#and how this particular them's relationship progresses
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ginpotts · 3 days ago
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DOCTOR WHO: THE NINTH DOCTOR ADVENTURES Big Finish Presents ✧ STAR-CROSSED ✧ 2024
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trans-seraphim · 2 years ago
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if i see one more person in this tag mention that hunter and willow is a "straight-passing relationship" when talking about their bi and pansexuality, i will come to your house and remove all the doors from your cabinets
edit: y'all i like the fucking ship, i am complaining about people saying "straight-passing" like that's an appropriate term to use when discussing representation
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thats-a-lot-of-cortisol · 1 year ago
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2 & 3 from section 1 for peri and 7 from whichever section has a more interesting #7 for diodore -moss
oooh these are fun ones!
2. Describe their tent set-up (outside and inside) (Peri)
I think Peri's tent is constructed similarly to Gale and Astarion's (boxy, fabric walls, little covered area outside). Deep blue fabric w/ golden astronomical embroidery, mostly the sort of thing you see on star maps. Little golden tassles around the edges of the tarp (?) and the doorframe. He'd have a small, circular, dark wood side table short enough that you can use it sitting on the ground, and a dark blue pillow next to it; there would be some parchment and a bronze miniature astrolabe on the table. The inside would be just. full to the brim with the gaudiest night-sky-themed pillows you've ever seen. No bedroll, no palette, just a nest that would put those cube pits in trampoline parks to shame. There would be two bird perches for his familiar Medani: one taller one next to his tent and one shorter one under the overhang. The shorter one would have a crow-sized bow-tie hanging from it. Rugs on rugs on the outside area ofc. 3. What would their character quest be titled? Why? (Peri)
This is a hard one! His tav ending involves taking over the Waterdeep arm of the Harpers, so I think his arc would have something to do with that. He'd be pretty bitter about being dropped into another near-apocalyptic mess when dealing with the last one a few years prior was supposed to be a one-time thing. Something-something ptsd in a world that doesn't have the words for that yet, something-something 'once a hero always a hero', something-something the weight of responsibility...he's a planeswalker so I think part of it would be whether he decides to stay on Toril long-term and directly help rebuild the Waterdeep Harpers or if he continues to run travel around afterwards, so maybe The Far Traveller/The Far Walker?
Harpson/Fae-son are also potential options. "Fae-son" nods to him being a changeling without it being super obvious (like Astarion's "The Pale Elf"). It would also mimic his backstory reveals from RoT ("oh he's not 'from here' so, like, the Feywild" -> "OH he's not from here"). 7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one? (Diodore)
Buckle up because we're in for a long one here. I've thought about Dora's story arc a lot because she's the first of my tavs that I truly made for the game while having full control over her backstory, etc. (versus Corentin, who had their arc baked into the story as a durge). Dora's a paladin of Corellon (oath of ancients) and her story arc as a companion would have to do with whether or not she should accept capital-r-Redemption, the process by which a drow can be truly "freed" from Lolth and rejoin the ranks of the rest of elven society. It involves all of the Redeemed drow's memories being erased and them being reincarnated as a surface elf. The implication seems to be that without that, regardless of a drow's actions, they'd be thrown back to Lolth when they die? Or at least that their eternal fate is unknown (which is the way I prefer to think of it for. personal reasons). Under normal circumstances, Dora would be a long way from Redemption being presented to her at all (she's not even 200 yet and has only been on the surface for a couple decades), but like with the other gods' Chosen among the companions, near-apocalyptic circumstances tend to speed up those sorts of things.
Of course, you'd have the themes of faith & relationship with deity when they're all unequivocally real and are also mostly all assholes; maintaining or breaking generational cycles; facing the unknown; morality when none of your choices are "good" (and how that interacts with morality vs self preservation); power vs freedom; identity outside of the people who made you; etc. The choice would first be presented to her sometime in late Act I/early Act II, likely the first long rest after the group resurfaces from the Underdark and you've probably gotten some of her backstory already. I have no idea how Larian would have characterized Corellon, but he's considered one of the more benevolent/open-minded deities iirc, which could be interesting to see contrasted with Mystra, Vlaa'kith, and Shar. How much that open-mindedness would extend to a drow, even one who has been a faithful follower even before she escaped to the Surface (and who inherited that faith from her father), is unclear. At the beginning of the game she would be leaning towards accepting Redemption, despite her own misgivings about whether or not she would still be her in that case.
Her final decision (at the ending pier scene) would depend on the relationship she has with the PC and the other companions. Her best ending, imo, would be her not accepting Redemption but continuing to be a force for good. If she has a good relationship with the PC, she would have something to lose. I think seeing the House of Mourning would affect her too. After all, the thing Corellon is offering to her as a way to find peace is the same thing the Sharrans are using as a way to manipulate and control others.
She's viscerally aware of how she was socialized and very actively chooses "good", so pushing her towards a darker path would be incredibly difficult but not impossible. If you side with the goblins she'll leave immediately, and turn on you if she's in your party when you attack the grove. But if you decide to try and control the cult in Act II, depending on your over-all actions before then and how you've interacted with her, you could disillusion her to the point of convincing her to break her oath. That path would entail convincing her that controlling the cult is actually the best idea. I'm sure there would be other times that her oath could break that wouldn't necessarily lock her into an "evil" path, especially with how Oathbreakers are handled in the game. Knocking out Minthara instead of killing her outright and letting Auntie Ethel go in Act I instead of killing her are two things that come to mind.
If she doesn't choose Redemption she would be at the epilogue party, of course. I'm a bit undecided on what would happen if she does choose Redemption. She may not be there at all, w/ Jaheira, Halsin, Minthara, and/or Astarion mentioning running into her in her new, reincarnated state. Or she would be there, confused, and mention how the PC seems familiar in a way she can't quite place. In that case, she would ask them how they know each other and mention something about feeling a twinge of grief looking at everyone, but that she doesn't know why she feels that way. It would be up to the PC how much they tell her (if they tell her anything at all).
#ty for the ask mossy!!#and sorry for the wait lol a couple of these stumped me for a minute#thinking about peri & jaheira as narrative parallels...#b/c i want to be clear here. peri was and is *not* looking for more responsibility re: harpers#he was perfectly happy doing security systems. him not seeking power was an active character choice i made for him b/c he's a wizard#but in the Faerun In My Head (tm) the Waterdeep Harpers also get decimated by the Absolute b/c why would they not? theyd be a major threat#especially b/c their high harper was the catalyst for forming the lord's alliance and. like. you think they're *not* reconvening?#for Weird Cult Two: 2 Cult 2 Furious??#gortash would take remallia OUT if at all possible#and also I like torturing my characters#and i think the whole 'weight of duty'/hero's curse (once you get drawn into one situation you can't ignore the others/they come to you)#thing is interesting for peri in particular. the man just wants to live a quiet life and he will! for the most part.#just now with thousands of lives in his hands b/c he's helped stop 2 apocalypses and is irrevocably tied to the fate of the Coast now#his conscious wouldn't let him just leave the Harpers or Waterdeep to rot. and that seems to be similar to the situation jaheira's in#generational cycles the cruel march of time history repeats itself etc etc#that's also why i think he would get Weave'd and have an unusually long lifespan. he wanted to rest and the universe said “no <3”#i think about dora's story a lot also because the whole 'you can be redeemed (from something you were born with)#but only by removing integral parts of yourself' thing hits *right* in the religious trauma#you cant tell me there wouldn't be *some* part of a Redeemed Drow's soul that remembers the people from before they were changed#unless they just. get a new soul in which case it literally isn't them anymore.#doras first real & healthy relationships happen in-game#thats part of why she's drawn to astarion. his bullshit is predictable to her and therefore feels safer.#definitely safer than whatever is going on with the others#(also why she trusts karlach so quickly: she's straightforward and blunt & doesn't really hide things?#and was also the only one to warn her against astarion. dora'd literally never had someone like that in her life before so it stuck)#and she'd feel a bit uncomfortable w/ the concept of Redemption at first but who is she to argue with a god?#esp one who seems kinder than many of the others#but as the story progresses she realizes that she *can* trust these people and that they trust her#and she sees how Gale and Shadowheart and Lae'zel are struggling w/ their deities#and not only does she have something to lose now but she's seeing more of how the gods work generally
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acmeangel · 3 months ago
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Levi always cut his own hair. Always. Over the bathroom sink, the door open just a sliver, a crease between his brow, his lips set in a straight line.
You knew this about him. You figured it was just another one of his habits and particularities, like how he has to brew his own tea. You tried once, and when he took a sip, his nose twitched and he asked “How did you make this?” — not quite an insult, he couldn’t bring himself to be completely rude to you, but you knew what he meant. You haven’t made tea since.
But the hair cutting. He’d never announce it, never make a comment about it after. If you told him it looked nice, he’d simply make a noise of acknowledgement and move on.
You’d simply find him, in the bathroom, door cracked open, while he leaned over the sink, snipping pieces of hair with practiced precision. The muscles in his neck, shoulders, and back would flex and move with every motion, the tension lingering within them obvious. The irises of his eyes looked cloudier, distant, and that crease between his brow persisted. Always.
You push the bathroom door open, slowly, soundlessly, as if a sudden movement would make him disappear into thin air. Sometimes, you thought it might.
You lean against the doorway, watching him — he catches your gaze in the mirror for just a second, his eyes locking onto yours with a fleeting vulnerable intensity, before he focuses on himself again.
You just want to help. It’s all you ever want to do, really — to take over some of the tedious little things he does by himself every day, just because he’s always done them by himself. Bit by bit, you want to show him that the weight he carries on his shoulders is something that can be shared, that you’d carry it with him, happily.
“You know, there are these things called barbers that are pretty good at this sort of thing,” you tease, gently, a faint smile curling onto your lips. You knew a groan was coming, but you also knew he appreciated your teasing. It made him feel more grounded.
Groan. Tch.
“Why would I pay someone to do a shitty job?” His eyes flicker to yours in the mirror again, a touch softer this time.
“Want help with the back?” you ask, your eyes lingering on the strands of hair that have begun to grow down the curve of his neck. “I’ll do it for free. It’s really quite a steal.”
“No,” he says. Instantly, flatly.
You walk over closer to him, as he snips the hair in front of his face.
“I won’t mess it up. I can handle trimming a few pieces of hair.” You smile at him in the mirror, and your hand finds its way to rest on the nape of his neck, gently.
He flinches, slightly. He never moved away from your touch anymore — not since the early days of your relationship, where every affectionate touch was foreign to him. In fact, now he usually leaned into it, wanted it.
“I can do it myself.” His voice comes out a little lower, a little rougher this time. His eyes don’t find yours in the mirror.
“Okay, Levi.” Your hand retracts from his neck, and you exit the bathroom. You didn’t want to push, you never did. You learned that with Levi, things had to progress a little slower. It had been like that since the first time he kissed you — his lips had been so light against yours, his hands just barely cradled your face. He’d never admit it out loud, but you knew he was afraid — afraid to let himself care about something precious, afraid that you’d leave him one way or another, afraid that he’d never be able to give you what you deserve.

You knew none of it was true. You loved him, and you weren’t going anywhere, and you loved the way he loved you. Quietly, subtly, through actions and small gestures, instead of words and big romantic displays. It was all you’d ever need.
You didn’t need him to sweep you off your feet or tell you that he loved you every day. You were just as happy waking up every morning to a warm cup of jasmine tea on your bedside table, in your favorite mug that he had once spent hours fixing after the time you had dropped it. It was always made perfectly — something he’d learned just for you, despite calling it “that herbal crap.”
Seeing the way your lips curved into a smile after taking a sip was really the only thing he ever needed.
So, you leave the bathroom and you get into bed, and you wait for him to join you.
A short while later, he does. He slides into the bed beside you, his head finds the place on your chest that it always does. His head turns away from you, the back of his neck a faint red from rubbing it with a towel, tiny drops of water glistening in his hair.
You reach out and stroke his hair — while he doesn’t let you cut it, he will always let you run your fingers through it. You’ve found that it soothes him, that it helps him relax at night.
He makes a noise of approval, of affection.
“I’ve never let anyone cut my hair,” he says after a while, a hint of apology in his tone.
“Levi.” Your hand continues to stroke his soft hair. “You don’t need to explain it to me.”
“My mom was the only person who’s ever cut my hair.” His voice is low, a rare softness to it, as he admits this, his face turned away from you. “I don’t want…” His voice trails off.
He doesn’t need to continue. You know what he means. He’d told you bits and pieces about his mom, about his childhood, and you’d been able to put it all together. You could tell, by the way he talked about his mom, that his memory of her was starting to slip through his fingers — and now, it seemed, the way she cut his hair is one of the few memories left.
“I know,” you say, your voice soft. “Don’t worry. But, at least let me get you some better scissors for it.”
A long, gentle silence falls between you two. Your eyes trace the slope of his shoulder, the slow rising and falling of his breathing.
He turns over, his head faces toward you. Your fingers drift from his hair to the curve of his cheek.
