, lost in the moment of sex.

Your fingers twitch at your sides, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks as the memories flood back. The night in question comes rushing to the surface—one of those endless nights in college, when the world outside had ceased to matter, and all that existed was the space between you and Ellie. The way her breath had felt against your skin, the soft murmur of her voice in your ear, the way she looked at you like you were the only thing that made sense in a world of chaos.

It’s all there, captured in the brushstrokes. The vulnerability, the connection, the way you’d both been completely unguarded with each other in a way that had felt terrifying and exhilarating all at once. The memory is so visceral, it’s like being pulled back in time, your body remembering the touch of her hands, the feel of her lips against yours.

You stand there, rooted to the spot, your eyes tracing every detail of the painting. It’s beautiful, in a way that makes your chest ache, but it’s also unmistakably private. This moment was yours—yours and Ellie’s—and seeing it laid bare here, for everyone to see, feels almost too intimate, like a secret exposed.

Your breath hitches as your mind races. Did Ellie mean for this to be here? Was it a message? Or just a piece of her past she needed to exorcise, to let out into the world in the only way she knew how?

You take another step closer, your eyes fixated on the way the light plays off the figures—your figure—highlighting the delicate curve of your waist, the way Ellie’s arm wraps around you, pulling you closer. It’s so raw, so unapologetic, and the emotions it stirs up are almost too much to bear.

You stand there, your heart hammering in your chest, you hear the soft creak of footsteps behind you. You know, without turning around, who it is. Ellie’s presence fills the space before she even speaks, the air between you charged with an intensity that has been building all night.

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. You can feel her eyes on the painting, then on you, her silence heavy with meaning. She’s watching your reaction, waiting—maybe even bracing—for what you’ll say, for how you’ll respond. You want to say something, anything, but the words seem lodged in your throat.

Finally, Ellie breaks the silence. Her voice is soft, almost hesitant, but there’s a vulnerability to it that makes your chest tighten. “It’s… from a long time ago,” she says, the words almost a whisper. “I didn’t think anyone would see it and know..”

You swallow hard, still unable to tear your eyes away from the painting. “It’s us,” you say, the words barely audible, but Ellie hears them. You can feel her nod behind you, even though she doesn’t say anything.

Another beat of silence stretches between you, the weight of the past pressing down on you both. And then Ellie speaks again, her voice lower now, more grounded. “I didn’t know how else to… capture it. It was the only way I could make sense of everything.”

You finally turn to look at her, and the sight of her standing there, just inches away, sends a fresh wave of emotions crashing over you. Her face is softer now, the hard edges you saw earlier had smoothed away. Just her, standing there, vulnerable and exposed in a way that mirrors the painting on the wall.

For the first time all night, the space between you feels real. Heavy with everything that’s gone unsaid for years.

You open your mouth to speak, but the words are still out of reach. Instead, all you can do is look at her, your chest tight with the weight of everything this painting has stirred up. There’s a part of you that wants to step closer, to reach out and touch her like you used to, to see if the connection that once burned so brightly between you still lingers in the spaces where your skin meets hers.

But for now, all you can do is stand there, your heart pounding in your chest, the memory of that night—of her —playing over and over in your mind like a song you thought you’d forgotten.

Somehow, you ended up here—Ellie’s apartment. You’re not sure how it happened. Maybe it was the tension in the gallery, the weight of the memories between you, or maybe it was Ellie’s quiet, almost tentative offer: “Do you want to come over for a bit?”

Now, the door closes softly behind you, and you find yourself standing in the small entryway of her apartment, the familiar scent of her space—wood, paint, and that faint earthy musk of hers—hitting you all at once. It’s like stepping back into a life you’d long since tried to leave behind, except everything feels slightly off now, like a song that’s being played just a little too slow.

The silence stretches between you, awkward and thick, as Ellie moves past you into the living room. Her apartment is small, but cozy. Messy in the way an artist’s space always is, with scattered paintbrushes, canvases propped up against the walls, and sketchbooks overflowing with half-finished ideas. It’s not much different from the space she had in college, except this time, the mess feels more intentional—like it’s been lived in, not just occupied.

You hover near the door, unsure of where to put your hands, unsure of where to put yourself. The air between you is charged, but not in the electric way it had been back in the gallery.

Ellie clears her throat, scratching the back of her neck as she moves around the space, avoiding your gaze.

“Uh, you can sit if you want,” she says, motioning vaguely toward the worn, comfortable-looking couch that’s pushed against the far wall. “I’ll grab some drinks.”

You nod, grateful for something to do, even if it’s just sitting down. The cushions sag beneath you, and you can’t help but remember the nights you’d spent like this before, curled up together on whatever hand-me-down couch she had at the time, talking for hours, or sometimes not talking at all. Just being.

But this isn’t like before.

Ellie disappears into the kitchen, and you take the opportunity to look around. There’s an easel in the corner with a half-finished painting—a cityscape this time, vibrant with color and movement. The table next to it is cluttered with tubes of paint, brushes, and crumpled pieces of paper with rough sketches. It’s Ellie’s world, laid out in front of you, and yet you feel like a stranger in it now.

The awkwardness creeps up your spine, settling in the pit of your stomach as you wait, the quiet stretching on and on. You can hear Ellie moving in the kitchen—bottles clinking, the soft sound of the fridge opening and closing. It should feel normal, familiar. But it doesn’t.

After what feels like too long, Ellie finally returns, two bottles of beer in hand. She hands you one without a word, her fingers brushing yours briefly in the exchange. The touch is electric, sending a jolt through you, but it’s gone as quickly as it came.

Ellie sits on the opposite end of the couch, as far from you as the small space allows. She takes a swig of her beer, her gaze flicking to the window instead of meeting yours, her posture stiff and uncertain. You take a drink, too, trying to focus on the bitter taste of the beer instead of the way the room feels too small, too quiet.

The silence stretches again, awkward and heavy, like neither of you knows how to bridge the gap. The weight of the past hangs between you—unspoken, but impossible to ignore. You’re both dancing around it, unwilling to dive in, yet neither of you knows how to avoid it.

“How long have you been working on the pieces for the show?” you ask, desperate to fill the silence with something, anything.

Ellie shrugs, taking another sip of her beer. “A while. A couple of years, I guess.”

You nod, not really sure what to say.

You can feel her eyes on you—intense and heavy.

“I don’t think I ever forgot how it felt.” she blurts out, her voice low and husky.

You swallow hard, your pulse quickening as the weight of her words hits you. You know exactly what she means. The memory of her hands on your body, the heat of her breath against your skin—it all comes rushing back, sharper now, more immediate.

Ellie leans back against the couch, her legs spreading just slightly as she sets her beer down on the floor with a soft thunk. She’s still watching you, the unspoken desire hanging thick in the air between you. It’s a look you recognize all too well—a look that used to drive you wild, that used to make you ache for her touch in a way that felt almost unbearable.

And now, sitting here in her apartment, that same ache is starting to stir inside you again.

“I know it’s been a long time,” she murmurs, her voice soft, “But I’ve been thinking about you. About us. ”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel your body reacting, your skin prickling with heat as the space between you seems to shrink. You can see the way her chest rises and falls with each slow breath, the tension in her body barely restrained. It’s like she’s holding herself back—just barely—but there’s no mistaking the hunger in her eyes, the way her gaze keeps flicking to your lips, your body, like she’s already imagining what it would feel like to close the distance.

You know you should say something, should acknowledge the fire that’s rapidly spreading between you, but you can’t find the words. All you can do is watch as Ellie shifts closer, her movements slow, her eyes never leaving yours.

“I’m not gonna pretend like I don’t want you,” she says, her voice dropping even lower, almost a growl. There’s no hesitation anymore, no awkwardness, just pure, unfiltered desire. “Because I do. I always have.”

The confession hangs in the air, bold and dangerous, and it takes everything in you not to close the gap between you and her right then and there. Your body is already reacting, your pulse racing, your breath coming faster as the tension between you reaches a fever pitch.

Ellie leans in slightly, her face inches from yours, her lips so close you can feel the heat of her breath against your skin. Her hand moves to your thigh, the touch light but deliberate, her fingers pressing against you in a way that sends a jolt of heat straight through your core. It’s a touch that’s both familiar and new, reigniting the fire that had once burned so brightly between you.

“You remember how good it was, don’t you?” she whispers, her lips brushing against your ear, her voice sending shivers down your spine. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Your breath hitches, and you feel your body responding, your skin buzzing with the memory of her touch, the way she used to know exactly how to drive you wild. The pull between you is too strong now, the desire too overwhelming to ignore. You want her—desperately—and you can see the same hunger reflected in her eyes, the way her hand tightens slightly on your thigh, her grip firm.

“Ellie…” you breathe, your voice a whisper, but she hears it. She always hears you.

She moves even closer, her lips brushing against your neck now, the warmth of her breath sending a rush of heat through your body. “Tell me you want this,” she murmurs, her voice rough with desire. “Tell me you want me.”

Your mind is spinning, your heart racing as you feel the full weight of her body leaning into you, her hand sliding further up your thigh, her touch firm. You can barely think straight, the heat between you unbearable now, every nerve in your body on fire as she presses her lips against your neck, soft but insistent.

“I want you..” you whisper, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. And as soon as they leave your lips, Ellie’s restraint shatters.

In an instant, her lips are on yours, the kiss rough and desperate, all the tension and desire that’s been building between you exploding in a surge of heat. Her hands are everywhere—gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, pulling you closer as if she can’t get enough of you. The kiss is hungry, wild, like she’s been starving for you for years, and now that she has you again, she’s not going to let go.

Your body reacts instinctively, your hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer as you lose yourself. It’s overwhelming, intoxicating, the intensity of her touch, the way she knows exactly how to make you melt beneath her.

Ellie pulls you onto her lap, her hands gripping your hips, and you can feel the hardness of her body beneath you, the strength in her arms as she holds you close, her lips never leaving yours. It’s rough, raw, and so intensely familiar, like falling back into a rhythm you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.

Ellie pulls back just enough to catch her breath, her forehead resting against yours, her breathing ragged, her eyes dark and wild with need. “I need you,” she whimpers.

In a rush, your hands find the hem of ellie’s shirt, pulling it up and over her head. You toss it aside without a second thought, your eyes immediately drawn to her bare torso—her tattoo twisting along her arm, her skin flushed with heat. For a moment, you pause, breathless, as you take her in. She’s gorgeous. Strong and lean, every muscle under her skin defined, her freckles scattered across her chest like stars in the night.

Ellie’s breathing is ragged, her chest rising and falling heavily as she watches you, her lips slightly parted, her eyes burning with want. But she doesn’t say a word. Instead, her hands move to your shirt, tugging it up in one swift motion. You lift your arms, letting her pull it over your head before it, too, is discarded in the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Her gaze drops immediately, her eyes sweeping over your body.

There’s something in the way she looks at you—something intense,that makes your skin burn under her. Ellie’s hands rest on your bare waist now, her fingers brushing over your skin as she takes you in.

“Ellie…” you breathe, the sound a mixture of a plea and a gasp, urging her to continue.

“Fuck…” she mutters, almost to herself as she leans back slightly to get a better view. Her hands slide up your sides, fingers trailing over the curve of your breasts, the sensation sending a shiver through your entire body. She looks at you like you’re something to be worshipped, her eyes dark with want, her touch slow, as if she’s savoring every second, every inch of you.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Ellie whispers, she’s taking her time now, her hands exploring every inch of your skin, her fingers brushing over your collarbone, tracing the line of your ribs, before they move back up, cupping your breasts with a gentleness that contrasts the raw hunger in her eyes.

You reach for her, your hands roaming over her body, feeling the strength of her shoulders, the hard lines of muscle beneath her skin. Your hands move lower, exploring the soft dip of her waist, the way her body feels beneath your touch—strong, every muscle tensing under your fingers as you stroke her skin. You let your fingers trace the outline of her abs, feeling the way her body responds to your touch, the way her breath hitches every time your hands move lower.

Ellie's hands grip your hips with an sudden urgency, your slick catches against her cunt, the soft, wet friction sending pulses along your clit. You feel her body respond—every muscle tightening, every breath hitching in anticipation.

Ellie's hands grip your hips with an urgency, your slick catches against her cunt, the soft, wet friction making you pulsate. You can feel her body respond—every muscle tightening, every breath hitching in anticipation.

“n-need to feel you,” she gasps, her voice wavering on the edge of breaking, raw and desperate. The intensity in her eyes makes your heart race, an unquenchable thirst that mirrors your own.

