#been working on sussing it out

[arzuera]

Who Wrote That?!

Hello! This is a Host and Player's guide on how to play 'Who Wrote That?!', a writing game for all ages! What is 'Who Wrote That?'? It's a game played with a minimum of 4 players or more. The players submit excerpts based on a prompt to the host and then have to guess who wrote what when the host releases them later. Whoever has the most points at the end is the winner!

Rules for Players

If there is one, please read the 'Do Not' list that any host gives you. This ensures that everyone has fun and no one is secluded because someone wrote something that triggered them.

2. Write an excerpt based on the prompt in the given timeframe. If you need an extension, ask the Host! More than likely, they will work with you. After all, the more the merrier.

3. Try to keep to the word limit, if there is one. Writing too much could out you just as much as writing too little. If you feel that your excerpt may be too long or too short, ask the Host if you may need to edit.

4. HAVE FUN! You can keep any writing that is too long and post it later or even continue the story if you wish! Odds are the plotbunnies will have made themselves home anyway :D

How to Host

Hosting is just as fun as playing! You get to read all the lovely juicy fun words and then see everyone gush and lament on the excerpts and their choices between submissions! The Host is the person/people who organize the rounds and keep track of the points. They also are the ones who post the excerpts for the players to read during guessing time and post the reveals round by round after voting is closed. It can seem daunting but it's a lot of fun!

There are two ways to play: A long game and a short game.

On average, a long game is considered a word limit of 1k or higher with a short game being about one paragraph or 300-400 words. Your game length will vary on the number of players and how long the excerpts are.

First, as the Host, pick or come up with a prompt. Try and find one or make it, open-ended so that the authors can really make the prompt their own! For example:

Danny gets trapped in a spellbook. He binds himself to whoever touches him next. The only way to release the bind is by either freeing Danny or doing so many things the book says (which the book is blank and Danny can control what is in it). Shenanigans

Also here is the Tumblr post source: Prompt Source

This is the first game we played! Its short but vague enough for the players to go off on their own interpretations.

Second, figure out the timeframe that works as best for you as it does with everyone else. Unfortunately due to timezones, you may not be able to have everyone online for the live voting or reveals. But that can be remedied a bit by giving time for people to be there.

A long game normally goes Tuesday-Friday for prompt submissions, Saturday is dedicated to voting, and Sunday will be the reveal!

Short games can do the same as above but maybe at hour intervals instead. 2-3 hours for submissions, an hour for voting, then reveal! Third, once you have your prompt and time frame, now it's time to let players know! Make a post or @ your friends so that they can play!

Fourth, collect all of the submissions in a Google doc and then organize the submissions by round order. That way you aren't digging for a prompt through Discord messages or google docs. It's all ready to go!

Fifth, when you have all of your submissions, it's time to make a Google form! Make an assessment and create as many questions as there are rounds with the players' names as the answers. Make sure to turn off 'shuffle option order'

Because this will move all the answers around and that is unnecessarily confusing.

Next go to settings and make it a quiz! But turn the other options off

Turning off missed questions, correct answers and point values makes it so the players don't see what they got after they submit their answers. They won't know until you reveal it all at the end! Now all you have to do is wait for voting time!

Sixth, Now it's time for the players to vote and they get to gush over what they are reading while chaos begins. Post the excerpts at hour intervals to give the players a chance to discuss among themselves. This is where they will try to throw the other off the scent of their work or try sus out the author. It's a lot of fun to watch :3

Lastly, reveals. Once voting is done, you can go into the Google form and see how everyone did! Calculate the points and figure out if you have a winner! When you have the points calculated, release the results of Who Wrote That one round at a time. Reveal who the author of that excerpt was along with who all got it right! Continue this by giving some time between results so the players can tease each other until all of the reveals are done and you announce the winner!

Congrats! You just hosted a game of Who Wrote That?! ! :3

Disclaimer: Google docs is mainly mentioned because most of the games have been running via co-hosting. With google docs, we can share the excerpts that both of us have gotten easily to one another. However, if you are hosting on your own, then any doc program should work just fine.

[avalencias]

red moon rising….