“Maybe… next time, you can help.” His voice is a slight, relaxed mumble, and his eyes search yours. “With the back. It’s a pain. Practically break my damn neck doing it.”
Mmm, you hum, nodding softly. “Alright, I will.”
“Just don’t make it uneven. Or I might have to leave you for a shitty barber.”
You laugh, and you smile. This is all he ever needs.
The corners of his lips twitch into a faint smile. His hand reaches up to capture yours as it gently caresses his face, and he presses a soft kiss into your palm. You know what this gesture means.
“I love you too, Levi.”
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
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k4lenz · 2 months ago
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big guy ✮ jschlatt x fem!reader hcs
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a/n: what up! i wrote this for my gorgeous loml best friend @plantring who definitely wasn’t holding me at gunpoint, and i’ve been meaning to write a schlatt fic for ages! so, here you go. big guy. maybe charlie next 👀 also the song was just the song i’ve been repeating and had in mind while i wrote this fic ! i hope you guys like it :)
notes: jambo, other unnamed cat referred to as ‘burnt soup’, swearing, cuddles, nicknames, twitch, wii games series, tucker keane & Ted nivison, chuckle sandwich mention, romantic, drinking, hobbies, singing, SFW, NSFW UNDER THE CUT!! , grabby schlatt /pos
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sfw hcs ˚⟡˖ ࣪
☼ toots. he calls you toots, all the time, every day. it’s either a cheesy nickname, sweets, toots, baby, sweetheart, or sugar. he’s new yorkian yk.
☾ he’ll call you them before you even start dating, just to watch your cheeks flush pink and lips fall agape. the image ingrained in his mind permanently.
☼ such a flirt, before you start dating. he’ll make a wild joke to nobody in particular when you’re with friends, noticing how everybody will laugh but yours is hoarse. watching you squirm in your seat as he lets out a little chuckle, is how he gathers you like him.
☾ you’re the flirtiest friends, and everyone can see it but you two.
☼ maybe your mutual point of realisation is at his house, when he complains about shaving and you offer to shave his chops. “y’better not fuck this up, lady. these are the money bags.” he’d tease, making you laugh. you sit on his lap, claiming it’s for ‘better access’ as you clean up his face.
☾ like i said with ted, schlatt’s also a romantic. maybe a little more old school, but definitely romantic. he’d ask you out on a date first, with pretty flowers and that charming fucking smile. then ask you to be his girlfriend. what? he isn’t a pussy.
☼ if you two don’t live together, he likes seeing you in his space more. he can’t quite describe why, maybe it’s just waking up with you tangled in his sheets in his bed in his room with his cats cuddling up next to you like you’ve been there forever.
☾ speaking of the cats, they’ve picked you over him. if you both call their names at the same time, both the cats will come running to you as if schlatt isn’t even there.
☼ “what the fuck?” he mutters, picking up jambo. “i pay for your food, house you, give you love and attention. and this is how you repay me, shithead? huh? by picking her over me? fuck you!” he frowns, holding jambo up as the orange cat simply meows in response. jambo’s paw finds his nose, and schlatt’s eyes glance at you. seeing you giggling as you cuddled burnt soup like a baby. “you too, you fuckin’ traitor.” he proclaims, pointing at the purring black cat in your hands who’s giving him the cutest stare ever.
☾ huh, kind of reminds him of you.
☼ if you have a pet too, even better.
☾ got a cat? he’ll try and make your cat love him more then you. it doesn’t work, but if you comment he’ll say it’s a work in progress. insists on feeding it every time he’s at your house, probably figures out some sort of nickname for your kitty. cuddles it every chance he gets.
☼ got a dog? he’ll pretend he doesn’t like it, call it dopey since he’s always proclaiming he doesn’t like dogs. but you catch him babying and cuddling your dog when he thinks you’re not around too often to believe him.
☾ best believe jambo and burnt soup will get mad at him when he comes home with another animal’s smell on him, but never get mad at you. he’s such a softie for pets.
☼ schlatt was quite the private man, not a very big fan of making things public on the internet. he knew how people could be. he wouldn’t want to expose you to that, at least not until he was sure you’d be okay with it and you’d been in a relationship for a while.
☾ didn’t mean he couldn’t leave a few subtle messages for his chat, though. maybe a pair of pink slippers on his floor or some jewellery. when chat would notice and spam, he’d smirk.
☼ “what, chat? th’re obviously mine.” he chuckled. gaslighting his twitch as much as he could. if you asked, he’d say it was an accident and he didn’t notice. he’s a good liar to everyone but you.
☾ after a while, he’d open the idea up to you. whether it be a stream, or a youtube video where he can blur your face. but he has one rule.
☼ wii games. he wants to bring back wii games.
☾ and of course since you’re both equally competitive fucks, it turns into a laughing, yelling and tackling match as you both play every wii game imaginable. spewing insults at each other when the other misses in wii tennis, bickering like an elderly couple, screaming and cheering in victory. him claiming he let you win.
☼ “if you win anythin’, that is.” he’d murmur with that dumb grin.
☾ which you reply to with a string of curses and insults
☼ he couldn’t imagine anything more hilarious. plus click bait.
☾ he brings you to chuckle week (RIP CHUCKLE FOREVER IN OUR HEARTS </3) and you all decide to play some of the board games that look like they’re collecting dust in the airBNB you all are staying in.
☼ scrabble? you and schlatt team, ted and tucker team, and you practically knock them off the fucking board. guess who? they’re cooked. uno? reverse. chess? checkmate. you’re winning every time, together for once, and giggling about it too.
☾ “connect 4!” schlatt bellowed, as you two won at yet another game. you sat at the dining table of the airbnb, sitting opposite each other in pairs playing another dusty game. “what the fuck? you two are cheating or some shit.” ted huffs and tucker shakes his head and laughs, with you and schlatt cuddled up with your manic grins and wins in every game under your belt.
☼ turns out putting two competitive (crazy, as tucker calls you) people on a team works.
☾ let’s just say no matter who you’re playing with, you two always win game night.
☼ schlatt will pretend that he doesn’t like whatever hobby you have, playfully rolling his eyes, but if you catch him marvelling at you doing said hobby? no you didn’t.
☾ he’ll let you drag him wherever, but not without complaints. he’ll hold your hand wherever, never let you pay whenever you go out.
☼ “that’s silly.” he’d argue, pushing your card away. “christ, woman. ’m gonna have to fuckin’ confiscate your card ‘n replace it with my own soon.”
☾ he’ll hold you whenever, especially if you like it. whether it be his arm around your shoulders, on your waist, or maybe even a hand in your back pocket
☼ especially in crowds, he’s got you close so you can get through it to where you need to go. he’d hate to lose you in a crowd, not a chance.
☾ he’d get drunk, you’d try and kiss him and he’d be like “fuck off. i have a loving girlfriend.”
☼ and you’d be like “j i’m ur girlfriend.”
☾ “oh! hi girlfriend :)” and then kisses you.
☼ tries to act tough but he’s such a big softie at heart.
☾ he also gets jealous if he catches anyone simply just glancing at you, big 6”4 boy just gives them a simple look
☼ “achlatt! that guy was literally just doing his job.” “don’t give a fuck, y’re my girlfriend. no need for him t’be so cheery to ya.” but he’d also be annoyed if they weren’t nice to you.
☾ sometimes, you’ll catch him cooking and singing to himself as he plays music on a speaker. some glen campbell, maybe arctic monkeys. but he gets embarrassed, despite literally having a christmas album and a real good voice.
☼ “i don’t sing, sugar.” schlatt would argue, food cooking and arms wrapped around your waist as you two gently swayed to the music playing in his kitchen.
☾ a lie that was, you called bullshit
☼ and you’d both sing to whatever was on the speaker, laughing and just holding each other close as you two danced properly. spinning you, dipping you. his hair messy, a look of admiration on his face. no matter how uncoordinated you two were, it was right in your eyes.
☾ same thing i said about ted goes, big broad tall man mmmmm
☼ gives the best cuddles
☾ got plushies in your room? he’ll buy you more, and have fake beef with them. rolling his eyes if you argue that they’re your children.
☼ deep down he knows he loves them
☾ and you
☼ mostly you
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nsfw hcs ˚⟡˖ ࣪
☼ he’s such a sweetheart in bed
☾ bitey bitey man. he can’t sit still for long
☼ as long as you’re in the privacy of your own home, whatever you’re doing, bet that his lips will be finding your neck.
☾ “can’t help it. taste too good.” he’d complain if you’d whine, that stupid shit eating grin on his gorgeous face. his hands on your hips, and his mouth leaving pinks, purples and reds that he knew you’d have to cover up tomorrow for work.
☼ he’s whipped. absolutely fucking whipped. pussy whipped.
☾ he’d do anything you asked, especially if you were promising to let him fuck you the minute you got through the door of either of your houses.
☼ horny motherfucker.
☾ in terms of oral, he loves giving and receiving equally
☼ watching you tremble underneath him as he hooks your thighs onto his shoulders and messily eats your pussy, sucking on your clit like it’s his last meal and he’s a starving man. his hands squeezing said thighs as you writhe, eyes watching your every reaction. impossibly harder at your every noise.
☾ and then also, “i didn’t say hover, sweetheart, i said sit.” making you sit on his face, pulling your hips down with his arms tucked under your thighs. devouring you and your perfect fucking cunt.
☼ pulling away later, lips and chops covered in your cum. licking his lips. “light as a fuckin’ feather, baby. don’t know what’cha talkin about.” if you were to ask if you were too heavy.
☾ but then also
☼ running his fingers through your hair as he looked down at you, on your knees so prettily for him. soft groans and sighs coming from his lips, eyes lidded, as you sucked his cock and looked up at him with lust. watching you wrap your lips around it inbetween his legs. tracing your tongue along the veins. pulling your hair, but never too hard: god, he was absolutely feral.
☾ he’s definitely dominant, but he isn’t harsh. he couldn’t stand seeing you hurt. like i said, he’s a softie.
☼ prefers to be face to face, but i feel like he’d really like back shots. simply to grab at your ass, watch the curve of your back arch as he fucked you good. leaving bites along your back as well, leaning over and leaving some on your shoulder.
☾ classic missionary, or you on his lap, are also his favourites. but he’s open to try other things with you, most definitely.
☼ he loves his woman, he really does. and he’d do anything to make sure you’re happy, always give you good loving. he’d hate to ever leave you without.
☾ him getting tipsy makes him even more desperate to please. even more desperate for you. but even sober, he always is
☼ rutting his hips into you, a little drunk as you combed your fingers through his hair “mmm. mine, sweets. god.” he’d grunt, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he fucked you perfectly. “need y’so f’ckin bad.”
☾ you flash him during an argument? it’s over as quick as it started. you were right, obviously. he’s following you like a dumb puppy again.
☼ would definitely turn around your plushies during sex. and also lock out the cats.
☾ when you two would unlock the door and come back out to the cats whining, your legs a bit wobbly, or maybe even unable to walk on your own at all, he’d pat the cats and smirk.
☼ “sorry, little shits. y’r mom needed some lovin instead.” he’d coo as you playfully shove him. a chuckle coming from his lips.
☾ he’s a very touchy grabby guy, whether it be your tits, thighs, your ass. he loves it.
☼ he’d get needy, and make it clear. it would never take him long to tell you if he was feeling needy, or he’d show it simply by picking you up or being close to you. it wasn’t hard to tell, and you’d be fucking within minutes.
☾ and if you’re needy? god, he relishes in it. teasing you, maybe even leaving you on the edge of orgasm over and over until your eventually sweet release. depends on how cruel he’s feeling. or maybe touching you, but not enough, just enough to make your hips jerk but not enough to build up anything. he loved the sound of your whiny frustration.
☼ yeah. he wants you. so bad. all the time.
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elf-trash · 2 months ago
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Solavellan Recommended Reading
I made a post like this for SilverV a million years ago and wanted to make one for Solavellan as well!
A few of these fics overlap with the ones I have linked in my current pinned post, but there are soooo many fantastic Solavellan fics out there that I decided to make a longer rec post so I could include more of them!!!
Without further ado, here are some of my favorites, in no particular order. Some of them are one-shots or shorter multi chapter fics, and some of them are massive long fics and everything in between. Some of them are new and still in progress, some of them are completed, and a handful of them are older fics. All of them are absolutely worth your time!
walk you to the shore - Scaryanne A beautifully written post-Veilguard one-shot about Solas and Lavellan having it all out in the Fade. Highly recommend!
the sun to burn - Pip (Moirail) An Inquisition re-write that goes off canon and does a phenomenal job at exploring a ton of aspects of the lore and story. Features fantastic character writing and takes really thought-provoking directions with the lore!
love is not a victory march - Brunchatthebookstore A Veilguard retelling where Lavellan is present at the ritual at the beginning that goes off book from there. It's beautifully, heartbreakingly written and off to a REALLY strong start with some truly devastating moments, so this one is absolutely one to watch.
miles below the surface of the dawn - gostak This fic is one of the most beautiful things I have ever read, period. On its face it's just 6 chapters of "there was only one bed" Inquisition-era Solavellan smut, but I stg the writer was channeling the spirit of Solas Dragon Age himself because it is the most perfect Solavellan smut I can imagine. Read this one, just trust me.