You begin to grind against her, your slick meeting her puffy clit, the sensation making you gasp as the friction builds.

“Oh god, please..” you whimper, a moan escaping your lips.

It’s intoxicating, the way your bodies move together, the way every roll of your hips sends ripples of pleasure through both your pussies.

“Fuck,” ellie breathes, her voice low and filled with a mix of need and awe, her eyes locked onto yours as you move together, a slow, delicious rhythm that feels like it’s been waiting for this moment for years.

“Come here,” she begs, pulling you closer, her grip tightening as you continue to grind against her. The slick sound echos in the air, mingling with the soft moans that slip from your lips. Each sound you makes pulls ellie deeper, melody that makes her crave more.

Ellie shifts beneath you, her body arching in a way that allows you to scissor closer. You can see the way her chest rises and falls, each breath heavy. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, lost in the sensations, and ellie takes the opportunity to lean down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

The sound of her voice makes your pussy pulsate, your eyes snapping open as they lock onto hers. “d-don’t stop,” you breathe, your voice trembling with urgency. “I need m-more.”

“God, you’re s-so fucking good,” she whispers, her voice thick with desire, her gaze locked on yours, as if she’s trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

Ellie’s hands slide down your body, exploring every curve, every contour as she pulls you closer, her fingers digging into your skin, leaving marks that will linger long after this night.

“Ellie...” you breathe, the name falling from your mouth like a prayer. “Please, I need to feel you closer,” you whisper, voice all shaky.

Ellie gives in to the rhythm, moving faster, harder, each thrust sending shudders of pleasure racing through both of you. Your moans come out loud and whiny, mingling with Ellie’s desperate gasps.

“Fuck, yes!” You breathe, your body arching into hers, your hands gripping her arms as she pulls you closer. You can feel the tension building between you, the way your body responds together, every roll of your hips bringing you both closer to cumming.

“Don’t stop!” Ellie lets out a soft cry, her body tensing beneath you as the pleasure washes over her. You feel the way her body responds to yours, and it sends you tumbling over the edge, your own pleasure crashing down, pulling you both into ecstasy.

You collapse against her, breathless and trembling, the world around you fading away as you savor the warmth of her body against yours, the softness of her skin, and the way your bodies still pulse.

You turn your head slightly, your eyes catching a glimpse of the half-finished paintings scattered around her apartment, the abstract strokes, the splashes of color that seem almost chaotic, like her thoughts spilled out onto the canvas. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll be another one of those unfinished things—something she can’t quite complete, something left unresolved, a work in progress that she never intended to finish.

There’s a lump forming in your throat, but you push it down.

You won’t wake up to her. Not tomorrow, not ever. Ellie will go back to her life, and you’ll go back to yours, and this night will fade into the past, becoming another memory, another fragment of what you once had together.

With a quiet sigh, you press a gentle kiss to her shoulder.

#ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie fanfic #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie smut #ellie williams smut #ellie angst #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams au #ellie williams tlou #ellie x you #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie willams x reader

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iliketangerines · 4 months ago

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body worship/praising

a/n: consider this a part 3 to drunk sex. also, thanks to @neteyamsoare and @inlovewithpandora for hosting this event! it was a ton of fun to write for, and i'll have to catch up on reading all of the fics underneath this event!

pairing: tsu'tey x afab!dreamwalker!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), porn with feelings, pussy eating, public sex, praise kink (sort of)

Tsu’tey watches you as you stand proudly next to Jake, his face and body painted in the familiar swirls of white paint that proved he was one with the Omatikaya Clan

he watches as you smile brightly and place a hand on his shoulder, the others quickly joining in to create an interconnected circle of all of them

his hand hesitates above your shoulder, and then he places it down, feeling you stiffen underneath the pressure

your tail curls down low and around your leg in an effort to self-sooth and your ears pin back to your head, but you keep that bright smile on your face as to try and not disrupt the ceremony

what he had done back at the celebration was wrong, he knows it was, but somehow he cannot find the bravery to confront you, to talk to you about how he felt

a great warrior, felled by his own emotions, it was almost embarrassing, but Tsu’tey squashes the feeling and instead gathers the pride of Jake being accepted

he still didn’t like the dreamwalker, even if he had completed his Iknimaya before you, because even if you had none of the physical abilities, you were fully and completely Na’vi in your heart

Tsu’tey had yet to determine whether Jake’s heart truly belongs with the Omatikaya clan

the ceremony ends in a a blur and before he can even reach out to speak to you, you shrug off his shoulder and walk over to Neytiri, your new mentor after that night

you give her a quick greeting, lips moving in a conversation that Tsu’tey cannot hear, but he wants to so desperately, to be near you

but never once do you even spare him a glance, simply walking away in the direction opposite from Tsu’tey

he approaches Neytiri afterwards, congratulating her on how her student had passed the Ikinimaya and that Jake was now finally a warrior

she only gives him a scowl, pushing at his shoulder and telling him to go and make it up to you, that whatever he had done all those weeks ago had affected everything you did

the warrior can only look down in shame, and Tsu’tey says that he knows, that he should apologize to you

Neytiri sighs and says that you’ve gone off to the pali fields, that the animals brought you great comfort and that you needed a little more practice in riding

Tsu’tey nods in thanks and goes off to chase you, weaving through the crowd and into the sounds of the forest as he looks for you by the pali training fields

as he brushes past a large leaf, he finds you riding calmly on one of the pali, gently guiding it in a circle around the field, eyes focused on the path in front of you

you’ve greatly improved since you’ve come here, but he doesn’t ever remember telling you that you had done well, that you were doing better

clearing his throat, he says that you’ve improved, voice echoing in the air

the pali noticeably stiffens before grunting and growing agitated, hooves stomping into the ground and head shaking in irritation

you quickly unmount the pali and break tsaheylu, muttering to him that you didn’t want to talk to him, and you try to brush past him

he reaches out for you, words failing in his mouth as he watches the view of your back slowly disappear into the foliage

calling out for you, he says that he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, that he never meant to hurt you

it gives you pause, your hand holding onto a leaf blocking your path, and your ears flick in interest at his apology

but you don’t turn around, and Tsu’tey takes it as a signal to continues

he walks closer toward you, each step slow and careful as he speaks, saying that he regret that he had left you like that, that he knows he hurt you and that he shouldn’t have done that

slowly you turn around, just as Tsu’tey stops in front of you, and he purses his lips, taking just a moment to think before saying that you were one of them, that he knows of the effort you had put in to learn their ways and the patience you had to deal with his short temper

those past few weeks without you had been torturous, slow, and he missed you, he had missed your smile, your voice, the sound of your footsteps behind him

Tsu’tey drops his head slightly, casting his gaze downward, and he says once more that he’s sorry, if you would forgive him

there’s no answer from you for a second, and he waits, trying to sooth the nervousness raging in his stomach

your voice is like a lullaby, cutting through the noise of the darkening forest, and you say that you forgive him, that you know where he’s coming from, that your people has done a lot of harm to his people

every word you say is slow, careful as you speak in na’vi, and Tsu’tey barely breathes, trying to absorb your every word and sound that you make

he lets out a breath when you finish, closing his eyes and thanking you, that you truly were a pure soul, just as the atokirina had shown

the night he met you flashes in his head, the way you had looked so soft and confused, clinging to yourself, the way that a single atokirina floated down from the sky as the tsahik judged you and landed perfectly in your palms, the way you had stared at it with wide eyes and with a held breath

that night, Tsu’tey should’ve known you were not a demon but just someone who had come from a system that hurt and killed, an unwilling puppet in a destructive system

he breathes out that you are a pure soul, that you were better than he would ever be, and he hears you let out a huff

opening his eyes, he’s met with your slight smile, your freckles glowing in the darkness of the night, and he wants to do nothing more than trace the patterns on your face

his hands slowly come up, and he brings them to cup your face, thumbs rubbing your cheeks up and down as he counts the stars on your skin

you let him, hands coming up to hold onto his wrists, but you don’t move from his grip, letting him do as he liked

his eyes wander your face, drinking in every detail, and his gaze flickers to your lips for just a brief moment before he lets out a quiet whisper that you’re beautiful

your cheeks heat up underneath his palms, and your gaze drops away from his, almost as if you were embarrassed, and you whisper out a quick thanks

silence envelops the two of you, only the sound of your soft breaths and Eywa surrounding the two of you as you two stand there unmoving

Tsu’tey breaks the silence first, asking you if you would let him make it up to you, to make-up that night and to give you what you deserved

your hold on his wrists tighten, but you only lean in closer to him and then let out a small yes

he brings one hand down from your face to hold onto your waist and leans his head forward until his lips brush against yours

it’s soft as he presses forward, lips soft and slow in their movements, but you sigh into the kiss and melt into his touch, hands resting on his shoulders

your kiss is somehow much better than he remembered, sweet, honeyed, all and completely you without the taste of alcohol stinging his tongue

humming into the kiss, he draws you in a little tighter, wishing he could have you all to himself, to never part from you

you let him hold onto you tighter, and Tsu’tey parts from you to just admire you, to stare at your beauty, to just see you

always such a beauty in his arms, gorgeous and beautiful, and he tells you as much, that you’re beautiful, brighter than the stars in the sky and as breathtaking as the views from the clouds

he can feel you warm underneath his touch, the way your lips slightly part, how you pupils slightly dilate at his words

one more time, he leans forward to kiss you, his hands moving to slowly untie your clothing from your body

his hands are careful, just in case you decided to pull away, but you never do, keeping your hands on his shoulders as an anchor to this reality

slowly, your top and your tewng come away from your body, and Tsu’tey parts once more from your sweet lips to drop to his knees and look at you

he kisses at your thighs, eyes focused on you through his hazy vision, and he mumbles into your skin that he could look at you forever, taste you forever

his hands grip onto your thighs as they slightly part for his head, and Tsu’tey groans in delight at the taste of you on his tongue

how he had deprived himself of you, he would never know, but you taste clean, sweeter, better than the fresh waters of eywa’eveng

Tsu’tey groans as his tongue presses into you, tasting every part of you, worshiping every part of you with his mouth

he how wrong was he about you, no one so evil could ever taste like this, no one who would harm others would sound so sweet as you moan and whine into the air

your thighs tremble and twitch underneath his palms, and he thinks that he could die like this, on his knees before you, your softness surrounding his

gripping on tighter to your knees, he presses his face forward to taste you better, to bury his tongue further into your heat, to bring you to your high

you moan into the air, hands digging into his braids, and Tsu’tey only groans at the pressure, fucking his tongue and moaning into your heat

your hips buck against his, clit grinding against the flat of his nose, and you whine out his name, hips rutting against his face as you come

Tsu’tey could be like this for forever, your sweetness on his tongue, your thighs trembling underneath his grip and around his head, your moans filling his ears like the holiest music he could ever hear

grunting into your heat, he ignores the own ache in his pants and brings you through your orgasm, lapping at your pussy and collecting every drop of you

as you come down, he moves his face away and kisses at the inside of your plush thighs, staring up at you until you look down at him

he tells you that you’re so good for him, too good to him, and he rises up to his feet to kiss you once more, your moans filling his body with a pleasure he would never be able to recreate by himself

this time, you part from him first, pressing your forehead against his, hands gripping onto his shoulders, and your hands tug at his tewng cautiously

Tsu’tey hums and says that he wants to do this properly, to not just make this so simple, to have you in every way and not next to the pali

you laugh slightly, saying that he had just tasted you right next to them, and Tsu’tey just lets out a huff of amusement in response, saying that if he wanted to mate with you, that he wanted to feel all of you and this place was…not the most romantic of sights

if he could have his way, he would take you right now, to feel all of you right now, to have all of you right now, but this was not the right place

there’s a soft sigh from you, and then you mumble out an agreement, saying that the two of you near the pali pastures would not be a good story to tell to Neytiri

Tsu’tey looks up at you in amusement, and you roll your eyes and say that he wouldn’t understand before telling him to look away as you redressed

he laughs at that, saying that he had already seen all of you, traced your skin with his lips and his tongue, and you glares at him with those strange brows and hiss at him to look away

turning around, he sighs and crosses his arms, but a small smile plays on his face

you were strange, but you were his strange love, and he wouldn’t change it

#tangerine writes #summersinpandora2024 #avatar 2009 #avatar james cameron #avatar the way of water #atwow #avatar smut #avatar x reader #avatar x y/n #avatar x you #atwow x reader #atwow x you #atwow x y/n #atwow smut #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey x y/n #tsu'tey x you #tsu'tey smut

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ellapurnellmybeloved · 11 months ago

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fluff alphabet |clarisse la rue

author's note: Hi lovelies, please send me requests! I don't know what gave me the confidence to think I can write, probably delusion. Also, this is according to my personal views of Clarisse so don't be mad if it's different from what you've imagined. Leave a comment, I love interacting with people, xx.

warnings: I tried my best to keep it gender/race/cabin neutral for the most part but there are still some feminine coded things here and there. English is not my first language so excuse any grammar mistakes.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Starting off strong because with Clarisse sparring is a must. Although she doesn't like to think there will ever come a time in which she won't be there to protect you, it's still an essential part of life as a half-blood. And who better to train you than the daughter of war herself? And in case the apprentice becomes the master and you happen to beat her or pin her to the ground or even hold your dagger to her neck? Oh boy, she's done for. Actual heart eyes.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

She pretty much loves everything about you, she can't really just choose one aspect. Though, if she had to, she'd probably say she loves you for being supportive, understanding, and patient with her. You understand her better than anyone. That's what made her know you were the one for her. You can control her anger issues and calm her down when she's on the verge of exploding and she thinks that's beautiful.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc?