[dykittynya]

i love getting all drippy before mommy gets home so i can lift up my skirt and show off my hard work <3

sitting in skimpy clothing or lingerie or nothing but a collar while he changes into comfy clothes

playing with my tits while he smokes cuz he asked and being rewarded for being so good with fingers teasing my clit before we go back to sit down

[cyberllfe]

Hi. I'm the ghost that likes to read your stuff. I just read Made For Me, and it was quite the fun ride. I unfortunately cannot leave you a quality review, as I am no wordsmith, but you did inspire me to dust off this fic I was working on:

Like I said, writing isn't my forte. In theory, I can discern what divides quality smut from an attempt that has room for growth. In practice it's a bit harder to demonstrate (laughs). My writing reeks of amateur, but just maybe, you can have an iota of fun like I did reading your stuff.

ashdksuds YELLING

thank you!! I’m so pleased you enjoyed tailor nines, but not only that, you brought me a SNIPPET? you have my curiosity and my attention. I LOVE the vibe of this. The tension! The immediacy! His commanding presence 😏 sounds to me like someone’s caused a little trouble and is about to find out the consequences ✨

thank you, again, bc it’s lovely to receive this sort of thing. it always means a lot to have a work enjoyed, but to inspire another writer is even better. no such thing as too many filthy hot fics 😌

just one thing: I think you’re selling yourself pretty short, honestly. being an amateur isn’t the same as being a Bad Writer™, and besides “good” writing is so subjective (especially within fandom) that it’s not the most useful label. I think what we as part of a fandom look for is the heart you find in fic, and that comes from an author pouring part of themselves into it in a way you don’t always get with the source material. write what you want, what you enjoy, and it’ll reach other people who’ll enjoy it too.

you should count me among them 👀

[dullahandyke]

-_-

[mikkeneko]

If I can add one tip about how to write characters' emotional journeys over time, based on my experience both in real life and in writing:

The number one cause of emotional conflict is when people feel an emotion that, for whatever social or personal reason, they don't think they are permitted to feel.

There can be a hundred reasons why they feel like they aren't 'permitted' -- maybe it's a gender socialization issue, maybe it runs afoul of a social taboo, maybe they feel like they're in the wrong in whatever the conflict is and so they are obliged to defer to the other party's hurt feelings over their own, maybe this is a maladaptive coping mechanism where in the past they've suffered consequences for feeling and expressing the feeling, so now they don't dare.

This conflict, this dissonance, between what they think they 'should' feel and what they ACTUALLY DO feel can manifest in a hundred different directions, and drives a lot of seemingly irrational behaviors, but if your characters are not doing it, why aren't they? Are they really that perfectly in tune with their emotions? Or have you as a writer just not identified what the underlying emotion really is?

That post that's like "stop writing characters who talk like they're trying to get a good grade in therapy" really blew the door wide open for me about how common it's become for a character's emotional intelligence to not be taken into consideration when writing conflict. I remember the first time I went to therapy I had such a hard time even identifying what I was feeling, let alone had the language to explain it to someone else. Of course there are plenty of people who've never been to therapy a day in their life who are in tune to their emotions. But even they would have some trouble expressing themselves sometimes. You have to take into account there are plenty of people who are uncomfortable expressing themselves and people who think they're not allowed to feel certain ways. It also makes for more interesting conflict to have characters with different levels of understanding.

[akajustmerry]

I feel like those of us who are longtime Video Essay Enjoyers™ have been aware something was suss about James Summerton (I remember when Lawrence called out Somerton for stealing their Hannibal essay years ago) for a while. But I think it's cynical to reduce Hbomberguy's vid to just a "dunk" when it's more of an odyssey railing against how influencer and content culture devalues the work of culture critics, academics, and activists. As Harris said, it's not a problem exclusive to Somerton, but a corrosive attitude baked into late capitalist "content" culture. The video is a clear exploration of the consequences of all media and art being flattened into "content" creates a system where the labor of marginalised creatives and storytellers are exploited and stolen by people with more privileges and resources. As someone who has witnessed rich tiktokers quote articles and posts I've written verbatim without credit to make money from their 1000s of followers, this video hit super hard for me. From James Somerton claiming the works of dead gay activists, to Charli D'Amelio building a career from stealing dances created by Black tiktokers - plagiarism is often inseparable from discrimination and exploitation of labor rights. Harris' video is about how the nature of influencer content culture has further exacerbated the exploitative systems that already existed, wrapped up as YouTuber drama analysis. But I hope people don't miss the forest for the trees and remember you should always be citing your sources, fact checking, and be very wary of people who don't. And for the love of God, please stop getting your information exclusively from video essays, tiktoks and podcasts.