Martyr - existential_naptime If you like Solavellan angst, this one delivers in spades!!! It's set during Veilguard and explores what would happen if the Evanuris kidnapped the Inquisitor (and more specifically, how Solas would react). It is DELICIOUS and also extremely painful but well worth it!
Requited - cursedhag A beautifully written, pitch perfect Inquisition rewrite that fully checks all the boxes! Features a lot of excellent Solas POV that incorporates all the new lore reveals we learned in Veilguard. Do yourself a favor and read this!!!!
rook wins in the end - wiltedartist A great exploration of Rook's relationship with Solas in Veilguard. Solavellan, but focuses on the one-sided unrequited feelings that Rook develops for Solas. Really interesting angle that I haven't seen done better.
And Yet - say_lene Beautiful Inquisition-era Solavellan one-shot. All of this writer's fics are so beautiful and well-written, so I kind of picked this one randomly but ALL of their Dragon Age fics are worth reading. We stan a good smut character study!!!!!
In the Colours of Your Regrets - scribeofmorpheus Another excellent smut character study! Solas sadly jorkin' it in the Lighthouse to his own sad murals of his wife. 11/10 no notes.
Roses Where Thorns Grow - Bdafic This one explores what would have happened if, after Crestwood, Lavellan learned the truth about Solas and they rekindled their relationship. It's a beautiful story that stays true to character and explores some of their messier and more complicated relationship dynamics.
Servitude - niceasspavus Another really, really solid Inquisition rewrite that explores Solas and Lavellan's romance. Well-written with excellent details and characterization. Highly recommend all of this writer's other fics, as well.
These Hands, If Not Gods - Gefionne An AU where a pre-Inquisition Lavellan accidentally discovers an eluvian that lets Arlathan-era Solas time travel to her. Beautifully written smut and character development. AUs aren't often my thing, but this one is absolutely worth your time.
Looking Glass - Feynite This one is theee classic Solavellan fic and probably needs no introduction. It's a time travel Arlathan AU, and it still holds up even after all these years, even unfinished. If you haven't read this one yet, stop whatever you're doing right now and fix that.
Wildest Dreams - elf_trash Finally, this one is mine!!! It's a retelling of Veilguard with Lavellan as the protagonist (aka Lavellan IS Rook) that focuses on her complicated relationship with Solas. Starts near the end of Inquisition and will continue through Veilguard and slightly beyond. I plan on reincorporating a lot of scrapped ideas from Joplin.
This list is in no way comprehensive, as a) there are sooo many good ones and b) I haven't read everything (yet lolol), so please feel free to reblog this and add your favorites!!!
But in the meantime, do yourself a favor and check out all of these fics! Top tier stuff all around.
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energ00n · 3 months ago
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Omg! The recent art post with Jazz & D-16 just got me- AAHPKBIDLSJ! ITS SO GOOD! I GOTTA GO ON A NERD RANT NOW!
Definition of Fare: Noun- the price to pay for something(usually to pay for transportation or food). Verb- To succeed/be treated in a stated way. Or to progress or to be in a particular condition.
Here's the way I see it though:
Orion is probably unaware of how wrapped up he has Jazz & D-16, unaware of how in love they are in, but both mechs show/treat it differently.
Notice how with Jazz, Orion's garment is wrapped around his neck, but loose enough to slip freely at anytime. Almost as if it's a teasing/playful manner, which is how their relationship is presented to us. Jazz knows he can easily pull away, but doesn't cause, well, its Orion, and what other reasons does either of them need? It's almost like a loose leash, how Jazz can escape, but choices to stay by Orion cause he loves him~.
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Then we get to D-16, Orion's garment is tightly wrapped around him, it appears he's struggling to break free cause he doesn't want to he wrapped in Orion's love....or does he? This can go both ways that work for D-16, that he's struggling to break free cause he finds Orion "insignificant", but...is secretly wanting more, cause deep down, he'll be so selfish to keep Orion to himself if it was his choice. Which is what leads to the other possibility that he is purposely tightly tying himself around Orion's garment to keep him close & tight, making sure it never slips free from him, showing that only HE can have Orion till the end~
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Either way, I'm fangirling and craving for more. It's just so good! (Please correct me if I may have misinterpreted it though)
Dude I’M the one fangirling!!! I love love LOVE reading analysis like this, absolute blessing 🙏🙏✨
I do not wish to confirm anything because with posts like this I want everyone to make their own conclusions without being influenced but GAWDDDDDD what a lovely read. Thank you for sharing your thoughts!!>
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vxnuslogy · 11 months ago
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𐙚 my love, mine all mine.
— some headcanons about certain things the hsr men would do while in a relationship.
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— warnings: none
— author's notes: self-indulgent, once again credits to @.cafekitsune for the banners. this is lowkey dedicated to the stellaronhvnters <3
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𐙚  AVENTURINE 
would always accompany you on your spontaneous night drives around pier point. before you can even leave your room to drag aventurine to his car, he’s already leaning on your doorframe, his car keys in hand as he flashes you a smile; not the gambler like smile he shows to his enemies but a child-like one filled with uncontained excitement and wonder. 
its half past midnight and your both in your pajamas (he insisted that you both wear matching ones) as he rolls down the roof of his very expensive car to let the wind flow with your hair. your phone connected to the speakers as you blasted your shared playlist. loud enough to satisfy your needs to have a mini carpool karaoke session but quiet enough you won’t disturb any civilians trying to sleep the night away.
aventurine shakes his head in fondness and amusement when you scold him as he skipped a song he didn’t particularly like. the pout on your lips would soon fade as he reached to pull you by the chin and give you a peck on the lips. your nagging turned into panic as you hit him in the arms for not keeping his eyes on the road.
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𐙚 VERITAS RATIO
always comes home exhausted. even in his tired and slightly dazed state, he always comes home at exactly 7 pm and each time his arms wouldn’t fail to snake around your waist and his lips press a soft kiss on your neck in greeting.
when you ask about his day, the doctor just grumbles and complains about his students. but you knew deep down he was proud of them after they finally managed to solve this one particular problem he gave them without his help. they’ve been making fast progress, he once stated, making a smile bloom on your face when he checks their papers.
you chuckle under your breath as ratio continues to chatter away about his students' progress. your back flushed into his sturdy chest while arms kept a steady hold of you – tight enough that you could feel his muscles but still be able to move around the kitchen. a melody starts to fall from your lips as you hummed and swayed, and ratio follows with his own humming as you both start a pseudo dance in the middle of making dinner.
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𐙚 BOOTHILL
date nights with boothill usually consisted of going bar hopping and hiding away in a dark alley as the IPC passed by. you’ve grown fond of the excitement as your lover drags you out the bar with officers high on your tails. it never fails to rip out an uncharacteristic laugh from you and cherry grin from him.
tonight was a lot tamer than other nights. sitting in a bar counter, a cup of whiskey boothill had asked you to hold while he gets another bounty for the both of you. he knows you wouldn’t take a single sip of his drink, your alcohol tolerance was nonexistent he says making you roll your eyes. your peaceful night was disturbed when a new face popped out from seemingly nowhere, taking the seat your lover once occupied as the man tried to buy you a drink
boothill always had impeccable timing. just as the man was about to take a hold of your – his – glass, a cold arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into a firm chest. you try to look up but a familiar hat was instead placed over your eyes as the glass in your hand was taken. the liquid disappeared in a flash as boothill downs it in one go. just to prove his point, he gingerly lifts his hat over your face and press a kiss at the corner of your lips, making it known to the man that you were with him.
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𐙚 SUNDAY
not many would believe you if you told them the stories of how easily flustered the head of the oak family. everyone would picture him as a full package gentleman – opening doors for you, pulling back your seat, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, etc. – but what they don’t know is that, in your relationship, the one being worshiped wasn’t you.
without a doubt, you were the one who always opened the door to his office for him, offering to carry his things even if he protested, even going to one knee to tie the laces of his shoes. sunday was always in competition when it came to being a gentleman and he always loses to you every time. and he doesn’t make any effort to make you stop despite his embarrassment; one drag of your knuckles under his eyes when he’s overworked and tired and he’s putty in your hands.
how could he resist your pampering when you always take off his gloves when it's just you two in his office, pressing a delicate kiss to his knuckles and whispering sweet nothings to him. admiring the writing calluses on his right hand as you talk about your day. 
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© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.
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kiwriteswords · 4 months ago
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Finer Things [Aaron Hotchner x High-Maintenance!Reader]
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Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 6k|| AN: Here we are! This took a little longer than expected, but I think I like how this one turned out!
Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, canon-typical themes, high-maintenance reader, female reader, progression of relationship, simp!Hotch, feminine reader, Jack exists but is only briefly mentioned, BAU reader, materialistic reader, Garcia the helpful friend, flirty banter, mild language
Summary: You're a stylish...arguably high-maintenance BAU agent who unexpectedly falls for your straightforward and grounded partner, Aaron Hotchner. As you both tackle cases and life’s surprises, you learn to blend your love for the finer things with his practical approach, discovering a deep and enduring connection.
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Hotch’s office door clicked softly as you knocked, barely audible over the hum of the precinct around you. The frame filled almost instantly with your form—pristine as always, from your flawlessly styled hair down to the heels that added an effortless grace to your every step.
“Got a minute?” you asked, your voice as smooth and composed as the latte you held in one hand, the steam still curling lazily up from the cup.
Hotch stepped aside, allowing you entrance. “Of course,” he said, though he knew his afternoon was already crammed with meetings and reports. For you, though, he made time—something the rest of the team had noticed and often teased him about. But what could he say? Aaron Hotchner, stoic and steadfast, had indeed developed a soft spot for you.
As you settled into the chair across from his desk, Hotch couldn’t help but admire the meticulous way you organized your space on the table. Your designer bag was set precisely to the right, not a strap out of place. He often wondered how someone so particular could thrive in the chaotic unpredictability of the BAU.
“So, what did you think of the profile?” you began, breaking into his thoughts. Your eyes were bright, lively—a stark contrast to his own, which often carried the weight of the job.
“It’s thorough. You have a knack for getting into the unsub’s head,” Hotch replied, his voice firm yet carrying a hint of warmth reserved mostly for you.
Your smile widened, pleased. “I do try,” you quipped, stirring your latte leisurely. “But I think it could use a bit more… je ne sais quoi, don’t you think?”
Hotch raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And what would you suggest?”
“Well,” you leaned forward, the light catching your earrings just so. “If I were him, I’d be more careful about where I left my clues. Too sloppy. Maybe he needs a lesson in organization from me.”
Hotch chuckled, the sound more natural than he intended. “I think he’d be horrified at the idea.”
“Good,” you grinned, sitting back with satisfaction. “Then he’d know how I feel about unorganized data.”
Moving to the round table, the rest of the team began to filter into the office for the briefing, and Morgan threw a teasing glance your way. “Looks like Hotch is getting his daily dose of high maintenance,” he commented, a playful smirk on his face.
Prentiss elbowed him lightly, smiling in your direction. “Leave them alone. If anyone can get Hotch to lighten up, it’s her.”
Hotch cleared his throat, signaling the start of the briefing, but he couldn’t deny the truth in their observations. You brought a lightness to his often too-heavy life, a splash of color to the monochrome routine.
As the meeting progressed, your contributions were not just insightful but infused with a vibrancy that lifted the somber mood typical of these sessions. Each time you spoke, Hotch found his attention drawn not just to your words but to the way you expressed them—with a confidence and a flair that was uniquely yours. When you directed a comment towards him, accompanied by a playful raise of your eyebrows, there was an underlying challenge there, as if you were coaxing him out from behind his well-constructed barriers.
Your laughter, light and unguarded, filled the room at one point when you poked fun at the unsub’s choice of hideouts, suggesting even you could find a better hiding place during your shopping trips. The team chuckled, and even Hotch’s lips twitched into a smile—your cheer infectious, your presence undeniably compelling.
As the team began to disperse, you lingered over your notes, your meticulous nature evident as you aligned your papers and recapped your pens with a precision that spoke of a deeper need for order—a trait Hotch could appreciate, perhaps because it mirrored his own.
Hotch watched you, the way the light caught the highlights in your hair and the meticulous care you took with even the smallest task. He remained in his seat, an internal debate raging within him. He was the Unit Chief, always in control, always composed. But around you, those walls he meticulously maintained seemed less formidable, more permeable.
Finally, he stood, his decision made, propelled by a force he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. Approaching you, he noted the slight surprise in your movements as you looked up. His voice, when he spoke, was steady, but there was an undercurrent of something more, something deeper.
“Dinner tonight?” he asked, the invitation hanging between them, heavier than the casual manner he attempted to portray.
You paused, a pen still in your hand, and met his gaze. The flicker of surprise was quickly replaced by a slow-spreading smile that warmed your eyes. “Trying to keep up with my high standards, Hotch?” you teased, the challenge back in your voice, but this time it was laced with an unmistakable warmth.