The art of intimacy or comfort never came easy to Clarisse. Her relationship with her mother isn't the best and hasn't been for a while now and her father is a grade A asshole. Her first instinct when you're feeling down is to fix it, to ask you who or what happened and give them a physical piece of her mind, but that's not always how it works. She'll pull you to her lap and hold you through the night or for as long as you need, wiping your tears and kissing your cheeks. She'll let you vent your heart out. You can tell her anything. Or nothing, if you prefer. She's not the best with words but her actions speak much louder.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

She's never thought that much ahead if she's being honest. Never allowed herself to daydream too much into the future, choosing to live off the present for now. Sometimes, however, she pictures what could be only described as an utopia; to go on such a fantastical quest that the gods can't help but grant the both of you immortality, that way you'd bask in the glory of your love forever and ever.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

On the outside looking in it would seem Clarisse is the dominant one for sure. And in some ways she is; she likes that you can rely on her, she wants to provide for you, yearns to prove herself capable of such. Still, you're the one in charge. Clarisse is completely devoted to you, and your relationship means more to her than anything she's ever felt before. She cherishes it like no other, always at your beck and call.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Clarisse is intense, that much we know. Her anger runs deep and her passion burns red. She's not perfect, and doesn't try to hide it either. She's hot-tempered, arrogant, she's got a short fuse and she holds grudges. Her fatal flaw is pride, which sometimes gets in the way of her good senses, so you'll most likely be the one apologizing first. Despite all that, she can't bear the thought of you being mad at her and absolutely hates fighting with you. It's like it's tearing her apart, especially if you're sad over something she said or did in the heat of the moment. Truth is, she is a fighter at heart so when all is said and done she'll try and make it up to you in some way, somehow.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

She is so appreciative of everything you do and are. As previously stated, Clarisse didn't get much love growing up so any semblance of that is something she clings hard to. She notices everything, every little thing you do for her and the underlying of your words. How you treat her and others is always stored in the back of her mind and she loves to be loved by you.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Clarisse is a very closed off person in general, she doesn't like feeling exposed and being possibly seen as weak. She'll tell you things but there's still some matters you have to pick up on your own and know how to approach them, especially regarding her feelings and personal struggles. She's very honest though, she feels like she owns you that much and appreciates you if you do the same for her. The more your relationship progresses you'll notice being able to read her like an open book because although she does her very best to hide it there's an underlying vulnerability to her behavior in certain moments you'll take proper notice of the more you know her.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Clarisse has definitely become more gentle since you. It still doesn't extend to your friends and family but more so how she behaves around you and knowing she doesn't have to put up that though front all the time. Her sense of self worth has improved as well, especially when you reassure her through her insecurities and doubts (never being the son her father wanted etc.)

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Oh, boy. Clarisse’s jealousy is very fuelled by… Well, anything really. She doesn't necessarily need a motive to go toe to toe with someone, just staring at you for a second longer than she deems them worthy of and she's ready for a fight. It's hard for anyone to get close enough to flirt with you because she's always there, by your side, kind of like a guard dog. But only because she knows how amazing you are and her insecurities do blurry some lines on what's acceptable. She's working on it though.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Clarisse is definitely a good kisser. She doesn't have much experience, if any, but she's a natural. It sounds cheesy but the first time she kisses you was like butterflies and church bells dancing loudly in the wind. The way she cups your face so uncharacteristically soft and how she breaks off the kiss with a series of small pecks only to smile one of her beautiful smiles so close to each other's faces… Magical. It could be at the fireworks on the fourth of July or it could be in your favorite spot in the woods, soaked in lake water during a midnight swim or after a heated argument. No matter how many times Clarisse kisses you, she'll never not feel electricity similar to her spear’s sharp edge digging into her body and soul.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Clarisse does not have a clue what she's doing. I feel like she'd say something in the heat of the moment; either confessing her true feelings or masking them by saying something hurtful she doesn't actually mean. In the latter scenario she'd storm off and berate herself over it but her pride and fear that you'd never look at her again made her put off her apology for some time and let it all sink in to talk to you when she's ready. That is until you start properly ignoring her and she nearly goes crazy with longing, just missing your overall presence and having her stomach turn to knots at the way things were left between you two. That's one of the few times Clarisse sucks it up and reaches for you. The apology is awkward but overwhelmingly honest and she tells you she's an idiot but you're content in forgiving her and giving her a second (actual first) chance.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Again, Clarisse never thought she'd live to see the day she'd actually have a marriage prospect. Her life just doesn't seem complete without you anymore and the moment she realizes that she's done for. It would probably be while you're laying in bed together, your head on her chest while you play with her fingers. Your eyes are heavy with sleep but hers are wide open, thinking. “Will you marry me?” said while staring into the distance and you probably think she's joking except Clarisse is not one to joke about that sort of thing. “Not now. But eventually.” and whether you ask if she's serious or just accept it right away, she'd look at you seriously for a beat and then tackle you into a bear hug, crushing you underneath her. She doesn't see the point in a big wedding, but if that's what you're into, she won't mind.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

She is not immune to babe or baby but would still like to keep some variety. Things like sunshine, gorgeous, angel or others (I'm looking at you, person who created the “mama/s” HC). She does like your name very much, or probably a shortened version of it. Don't expect her to not tease you if any of these make you flustered.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Clarisse likes to think she's good at hiding it when she's absolutely not. As Taylor Swift once said, you can hear it in the silence. Just the way her eyes soften when she's looking at you speaks millions, but people also get whiplash at how fast her mean attitude changes whenever you're around. Her love giving languages are probably acts of service and physical touch. She loves to do things for you, feeling all big and mighty whenever she can make your life just a little easier. Touching is also a must but we'll get to that in a second.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Clarisse is not very comfortable with public displays of affection, because she is afraid of being judged or mocked by others for being weak or soft. She prefers to keep her relationship with you private and intimate, but doesn't mind the little things. She does gloat about being with you as well as showing you off, so that everyone on camp knows you're hers. She brags about you all the time and I mean, seriously, all the time. She's not a big hand holder but she almost over compensates by grabbing at your hips and thighs, throwing an arm over your shoulder or hiding her face in your neck. She especially loves bonfires when you sit on her lap and she can hold firmly onto your waist while she's talking to her siblings or just press her forehead against yours when her social battery is low.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

She's very perceptive. She may not know what has changed right away but she's also persistent so she'll figure it out in an instant. If it's the way you did your hair or something that happened along your day, even if you change your usual greeting. She notices and she'll definitely ask you about it.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Clarisse wants to be loved, that's all she’s ever wanted, and she has so much love to give, therefore I believe she'll do just about anything to make you happy. That includes being an absolute sap. She honestly doesn't mind how cliche it is, if it works on you, you bet she's using it. If anyone cares to say anything remotely negative about you or your relationship she will promptly glare them into oblivion or give them something to really worry about.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

She is your absolute biggest supporter. Especially if you don't believe in yourself, then she's trying even harder for you to see just how well you can do something if you put your mind to it. With something like sword training she is more than willing to help you, rewarding you with kisses and cursing you for distracting her with your pretty face.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Clarisse doesn't mind change, she rolls with it. If you have a certain way of doing things, a routine you like to follow, that's fine by her. If you're unpredictable, even better. She just loves to see what comes next in terms of your relationship, not necessarily needing anything to amplify her love for you. It's already hardwired into her.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

She knows you like the back of her hand. Even the slightest furrow of your eyebrows or tilt of your head and she'll be there in a second asking what's wrong. She does learn to be more empathetic towards your own struggles, which was hard at first because she wasn't sure how to see things from someone else's point of view. Though road but you make it work.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

She doesn't have much to look forward to so Clarisse values her relationship with you very highly, as you are one of the few people who can see past her tough and aggressive exterior and appreciate her softer and more vulnerable side. She is fiercely loyal and protective of you, and would do anything to keep you safe and happy.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

I actually read this one on a Wattpad story a while ago so credit to the original creator but, Clarisse has a teddy bear named Mr. Muscles she's had since she was like, nine and she cherishes it like it's her most prized possession. When she introduced this piece of information to you, you just found her so incredibly adorable you couldn't contain the giggles and she gets so hot in the face she pushes you off her bed and it's honestly one of the most memorable moments in your relationship.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

I headcanon Clarisse as your personal furnace as well as a koala bear so kisses and cuddles are a must, especially if it's cold outside. She loves to take naps with you, it gets to the point where she has trouble sleeping without you (so you give her a vial of your perfume to spray on Mr. Muscles for when you're away).

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Clarisse with you: 🥰

Clarisse without you: 😡

She gets snappier than usual and easily annoyed but she'll also get really sad because she's never had to deal with being away from you. Her siblings try to cheer her up by shoving some kid's head into the toilet but she's so disinterested in anything that does not involve you she just goes about her days training until she can see you again and show off her muscles.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

The answer is yes, one hundred percent. “Touch her and you die” trope goes so hard. Not only that but she would willingly sacrifice the world and herself for you and your relationship. She would go out of her way to make sure you are okay, that you are fed and hydrated and well rested, even messing up her own sleeping schedule in order to take better care of you.

#* ༄ �� effy's works ꒱#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo

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maxislvt · 2 years ago

Note

Thinking about babysitter!reader fucking Wanda in the back of her mini van.

(Also, this is only a fic request if you want it to be! Otherwise, enjoy the imagery😌)

Love your work btw<3

warnings: power bottom!Wanda, service top!r, amab!r, semipublic sex, age gap relationship

thank you for the compliment :) I hope you enjoy this! also shout-out to @wndaswife for inspo. PLEASE GO READ HER POWER BOTTOM WANDA FIC IT'S SOOO GOOD

Though you took pride in being a good role model for all the young children you babysat, you found yourself in a situation that could only be described as scandalous.

Wanda Maximoff, the mother of two wonderful twin boys and a pillar of the community, was pinned beneath you and almost entirely nude in the back of her Honda. The fact it was in the parking lot of an abandoned mall certainly didn't help. It would be a lie to say you didn't see it coming. You and Wanda had truly only been together a few weeks. The increasingly scandalous outfits and jokes at the expense of your virginity were a dead giveaway about how she was feeling. You were shocked it didn't happen sooner.

"Oh, you'd be as red as a tomato if you heard what the other moms around town wanna do to that pretty face of yours."She whispered with the same drawl that got you into this whole mess. It was easier to fall in love with her again than it was to tell her no. The hand stroking down the length of your shaft was relentless. "Especially that little nose of yours." Wanda guided your tip up and down her slit until you were practically shaking. "But you only want your mommy, isn't that right?"

You nodded frantically. "Just you, I promise." Your admission earned you the privilege of burying yourself inside of the warmth of Wanda's cunt, but you hesitated to take advantage of it. "D-don't I need a condom?" You asked foolishly. You were still so careful and nervous about everything. "And isn't it a crime to have sex in public? I'd hate for you to —"

Wanda wrapped one of her legs around your waist and pulled you forward. A low moan fell from her lips as you slid inside of her. "If I wanted you to wear a condom, I would've brought you one." She pulled you in for a kiss just as she started moving her hips against you. "Don't worry about that, okay? Just focus on making me feel good." One of her hands moved down to guide your hips into the pace she wanted. "That's it, nice and slow for mommy."