[foldingfittedsheets]

The location of the sex shop I worked was a haven for spiders. We had tall ceilings and skylights and unused storage rooms. It was a spider paradise. We quickly sussed out which coworkers to call on in case of emergency. The Dorito lady was a solid ally for spiders but absolutely petrified of moths.

But there’s actually a hierarchy of fear. Most people don’t realize. The person least afraid is the one forced to deal with the bug in question. If coworker B was scared, but coworker A was petrified, well coworker B was gonna have to screw their courage to the sticking place because by the law of fear they were the most competent person on scene.

Thus enters Rick. Rick first appeared in the back storage room. This room doubled as a second bathroom so we went in on a semi frequent basis. The girl who’d gone in to pee shot out again gibbering with fear about the biggest spider she’d ever seen had just run across her boot.

We sicced Dorito lady on it. She returned, shaking her head. “He was squatting on a power cord where it plugs in. I couldn’t get a clean shot at Rick.”

“Rick?”

She shrugged. “Spiders that big need a name. Seemed like a Rick.”

Rick, freshly named, became a store menace. I’d normally say this was probably a case of multiple spiders being mistaken for one but everyone who encountered him swore up and down there could be no mistake. This spider was massive, fast, and distinct. A gladiator among arachnids.

I never encountered Rick. His exploits grew in the telling but the theme was consistent: no one could kill him. He’d hunker in places that no one could reach and dart away when a strike missed. He also chased off the more faint hearted, charging them in bold dashes. There could be no benign cup transplant to remove Rick from the premise. He was not leaving.

The saga of Rick continued for two months. Not seeing him was almost worse, a fearful wariness when going to the bathroom or stepping into quieter areas. I waited with dread, hoping my eventual run in would have me on shift with Dorito lady to protect me.

It was not to be. There was a girl the same who hated my one moment of singing that was absolute piss-herself scared of spiders. She’d slam straight into a panic attack and couldn’t think or speak. And so it was that one night on shift, I heard her scream.

It was unmistakable. I was in the front window turning off the open sign. Through an obstacle course of mannequins and lingerie I performed an acrobatic sprint out of the window, darting up to find her quivering at the front counter, fully crying. I radiated calm at her and said, “Just point.”

I knew it was Rick. Our destinies were intertwined and we had always been pulled toward the inexorable battle that was drawing nigh.

Her hand raised to point to our sandwich board sign at the front of the store. So Rick had the metaphorical high ground. There was no quick easy strike on the slanted signs surface.

I armed myself and marched into battle, my knuckles white on my chosen weapon. I would do this, because I must. Because there was no one else. And because I wanted to close and go home.

I saw Rick immediately and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a bigger spider since. Outside of a tarantula, he was truly the most massive spider I’ve ever beheld outside a zoo enclosure or terrarium.

We regarded each other. Rick launched off the sign toward me and I stomped my foot reflexively, making him pause in his charge. Then I raised my weapon. Anything else, I believe Rick could have evaded. He’d bested most of the store thus far. But I had chosen chemical warfare.

I doused the shit out of that spider with cleaning spray, stunning him with a barrage of chemicals. While he froze, choking on the unexpected deluge, I dropped a paper towel over him. My foot came down.

I felt his exoskeleton crunch and I can feel it still to this day. The shattering was as of bones and I truly mourned that we had been forced into senseless war. If only he has cleaved tighter to the shadows. If only he’d crawled willing into a cup for relocation. I released a full body shudder of horror, fear, and adrenaline as I stepped back.

I took several quivering breaths. I donned a veneer of calm and tidied the battlefield of it’s corpse then went to reassure my coworker that all was well, while internally I still shook.

You fought well, Rick. I hope you sired many more monstrous children to haunt retail workers in the years to come. Rest in valor, you monster.