“I think I’m ready to try,” Hotch replied, his voice low, honest. The corners of his mouth turned up in a rare, genuine smile that seemed to reach his eyes, softening the usual hardness there.
“Then it’s a date,” you declared, your voice light but carrying a weight that filled the room with a promise of something new, something thrilling.
As you gathered your belongings and left, your heels clicking assertively against the floor, Hotch watched you go, a sense of anticipation building within him. It was a feeling foreign yet exhilarating, stirring something within him that had lain dormant.
He realized then, as the distance grew between you, that what the team jokingly called his ‘weakness’ was perhaps his most profound revelation. In you, Aaron Hotchner found not just a challenge but a vibrant counterpart who could match his steps in life’s intricate dance. With you, the future seemed less daunting, more vivid—colored by the finer things, in every possible way.
Since that first dinner, a subtle shift had occurred in the dynamics between Hotch and you. What started as a casual outing evolved into a series of clandestine meetings, each encounter deepening the bond that was swiftly becoming an integral part of his daily life. The secrecy was necessary—not just for the sake of professionalism within the team but to preserve the unique world that had begun to flourish between the two of you.
Hotch found himself anticipating your texts, which often popped up on his phone with playful emojis and witty remarks about everything from case files to the peculiar habits of their local barista. You managed to make even the mundane seem amusing, and Hotch, ever the stoic leader, found his day brightening with each notification.
One evening, as Hotch returned home from a particularly grueling case, he found a small package at his doorstep. Inside was a high-end espresso machine—a gift from you, complete with a note: "For your home office, so you can enjoy a proper latte without braving the outside world. Think of me when you use it." It was both a luxurious gesture and so quintessentially you, blending high maintenance with thoughtful consideration.
Hotch couldn’t help but smile as he set up the machine in his kitchen. It wasn’t something he would have ever purchased for himself, but now, brewing a cup in the quiet of the morning, he found a new appreciation for the ritual. It reminded him of you—how you’d insist on the perfect temperature, the ideal foam-to-espresso ratio, details he’d once overlooked but now found endearing.
At work, these small infiltrations into his life were becoming more apparent. You had taken to adjusting the small things around him, straightening the papers on his desk, sometimes replacing his usual stark office supplies with items that had a bit more personality—a stapler in polished chrome, sleek and efficient like the espresso machine, or pens that wrote so smoothly he found excuses to handwrite notes he would typically type.
Hotch had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that your influence was a welcome one. It was as if you were slowly coloring in parts of his world that he hadn’t even realized were so monochrome. And when you both sat down at the round table, reviewing case files together, the subtle touches—the way your knee would gently brush against his, or how you’d share a quick, knowing look over a shared inside joke—added layers to their days that Hotch hadn’t anticipated but found he no longer wanted to go without.
One afternoon, caught in a rare moment of downtime, Hotch found himself at the local shopping center, standing before a display of designer ties. He remembered you commenting on how a splash of color could brighten his usual ensemble of dark suits and somber expressions. With a critical eye, he selected one that was a soft shade--something that would match your eyes, he thought, a private acknowledgment of the space you were coming to occupy in his life.
That evening, when he wore the tie, the team didn’t miss the change. “Look at Hotch, finally taking some fashion tips from the best,” Morgan teased, nudging you as you both arrived for the briefing.
You shot Hotch a playful wink, and he responded with a slight nod, a silent conversation passing between them. Yes, you were changing him, but perhaps, Hotch considered as he adjusted the new tie subtly, this change was not just inevitable but necessary.
For Aaron Hotchner, known for his rigor and restraint, the gentle invasion of your high-maintenance habits into his disciplined life was less a disruption and more a revelation. Each new preference, each shared secret, wove a richer tapestry into his days. And as he looked across the table at you, he realized with a clarity that surprised him, that these threads, once so foreign, were now essential to the fabric of his life.
The rarity of a day off was not something Hotch took lightly, especially with Jack away on a Boy Scout trip. He had considered a quiet day at home, perhaps catching up on some reading or simply enjoying the peace. However, as he was contemplating his solitary plans, you texted him about your own plans for the day—getting your nails done, a routine you indulged in every few weeks.
"I’m off to maintain my high standards," your message read, accompanied by a laughing emoji. "Care to join me for a change of scenery?"
The invitation was unexpected. The thought of spending his day off in a nail salon was not something Hotch would have ever considered before meeting you. Yet, the idea of accompanying you, of sharing in something that was a part of your routine, held an appeal he couldn’t deny.
"Sure, why not?" Hotch texted back, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he imagined your reaction.
At the salon, you greeted him with a bright smile and a quick peck on the cheek. "Never thought I’d see the day Aaron Hotchner steps into a nail salon willingly," you teased, leading him inside.
The salon was a buzz of activity, a stark contrast to the usual seriousness of his work environment. You introduced him to your nail technician, a friendly woman named Lisa who greeted him with a warmth that seemed to radiate throughout the room.
As Lisa started on your nails, you chatted animatedly about the colors and designs. Hotch found himself pulled into a conversation about the merits of various shades—a discussion he never thought he’d have, yet here he was, weighing in on whether 'Midnight Blue' was a better choice than 'Stormy Grey'.
"You know, you could get something done too. A manicure perhaps? It’s quite relaxing," you suggested, your eyes sparkling with mischief.
Hotch raised an eyebrow, considering it. "What would the team think if I showed up with polished nails?"
"They’d think you’re embracing the finer things in life," you replied with a laugh. "But maybe just a clear coat. We wouldn’t want to give Morgan too much ammunition."
Surprisingly, Hotch agreed. As Lisa began to work on his nails, he found the experience unexpectedly soothing. The gentle handling, the focus on something so trivial yet intimate, was a stark departure from his day-to-day life.
"So, how does it feel to be pampered?" you asked, watching him with an amused expression.
"Strangely relaxing," Hotch admitted. "I can see the appeal."
As Lisa finished, you both sat under the nail dryers. Hotch looked over at you, taking in the relaxed ease of your posture, and the genuine smile on your face. It was these moments, he realized, that he cherished deeply—the simple pleasures shared, the barriers between professional and personal blurring into something beautifully ordinary.
"You know, I’m glad you invited me," Hotch said, his voice soft amid the hum of the salon. "It’s nice, sharing this part of your world."
You reached over, your hand finding his. "I’m glad you’re here, Aaron. It means more than you know."
As they left the salon, Hotch felt a lightness he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The day had been uneventful by most standards, yet for him, it was a precious insight into the everyday joys of the person who had unexpectedly become his closest confidant.
The team's discovery of his relationship with you was as inevitable as it was unintended. It began one morning when Garcia, ever observant, noticed the faintest of smiles on Hotch’s lips as he read a text from you. It was nothing overt, just the subtle lift of his mood, but it was enough to pique her interest.
“Spill it, Hotch. You’ve been smiling more these days,” Garcia prodded as they gathered in the briefing room, her tone teasing but her eyes sharp with curiosity.
Hotch, caught slightly off-guard, managed to maintain his composure. “It’s just been a good morning,” he replied smoothly, hoping his nonchalance would deflect further inquiry.
Garcia, however, was not so easily dissuaded. “Uh huh,” she hummed, giving him a knowing look but dropping the subject in the presence of the rest of the team.
The next clue came unintentionally from you during a case briefing. You were discussing a particularly challenging aspect of the case when you casually mentioned a small detail—a detail that Hotch had shared with you in confidence during one of your dinners together.
As you spoke, Reid’s head tilted slightly, his brow furrowing in that characteristic way when he was putting pieces together. “That’s an interesting observation,” he remarked, glancing between Hotch and you. “Not many would’ve caught that.”
Hotch met Reid’s gaze, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. Reid’s expression softened into a subtle smile, and he nodded slightly, turning his attention back to the files in front of him.
Morgan and JJ were the next to catch on. It happened in the field, during a tense moment when you instinctively reached for Hotch’s hand. It was a brief touch, meant to be reassuring, but Morgan and JJ caught the action from the corner of their eye.
Later, as they regrouped at the SUV, Morgan clapped Hotch on the shoulder. “You know you can tell us, right? We’re family here,” he said in a low voice, his look pointed but friendly.
Hotch simply nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “I know, Derek,” he said, grateful for the support he knew they would offer.
Prentiss figured it out during a late-night coffee run when she saw you both at a small cafe, your heads close together, laughing softly over shared stories. She didn’t approach, respecting your privacy, but the next day, her smile was a bit wider when she greeted you both.
“It’s good to see you happy, Hotch,” she said quietly as she passed by his office, her words meant only for him.
By the time Rossi found out, it seemed that most of the team had already accepted the new dynamic with characteristic adaptability. Rossi, ever the father figure, simply raised his glass to Hotch during their next team dinner, a silent toast that spoke volumes.
“You’ve got a good thing, Aaron. Don’t let the job get in the way,” Rossi advised later, when they were alone, his voice low and earnest.
Hotch appreciated the wisdom; knowing the balance between personal happiness and professional duty was a fine line to walk.
As the team gradually discovered the relationship, what surprised Hotch most was not the fact that they found out, but the ease with which they accepted it. Their teasing was gentle, their support unwavering, and in their acceptance, Hotch found not just confirmation of his feelings for you but also a deeper appreciation for the team he considered his second family.
In this newfound openness, Hotch realized that his relationship with you did not weaken his leadership; rather, it enriched the very fabric of his life, both at work and beyond. With each passing day, as you both navigate the complexities of a relationship built amidst the demands of the BAU, Hotch found himself not just accepting but embracing the vibrant color you brought into his once-monochrome world.
The integration of your meticulous routines into Hotch's daily life was gradual, almost imperceptible at first, until one day he found himself deeply enmeshed in the particulars of your high-maintenance habits. What began as playful observations soon became cherished moments of his day, each routine offering a glimpse into the meticulous and vibrant world you inhabited.
Every evening, as you both prepared for bed, Hotch would lean against the bathroom doorway, watching as you engaged in your elaborate skincare routine. The array of creams, serums, and tools was impressive, and he'd often raise an eyebrow in mock incredulity as you explained the purpose of each one.
“Do you really need all of this?” Hotch would ask, his tone light and teasing as you applied a night serum with precise, practiced motions.
“Absolutely,” you’d reply without missing a beat, your reflection in the mirror smiling back at him. “It’s about maintaining standards, Aaron. You of all people should understand that.”
“I thought we were just going to bed, not preparing for a photo shoot,” Hotch would retort, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile.
“It’s called preventive maintenance,” you’d say, tapping the side of your nose with a finger. “One day, you’ll thank me when we’re both ninety, and I still look seventy.”
Hotch couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with the soft notes of the evening. He had to admit, there was a certain peace in these nightly rituals, a tranquility that had seeped into the crevices of his once rigid routine.
Sometimes, you would catch him watching and pull him into the routine, applying a bit of moisturizer to his face with gentle, coaxing motions. “You’ll feel better,” you’d assure him, and he’d comply, not because he believed in the miraculous claims of the products but because it meant more moments shared with you.
On weekends, the rituals would extend to mornings. You’d take your time selecting an outfit, coordinating accessories and makeup with an artist’s eye for detail. Hotch would sit on the bed, coffee in hand, offering the occasional nod or hum of approval as you held up two nearly identical pairs of shoes, asking for his opinion.
“What do you think? The matte or the glossy?” you’d ask, holding them up for him to see.
“The matte,” Hotch would decide after a moment’s consideration. “It’s subtler.”
“Subtle,” you’d repeat, considering this. “I like it. Subtle but effective. Kind of like you.”
The routine wasn’t just about vanity or upkeep—it was a dance, a way of you expressing yourself and inviting him into your world. Hotch found himself missing these interactions whenever you were at your own apartment. The bathroom felt too empty, the mornings too quick and utilitarian. He missed the scent of your skincare products, the sound of your voice explaining the benefits of jasmine oil, or the way you’d ask his opinion on things he’d never considered before.
Even his morning routine had adapted; where once a quick shave sufficed, he now found himself opening your moisturizer, the scent a comforting reminder of you. It was a small concession to the routines you loved, a way of keeping you close even when miles apart.
Through these shared routines, Hotch learned more than just the importance of exfoliation or the difference between matte and glossy finishes. He learned the value of slowing down, of savoring the quiet moments together before the chaos of the day set in. Each ritual, each routine you shared, wove deeper connections between them, turning mundane moments into cherished memories and in doing so, seamlessly blending his life with yours.
With your birthday on the horizon, Hotch was well aware of the intricacies involved in selecting the perfect gift. Your independence and flair for purchasing exactly what you wanted, when you wanted, left little room for him to dazzle you with something unexpected. Yet, the desire to surprise and delight you was strong; he wanted to be the doting boyfriend who could still manage to sweep you off your feet.
One morning, as he was choosing a tie for work, you playfully suggested one that would "match beautifully with my purse—if I had the right shade." The comment was offhand, perhaps even forgetful of the collection you already owned, but it sparked an idea in Hotch's mind.
Later that day, armed with determination, Hotch sought out Garcia. He found her busy at her workstations, screens flickering with data.