A low whine escaped your lips. "Mommy, you feel so good." You mumbled out in a daze. Nothing could ever truly compare to the feeling of Wanda's walls sucking you deeper inside of her. The confidence that you had built up weeks in advance meant nothing at that moment. You were nothing more than a pet for your lover to boss around and tease. "You're so warm," You whimpered. An unusual stroke of boldness took over as you began to grope at Wanda's chest. The mound of soft flesh felt heavenly in your hand. You were tempted to lean down and suck on it.

"You can be rough, baby. I want you to hurt me." There was an edge of excitement in her voice. It only grew as you began tugging on her nipples. "Fuck, just like that!" Wanda's moans had become increasingly broke and desperate. "I can feel you twitching baby. Are you gonna cum?" She purposely clenched around you tighter as you shook your head. "Are you sure? Mommy won't be upset if you do."

You clenched your eyes shut and tried focusing on the rhythm. "No Mommy, I can hold it. I promise." You weren't entirely confident in that statement. Your fingers abandoned Wanda's nipples and opted to focus on her clit instead. The bundle of nerves was almost too wet for you to properly stimulate.

Wanda was endeared by your sacrifice and was more than willing to test the stamina she knew you didn't have yet. However, the trunk of her car wasn't the most ideal place to do that. She hooked her ankles together behind your back. Her hips rolled against yours desperate to squeeze every last drop of cum out of you. "I'll tell you when I want you to hold it, but right now mommy wants you to fill her up. Can you do that?"

Of course, you could do that. Rope after rope of your cum painted Wanda's walls until you had nothing to give. Feeling her cunt flutter and gush around your dick was almost too much. You buried your face into Wanda's neck, embarrassed by how much was coming out of you. "I'm sorry, it won't stop," You mumbled weakly. You would've had to pull out at some point, but you started to dread the mess to come actively.

Wanda affectionately rubbed your back and whispered praises in your ear as you shook on top of her. "You did such a good job for Mommy," She coed. Her fingers tangled into your hair and played with it while you slowly caught your breath. "I know it feels good but we still have errands to run, remember?"

The groan you made as you pulled out didn't go unheard, but it was a bit upsetting to have the moment interrupted. You wiped yourself off then got dressed. It wasn't until you finished dressing yourself that you realized Wanda's problem."Are…are you going to the store like that?" Your eyes were immediately drawn to the already ruined panties. "Aren't you worried it'll leak out?"

Wanda shook her head as she climbed out of the van. "If that happens, you'll just have to use that pretty mouth of yours to lick it up."

#panther speaks #anon #panthers drabbles #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff smut #milf!wanda #love her sooo much

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writinginaforrest · 3 months ago

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Yes, I’m Transgender, but I’m not “Trans”

(31st Aug 2024)

When I think about this too much, I always come to the conclusion that I have got some internalised Transphobia. I identify as Male. I use He/Him pronouns. I dress in a way that conforms to the Gendered Norms of my culture. I’m just a guy. When “Trans” is added as a descriptor, not only does that become a thing about me, but it also sets me aside from other men. I’m not a Man, I’m a Trans Man. I’m a pseudo-masculine thing. When people realise I’m Transgender, I feel Castrated. That sounds pretty dang transphobic, doesn’t it.

The way people have expected me to be Trans often Superseded what Transness is to me. I had a lecturer in college who insisted that my depression was, In part, a result of my going home every day to a family who did not know I was Trans. She sat there and looked me in the eyes and I watched myself in the reflection of her eyes becoming an anecdote in real time. I’ll always be her “Trans Student” who did remarkably well in her class before dropping off in his second year when he got a different teacher. For reference, my family may not have known that I am Trans, but It’s very rare that my deadname is used in my home. I’m referred to by my Middle name almost exclusively. Jeff (Jeffrey). And in reality. Transness was not something that was always on my mind and even now, I can be sure that it was not fueling my depression. My Undealt with sexual trauma? That’s a different story. But my being Trans wasn’t it. I didn’t even think about it that much. I still don’t. It’s not something that is an integral part of me. I would be no different If I had been born Cisgender.

And that’s the thing. “Trans” carries a lot of weight to it, doesn’t it? A lot of people really connect to it on a level beyond it being simply a descriptor. It’s a culture, an experience, a mindset, an ideology, and what can I say to those people? Well done? Thank you? I don’t really have much to say, and that’s part of my problem. A lot of Trans artists are, at least partly, inspired by their queer experiences. I’m an artist (I yell into the void) and yet nothing about being Queer inspires art within me. I have nothing to say. My art would be the same if I were Cisgender. If I were Allosexual. I would be the same because I am not these descriptors that have been decided for me based on the way I live my life.

“Trans” has become a commodity that I can’t escape. It’s something I’m supposed to stick on my laptop. It’s something I’m supposed to pin on my wall. It’s a lifestyle. A trait. A Community. A Culture. An Ideology. A Concept. An Abstraction. It’s everything and it’s nothing. I’m supposed to disclose it with pride when I meet new people. I’m supposed to warn Littluns about the dangers of not expressing themselves and being comfortable in their identity when I can’t even deliver on that. I’m supposed to do all these things.

But no one is asking me to.

No one is telling me to be “Trans”.

I’m looking around at all of my Trans brothers and sisters and wondering if that’s behaviour I should emulate because I have a) no frame of reference and b) no connection to Transess as a concept. I feel like I’m doing a disservice to those who feel a connection to it as a concept, when I only see it as an adjective. When I try to remove myself from it as much as possible. And again here comes the internalised Transphobia knocking at my window.

I’m an artist, A filmmaker, and a writer. I’ve never felt compelled to tell Trans stories. Is it because I don’t want to be pigeonholed into this idea of Transness that again, supersedes my own, or is it because I’m ashamed of it? Am I acknowledging that I am more than a Trans artist or am I just not taking pride in the fact that I’m going to have to live with being Trans for the rest of my life? It’s not something that goes away. Trans doesn’t stop. I Will always be Transgender and I have to cope with that because I am male and I was not born that way.

I don’t Identify with Queerness. I don’t identify as Transgender. It is something I am, a thing that I cannot help. I Identify as Male, Transgender was just something that came free in the post. I didn't understand the terms and conditions of it. I'm dyslexic, you expect me to read the fine print?

Where does this end? What’s the accumulation of all of this thinking? I do not know. It doesn’t end. The debate where I am my own interlocutor only ends with more questions that I must ask myself.

#transgender #artists on tumblr #trans artist #lgbtqia #pride #lgbtq artist

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weirdsht · 2 months ago

Text

Disillusioned 19 . It’s Only Responsibility

a/n: omg my fav chapter is finally here. i was so giddy when writing this lol

tags: low-key yandere behavior from Cale, implied torture, if Cale says what he feels is irritability then it's irritability goddammit

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Cale feels as though he can’t get a good grasp on his emotions these days. In particular, he feels as though he feels intense emotions when _____ is thrown into the mix.

Maybe it’s because he feels accountable as he willingly took in the healer.

He doesn’t know when it started, he only noticed he felt that when back at the Gyerre Territory. It was the afternoon after he had destroyed a human trafficker’s house, just before he talked with Antonio. Ron reported that he had finished investigating the Perduellios.

“Young master, this old man took a stroll there and I must say that it’s very filthy. It looks clean from a certain distance but there are rats everywhere once you look closely. No wonder healer-nim grew up with a weak body. Someone like them does not fit that place.”

The redhead didn’t say anything but the servant could tell his listening to every word.

The young master’s eyes don’t lie after all.

And right now those eyes are filled with anger.

Unmeasurable Anger

To the point it made the servant do a double-take.

Despite Cale’s brewing anger he still does everything according to plan. He doesn’t let out a single ounce of that anger until later when his talking to Alberu.

“Your Highness, the future shining sun of the Roan Kingdom. No one is as bright as you. Just seeing your face, even through a communication device, brightens my night and brings me hope for tomorrow.”

“Just tell me what you want. Is it another golden plaque? But you still have some.”

“Not this time your highness.”

Alberu was taken aback at the serious expression on the redhead’s face.

“As you already know, the Perduellios were working with the Chryshis. I trust your highness to handle the Gyerres and the Chryshis. However…”

“You want to handle the Perduellios.”

“We really are alike your highness.”

Alberu already saw this coming so he instantly agreed.

“I’ll allow it on the condition that they must stay in Aunt Tasha’s dungeon. Speaking of Aunt Tasha, she said she also wants a piece.”

“Then I shall be generous enough to share.”

Cale himself isn’t sure how he had the time to meet that bastard family. Between the war against the Indomitable Alliance. Fighting Arm and the Empire, and teaching the nobles a lesson Cale still managed to find free time to visit the Perduellios.

Must be the power of unmeasurable anger.

“Beacrox, Raon prepare to move quietly tonight. We’ll be meeting Tasha.”

The two are confused as to why, but Cale did not explain. He doesn’t need to as they instantly understand after seeing who’s inside the cell they are visiting.

“Young master Cale shouldn’t _____-nim be here?”

Cale looked at Tasha as if she said the most outrageous thing ever. Meanwhile, in the background, Beacrox is preparing his tools as Raon supplies information as to what the healer went through.

“Why would they be here when I’m doing this to relieve stress? I’m here to act trash, that’s not something an unofficial holy maiden should see.”

The next morning Alberu regrets taking a peak before the cell was cleaned up. He doesn’t think he can light up any of his beloved candles for at least a week.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Succeeding that incident, the next time Cale was overtaken by his emotions was after Operation Reflection. Unlike the last time, Cale felt two conflicting emotions this time.

Skyrocketing Pride and Plumeting Disgust

_____ was a core player during the navy battle and that made the redhead proud. Of course, he was also proud of everyone else in their group.

…but perhaps his a bit more proud of the healer.

However, it was only because they had come a long way. As Cale’s responsibility, his proud that the healer is doing better under his guidance.

Nothing more, nothing less.

“Human, those useless noble bastards were also talking bad about our _____ when you left. Some of them even had the nerve to directly yell at them. I wanted to smack them, but you told me to not do anything to those people for now so I didn't."

But then Raon’s report came.

Pride had been washed over by disgust.

Good thing _____ had talked him out of doing anything rash.

“Cale it’s okay. People who only know how to leech off other people are not worth your time.”

Did he mention how proud he is of how far _____ has come? Because he really is.

However, rumours say that it was the night after that when Cale first ‘visited’ the Perduellios.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Cale’s next overwhelming emotion is something his already familiar with. He already felt it back when they were in the Whipper Kingdom.

In fact, he has already associated this feeling with the healer.

Heart Palpitating Distress

But this time it feels more intense. Cale feels as if his heart is going to crawl out of his chest and into his mouth.

Thump!!

The redhead had been acting as though nothing was wrong ever since they finished the battle at Castle Leona. Contrary to his calm exterior, the redhead is a mess on the inside.

A wound, a stab wound with a lot of blood gushing.

Just inches near _____ heart.

And Cale has a strong gut feeling that it was _____’s own doing.

Seeing the copious amount of blood they lost was already bad enough. Seeing the nasty wound itself when they had to change the bandages was worse.

Then as if that isn’t enough to send Cale into a coma, the healer had the audacity to stand up not even 12 hours after their injury.

It was at that moment the commander made a conscious choice of sticking the healer to him like velcro.

+~+~+~+~+~

Nowadays, Cale is not ping-ponging between his emotions like a madman. But he did notice that he tends to feel a particular emotion these days.

Jealo– Irritability

Cale isn’t sure why he feels irritated, but he does. He feels irritated as soon as _____ woke up and started talking to Bud.

What happened during the week he was gone that those two are all friendly now?

And what was that? Bud is going to teach _____ how to drink?

Not on Cale’s watch.

It’s one thing for him if _____ themself wants to try drinking, but he won’t let the healer be coerced by some fool.

“Ron, separate those two as much as possible. That drunkard is nothing but a nuisance to _____.”

For a moment Cale got the chills when he heard Ron chuckle. It doesn’t help that the kids are laughing too. Regardless, it looks like the servant will heed his request so he lets it be.

But his jea– irritability doesn’t end there.

The next victim of Cale’s so-called irritable mood was this poor servant in Mogoru.

When Cale got back to Mogoru he unfortunately had to leave _____ back in the castle. There are too many undercover missions they have to do. And while _____ is much better than Choi Han at undercover missions, that man is a lot of things but an actor is not one of them, Cale isn’t cruel enough to make them take on such a taxing mission after being sick.