"Garcia, could I get your help with something a bit more... personal?" Hotch began, hesitating slightly as he ventured into unfamiliar territory.
Garcia swiveled in her chair, her expression instantly shifting to one of eager attentiveness. "Of course, Hotch! What do you need? Secret admirer codes cracked? Background checks for mysterious suitors?" she quipped, her tone light.
"Actually, I need advice on buying a purse," Hotch admitted, and briefly explained the situation.
"A purse? Oh, for you know who?! This is going to be fun!" Garcia clapped her hands, her earlier levity shifting into focused enthusiasm. "Okay, first things first, we need something as unique and classy as she is. Let’s dive into the world of designer handbags."
Garcia guided him through various high-end brands, explaining the appeal of each. "These are timeless," she pointed out, scrolling through an array of sophisticated designs. "But knowing our girl, something with both function and a high fashion quotient would be ideal."
Hotch listened, absorbing details about textures, colors, and what each brand symbolized. They finally narrowed it down to a few choices, each one reflecting a different aspect of your personality and style.
"This one here," Garcia pointed at a sleek, modern satchel with minimalist design but luxurious detailing, "seems like it could be the perfect accessory for her. It’s stylish but not ostentatious, much like how she approaches her work and personal style."
"It looks great," Hotch agreed, imagining how it would look draped over your shoulder. He made a mental note of the bag and the brand, deciding to do a little more research before making the final purchase.
"Good luck, Hotch! She's going to love whatever you choose because it's from you," Garcia smiled warmly, giving him a thumbs-up as he thanked her and left.
Back at Hotch’s apartment, as you both moved through your evening routine, Hotch found opportunities to subtly probe for more of your preferences without giving away his intentions.
"So, if you were to splurge on something frivolous, what would it be?" Hotch asked casually as you were both settling down with a glass of wine.
"Frivolous?" you chuckled, giving him a playful look. "Isn’t everything I buy somewhat frivolous to you, Mr. Practicality?"
"Perhaps," Hotch conceded with a smile, "but indulge me."
"A purse," you said after a moment, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "A really good, outrageously and stupidly expensive purse that makes me feel like a million bucks when I carry it."
"Sounds like a worthy investment," Hotch replied, his tone teasing but thoughtful. Your eyes met, and there was a spark of something that went beyond the casual banter—a shared understanding and appreciation for these little confessions.
Hotch tucked away every piece of information, each helping him build towards the moment he would present you with the perfect birthday gift. It was more than just a purse; it was a symbol of his attentiveness to your desires and his wish to celebrate everything you were.
But the birthday Hotch had planned for you was supposed to be special, a day to celebrate you in style, with every detail tailored to your liking. Instead, duty called in the form of a particularly tough case that dragged on much longer than anyone had anticipated. The hours turned into days, and by the time it was over, everyone was exhausted, physically and emotionally drained.
As the team began packing up, you sighed heavily, the weight of the last few days evident in your slumped shoulders. "I just want to go back to my apartment," you murmured. "I ran out of clothes, and I forgot half my skincare stuff in the rush out."
Hotch, who had been hoping to salvage what was left of the day, felt a twinge of disappointment. "You could grab what you need and come back to my place," he suggested, trying to keep his tone light, though concern etched his features. He’d go to your place if he could, but Jack was waiting for him. 
You shook your head, fatigue lining your face. "I'm just so tired, Aaron. Let’s just celebrate tomorrow, okay?" Your voice held a note of finality, but also a plea for understanding.
He knew he should let it go…give you the space you needed, but a part of him—the part that had been quietly contemplating a more significant step in your relationship—spoke up. "I was going to bring this up over dinner," Hotch began, his voice steady despite the chaos of the day, "but maybe this is the right moment. You and your... elaborate routines should just move in with me."
Your fatigue momentarily gave way to surprise. "Do you know what you’re getting into? My high maintenance might take over your space," you teased, a faint smile playing at your lips despite the exhaustion.
"Yes," Hotch said firmly, his gaze intense. "I know exactly what I’m getting into, and I love it. I miss it when you’re not there."
You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, your smile grew, and the weariness seemed to lift slightly. "You really want me and my half a suitcase of skincare products moving in?"
"Every last bottle and brush," Hotch confirmed, his voice softening. "It’s part of who you are, and I want all of you every day. Not just on good days or birthdays, but every challenging and tiring day too."
Your eyes softened, and you stepped closer, leaning into him slightly. "Okay, but we’re getting a bigger bathroom cabinet," you stipulated, your tone light but sincere.
"It’s a deal," Hotch agreed, wrapping an arm around you. The case had taken much from you both, but at this moment, a new door was opening—a commitment that promised to blend your lives in ways beyond shared cases and briefings.
As you both headed back, the weight of the case still lingering, there was a new undercurrent of hope, of shared futures and bathroom cabinets, a testament to the resilience of your bond.
You decided to pick up a few essentials from your apartment and spend the night at Hotch's place--now your place, too, despite your tiredness. Hotch, feeling a mix of relief and excitement, drove you to your apartment, waiting as you gathered your things.
Inside, you moved efficiently, albeit with a tired grace, packing your cherished skincare products and several outfits. Hotch leaned against the doorway, watching as you filled a small suitcase with what seemed to him an elaborate array of potions and tools. Each item was carefully selected, a ritual that he found both fascinating and slightly amusing.
“You sure you’ve got enough there for just one night?” Hotch teased lightly, his eyes twinkling with humor.
You glanced over your shoulder, a playful smirk on your lips. “This is the streamlined version, believe it or not. You might have to rent the apartment next door.”
“I’ll consult the landlord tomorrow,” Hotch quipped, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile.
Back at his apartment, as you began setting out your skincare products in the bathroom, Hotch watched for a moment, his mind returning to the gift he’d carefully hidden away—something he hoped would make your day a little brighter after the tough case.
“Hey,” Hotch called softly, capturing your attention as you meticulously arranged your items. “I have something for you. I was saving it for a proper celebration, but I think tonight is as good a time as any.”
Your curiosity piqued, you followed him to the living room, where he retrieved a small, elegantly wrapped box from a drawer. Handing it to you, he watched as your eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and anticipation lighting up your features.
You unwrapped the box with a gentle precision, and as you lifted the lid and saw the purse—a beautiful, designer pocketbook that perfectly matched the sophisticated style you cherished—your expression transformed into one of sheer delight.
“Aaron, this is beautiful,” you breathed out, carefully pulling the purse from the box. You admired the craftsmanship, running your fingers over the smooth leather and the detailed stitching.
“It reminded me of you,” Hotch said, his voice sincere. “Elegant, practical, and incredibly stylish. Happy Birthday.”
You looked up at him, your eyes shining not just from the beauty of the gift but from the thoughtfulness behind it. “I love it,” you said, stepping closer to wrap your arms around him in a heartfelt embrace. “Thank you; this is the best end to a rough day.”
Hotch held you close, his heart swelling with the joy of seeing you so happy. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you smile like that,” he murmured into your hair, feeling the weight of the case and the fatigue of the day finally begin to lift.
As you pulled back slightly, still holding the purse, you teased, “Does this mean I get a new purse for every rough case?”
“Birthdays,” Hotch corrected with a gentle smile, his gaze softening as he added, “You make it incredibly hard for me to spoil you more than I already wish to.”
You laughed, a sound that Hotch had come to cherish deeply. “I’ll try to be less self-sufficient in the future,” you quipped, clutching the new purse a little closer as if it were a treasured award.
“I wouldn’t change a thing about your independence,” Hotch replied earnestly. “It’s one of the many things I admire about you. But allow me the occasional indulgence of spoiling you, especially on days like today.”
The purse, an elegant and thoughtful gift, lay between you on the coffee table, symbolizing not just a celebration of your birthday but of the new phase in your relationship. The evening settled into a comfortable rhythm, the earlier tension from the case dissolving into the background as you both enjoyed the simple pleasure of each other’s company.
With the challenges of the case behind you and the warmth of your shared space around you, Hotch felt a profound sense of contentment. This was more than just a birthday celebration—it was a reaffirmation of your partnership, a testament to how deeply your lives had intertwined.
As you both relaxed into the sofa, the conversation drifted from light teasing to deeper, more introspective topics. Every so often, your hand would brush against the purse, a physical reminder of Hotch’s affection and attention to what brought you joy.
“Thank you, Aaron,” you said again, your voice lower, more reflective as the night wore on. “For understanding me, even when I think I don’t need anything.”
Hotch reached over, his hand finding yours, squeezing it gently. “You don’t need to thank me for that,” he murmured. “It’s just another part of our journey together. And I’m grateful for every step we take, side by side.”
The purse remained on the table, a beacon of new beginnings and mutual understanding, as you both shared the quiet comfort of knowing you were exactly where you were meant to be.
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Tag List:
@zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns
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ldknightshade · 1 year ago
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morality: a character creation guide
creating and understanding your oc’s personal moral code! no, i cannot tell you whether they’re gonna come out good or bad or grey; that part is up to you.
anyway, let’s rock.
i. politics
politics are a good way to indicate things your character values, especially when it comes to large-scale concepts such as government, community, and humanity as a whole.
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say what you will about either image; i’d argue for the unintiated, the right image is a good introduction to some lesser discussed ideologies… some of which your oc may or may not fall under.
either way, taking a good look at your character’s values on the economic + social side of things is a good place to start, as politics are something that, well… we all have ‘em, you can’t avoid ‘em.
clearly, this will have to be adjusted for settings that utilize other schools of thought (such as fantasy + historical fiction and the divine right of kings), but again, economic/social scale plotting will be a good start for most.
ii. religion + philosophy
is your oc religious? do they believe in a form of higher power? do they follow some sort of philosophy?
are they devout? yes, this applies to non-religious theist and atheist characters as well; in the former’s case… is their belief in a higher power something that guides many of their actions or is their belief in a higher power something that only informs a few of their actions? for the atheists; do they militant anti-theists who believe atheism is the only way and that religion is harmful? or do they not care about religion, so long as it’s thrust upon them?
for the religious: what is your oc’s relationship with the higher power in question? are they very progressive by their religion’s standards or more orthodox? how well informed of their own religion are they?
does your oc follow a particular school of philosophical thought? how does that interact with their religious identification?
iii. values
by taking their political stance and their religious + philosophical stance, you have a fairly good grasp on the things your character values.
is there anything they value - due to backstory, or what they do, or what they love - that isn’t explained by political stance and religious and/or philosophical identification? some big players here will likely be your oc’s culture and past.
of everything you’ve determined they value, what do they value the most?
iv. “the line”
everyone draws it somewhere. we all have a line we won’t cross, no matter the lengths we go for what we believe is a noble cause. where does your character draw it? how far will they go for something they truly believe is a noble cause? as discussed in part iii of my tips for morally grey characters,
would they lie? cheat? steal? manipulate? maim? what about commit acts of vandalism? arson? would they kill?
but even when we have a line, sometimes we make exceptions for a variety of reasons. additionally, there are limits to some of the lengths we’d go to.
find your character’s line, their limits and their exceptions.
v. objectivism/relativism
objectivism, as defined by the merriam-webster dictionary, is “an ethical theory that moral good is objectively real or that moral precepts are objectively valid.”
relativism, as defined by the merriam-webster dictionary, is “a view that ethical truths depend on the individuals and groups holding them.”
what take on morality, as a concept, does your character have? is morality objective? is morality subjective?
we could really delve deep into this one, but this post is long enough that i don’t think we need to get into philosophical rambling… so this is a good starting point.
either way, exploring morality as a concept and how your character views it will allow for better application of their personal moral code.
vi. application
so, now you know what they believe and have a deep understanding of your character’s moral code, all that’s left is to apply it and understand how it informs their actions while taking their personality into account.
and interesting thing to note is that we are all hypocrites; you don’t have to do this, but it might be fun to play around with the concept of their moral code and add a little bit of hypocrisy to their actions as a treat.
either way, how do your character’s various beliefs interact? how does it make them interact with the world? with others? with their friends, family, and community? with their government? with their employment? with their studies? with the earth and environment itself?
in conclusion:
there’s a lot of things that inform one’s moral compass and i will never be able to touch on them all; however, this should hopefully serve as at least a basic guide.
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gay-dorito-dust · 5 months ago
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hihiiii can i request some shy ekko 🫶 the scenes of him double taking at powder changed the chemistry in my brain and i just need some shy & smitten ekko 😭
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When Ekko found himself alone and deep in his thoughts within the solitude of his room, he’s reminiscing and wondering while tinkering with some spare parts lying about upon his workbench, needing something to occupy his empty hands as they began to go to work.
His thoughts were filled to the brim of you only you and while he hadn’t noticed it earlier, being as busy as he was with going out on missions and being responsible for a whole commune of people who followed his lead with wholehearted faith in him, he finds himself smiling at the moments you two shared away from everything else. You’d drag him away from his duties even if it was for five minutes but to Ekko those five minutes with you were more then needed, and he had you to thank for reminding him that he was only human, reminding him that he can rely on others rather then barring the brunt of the weight himself.
‘You’re making progress Ekko.’ You told him once as you were both watching over the commune high above. ‘It may not show itself right now, progress often doesn’t, it will in due time but what matters is that you’re changing Zaun one step at a time and I couldn’t be prouder of you.’ You finished as you took his hand in your own, intertwining your fingers with his as your thumb caressed his softly.
Ekko remembered being touched by your words, glad to know the had your faith and your pride in him, more then he’d ever admit in that moment as all he could see was you as everything else seemed to fade away. At the time he thought he was happy to have his closest friend help him make sense of the fog within his head, however the way Ekko remembered feeling was akin to that of seeing you for the first time.
You were the person he suffered scrapped knees with, bruises with and minor injuries with, only for you to merely laughed them off all the while patching him up. You dared to laugh and smile in the face of fear as you gripped his hand tight, only letting him know of your true fear and hopelessness in the off chance of great adversary. Ekko was the only person you trusted to have your back and he reciprocated those feelings, trusting you with his own life without hesitation. For that was how your relationship with him was built upon trust, respect and loyalty for as long as Ekko could remember, as it had always been you and him in his eyes.
And it will always be you and him until the end, a promise made way back when he shared his vision for Zaun’s future with you on a star lit night.
‘How about this, I’ll promise to help you to bring Zaun to a better place for you, for me, for everyone we help in the future and those who’ll carry the fight long after your dream comes true.’ You tell him as you presented him with your pinky and he playfully scoffs. ‘Pinky promises? Are you five?’ He asks and you nudge him in the side, pushing your pinky finger closer to him.
‘Are you going to continue to make fun of me or take me up on my promise?’ You replied and once again Ekko could only see you, even the stars seemed to frame you perfectly so that he was forced to keep his eyes on you, at a loss for words as he takes in how naturally you looked right then and there before he linked his pinkie with yours.
‘Deal.’ He said as he felt his body become warm upon seeing you beam brightly, your pinky tightening on his.
‘Ekko.’ Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts and his tinkering as he looked over at you, the emotions he felt when reminiscing about your shared past only seemed to be amplified upon seeing you; You weren’t wearing anything ingesting in particular, just your usual attire and his coat that you had stolen from him that very morning, much to Scar’s silent amusement.
Ekko would use the excuse that you’d always stole his clothes whenever Scar tried to gauge just what you were to him, and while that was true Ekko didn’t mind the sight he got whenever you stole off of him, it left a warmth within his chest that he wanted to experience for as long as he could before going back to being leader. A memory that he engraved in his head countless times and yet the sight of you in his coat never fails to make him take a double take at you, feeling that warmth spread throughout his chest as a soft smile graced his lips, he just couldn’t tear his beautiful eyes away from you even if he tried.
‘You okay there boy wonder? Seems like you’ve lost your tongue there.’ You add lightheartedly as you walked further into his room, stopping just when you were beside him, instinctively resting your hand upon his shoulder and squeezing it like you always did when you felt he needed a bit of comfort.
Ekko’s smile widens as he looked back at what he had been making the entire time his head was elsewhere, not wanting you to see what he could only assume was the look of a lovesick boy upon his face, only to see that he had made what looked like something a man deep in love would make with his eyes closed.
It was a forget me not flower.
You raised a brow. ‘You making flowers now Ekko?’ Your voice once again sliced through the silence as he looks at his creation, remembering what you had said those flowers in particular represented; remembrance, devotion, a vow to remember a love that will never be forgotten or lost to time. It was the perfect flower to represent his own feelings towards you but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to give it to you just yet, whether it’s be a rare feeling of shyness or the idea that one flower wasn’t enough to give to you when you deserved a bouquet of them, whichever it was or even both Ekko still wasn’t quite sure wha to lead with.
‘ I guess I am, maybe I should open up shop and start making more of these instead.’ He tries to joke back but the sudden sheepish feeling within his chest made it seem forced, his eyes kept flickering towards you then back to the flower, then back to you again to gauge your feelings through your eyes.
‘It’s beautiful.’ You said softly as you silently asked if you could reach for it, only to have him gesture with his head for you to take it from him.
‘Just like you then.’ Ekko murmured under his breath.
‘What was that?’ You looked to him and Ekko’s eyes went back down to his workbench, his cheeks aflame as he internally fights with himself to say something, after all being this uncharacteristic was only going to send you the wrong message since you were that good in reading him.
‘Nothing, you were imaging things again.’ He shrugged, hoping you’d reply with a sarcastic laugh or something, but you didn’t and before he knew what was going on you were kneeling next to him with concern shining in your eyes. ‘Ekko.’ You say lowly, making him swallow thickly as his eyes lingered on your lips, liking the way his name sounded coming through them. ‘What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.’ You continued as your eyes scoured his face for potential answers for your concern, moving your hand from his shoulder to hold his cheek instead, stroking it.
The feelings were killing Ekko at this point and you being as close as you were to him didn’t help one bit, especially not when he found himself resting his head against yours, closing his eyes as he breathed you in. Forehead touches weren’t something you were deprived of, no you and Ekko touched foreheads often as it was the biggest sign of affection a zaunite could give to one another, but this felt different then the others times in a way that made your heart sing. ‘Ekko?’ You asked again.
‘I’m fine.’ He says in a soft voice, ‘more than fine really.’ He adds as he opens his eyes to look into your own, giving you a sheepish but boyish smile.
You furrowed your brows as you lifted your pinky. ‘Promise?’ You replied and Ekko couldn’t help but chuckle and bring his pinky to interlock with yours, squeezing it reassuringly. ‘Promise, if I had something on my mind I will tell you first.’ He tells you, not liking the fact that he was keeping his truest feelings from you but he didn’t know what else he could do in that moment, he was tripping over his own words and everything as his mind was trying to convey a few simple words that his heart had been feeling for far longer then he had recognised.
He’d tell you how he felt for you soon as he watched you walk out of his room before burring his head into his hands, just not yet. He runs his hands down his face, only to stop in his tracks when he remembers that you still have the forget me not flower he made, never once giving it back to him almost as if you were under the pretended that it was made with you in mind; well it was but was he really that obvious? Could you read him that well? All these questions only made Ekko groan in annoyance, damming himself for suddenly becoming a shy, smitten kitten whenever you were near.
He’d get the words out…sooner or later.
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wonysugar · 2 months ago
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KARINA X READER W ORAL FIXATION
oral fixations are such a broad topic so i did some research and had fun with this, i think this is the type of oral fixation you meant lol? thank you for the idea :]
cw : usage of strap-on
you and jimin often hung out, being girlfriends at all. naturally, you progressively got to notice each other's little tics and habits as the relationship went on.
for example, you knew that she had a tendency to furrow her eyebrows at every little thing, whether she was focused, confused or simply just forming a thought. or or!! that she sticks out her tongue in every other situation; sometimes the joke she'd tell would call for it, other times she’d do it just cause. whatever it was she did, you found it endearing.
and she would say the same thing about you! except for… a particular habit of yours. she didn’t hate it or anything. it’s more like she… loved it a bit too much? for all the wrong reasons? to put it simply, she felt like a pervert for feeling the way she did toward it.
see, you had the tendency to put things in your mouth and chewing on them at all times. whether it was your nails, a pen you happened to be holding or even just a straw you had finished using a long while ago. whatever it was, you would spend hours chewing on it. and the context of the situation didn’t matter either, you needed to keep your mouth occupied at all times, and that was that.
jimin thought it was adorable when she first got to know you, a few years back, but once you two got closer, her thoughts got more and more… deranged about the whole thing.
the mere idea made her stomach turn; the two of you making out on her couch, feeling each other up as you usually do. she’d pleasantly surprise you by pulling away from the kiss and replace the feeling of her tongue with her fingers, watching you suck and lick on them whilst you looked up at her. how you would drool all over her digits the same way you’d drool on her strap, later into the dark night.
she’d always shrug it off, though. she never brought it up in bed since she was overthinking basically everythingcjfjckdn she didn’t want you to think she was weird, or anything!
that was until you asked her to let you suck her off during sex, which was something you’d never done before. she contained her excitement when she heard those words and proceeded to rationally ask you why it is that you wanted to do that, all of a sudden.
“i dunno,” you shrugged, “my mouth needs attention, i guess.”
KAAABEWWWMMMM!! jimin played it off, cool and collected, but inside? girl SHE CHEERED! the opportunity finally presented itself to her; she didn’t have to potentially risk passing as a creep yippe!! of course, that was all in her head, as you would’ve happily obliged if she had just asked you.
the actual sex later on? ohh you could tell she was having so much fun with your little oral fixation, she was smiling down at you the entire time. you had originally asked her to just let you blow her, but she went above and beyond your expectations.
you looked up at her, on your knees. she caressed your bottom lip with her thumb before sliding it into your mouth, a smirk plastered on her face as she looked down at you. “you want it, baby?” she’d say, ‘it’ being the black strap-on she was wearing. you’d nod in response, quickly getting what it is that you wanted.
by this point you were practically soaked, that much was obvious, but you didn’t know how much better it would get until she layed you down on your back to finger you; she told you to suck on her tits while she did so.😭😭😭😭ohh brother.
she pumped two of her digits in and out of you, fingers curled right against your g-spot as her thumb gently pressed on your clit, all in a repetitive motion. your attempt to hold your orgasm—after she ordered you to—was barely successful when you had your hand on one of her breasts, carefully fondling it. you tried to focus your attention on catching her nipple in between your fingertips and playing with it gently, but that just contributed to turning you on more.
on top of that, she had the other boob settled right onto your lips, her hand on the back of your head, pushing you closer to her. your mouth sucked and licked on the bud, your tongue working around it. you fed off of the pretty sounds that came out of her whenever you did.
after what felt like a painful eternity of her relentlessly pumping in and out of your dripping cunt with her fingers, she finally gave you permission to cum, much to your relief.
that eventual orgasm hit you like a truck and may or may not have knocked you the fuck out after a few minutes of heavy breathing.😭
she kissed your (very sweaty) forehead, satisfied and happy she could please you. the sight of her girlfriend sound asleep was enough for jimin to make a mental note for the times to come; to never neglect your mouth again.
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formylovetodaryldixon · 12 days ago
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"Daryl Dixon: NSFW alphabet."
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Summary: Daryl Dixon's version of the NSFW alphabet with you meeting each other since the beginning.
@kitt-iiworld: Hii.. since you made the sfw alphabet (I loved it) could you make the nsfw version now?
A/N: Hi, love! Thanks for your request, I really really hope you like this. I even thought THIS would be a good idea for a story, though I don't know if I could properly describe how the sex between you and Daryl turned into something more. This story is not that explicit, but still I leave a warning. I'm sorry if I can't express myself well; my English isn't great, but I'm trying to improve. Thanks!
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A = Aftercare (What he does after sex)
During his sex life before you, Daryl Dixon didn’t give a damn about what happened afterward: he only care about the very end for him. That is why meeting you in that new world was confusing for him because all Daryl was looking for in the beginning was some kind of release (you didn’t mind, you were looking for the same thing). But for Daryl, your honest concern for him outside the tent, for example, made him start to realize that sex did come with some kind of show that he cared about how your body acclimated to the cold after feeling hot as hell, not just getting dressed again, but waiting for you to come down from your own high, so he started to stay with you long after the end. (Which was just as confusing for you, too.) And as Daryl fell in love with you at the same time that he was getting the idea that the strangers around him were important to him, he became a real lover, caring, attentive to what you needed afterwards to the point of being able to take care of you to share everything with you if there was a surface where he could sleep next to you without worrying about danger.
B = Body part (His favorite body part of himself and also his partner's)
Daryl had never wasted his time on something as banal as his looks, but everything about him was wild and almost pornographic. Daryl was hot, always wearing his sleeveless shirt that showed off his well-defined arms after working with them his whole life, under his angel-wing vest (that made him look like a damn rock star), but one compliment from you that made him shy (and at the same time made him feel confident that you didn't see anyone else like that) was the praise for his arms, which stood out without even flexing them. Daryl was inexperienced in the matter of relationships, but even he could detect the change in your breathing when his hand rested on your waist for some reason, especially to pull you closer, so he loved to hold you in them.
When he understood that love and pleasure did go hand in hand, for Daryl your body became sacred so he loved everything about it, because it was the only place where he could get everything at the same time: so it was a duty for him to make sure that you got all the pleasure from him that you could have and that he could give you, because his own climax was seeing that you had reached it with him.
C = Cum (Basically that)
Condoms are a must, of course, because Daryl doesn't want to start making babies, at least until he knows the place where he can make a home and a family with you is actually safe, a place where you two can settle down and not worry about danger. But since the Alexandria infirmary isn't always stocked with them, and birth control is scarce, if not nonexistent, the "safest" thing to do without missing out on that particular kind of fun is to pull it out before finish.
Which brings us to the next point.
D = Dirty secret (A dirty secret of his)
As time went on and as his relationship with you progressed, Daryl discovered that there was something arousing about spilling himself over you, seeing a part of himself dripping down your thigh if you two did it on the bathroom counter for example: it was like knowing that only he had access to those parts of your body that were always going to be off-limits to anyone else.