So he leaves the healer in the Mogoru Castle with Rosalyn and the others.

“Young master-nim what about assigning a dedicated servant for healer-nim?”

Was Rosalyn’s suggestion after Cale mentioned _____’s tendency to overwork themself.

It seemed like a good idea, therefore they arranged for the healer to have a servant. The servant’s job would consist of making sure the Medicus is eating and resting properly. That servant would also act as _____’s assistant, taking care of whatever the healer needs.

At that time, Cale was satisfied with that plan.

That satisfaction quickly changed when he visited Adin’s room, (well, it’s practically _____ and Cale’s room now) and saw how the healer kept calling the servant’s name. In the beginning, it was fine, Cale didn’t mind it. But then he noticed how _____ seems to call for that servant every 5 sentences they utter.

Honestly? Even Cale knows his acting irrationally this time.

Did he care though? Of course not. Since when did trash care for another person’s feelings?

So he stationed that servant far away.

“Raon make a call in the underground villa. I must talk to Hans”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Ignoring Hannah’s snickering that turned into full-blown laughter, Cale called Hans over to assist the healer.

Because if the healer is going to rely on someone who’s not Cale, then it might as well be one of his people.

This one is a totally logical decision on Cale’s end. It’s not because of his jea– irritability.

It’s definitely just part of him being responsible over _____.

#trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #tcf #lcf #cale henituse #lotcf #totcf #tcf x reader #lotcf x reader #lcf x reader #totcf x reader #manhwa x reader #cale x reader #cale henituse x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x reader #disillusioned . tcf

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lostryu · 1 year ago

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i need gay rights because literally not a single self-proclaimed cis/het 'ally' understands the alienating experience that comes with being the only gay person in the workplace.

i am a gnc butch lesbian. i use he/him pronouns. when i came out to my manager regarding my pronouns (i had been an open lesbian since the moment of my hire), she told me that she supported me, but she could not enforce or ask our clients to use the correct pronouns for me. she told me it was something i would have to learn to deal with. she never uses the correct pronouns for me unless a person from a different department (who also happens to be LGBT+) is present. she is our HR in addition to manager.

none of my coworkers in my department ever remember to use my pronouns. if i remind them, they go over the top with the "im sorry's" and the "im still learning" and "you know i try my hardest's!" and "i swear im not homophobic!", it has been over 6 months since i came out. if i say nothing, they continue to use she/her (unless that other lgbt+ person from the other department is present, then they miraculously get it right).

sometimes they call me 'girl'. they always flounder and correct to "man-boy-uh youknowwhatimeanright". they laugh it off. they never bother to ask what terms i am comfortable with, or if i even cared in the first place. they don't care about my gender, they never bother to ask. somehow the subject gets changed every time i try to tell them, or set a boundary.

once in a while in a slow shift, the conversation will hop to our dating lives. somehow, it always jumps to how men suck and how dating a woman must be so much easier. they wish they could be gay and not straight. every time, they'll stare at me expectantly, like i am an animal at the zoo. no matter what i say, positive or negative, i must be lying. i cannot be that happy in my relationship, or if i have any issues, they must be minor. if i say 'why don't you try dating a girl then' to their remarks, they'll laugh, say something like "there is no way i possibly could" with that special tone of disguised disgust.

i am a prop, at work. they tell me about how much they love their kids. how they could bring anyone home and they wouldn't care. "they could be black, brown, or purple," they'll say "it could be a woman or a man! I support gay rights!" Then they will talk about how hungry they are, and how they will be going to Chick Fil a for the 4th time this week. 'as a treat'. it is thursday. they talk about going to Hobby Lobby again for christmas decorations, or another sale. sometimes i think i can taste blood.

its june. they talk about the pride parade and how excited they are to see the queens and their 'funny costumes'. they talk about how fun it is to go and watch, how they like the free things the corporations hand out. they don't want to bring their younger kids though. they're not old enough. they do not know that the first pride was a riot. they do not know what happened during the AIDS crisis, how many died. they don't really care when i try to tell them, they'd rather focus on the fun parts of the parade. the spectacle.

i wear a pronoun pin, to make it easier. still somehow no one can get my pronouns right. a client notices it. commends me for "being brave" and "coming out." she never uses my correct pronouns. i stopped wearing the pin after the 11th person asked me if my name on my name tag was my real one, and after the 45th person went out of their way to use incorrect pronouns every sentence. my manager, the HR, did not care.

i need gay rights, but somehow everything got resolved when they allowed us to marry in 2015. to our allies, the work is done. somehow i am left more alone than when we started.

#lost.txt #lesbian loneliness #like idk how to describe it but it sure is loneliness and alienation #somewhat of a vent post #like yes we have made it so far #but our 'allies' have grown very complacent #in their own support and ideology #reminder that being gay is still considered spectacle

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devilfic · 1 year ago

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I was wondering if you have any hcs for a jealous Selina Kyle? Thank you!

(gn reader please)

❝jealous!selina kyle❞

pairing: zoe kravitz!selina kyle x gn!reader. cw: best friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, jealousy, possessive selina, she's a little toxica but she's too pretty to be mad at about it, author's taste in women is showing, knives, brief mention of childhood bullying. words: 2.6k.

my god, do I ever

first of all, selina wants you to know that she is NOT the jealous type. how could she be? it wouldn't be... befitting of a woman who likes to stretch her legs and coil her tail ‘round whoever she pleases, whenever she pleases

as an orphan who has owned so little, she has evolved past jealousy, past watching the pretty girls with the happy families buy them everything they want

when she wants something, she takes it. and when it's hers? it's hers

so what's there to be jealous of? she gets everything she wants. and if someone tries to take her things... well. god forbid

you knew this, growing up with selina in the system. she had been in plenty of fights with the sniveling little boys who'd pull her hair and steal what little she could get her hands on

but what little she did have, she shared with you

you always felt a sense of pride at being the exception for selina, the only one she'd let get close

you were practically a part of her, joined at the hip everywhere you went. you didn't need to ask for she'd give you everything if she could

as you both got older, selina got faster

when those same sniveling boys would try to take her things, they'd wake up with pin needles in their boots or bleach in their soap bottles

they'd stopped messing with her pretty quick, but it also put selina in the hot seat with the wardens at the orphanage

by 13, selina was on the streets. she'd threatened you not to follow, told you she'd make a real life for herself, and it took all there was in you not to beg her to stay

but she'd sneak through the gates to see you in the courtyard, hiding and giggling in the tree branches together until the sun set

she'd walk you home from school and you'd share your leftover lunch with her (because it wasn't "worrying" about her if you ate too, it was just two friends shoveling cookies in each other's mouths and laughing all the way home)

by 16, selina was working at bars and nightclubs with fake IDs that promised she was 21

you told her how grown she looked in all that makeup and how she reminded you of those supermodels with their sultry bedroom eyes

and when all was quiet, she would sneak in through your dorm window and climb into bed with you, eyes still caked in glitter and lips still glossy red

and you couldn't help but get a little shy when she would kiss your cheek goodbye before sneaking out at sunrise

by 18, she had secured the keys to her first ever shitty apartment, and hadn't let you spend a day out in the real world before asking you to move in with her

and ever since, you have been selina kyle's one and only roommate

if you didn't count the cats

selina never really made it out of the club scene. she'd bounced from bar to bar and eventually landed at the iceberg lounge, her best-paying gig yet

but it also left you coming home right as she was leaving, only ever having the time to hug each other goodbye before you were forced to eat dinner alone

you'd always hoped that with you helping out on rent, selina could finally get a better job. somewhere sleazy dropheads weren't constantly trying to cop a feel

but she had her reasons, and she promised she’d never bring any of it back home to you

the extent of her nightlife, as far as she let you know, was her one little secret. you knew the lounge was teeming with unseemly types, and whatever happened behind closed doors wasn't exactly legal

and the other stuff—the things she did that covered the other half of her rent?—the less you knew, the better

what she did share were the dates

and selina dated. of COURSE she dated. she’d sometimes come home at 4 in the morning and you’d wake up, a light sleeper when she wasn't around, and she’d kick off her heels and slither into bed behind you and reprimand you for asking about her date when you’ve got to be up for work in 2 hours. but she’d tell you anyway, spinning hilarious webs about the strange people she let spend their dime on her

and you’d nod off in her arms as she sung you dreams of lobster takeout she made her date buy you in the fridge, promising to make you coffee before you headed off to work in the morning

and if you were to ask her the next day about her date, she’d blink and ask, “who?”

it really wasn’t a surprise to you how desired selina was

even in the orphanage, she'd been popular. you yourself had been entranced by her plenty of times before, and selina would tell you a million times how many street rats she'd had to turn down over the years because they got a little too attached

if you asked her if she’d ever commit to anyone tho, she'd just smile, “we both know you're the only one who can pin me down”

you didn't want to admit how often you'd imagined doing just that. and other things

you, on the other hand, have been in a constant struggle to hold down a real relationship

most of your prospective dates were kind, maybe a little awkward

but they also never went anywhere

you blamed it on the nature of gotham, a loveless city that made it hard to hold onto something sweet when the next minute was rarely guaranteed

you never came home from your dates with lobster or funny stories, just snuggling into selina’s open arms and swearing you didn't want to talk about it

you’d asked selina once, a little drunk on sadness, if you’d ever find someone to love you

and she’d taken your chin into her hand, forcing you to look her in the eyes, and told you very seriously, “I love you, and none of these bozos know what they’re missing out on.”

and then, quietly, when you had tucked your head back into her chest to hide the way her words had turned you to jelly, added on, “but I can’t say I hate having you all to myself.”

you hadn’t known then, but she really meant that

selina would continue to go on dates and bring you back gifts—things that were intended for her but she always insisted you have. it had weirded you out wearing the pretty bracelets and rings and more that her one-and-done dates would buy her, even more so when she would insist on you wearing them to work or on nights out on the town

but she always got this proud look in her eye when you would show off her gifts

borderline... hungry, even

god forbid if it was a piece of clothing, some piece she'd bought for you on a poor sap's black card during a shopping spree

she’d drape herself against the couch and command you to walk for her in your little living room, her hand brushing your thigh or waist as you pass her by, her eyes glinting as she would order you to twirl or pose or stand utterly still as her fingers drag up your silhouette to examine… something

or she’d come up behind you while you were washing dishes, her fingers plucking one of the rings she'd given you off the kitchen sink and admiring the little soap suds bubbling on the gem, murmuring something about how she should really get on top of dishes more often

or how she’d kiss your ear after climbing into your shared bed for the night, resting her hand on your hip where her fingers would just brush the waistband of your underwear

honestly, it was really hard to remember she wasn’t your girlfriend sometimes

after one too many internal what-are-we’s, you’d vowed to secure yourself an actual partner

and funnily enough, that was all it took

this date was smart, funny, a good listener, and definitely hadn’t killed anyone before

one uncertain date turned into two shaky dates turned into three hopeful dates turned into a month of steady dating

you could see the surprise in selina’s eye whenever you'd tell her that yes, you were going out again and yes, it was still the same person

but then she’d always wish you good luck, promise to break their knees if they broke your heart, and stand alone as you bolted off to see your new not-quite-something-just-yet

morning chats over coffee about the neighbors or the strays selina let wander in through the fire escape turned into "they're just so sweet" and "I really want you to meet them, selina" and "don't you have work in twenty?"

of course she'd grin and bear it when you talked about them. of course she'd pretend it didn't bother her, even if the cats would scamper away from her caress at the mention of your new... thing

you: and they’re really outdoorsy, they promised to take me on a picnic upstate whenever we got time off from work

selina: I bet you’d love that :) too bad your allergies are so sensitive :)) maybe I should take you on a rooftop picnic one day instead :)))

you're always going on and on about how she should meet them, but she never commits to a solid date

but she does want to know everything about them. not their interests or aspirations, but the things that even you wouldn't know

and although she’d never tell you this and you’d never find out, sometimes when you leave for those dates, she breaks into their place

it started out as a necessary precaution, something she told herself she had to do to protect you

there were sick people out there. selina knew that best

but god, if you found out, she wouldn't hear the end of it

it's that little part of her that she keeps secret from you. for your own good

and this too, snooping around your date's bedroom, was for your own good

checking their passport against a list of gcpd's most wanted was for your own good

staying up for you with her hand flicking their butterfly knife back and forth as you tumble through the front door, giggling and- she realizes then that you're not alone. they're here too

the two of you freeze in the front door where selina watches from the couch

"shoot, selina. I thought you had work tonight?"

she eyes you and your meek expression, then the equally bashful look on your date's face. she adores shy on you, adores it even more when she's the reason why, but them... "got off early. hope I'm not... interrupting"

but selina panics through all her bravado, imagines what would have happened had she not been here. would your date have coaxed you to the bedroom—your bedroom—and laid you down, kissed your neck where selina kissed you when she was feeling playful?

or would they have let you straddle them on the couch where selina sits now, windows wide open because they were just so smug that they were taking you from her so easily-

she clears her throat, shoves that thought away lest it get the better of her, and smiles

you look nervously between your date and selina, then very gently tell them that you'd probably have to rain check the rest of the night. you even insinuate to try their place next time, and selina imagines them kissing you on their sticky futon and... oh god, she's gonna lose it if she isn't careful

your date smiles and nods, shrinks back a little when selina rises abruptly to follow them out, and that's when your date notices the knife in her hand still being flicked between her fingers to the rhythm of her pounding heart

"oh, cool. I have a butterfly knife too! you're pretty handy with that." your date praises, sounding a little... shocked

selina smiles tighter, "yeah? you do?"

your date laughs nervously, "almost exactly the same, actually. I-I got it in college. I'm not as skilled as you, though. that one actually looks a lot like the one I have back at my place. that's such a... funny coincidence."

and it's really too much, but when selina thinks back on this moment, she will never truly forget the look in their eyes when she stabs the blade into the door frame right beside their head

if they weren't a little scared of her before, they were now

selina leans in and lets her hand drop from the hilt, "yeah, funny."

your date doesn't look at the knife, or selina, before wishing you a goodnight and bolting down the hallway

"selina, what the hell was that?"

"nothing! nothing. I was just... playing around. I didn't think they'd piss themselves."

you narrow your eyes at her, "you expect me to believe you didn't know what you were doing?"

"well, if they scare that easily, I'd rather them not be around you anyway"

"selina."

"I mean, come on, pet. I've looked after you since we were kids and you expect me to let just anybody come take you away from me?"

"...selina."

"and I don't care if you've found someone—I couldn't care less, really—but at the very least pick someone with some teeth-"

in her pacing, you catch selina by the wrist and cage her against the kitchen countertop just to force her to look at you, your voice dropping to whisper her name, "selina?"

and she just. cracks

her eyes are wet with frustration and she doesn't want you to see, doesn't want you to see her laid bare so suddenly because she'd always thought.... well, she'd always imagined that this would go a little smoother

dinner over candlelight, rented out restaurant just for the two of you, wine and feeding you expensive sweets and every ruby and emerald and pearl she'd ever bought adorning you. making you shine in her fantasies like a bright light blotting out that nasty little speedbump of a wimp you called your date-

she pushes her lips against yours to stop the spiral, and because you look so pretty that it hurts to look at you for too long and not kiss you

it's quick. a peck, really

she does it to quell the raging storm of desperation in her but when she pulls away and your lip is wet from her kiss, the desperation swells all over again

you look like you're trying to process all those years of friendship, "playful" kisses, touches that you weren't supposed to think twice about

"you... but you... all those dates..."

selina shakes her head, and somehow admitting who she's been every night since she was 13 is a lot less scary compared to her heart bursting in her chest, "did you really think... all those gifts were for me?"

everything did always fit just a little too perfectly on you

you melt into her, dropping your head on her shoulder with the weight of the truth and you feel her laugh and hold you close by the waist

you press your burning face into the crook of her neck, "I never thought... I mean, I'd always kind of hoped that you... that you might feel the same. I'd just assumed I wasn't your type."

you feel her nails glide up your spine, dragging up your neck and causing you to full-body shiver, "baby, you are the type"

"so, the dates weren't real?"

"a few were. not all of them"

"how'd you afford all that stuff, then? penguin can't pay that well"

selina's nails pause in their caressing of your neck

you peel back some, waiting for her reply

gently cupping your throat, selina smiles innocently, "you're into leather, right?"

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @angxlictexrs

#selina kyle x reader #selina kyle headcanons #selina kyle scenarios #selina kyle fluff #selina kyle fic #selina kyle #catwoman x reader #catwoman headcanons #catwoman scenarios #catwoman fluff #catwoman fic #catwoman #dc #mjwrites

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criminally-chill · 1 month ago

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Shadows unveiled

Emily Prentiss x army! OC

This is my first fanfiction so please be nice

———————————

The BAU team was deep into the final stages of tracking down their unsub, a former special forces soldier turned serial killer with ties to international crime syndicates. His movements were precise, his attacks calculated, and the case had taken the team into murky international waters. They needed help—someone who understood how this man operated.

That’s why Emily had called Alex Miller, her wife, to assist. Normally, Alex worked in black ops, still active and often vanishing into missions that took her all over the world. But when Emily had reached out, knowing they were at a dead end, Alex had dropped everything to help. Though their relationship was a secret, their work together had always been seamless, even when no one else knew.

Introduced to the team as a covert operations specialist, Alex had already spent a day helping them narrow down the unsub’s location. Now, the team was ready to move in. For once, Alex wouldn’t just be advising from the sidelines. This time, she was going into the field with them—a rare chance for Emily and Alex to work side by side.

Emily couldn’t help but steal glances at Alex as they loaded up in the SUVs, heading out toward an abandoned military facility where they believed the unsub was holed up. Alex was dressed for combat—black tactical gear that blended perfectly with the rest of the team, her movements so smooth that even her prosthetic leg, the result of a past mission, was hardly noticeable. It was moments like these that Emily was reminded of just how skilled and deadly her wife was, though she also knew the softer side—the side that no one else got to see.

The team moved silently through the facility, their weapons drawn, the tension thick in the air. Alex was up front, alongside Rossi, Reid, and Emily. Despite the weight of the case, there was a strange comfort in having Alex by her side. It wasn’t often they got to work together like this, and Emily could feel her heartbeat steadying in sync with Alex’s presence.

"Got eyes on the target," Alex whispered into her comms, peering around a corner and spotting the unsub just ahead. "He’s armed—military-grade weapons."

Rossi nodded, signaling for the team to spread out and take their positions. As the team began to close in, Alex glanced briefly at Emily, their eyes locking for a split second. It was a silent communication they had perfected over the years. They didn’t need words to understand each other, even in the middle of a takedown.

Alex took point, leading the charge into the room. The unsub, clearly aware that he was being surrounded, turned on them, raising his weapon. Shots rang out, and the team scattered behind cover. Emily’s heart lurched as she watched Alex, her movements precise as she returned fire, keeping the unsub pinned down.

"Stay low!" Alex shouted to the rest of the team as they advanced, using her training to outmaneuver the unsub. Emily and JJ moved in from the left while Rossi and Reid flanked from the right.

Alex was the first to engage the unsub directly, disarming him with a fluid motion that spoke to years of black ops experience. He swung at her wildly, but she blocked his attack with her prosthetic leg, using it to her advantage. She twisted his arm behind his back, forcing him to the ground with a strength that seemed almost effortless.

“Stay down!” she ordered, pressing him to the floor as the rest of the team moved in to cuff him.

Emily couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride watching Alex handle the situation so flawlessly. Her heart was still pounding from the intensity of the takedown, but she knew it would’ve gone far worse if Alex hadn’t been there. The unsub was dangerous, highly trained, and yet Alex had made it look easy.

Once the unsub was secured, the team took a collective breath. The tension in the air started to ease as they realized the threat was neutralized.

“Nice work, Miller,” Rossi said, giving Alex a nod of approval. “You’ve got some serious skills.”

Alex smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” JJ added, half-joking as she secured the suspect.

Alex glanced over at Emily, and though their gazes only held for a moment, the unspoken bond between them was clear. Emily felt the familiar tug in her chest, the knowledge that this incredible woman was hers—and that, for once, they’d be going home together at the end of it all.

Back at the BAU office, the team wrapped up their reports while the unsub was processed for interrogation. Everyone was exhausted, but the sense of accomplishment hung in the air. Emily leaned back in her chair, feeling the familiar buzz of adrenaline start to fade.

Alex appeared at the doorway of her office, arms crossed as she leaned against the frame, her tactical gear now slightly scuffed from the takedown. “Ready to head out?” she asked, her voice low so the others wouldn’t overhear.

Emily glanced around, making sure no one was paying attention, then stood and walked over to her wife. “Absolutely. I’ve been ready for days.”

Alex smiled softly. “Then let’s get out of here.”

As they headed for the exit, they ran into the team in the bullpen, who were making last-minute plans to grab drinks at their usual bar.

“Hey, you guys coming?” JJ asked, throwing a look between Emily and Alex.

“Not tonight,” Emily said, shaking her head with a small smile. “I think I’m going to head home.”

JJ raised an eyebrow, but her smile widened. “Alright. Don’t be stranger Alex”

As Emily and Alex made their way out of the building, Emily couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in a long time. Alex wasn’t disappearing into the night, off to some unknown mission. This time, they were heading home together.

The drive back to their apartment was quiet, the tension from the day slowly unraveling. They didn’t need to fill the silence with words—just being together was enough. When they finally stepped inside their apartment, it felt like the weight of the world lifted off their shoulders.

Alex dropped her keys on the counter and turned to Emily, pulling her into a tight embrace. “We did good today,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to Emily’s forehead.

Emily melted into her touch. “Yeah, we did. But I’m really glad you’re staying home this time.”

Alex smiled, her fingers brushing through Emily’s hair. “I’m home more than you think. I might vanish for missions, but you’re still my home.”

Emily sighed, resting her head against Alex’s shoulder. “I like the sound of that.”

They settled into the couch, Alex’s arm wrapped around Emily as they relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever. The adrenaline from the takedown was finally gone, replaced by a calm sense of contentment. For the first time in a while, they didn’t have to worry about what tomorrow might bring. Alex wasn’t vanishing into another mission, and Emily wasn’t drowning in another case.

They had each other. And for tonight, that was all that mattered.

#emily prentiss #Emily Prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x oc #criminal minds #criminal minds x oc #Emily prentiss x female oc #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x you #Emily prentiss x original character

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moodywyrm · 1 year ago

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moony i have been THINKING about soft dom abby and i think i might explode bc of it. i just know she talks you through it

do you mean ,,, farm hand abby ,,,, because im thinking it ,,, @pinknightsinmymind my brain is being rotted

because farm hand abby is such a soft dom. she knows she's strong and she would never wanna hurt her girl! so she's extra careful during sex.

her grip is always firm but never hard, her hands planted on your hips to pull you back into her. even when she's trying to be so gentle, she sees the bruises she leaves on your hips. she's really sad about them until you tell her how much you like them. then she gets all flustered and needy when she sees them.

speaking of marks, farm abby is a sucker for hickies. she's so gentle with you, leaving them on you when she's trailing down your body, kissing over each mark. while she's still a farmhand, she leaves them in spots only she would have access to, like your inner thighs, your lower tummy, and your tits. she doesn't want her boss – your uncle – to see them, but she can't help but leave pretty little bites on you. you're just too delicious :(

she also loves when you leave marks on her! if you have nails long enough to leave a mark, those scratches are her pride and joy. when she's got you on your back, whining and moaning and soaking her cock, and she feels the sting of your nails on her back? she's going feral, grinding as deep as possible and pushing you over the edge.

soft dom abby my love, she's 100% a praise girl. literally unable to shut up when she's pleasing you. when she's eating you out on the front porch (farmer abby) or behind one of the barns (farmhand abby)? "That's it, you taste so good baby, fucking delicious"

when she's got you pinned under her, taking her strap and pawing at her, eyes rolled back? "look at you fucking taking it, such a good girl f'me, so pretty taking my dick like that"

when you're going down on her, having begged her to let you eat her out after she's been working so hard on the farm? like you're literally on your knees on the front porch, hands gripping her thighs and begging her, until you've got your mouth latched onto her sensitive clit, fingers working against her needy cunt? "sh-shit, feels so good baby - ah - fuck, making me feel so good princess, look so pretty looking up at me like that, gonna make me cum"

soft dom abby when two inherit the farm because your uncle goes to live with your parents, letting y'all take over the business,,,,, omgomgomg

it's like it's your fucking wedding night, she carries you into the house and up to your bedroom, laying you down on the bed and stripping you piece by piece. I wanna write a full thing about this, but it's the most beautiful, gentle, loving sex you've ever had. y'all have been dating for years at this point, but now everything y'all have ever wanted is being realized: y'all have the farm and a house and a stable future together. I'm not kidding when I say she fucks you like it's your wedding night, because it practically is. makes you cum over and over again, letting you recover from each one so you don't get too too overstimulated.

soft dom abby who loves fucking you in the morning. this is absolutely bc I can't stop thinking of the plowing farmhand audio by @jupiter-va,,,,,

abby who sees you come out super early in the morning, hiding something behind your back, and immediately knows you're needy. it's not made any better by the tiny sleep shorts you wear with nothing underneath, and one of her old shirts. it always ends with her bouncing you on her strap, doing all the work while you whine and writhe and paw at her as you two sit on one of the porch chairs.