E = Experience (How experienced is he?)
Before you, Daryl only cared about himself, finding his climax and releasing his own lust or even his own frustration. The bars in his city were idyllic for that, so his experience was one-night stands, or even a few hours, rather, because for him it was a waste of time taking the women home or go to theirs. Meeting you at the end of the world for Daryl, at first, was just finding someone to do it with, but as life forced you to live together, doing it with the same person made his experience grow, because it made Daryl more observant to the point of perfectly remember those places inside you that made you press yourself against him more or moan louder, until the idea of him pleasing you was what made him finish too.
F = Favorite position
The Daryl of the beginning of the apocalypse cared about positions because he related it to dominating and not being dominated, so it was always one where he was in control of the situation (although he disliked positions where the woman was degraded because he liked to be in control but not hurt anyone in any way) but as Daryl got older and sex went from being that to making love, any position where he could see your face and the changes in it as you got higher was something he preferred.
G = Goofy (Is he serious or funny in the moment?) (Russian roulette)
“Shut it.” He warns you, keeping his warm mouth close to your entrance. “Fuck, why ya always taste so damn good? Makes me wanna live in between yer legs all the fuckin’ time.”
He wasn’t normally a very talkative person, but when Daryl was on the right mood he loved saying things that he knew would turn you on, leading you to the edge of being out of breath.
(Don't know if this makes sense, sorry) More than a teaser or a joker, Daryl is a bit more talkative even before you two do it because that's when words matter as much as actions (if you know what I mean) because his words are the conduit to have you where he wants you: squeezing your legs closed when they become images in your head, anticipating the moment that's going to come, whether it's happening right there or a little while. And when it happens, he has to tell you how you make him feel too. So Daryl is somehow always serious just because he means every word.
H = Hair (All kind of hair)
The first time before you two did it and the moment his beard (which Daryl had never bothered to shave completely) brushed your face, you giggled saying "it tickles me," but the giggle it provoked in you was enough for him to notice that something like that didn't bother you at all, which made him continue doing it on future occasions on purpose just to hear a sound he thought he'd never hear again in his life during the apocalypse, plus your laughter felt full of colors in a gray world.
As for his hair, the idea was to let it grow because cutting it often was a waste of time for Daryl, and although even Carol offered to do it, he kept rejecting the offer. But there was a silent compliment every time you pretended to downplay how good he looked until Daryl heard it out loud from you: you look like a rock star, and everyone wants to fuck the rock star.
And ya do? It was practically the only joke Daryl ever made, but that question was completely honest too because at that point in his life, he only cared about you.
As for you-know-where *wink*, he likes to keep it short enough to see the times you're the one who decides to go down on him, to get the full view of your lips against him that has him grunting in seconds.
I = Intimacy (How the moment starts?)
Sex evolved from that to lovemaking, but it was always passionate and intense, no matter if it had to be fast of slow. But when it started, you'd usually joke around with, "I'm in the mood, do you want to do it?" Or the moment would flow depending on whether one of you had been out on a supply run without the other, so your bodies would move automatically, seeking each other's warmth after being away from each other, especially since you were already used to being together most of the time. For Daryl, it would start with the brush of his hand over a particular part of your body without anyone noticing if you were with someone, and if you were alone and somewhere comfortable, he usually knew how to read the mood in the room before pressing his lips against yours.
J = Jack off (Masturbation)
He's not a big fan of doing it because being with you quells his own desires, but when the group for a supply run doesn't lump the two of you together, Daryl considers it, especially since his body misses yours terribly and when his mind starts projecting you in the most sinful ways he can think of.
K = Kink (Like, something he likes to hear or feel) (When you finally came back)
“Ya can read it.” He gets closer to you, pushing you softly for you to lay on your back, climbing on you, his nose brushing your skin as he starts kissing your neck, his hand caressing your side. “I'll entertain myself with somethin’ else.”
You love the sudden hot feeling, the tickling between your legs in anticipation, the need to have him close again.
“That’s not fair, you asshole.” You chuckle, trying your best to read the letter.
Daryl loves the aggression, chuckling too against your skin as he pulls himself lower, just to meet your most sensitive and still covered area. His hands look for the bottom and the zipper of your jeans, pushing them out of you with your underwear lock in his fingers. You try very hard to concentrate on reading, trying to understand the messy words on the paper, but when Daryl buries his face into you without a warning, just to devour you completely, earning a moan form your closed lips, it is impossible to do so.
Two things: (pet names aside or when you tell him to keep going or not stop) the first is the way that only you can call him names (playing) just because it breaks the perpetuated idea that Daryl is dangerous in a bad way, like he would hurt people for no reason. He is dangerous to strangers who exude danger, who seem capable of hurting his family for mere fun or sadism, so his posture or his gaze alone is a warning that they should stay away from his people, but Daryl is not that way with you, ever, so hearing you call him those names (in a jokingly way) is fun for him because despite everything, he only seeks to be a companion with you.
“That feels good?” He asks, and you nod, drowned in the sensation too much to form a word. “Lemme hear ya, peach. I really need ya right now.”
He chokes with his own words, looking at you with eyes full of lust, between the strands of hair that fall over his forehead, but when you think that can’t get any hotter, Daryl brings two of his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them before pressing them against your clit, rubbing the area, hard and fast, causing you to cry his name.
The second thing: devouring you first before sinking into you while feeling what he does to your body with his lips and fingers.
L = Location (Places to do it)
When you two first met, the only place to do it was in his tent because it was further away from the rest, or if it was the place (if it was safe) where you two were looking for something useful for the camp, especially since you were the only person Daryl accepted as a partner, and because the rest of them feared him. Same at the farm. And when you and the group arrived at the prison, it was safer to do it in the cells, in something comfortable like a bed because you didn't find one often in that world anymore. In Alexandria, Daryl started to enjoy sex on the kitchen counter if he couldn't find your warm body next to him in bed, especially since your body was more sensitive in the early mornings, plus the sounds you made drove him crazy.
M = Motivation (What turns him on?)
SO many things about you, but mostly you: it was almost ridiculous and even embarrassing for Daryl at first, the way he used to check you out because he was almost always more isolated from the rest of the people, so it was easy to capture the curve of your ass, or your legs when you started wearing shorts because it was so hot. Daryl didn't even have to imagine you naked to get turned on, and once you two started doing t, it was easy for him to finish after fantasizing about you. And on the occasions when you wore a dress on the farm to mitigate the heat, maybe borrowed from Maggie, or some skirt, it was enough for Daryl to get so turned on by imagining himself lifting it up and sliding your underwear off for him to plunge into you.
No = No (The turn offs)
Daryl is dangerous in that world, aggressive when he needs to be to protect his family because unfortunately the situations called for it, but after a lifetime of pain, the mere idea of ​​bringing that kind of aggression anywhere remotely near you is a resounding no to him. However, time together has given him the confidence to touch you and been playful and to know exactly how far to go, because Daryl knows your limits and his own, but since that idea has never excited either of you, he prefers "intensity," not pain. Never.
O = Oral (Giving or receiving)
Again, the idea of ​​eating you out first is his duty, savoring the moment if there's time for the whole game until he brings you to the end, perhaps at the end of the day where you two can be alone and at peace, or doing it faster if there isn't, but every chance he gets, Daryl does it. It's arousing and even ego-boosting to hear you, to feel you in his mouth, and the way your body reacts to his touch: your hand in his hair to hold him there or even to urge him to go deeper, or the way you resist squeezing your legs closed when he's in between while his own hands are on your hips or thighs to pull you closer to him, even though he physically can't anymore.
At the same time, Daryl LOVES the idea of ​​you going down on him, from start to finish. If he’s leaning against a wall, he’s driven crazy by the way you unbuckle his belt and his pants, sliding them down to his knees if there’s no time to remove them completely, with the sight of your lips pressing against his dick, going up and down all his length, your own hand wrapping around it while the other gripped his thigh. His reaction to pleasure is almost the same as yours, placing his hand on your head to guide you so you can take him all the way (without forcing), but the feel of your hot mouth on him has him grunting in seconds.
P = Pace (Is he fast? Or slow?)
It depends on your mood and what's happening around you two. It's always intense, but in different ways. Sometimes Daryl just wants to feel you pressed against him without any clothing while you both slowly enjoy the pleasure of the moment, feeling the swaying of your body and his without any rush, kissing and touching because there is time, although the feeling of the end always makes him increase the intensity with which he started. It basically depends on the moment and how life goes by.
Q = Quickie
With random girls in bars or other places, it was fine for Daryl because there were no feelings tying them to him, perhaps because the idea of ​​just pulling down his pants and doing it was all for him, but as he fell in love with you, the idea of ​​doing it in a hurry became something he no longer enjoyed, not when he started wanting to take his time feeling your body and your warmth. Daryl started enjoying the foreplay and what came after (even if you didn't have all the time in the world) to the point where he needed at least a moment to come down from that high with you by his side, and he didn't want to abruptly feel the cold your body left on his when you were the one who pulled away first, until one day, it was Daryl who questioned why you had to leave so quickly, and saying that out loud opened the door for him to consider that there were starting to be feelings involved. In conclusion, it wasn't the few minutes to do it, but rather the feeling that your body was just a means to obtain something for him alone.
R = Risk (Something risky?)
No. Absolutely nothing life-threatening. Daryl wants you alive, so anything that would put that at risk, even to experience new things, (even if I can't imagine what) is a no-no. You were pretty laid-back too, so you both enjoyed the ordinary. Perhaps the riskiest thing you both did was doing it knowing someone could find you (not necessarily something you purposely sought out, it just happened).
S = Stamina (How long can he last?)
Daryl can do it a couple of times, but he prefers to do it once, but using the time well, building the tension appropriately, tiring your body and his so that after chatting for a while, you can both sleep peacefully if it's the end of the day. You often joke that you're not getting any younger and that doing it once a day, but doing it properly was all you needed, and he agreed with that. Oddly, that chaotic life gave him a sense of peace when he was with you, so Daryl enjoyed the time with you, alone, without any clothing on. Doing so was intense, but somehow, it calmed the madness of his world too.
❧ T = Toys (Does he like toys?)
Nope. Maybe the Daryl of the beginning would feel like his masculinity was being offended, but you weren't interested in anything else either, so the idea never came up.
U = Unfair (Does he like to tease you?) (Didn’t get how this is different from the G, but oh well hehe)
In the lead-up to it, Daryl is amused by the way your body reacts to those little touches of his to let you know what’s coming next, just because time together has given him the confidence to tease you like that. Like his hand resting on your lower back because it’s a sensitive spot for you when you know what he’s asking for, and the way you arch slightly makes him feel good. During it, Daryl has learned how to change the pace of his thrusts just to make the moment last a little longer, so he would tease you like that, especially when it has you whining and begging him to move faster. But in the end, he always gives you all the pleasure he can give.
V = Volume (The sounds he makes or how loud he can get)
The sounds you make are something that have Daryl grunting against your mouth like an animal, especially if you're about to cum too. He's quiet in his daily life, talkative enough when you're alone together, but the sounds you make against him, against his shoulder or neck, are something that turns him on to the point where he has to crush his mouth against yours to stifle those little sounds he starts to make too. He's not that loud, but in the beginning, you two were always around someone so you were always careful about that. Before you, Daryl used to talk to women just to feed his own ego, sarcastically asking if it felt good because he knew what he was doing, but with you, it was a need to let you know that you made him feel good, that he needed only you.
W = Wild card (A random headcanon) (Same as the P, I guess?)
As the feelings grew and Daryl got older, trusting you (because he didn't trust anyone, much less intimately) made him enjoy having you on top of him, moving with him inside you however you wanted, (thinking about his pleasure too) with his hands on your hips or thighs to help you move even better.
X = X-ray (You know what I mean)
Without going into too much detail, it's big enough to fill you completely. Not too small, not too monstrously large to hurt you.
Y = Yearning (His sex drive?)
Daryl didn't think compulsively about sex, but when he was in a bar and there was always someone looking for the same thing, he did it. When you two met at camp in Atlanta and he started noticing you and even fantasizing about you, it was something that hadn't happened to him before, especially because he didn't usually like doing it with the same person over and over again. But as the act continued to repeat itself, Daryl began to feel the need to do it again with you, until he understood that he needed it not just for the action, but for the desire to be close to you, and feel you that way while you two enjoyed the pleasure. Physically, it was everything about you that attracted him, but it was also the way you, and only you, could roll your eyes at him, respond to his sarcasm with more sarcasm, the way you didn't feel intimidated by him when others were scared to be around him. That fierceness in you drove him crazy to the point of wanting you, not every minute of the day, but enough to be the one who looked for you first.
Z = Zzz (How quickly he falls asleep)
Daryl never slept much or well in the past, so when you two started spending time together afterward, he started sleeping better with you next to him, and it made him seriously wonder what the heck was going on with him. But at the same time, Daryl was discovering for the first time in his life what it was like to talk about nothing in particular with you before sleeping together, sharing stories until he was longing for it. During the day, he started thinking about what story he would tell you, especially something to make you laugh after he told you about the time he got lost in the woods as a kid (because after how worried you were about that), you laughed at the way Daryl ended by saying that everything had turned out okay, except for the fact that his butt was burning from having to wipe it with poison ivy. After the first time you slept together after doing so, Daryl would often fall asleep after you, just to make sure that until he couldn't resist sleep anymore, you were safe.
By the time you two were on the prison and in Alexandria, Daryl did the same thing, talking with you until you would fall asleep first, with him following you a little bit after.
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freshxsturniolo · 11 months ago
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how much did you hear? chris sturniolo x femreader 
SUMMARY :chris and nick think you're fast asleep on the couch after watching a movie and chris confesses he's in love with you. 
You feel your boyfriend pull the blanket down and over your feet as you feel his weight shift from the sofa, his thighs you'd had your feet tucked under now replaced by the blanket and the absence of his arm across the length of your leg as his hand had been resting at your hip. You had fallen asleep, for sure, and you could hear the soft sound of some music playing on the TV rather than the movie you had just been watching, but you were too tired to even stir, so you allowed yourself to fall back into a soft slumber. You could hear brief sounds around you, but you knew sleep would come over you again soon. 
Chris had been your boyfriend for the last 6 months, and you had never felt anything like what you did for Chris with anyone else. You were nervous at first, knowing Chris had voiced his fear of relationships in the past, but it had progressed much quicker than either of you had anticipated. You were each others shadow, and if you weren't together you were sending each other randoms messages, letting the other know you could wait to see them again, or that you were you simply thinking of the other. It was wholesome, that was the best way you could describe it. On this particular day, you were both so tired and wanted nothing more than to be in each other presence. Both being tired from working and some other social events that had left both your social batteries a little drained and your bodies a little sleep deprived, so a movie on the sofa had been the perfect idea. Matt and Nick had also joined, but at some point Matt had gone to his room and the chuckle you just heard from Nick confirmed he had stayed for the duration. In your light sleep, you heard both Chris and Nick enter the kitchen just behind you, and the general clatter of them moving around, grabbing drinks and more snacks, no doubt getting ready to turn on their consoles and play something together whilst you slept, which only made you nuzzle your head into the cushion you were lay on even further, feeling less guilty for falling asleep instead of spending time with your boyfriend and his brothers. But just as you were about to doze off, you heard Nicks voice. Soft, so not to wake you, but unaware you were only lightly falling asleep.
"I love that Y/N feels comfortable enough to just come over and sleep like this, with all of us in the room." You smile at Nicks words, eyes still closed, glad that he had noticed that not only had Chris become a comfort for you, so had Nick and Matt. "She loves you guys." Chris speaks. "Good. Cause we love her." Nick says. There's silence, and you open your eyes slightly. You were facing the TV and didn't want to draw attention to the fact you were awake, but suddenly you wanted to hear in. You had sometimes felt a burden to the three triplets since becoming Chris' girlfriend. He spent less time alone with them these days and you were afraid Nick and Matt resented you for that, so to hear they didn't could only make your heart sing. But your heart stopped singing, and suddenly it was dancing out of your chest when you heard Chris speak next. "Nick, can I tell you something?" he said, and he almost sounded scared. Anxious. Like he wasn't sure how to get his words out. There was silence from his brother and you had wipe your tongue across your teeth, suddenly feeling your mouth go dry. "What?" Nick said. Silence again, but you strained your ears to listen. "I'm in love with her." Your eyes were wide. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You had an inkling over the last few weeks that Chris was going to tell you he loved you. The way he looked at you sometimes when you were sat in silence. The way he had started lingering around your mouth after a kiss, like he wanted to say something. The way he said your name to get your attention and when you asked what was wrong, he would smile and say nothing and go back to what he was doing. It was giving your butterflies every time, and there were times you had almost said it for him, because you too loved him. So much. "I know." you hear Nick say, and you have to stifle a laugh so they don't know you're awake. "You know?!" Chris speaks now, and theres a pitch to his voice. "Chris, the whole world probably knows. It's so obvious" Nick says again. "Have you told her?" "No" Chris sighs. "So tell her."
You were itching to sit up. You wanted him to tell you, so badly. And you wanted to tell him back. But something about telling him in front of his brother didn't feel right. "What if she doesn't say it back, bro?" You practically hear the eyeroll Nick gives him. "I promise you, she will." Theres silence again. And you can hear them opening cupboard doors once more, the conversation now turning to something completely different, and you don't know how you're going to pretend to be asleep when they come back. You felt hot, the overwhelming feeling to rip the blanket from your skin was overpowering and you wondered if you could get away with acting like you had only just risen, when announced he needed the bathroom. "I'll be 2 minutes, get the game ready." Your heart starting hammering again as your heard Nick run upstairs to his bathroom, closing your eyes quickly knowing he would have to pass you as he did so, but you opened them again once you heard his footsteps disappear. But then the moment you opened your eyes, you heard your boyfriends footsteps come closer, and you knew it was too late. Your eyes locked. He stopped in his tracks. Can of Pepsi in hand and a bowl of chips in the other. You smiled, and the blush appeared on his cheeks immediately. "How long have you been awake?" he asks, leaning forward to put his drink and snack on the table, before standing back upright and not moving another inch. "A while." you say, but it's almost a whisper. "Did you -" he stops and ruffles his hair. "How much did you hear?" He knew. He knew you'd heard him. You smile again, and finally sit yourself up. You know he's not going to move, the blush on his face is proof enough he feels nervous. Or embarrassed. Maybe both. So you push the blanket off of your body and stand yourself up. He takes in your body. One of his black hoodies and shorts, and when he reaches your eyes he finally lets out a breath of air. You chuckle. You hold out your hand as you walk to him and when he you finally reach him, he grabs hold of it tightly. "I'll say it back." you whisper. You hear Nick open the door to his bathroom from upstairs. He's singing the words to Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter, and suddenly Chris relaxes, a small chuckle escaping his lips. It was now, or it would hang over us. "I love you." You stare at him for a second, before letting go of his hand and warping your arms around his neck. His arms immediately come around your waist and he pulls you closer, his nose grazing against your neck. "I love you too, Chris. So much." He lets out a chuckle before you pull away and look at other other, your arms still around his neck and his still around your waist, and he leans forward to plant a kiss on your lips. "I wanted to tell you so long ago." he whispers now, the sound of Nicks footsteps finally coming down the stairs. You knew he was only seconds away from walking in on you both, but if Chris wasn't moving, neither were you. "Me too. Me too." you smile, and you lean froward and kiss him again. You both let out a chuckle into each others lips as you hear Nicks footsteps come to abrupt stop. You remove your lips from his to look over his shoulder, and Chris turns his head in the same direction, both still wrapped together. "Did you tell her?" Nick says, an excited look on his face as he looks between you both. "Tell me what?" you say, playing dumb as you look at the side of your boyfriends face just in time to see him roll his eyes before turning to face you. "Shut up," he whispers, before planting another kiss on your lips, pulling away and pushing you backward slightly so he can grab hold of your hand to walk you back over to the couch. "I'll take that as a yes, shall I?" you hear Nick say, and you turn around and give him a smile. 
You spend the rest of the night with your legs draped over Chris', your hands twirling around in his hair as you peacefully watch him playing his games with Nick, turning round and giving you the occasional kiss when he had a spare second he didn't need to concentrate. And when you get into bed that night, Chris' arms holing you tightly into his chest, it's the first night of many more he whispers I love you before you fall to sleep. 
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patricia-taxxon · 4 months ago
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How do you use therapy effectively? Ive been seeing the same therapist for a year. Should I keep going? I don't know anyone irl
therapy isn't for everyone, and not every therapist is a good fit. the amount of money you need to spend to attend meetings and get good at vetting therapists puts it out of reach of a lot of people which makes me hesitant to give broad advice about it.
however, the best therapy i've ever gotten was when i saw a specialist on a particular issue and knew myself enough to go at it specifically. my generic talk therapist didn't help me at all in retrospect, but the OCD specialist and the DID specialist made me feel like i was capable of making progress with this brain. i also live in an area where it was easy to find non-generic depression/anxiety therapists, so your mileage may vary here as well.
you definitely need irl relationships no matter what, though. i don't really know how to do that, my new irl friend is just someone who knew my mom who was also a fan of me so i had a head start with them. find a place that isn't work or home and go there every week.
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northopalshore · 4 months ago
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Solar Return collective
Observations I
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This post is a short compilation of random solar return placement observations I've made. Nothing is organized in any particular manner.
₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑
☆ Moon (11° aquarius ) in Taurus 7th house
You will have a lot of admirers, and you will be very popular to the opposite gender. You may have fun flirting around with no strings attached. If a relationship develops, it will not be serious.
☆ Moon opposite venus in 7th house
You will feel very uncomfortable in romantic relationships. Perhaps you will feel very burdened with commitment and prefer to break things off quickly for ease of mind. Especially if it's in aquarius or aquarius degrees (11°, 23°)
☆ Venus in 1st house in libra/libra°
You will have a lot of suitors or admirers coming your way. You will likely experience a glow up of some sort as well. Dressing better, putting in more effort into your looks.
☆ Chiron (17° leo) in pisces 5th house
You will be breaking hearts this year. You will turn down many admirers and could potentially crush some spirits as well, although you might not be able to see the true extent of your actions lol.
☆ Neptune 5th house in Libra/pisces
You will be very enchanted by the idea of love. There will be many opportunities for you to romance and be romanced, however a serious relationship isn't very likely. You could just be into flighs and crushes. Moving from one and on to the next!
☆ Mars in the 7th house
You're likely to be pursuing a romantic interest this year i.e asking them out or proposing. Something in your love life or your close relationships may finally be progressing. You may also make more effort to meet people if you haven't already.
☆ Mars in the 2nd house
You will take more effort into earning money this year. You may get a job (whether full-time or part-time). You may apply to a lot of jobs at once as well. You feel more motivated to earn money. However, you may spend equally as much as well. You may have difficulty when it comes to saving money.
☆ Mars (12° pisces) in aquarius 7th house
You might have a one sided crush on someone. You might see a potential partner in them while they do not reciprocate i.e are emotional unavailable.
☆ Pluto 3rd house
If you are in school, you might be switching schools this year. If not, you will be changing the way that you speak or communicate. You could also learn a new language this year (or have to).
☆ Mars (22° capricorn) in 12th house
You might be moving residences, moving to another state or town because of work or your father. This could be a very big change.
☆ Jupiter 1st house
You might be gaining significant weight this year. Being more confident, and comfortable with yourself as well as indulging more in extroverted activities (if you haven't before this), like seeing friends more, putting yourself out there.
☆ Jupiter retrograde in 1st house Capricorn/Capricorn°
You may be feeling rather self conscious about how you look and dress. Changes in your appearance may prove to be uncomfortable for you. You could experience a lit of skin problems as well.
☆ Jupiter (22° capricorn) in virgo 11th house
You could be gaining a lot of new friends from your work or school environment. You could work together or be in the same field as them.
☆ Uranus (16° cancer) retrograde in 6th house
You could be moving closer to somewhere you used to grow up or used to live. It could be significant to your parents or your mother, could also be related to you grandmother.
☆ North node in the 1st house
This year, you will be focused on finding yourself (again). You may take a lot of time to assess what you are and what you aren't, perhaps coming to terms with your individuality what really defines who you are.
☆ Uranus in the 1st house
You may be changing something about your appearance, you could be losing or gaining significant or noticeable weight. You could define signature looks as well. You may be changing what you normally wear as well (personal uniform). If you've dressed rather rigidly before, this year you will be more experimental. You may post photos or videos of yourself online more as well.
☆ Sun in the 8th house
You will be experiencing a deep personal change this year. Perhaps finally addressing inner demons or trauma that you may have been pushing back.
☆ Moon in cancer
You may cry a lot this year, be more sentimental or emotionally expressive. You could feel like being closer to your mother or a mother figure. You may feel more in tune with the feelings of those around you as well. Perhaps people will look to you for comfort or validation this year.
☆ Moon in the 3rd house
You could start writing about your feelings this year, maybe start journalling or talking about your feelings in general i.e.sharing with friends, recording voice notes or filming yourself talking. Finding more ways to express your emotions.
☆ Saturn in the 10th house
You could be taking your job or work seriously this year, finally locking in lmao. You may want to be seen as more responsible and dependable this year.
☆ Chiron in the 12th house
You may experience deep seated pain this year. It could be related to spirituality, or whatever secret sorrow you have kept to yourself this year. Perhaps a spiritual awakening has brought you a lot of pain. Learning something related to a loss or a late realization. Being more sensitive to the metaphysical world.
☆ South node in the 7th house
You may be less reliant on your relationships this year, less focus on your love life. Choosing to let go and ease your mind when it comes to relationship i.e letting go of control.
☆ Jupiter in the 10th house
You will get a lot of recognition for your work this year, you may get a promotion or some sort of title this year. A lot of people may look to you for guidance.
₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑
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Thank you for reading!
@northopalshore
@northopalshore SRC 2024 all rights reserved.
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