"darlin', just couldn't help it could ya? didn't I fuck you enough last night? sweet girl just needed to be taken care of, mhm?"

sometimes she's sweet and gentle, but sometimes she just can't control herself. cue her laying you down in the grass and fucking you until you leak all over her strap. or her guiding you down onto your hands and knees before hauling you back onto her cock and laughing at your sweet lil whines, and the hand you use to reach behind and push at her tummy that she just grabs and pins to your lower back before going even harder.

can I just say,,,, soft dom abby with a southern accent ,,,,, drooling. every she says sounds fucking beautiful, and if you're not Southern she Knows her accent has a profound effect on you.

farm abby ,,, her n sevika are taking over my brain,,,, woof

#ladykiller27 #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader smut

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nights-at-crystarium · 5 months ago

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Fragments - episodes 41-46 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

Get comfy and reread with me the finale of the Il Mheg arc and the intro of a certain loser.

First off, I wanna emphasize how important this arc’s for Vivi. Had he not liked Il Mheg in general and Feo Ul in particular, the rest of the story would play out very differently, and not in favor of the sundered. His initial positive impression of the First is pretty much the only thing that saves it.

We've reached a high, physically and emotionally. You know what that means, as per the shb rollercoaster rule :>

Pan pride pixie blesses Thancred, ca. 2024, colorized. I accidentally gave them the pan colors but hey it works. ALSO! Stars in his eyes.

Re: distant nightmare, I’ll let you in on a secret, or a third party perspective if you will. Vivi's full of shit, he's too focused on the big picture. He’s narrating this whole story, but his perspective is, well, just that.

Initially this was Vivi's inner monologue, then I thought that I should just let them talk, and it wrote itself.

More under the cut~

Drawing a buncha vivi-lookalikes that act soooooorta but not really like him, just slightly off, was a surprisingly fun exercise.

Luckily for Thancred, though, he sniffs out the pixie magic, and knows better than indulging them.

...Still, what a shitty fucked up day. Sorry, Thancred :’>

This here’s an example of a moment where I’m uncertain if I’m being too subtle and if this flies over some readers’ heads. He refers to Alisaie’s “job” of dragging Vivi back to msq, which she recently started lowkey dreading (episodes 32-33)

...Though she goes back to her “duty” in episode 43.

She's pointedly SILENT throughout the episode, doing her best to hold back.

Thancred's a man who can say no to begging dogs.

Gridania mention! Vivi’s gridanian! He never speaks ill of the elementals, he's wary of them even a world apart.

This pixie's life is something Feo Ul's willing to sacrifice. Episodes 42-43 tell this story in reverse order, yes this’s the pixie that was supposed to agree with Thancred and go with the Scions to the Crystarium.

As to why there’s a dozen of vivis popping up as a backup: they needed just one fake Vivi to go with the Scions, but try organizing the pixies. Their plan’s already failed when this first pixie-Vivi refused to play their part.

“Yeah no, our guy’s special, but not as special as to explode in confetti”

I love his first ingame appearance in that Varis cutscene, this moment has similar energy: barely enters the stage, instantly gets impaled on a long object. This’s not foreshadowing, no, why would you think that-

The “camera” is perfectly still, there’s even some symmetry, demonstrating how calm and prepared Emet is. He didn’t expect much and he’s still disappointed.

This’s a super old comic. I spent the first half of 2022 testing and trying to find a style for Fragments, back then I had no plans, none, zero, absolutely no interest to give Emet a role bigger than a mention. The earliest version of the script had very few Emet scenes, which, looking back on it, was gonna be a disservice to his character. Well, that changed rapidly in late 2023 when I fell for him so hard that I broke my neck, and now I look back on a lot of what I did with Vivi with new eyes. THE EYEROLL. After spending two years developing a guy for a fun wolgraha chemistry (at the same time I was perfectly aware that Exarch and Emet are foils. I made a foil for Exarch, what on earth did I expect-), I’m going through a mindblow after mindblow as I realize HOW GOOD VIVI IS FOR EMET (and vice versa ofc) and how many things they have in common. This wasn’t always the case, Vivi just gradually got more cynical, tired, ✨grey✨ and everything else that makes a guy consider hitting it with The Other Old Man.

They’re off to a great start.

From Emet’s pov, this must really hurt, as in how many other shards of Azem might’ve snarled at him like this. Even though he must be numb to it by now, who says that there isn’t the tiniest flicker of hope when he approaches yet another not-Azem. He may deny and hate and try to snuff out that spark, but the fatal Soulmate Magnet keeps doing its thing.

Parallels to episode 2.

Apparently, Vivi’s first reaction to encountering his to-be-most-prominent boyfriends is to attack them somehow.

This’s really, REALLY dumb of him, and he even comments on it shortly after. But yes, his isekai tale in the First was rather pleasant just until now, and it lulled him into the false sense of security. OF COURSE there are ascians everywhere, not just on the Source. Vivi just forgor.

Emet tests Vivi's reactions to insults/being treated as a lesser, silliness, flirt.

I regret to inform you that both Vivi and Alisaie have been disarmed so easily. The tone quickly shifts, the weapon’s lowered.

Alisaie makes bad puns/jokes in canon, I thought it'd fit if she laughed at that kinda jokes too, and in the least fitting situations, to top it off. Alphinaud’s disappointed, even if he can hardly be called an expert in humor.

“It’s up to you”. Emet stops fooling around, assuming a more serious tone. He may not respect Vivi or his agency here, but he provides him with a choice that's guaranteed to give him some trust points, and uses "we" for an illusion of unity/equality, a not really subtle nudge towards cooperation, it's not me vs you anymore, it's "us".

Whether Vivi picks up on the manipulation or not remains to be seen, but Emet gets his way here.

Forgive me this lil tangent, but I’m so giddy and excited to write Emet. If Exarch’s decently emotionally intelligent but still obtuse at times, Vivi’s a tier or two above him, he’s not a stranger to manipulation, he registers it being used on him, and doesn’t hesitate to use it too when it suits his fancy. He's quite good at people-ing. Emet, though, Emet’s THE emotional intelligence personified. He’s had literal thousands of years to practice, he leaves everyone else in the dust in this regard. It’s daunting but so exciting to write him, I hope to do him justice.

Let’s just talk.

𝓛𝓮𝓽’𝓼 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴.

Mark this moment, remember this line for meme value. If these last words aren't famous yet, they WILL become that when we see what they talk their way into <w<

Yes I'm going all in on tragic irony of Emet's situation.

Accidental Emet rp, with the hunching over and all. Or maybe Vivi already unwittingly mirrors him. Or maybe he always did- *kicked and dumped in the trash bin*

Man. I'm guilty of enjoying drawing Vivi in genuine distress. He’s so fun when he’s agitated.

Hidden Angst Time! It's all hehe haha until you realize that this might be a product of the hectic wol lifestyle forcing him to speedrun his emotions like this. Either speedrun, or be left with no opportunity to process them at all.

Also, the sandwiches! The framing’s deliberate, they’re on the foreground all the time, and Vivi only notices them in the very last panel.

I! Love! This! Face!!!!!! A rare neutral, relaxed, thoughtful face, he isn't performing for anyone here.

Nevermind Ardbert getting brutally ignored here x’D

The fact that a guy that Vivi had briefly considered as partner material shut himself away in the Crystal Tower for what could be the rest of his life has stuck with Vivi for good. Or should I say for bad. He might not necessarily care about ARRRaha, still it upsets him that he kissed someone who practically killed himself some days later.

I recently talked a lil more about the Bitchless Liar. This’s how Vivi remembers him forever, take it or leave it. But hey, this cool Exarch guy has big balls probably <- in-universe hc \o/

This episode taught me to draw BREAD.

Even though Exarch’s been nothing but sweet so far, one thing’s to acknowledge a fact with your brain, another thing’s to wrestle with your trauma and paranoia that have all rights to exist and fester. Ever since HW Vivi doesn’t accept food and drinks from anyone except the few trusted sources. This isn’t really covered in this episode, but hopefully hinted at just enough.

He takes a leap of faith. Or maybe he’s simply sick and tired of living Like This. Maybe sandwiches kill him, and he doesn’t really mind. And, when they don’t, he goes through a visible shift in attitude towards Exarch, as we’re able to see in the following episodes.

This’s all I’ve got for now, thanks for reading till the end~

#ffxiv #aaaaaa too many characters to tag #i'll just tag the two that matter #vivien rell #emet-selch #emet selch #ffxiv: fragments #fragment ii: new world old friend #fragments talk

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shmaimy · 3 months ago

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Okay, I had a thought a few days ago and have been trying to get it right. But. I think I figured it out. (Don't expect 100% accuracy)

So, Pallas and Athena. Athena bursts out of Zeus' head, and confusion and chaos and Hera, so Athena ends up at Triton's camp/school/military base thing. There, she meets Pallas, Triton's daughter, and as such, is Poseidon's granddaughter. The two become close, very close. I've seen them be close as sisters and be lovers, and I'm not 100% sure what they were, but, I mean, they were Greek...

Nevertheless, Pallas means everything to Athena. Athena grows close with Pallas' family, I mean, her mom lives in her dad's head and said dad kicked her out, so...

Then, tragedy strikes. Pallas dies at Athena's hand. Whether it is a true accident, or Zeus' pride... Athena doesn't know what to think. She is sent away, basically banished by the grieving, who forget that she, too, is grieving a great loss.

Poseidon remains bitter, and continues pushing Athena away. They both remain bitter towards the other for thousands of years, and encourage their children to do so as well.

Put a pin in that.

Remember how there were a bunch of people that were really angry about Annabeth's casting? They were wrong, of course, but hear me out. Leah does look practically opposite to how Annabeth was described in the books. In fact, Walker looks more like Annabeth than Leah does (though, you gotta admit, they are their characters irl too, especially Walker)(also, i think the Annabeth being assumed to not be smart because she was blonde doesn't work as well as institutionalized and the many other types of racism. Athena's "gift/curse/however Annabeth described it" is still at play, so people really need to stop it with the hate towards Leah and Riordan)

ANYWAY I think it would be interesting if they made blondeness/light hair a Poseidon trait, and that's why Athena has avoided it like the plague since Pallas' death: its too painful. Contrastly, Poseidon gives his children light hair in honor of Pallas, as well as to torment Athena.

Specifically, Percy looks basically exactly like Pallas. It would drive this point further if the casting of Athena looks just like Annabeth, too. Thus, when Athena first tells Percy, "I do not approve of your relationship with my daughter," we see so much more than just a spat over Athens (I mean, really, a salt water spring?), we see a romance to last the ages, and a tragedy who's thorns grow ever sharper. Athena is not just being selfish, not wanting a reminder of love lost, but she knows the fierceness of an ocean's love, and would not wish it lost on anyone, especially one of her own. Percy has had a choice thrust upon him: he will be the prophecy child. To the best of everyone's knowledge, Percy will die at 16. Athena will do everything in her power to not hear her daughter cry tears over a child of the sea, not even she knows then so well herself.

(It could also be interesting if Percy looks like a mix of Athena and Pallas (because we know genetics are weird with the Gods), since that would cause extra pain in Athena's heart)(also makes Poseidon extra sad)

(OR Athena makes all her children look like Pallas to honor her. I don't like that one as much)

I also really like an idea I had that it was NOT Poseidon and Athena who invented the chariot, or however that went. Pallas and Athena invented it together, and Athena still uses that first chariot to this day.

Also, it could add some nuance to the Mark of Athena. When the Romans stole Athena, they erased Pallas from her story. Minerva looks like Pallas, and her love for Pallas is gone. She is not just searching for herself, she is searching for the string so interwoven with her own they are the same: she is searching for the soulmate erased from her story.

ALSO, or would be interesting to see this dynamic play out in the 4th book, when Percy is thought to be dead.

I want this to be released as a short film (I would be a great Pallas???? Think about it???? Am I selfish to think that??? Ambitious??? Yes???? What's your point?????????)

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percabeth #percy and annabeth #mark of athena #athena #poseidon #triton #pallas #pallas athena #rick riordan #rick riordan please notice meeeeeeeee #shower thoughts #i would be a great pallas please

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liliadrawingstuff · 29 days ago

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Please take this Post with satire. I am just ascendingly screaming over the Faba Bio Leak. I waited for this moment to happen and actually gave it up but damn. I WASNT READY FOR THIS AHAHAHA

SMALL DISCLAIMER: I want to clarify. I see those leaked things not as canon. Just as his base idea that they changed through development. But. I am just going to act like as If this would be canon in this post.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BLACK OR BLONDE HAIR. BLACK HAIR FABA WAS AN OPTION?

ey he is 165 cm... That's. THATS LITERALLY THE EXACT HEIGHT I THOUGHT OF HIM AS LMAOOOOOOO. WHATTTTTTT look at my pinned post for proof 🫵🏻 SMALL LITTLE GUYYYY AAAGHHH.

53 years old pretty much fits. I headcanoned him as mid 40's to begin 50's so hell yeah!! Old man!!

But. One question is.

WHO IS YOUR WIFE AND CHILD. 🫵🏻 WHO IS YOUR WIFE AND CHILD. WHY ARE YOU MARRIED. (I would love to meet them. Maybe.) WHOOOOOOO!!!!! THOOOOO!! WHO WOULD MARRY YOU???? (ahum...yea) I have to headcanon that his concept wife is either just as toxic as him or a poor woman he treats badly. Well I prefer the first hc in that case.

SPEAKING OF TREATING WOMEN BADLY!! THIS DANG ASS MISOGYNIST. PAHAHA. I love how they clarify "opposite Sex" but not same sex? Is this guy a misogynistic closeted gay?? He can have fights with the 1 or 2 misandrist Lesbians on Xitter and get obliterated.

I love that they went with arrested and fired for his ending. He can join Team Plasma in the Anime Jail. (So that's how he met Colress!! okno) but I think it's very cute that in the end they all gave him a second chance in most medias. (Besides the Manga...I guess ahum ahum)

Germanic descent? Still vibe with him as French/Kalosian more but him shouting angrily in German would be SOMETHING. I can see that now so much.... Maybe he is French German after all who knows. Kinda fits. (also my pride of being German just highered itself by 0.0001 %). German region when where we meet Fabas Wife and traumatized Child with awful parents.

The fact he is described super kind to Lusamine is actually very fun. Just sliming himself up the career ladder. I have urges to slap him real bad because all of this //affec

"But thanks to the Aether Foundation he gets great powerful pokemon" IF THAT WOULD BE CANON THEY ONLY GAVE HIM A HYPNO WHAT DO YOU MEAN. And lend him more pokemon afterwards so he can battle you as champion? Would be funny. But yeah. I stand with the HC that all of his mons all have a special reason to be in his team and why he is with them.

But the "his hobby is sexual harassment" cought me so off guard. I can't help but laugh about it. It sounds so bad. The bad wording probably kills me. FABA PLEASE. FOR THINKING USE YOUR BRAIN!! NOT SMTH ELSE. YOU DICKHEAD.

Also it was planned that he gets a watch.... Guy had to show off his rich kid watch surely to impress others.

God damn I want to hit him so hard //affec

I wanna draw a bit related to the leaks as a joke and then come back to answer messages and look what horrors yall think of this ajehdbka

Xenley is preparing her fists because she will be allowed to beat him up.

Lilac is gonna get the first aid and tells him everything will be fine and that this is just a nightmare.

#branch chief faba #faba pokemon #aRRRRGH

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mxdarling · 5 months ago

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[inside the closet, it's full of rainbows]

or how the astral express crew react to you coming out to them.

found family astral express, ooc astral express crew, fluff post, lowercase, definitely rushed, platonic, not proofread, 1.8k wc, reader could be trailblazer or not, spoiler free, reader's gender/sexuality is left ambiguous.

[a/n; soooo... pride month, yes, it's gay mfs, i initially wanted to get this out earlier but uh- i forgot to write it??? so um- i'm very sorry!! this might be like a whole month late? but it's never too late to say happy pride month!! <33 also repost bcs IT AIN'T SHOWING UP IN THE TAGS???]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :March 7th;

➮ okay hear me out, her first reaction is either gonna be "WHAT!?" or "HAHA I KNEW IT!!"

➮ because if you're super lowkey about your sexuality/gender then she probably never even thought of the possibility of you being part of the skittle squad like- she's literally mouth gaping bcs SHE HAD ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA THAT YOU WEREN'T STRAIGHT/CISGENDER???

➮ she probably got the vibe that maybe you weren't straight/cisgender?? like maybe the way you dress or the way you act to certain gender/sex that gave her the idea but she didn't wanna assume nor did you say anything to confirm or deny her thoughts so she kinda just dropped it but she still held some curiosity but just didn't act upon it y'know- pretty girls respect privacy!!

➮ ORR if you're less secretive about your gender/sexuality, wearing pride pins, your flag colors, saying jokes implying your gender/sexuality, your romantic/lack of interests towards a certain gender/multiple genders/anything romantic or sexual, etc. without ever really saying it directly then she probably got the hint (or multiple OBVIOUS hints to be exact) so when you finally confirmed it she reacts like she knew from the very beginning (like a detective having their suspicions on a person proven true, it's cute loll)

➮ now honestly speaking, no matter what gender/sexuality she's gonna be so so supportive you!! doing everything she can to make you comfortable in expressing yourself around her and the astral express! she also asks you questions about your gender/sexuality which might leave you overwhelmed if she bombers you with them but she'll back off if you verbally/clearly express signs of discomfort

➮ IF EVER you need help with clothes, like wanting to be comfortable but also stylish, finding what style suits your appearance the best, what accessories to buy, finding clothes your size, etc. your girl march has got your back!! she can't be a pretty girl without a sense of fashion!! you bet you two are gonna have the best photoshoot of your life, march gets all your best angles, not a single one is a bad photo and if you're feeling camera shy she joins in the photoshoot with you!! matching clothes is a must so you two can be cute together!!

➮ she's totally gonna drag you to most, if not all, her shopping sprees!! i'm sorry if you aren't one to go to clothes shopping often but she cannot have you miss this opportunity to try on clothes with her!! she promises you to make it worth your while (or she just begs and begs until your eventually agree LOLL)

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :Dan Heng;

➮ this guys is either a low "i knew that" or a moment of silence before speaking up, "yeah that makes sense"

➮ LIKEE he probably had an inkling feeling that you were a little fruity, like a scratching gut feeling that you weren't straight/cisgender just didn't say anything, he knows that if you wanted him to know you would've said something so he waited for you to tell him yourself to not pressure you into doing something you weren't comfortable. he understands things such as these are private matters, if you don't wanna share it then it's fine—if you do then it won't change how he views and treats you as a friend! he's does feel a little bit happy that you trust him with this information (he's very much happy loll)

➮ he's definitely a lot more perceptive than march so he's more likely to pick up behavior habits or hints that would probably be "normal" in other people's eyes, like i said he says nothing about this to you or anyone, he kinda just- remembers them??? like its stored in his head in case he'll bring it up in the future for unknown reasons cause like march he doesn't wanna assume or jump to conclusions about you sooo he brushes off his curiosity until he sort of buries it deep down??? idk its hard to read the guy okay

➮ there were probably moments wherein you did something that made dan heng raise an eyebrow like this emoji "🤨" EXCEPT its more stoic and less obvious that your action made him A LITTLE suspicious... for the first few times he doesn't think about it too much because those could be coincidences or accidents, everyone has those moments (right? right??? yeah.) but if those "coincidences" and "accidents" happen a bit more often than his gayradar goes off brr

➮ he's very much supportive just not as loud as march is, he does basically everything march does but in a more subtle manner like he's researching all night about your gender/sexuality to make sure he doesn't say anything insensitive or make a wrong assumption about your gender/sexuality, reading materials that contain your gender/sexuality so he can understand how you feel better, etc. he also asks you some of his questions directly but he doesn't really wanna bother you or come off as 'too much' so he got most of his knowledge from other sources

➮ he may be quiet about his support but do not doubt that this man will defend you to hell and back if someone were to ever ever disrespect you and your boundaries, he will fight back and he will not go easy on said person or people, he MIGHT hold back if you tell him very nicely, might okay he doesn't take lightly to those that insult people who are dear to him, no way will he remain a bystander to the sight of people stepping over you like some doormat!!

➮ he doesn't do it often but he'll gift you trinkets that are the colors of your flag, like maybe not exactly the colors but he tries to find the closest one that resembles your colors flag y'know, plus he's not really good with words so this is one of the ways of showing that he loves you and you're important to him no matter what <33

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :Himeko;

➮ honestly i feel like it's just one reaction, and it's just a soft smile and a expression that screams "i'm glad you were comfortable enough to tell me" LIKE IT'S SO SOFT AND CARING OMGGHDJHSH

➮ sorry guys himeko is just so sweet, caring, understanding, patient, emotional available i feel like she's the one you told way before anyone else because of how comfortable you are with her. SHE'S LITERALLY PERFECT WHAT ELSE CAN I SAY-

➮ i feel as though she doesn't put much thought into your personal matters because she knows that there are things that don't need to be said at all and she understands that, she won't force nor rush anything, she'll let you pick your pace, take your time, and choose when you wanna be vulnerable with her and/or the crew. she also doesn't make any bold assumptions about your gender/sexuality on her end because that's not what defines you, rather she gives her thoughts on what she DOES know about you—as a person, as a nameless, as someone dear to her.

➮ supportive mother all the way!! she does whatever makes you comfortable, like she slowly eases you in how you want to express yourself and how you feel about yourself, how you want to be address, it's just a very slow but caring process with himeko <33

➮ she feels like the type of person you'd gossip with, himeko and her black bitter coffee, you and your (favorite drink), maybe not exactly gossip but you'd tell her about certain incidents surrounding your gender/sexuality (like how you'd tell your friend/s about a new crush you developed, how the new outfit you’ve discovered makes you feel more confident, etc. etc.) like idk how to explain it but you guys see the vision?? you yapping about something and himeko just peacefully listening despite not talking much, idk i find it very sweet <33 she's definitely the type to make you your favorite food and drink if you happen to be in a bad mood because of someone else :((

➮ while she might not fully understand what it's like in your shoes, she can try to sympathize with you and be the shoulder to cry on when you feel overwhelmed with your emotions or need to let those feelings out so they don't eat you up from the inside. sometimes just being by each other's side is enough of comfort, no words are needed, just the presence and the knowledge that someone is there for you at your lowest.

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :Welt Yang;

➮ dude feels like a old man, i'm sorry i feel like he's the one that's not the most knowledgeable about lgbtq+?? like he knows about it, he doesn't know a lot about it you get what i mean? like he'll look at you a little confused on what you said but still is accepting just needs time for you to explain to him what exactly is your gender/sexuality, he's trying he swears!!

➮ he's the clueless one, i'm not just saying this because he's an old man and stuff but i feel like he's mind is always either on the safety of the crew, the next location, or the current trailblaze mission, if he DOES have the time to not think about those things it's probably to reminisce about the past or something y'know? so he's the one that had absolutely NO IDEA you weren't straight/cisgender!!???

➮ he'll still ask questions about your gender/sexuality just to make sure he hasn't gotten anything wrong or assumed something bad about your gender/sexuality, his approach to gaining more information is kind of like a mix of march and dan heng where he'll ask questions to you and search for sources on his own.

➮ honestly idk what else to add but the fact he's definitely trying his best loll, he's still getting used to addressing you the way you wanted to be address, or he's still surprised by the way you dress yourself up but don't take any of it negative—it's just the change will catch him off guard but nevertheless supports these changes!! if it makes you comfortable and more yourself than do it! if it's not hurting you in any way, why should he stop and ruin your fun?

➮ like himeko, he'll be the listener to your yapping, might have a harder time keeping up with what you're saying sometimes if you're the type to talk really fast or jump from topic to topic but he'll still listen. he'll even surprise you by remembering the stuff you've said, even if you just mentioned it once, he still remembered it.

➮ he tries his best to give the best advice you need in your current situation, he tries not to sugarcoat his words and be as honest as he possibly can—though he can't guarantee he won't hurt your feelings, sometimes advice are words you NEED to hear and not what you WANT to hear.

PLEASE DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO OTHER SITES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION + REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader

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