[luveline]

grumpy hotch x pregnant reader where he is just having an off day and the team calls reader in to deal with him and as soon she arrives in his office he just holds her and her belly as she scratches his scalp omg 🥹😭🫶🏻

You’re lounging in your husband's favourite chair with a book and an ice cold soda in your hand when your phone rings. You almost knock your tooth out pulling it up to your face without looking, wanting it to be Aaron, knowing it probably won’t be. Maternity leave can be excruciatingly boring. 

“Hello?” you ask. Your book slides down your bump. You pull it back up. 

“Hi, mom.”  

You grin to yourself. “Hi, Emily. Please tell me you’re calling because you miss me and you know I have cabin fever.” 

“I’m calling because someone misses you.” Her ire tone is unmissable and ever endearing. “I do miss you, I can’t wait for you to have your stinking baby and come back to work.” 

“That would be fun, right? We’ll get Hotch on paternity leave.” 

“It’s him I’m calling about.” 

“Is he okay?” you ask. You know if he were injured she would’ve mentioned that first. You’re not so scared of his being grumpy. 

“Moody as ever. I can’t believe I’m asking you to, but would you consider coming in for lunch? I’ll send a car, no walking, but he could really use it. He’s been biting off heads all morning.” Emily laughs down the line. “You’re the only one who can cheer him up.” 

It’s not true, but you are usually the quickest. You bid Emily goodbye with a promise to be there soon and get dressed, with no choice but to wear some maternity pants and a peplum blouse. Any excuse to see your haggard husband is one you’ll take. 

You look at your bump and you love the baby in there, but it feels weird sometimes to see yourself differently. If Aaron weren’t as nice about it as he is, you would’ve broken down by now; he’s sussed many breakdowns before they could begin, kissed fingertips and collars promising you’re just as pretty as always. And it’s reassuring, but it isn’t pretty that worries you. You’re a genuine walking beach ball right now. 

The car Emily promises is none other than Anderson himself. “He’s bullying you?” you ask him. 

He doesn’t say yes or no, but his smile is enough of a clue. You can’t get to the BAU quick enough (though you’re slower these days), pushing open the glass door with a tired sign. 

Spencer comes across you first by coincidence. “Hey!” he says, ushering you in for a hug, his cup of coffee hot behind your shoulder. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.” 

“He’s in a mood,” you say. Not without fondness. 

Spencer grimaces. “Sort of.” 

Emily attacks you from the side. “Thank god you’re here! I think he just told Morgan to go fuck himself,” she says under her breath. 

She’s just saying it to make you laugh, and it works. It’s vaguely out of character, but if you know Emily, you know she has a crass, often dirty-minded side, and it’s been a while since you’ve heard her swear. You’re still giggling when the door you’d been making your way to opens. 

Aaron emerges with an expression half bemusement and half confusion. “Honey?” 

“My love,” you say, too quiet for him to properly hear, but he can read lips just fine. 

He rushes in a very gentlemanly display down the steps to help you up them, but you’d only been going up them to see him, and you stop at the foot of them with your hand raised to his elbow. “Hey, handsome.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Nothing. Just missed you, wanted to have dinner, and I figured you couldn’t say no. You know.” You touch your tummy. “Considering.” 

He peers suspiciously past your head. “Yeah?” 

You look where he’s looking, find Emily and Spencer not so subtly turned away. You laugh again, pleased when the sound makes him smile. “Come on. Take me to your office.” 

He puts a hand behind your shoulders and leads you upstairs to his office. There are papers strewn haphazard across the front of the desk, his briefcase open and muddled, his pen lost within the mess. You’re smug knowing he’d been knee deep in paperwork but abandoned it all when he heard you laughing, like he just couldn’t miss it. 

“Let me sit you down,” he says. 

“Woah, slow your roll. Why are you stressed?” 

He blinks at you. “There’s a lot to do?” 

“Sure, but why are you stressed about me? I can sit down by myself.” 

He must look at you for five whole seconds without saying a word, and the door’s not closed, there’s no answer to your question, and then he takes you into his arms for a hug. “I know you can,” he says. 

It’s admittedly hard to hug him with the bump between you. You worry you’re hurting him as your cheeks press together, crushing his shoulders under your hands. 

He usually asks first, but he knows by now that you’re two halves of the same heart, two sides of the same coin, his hand slipping between you both to nudge aside your shirt and feel your stomach. 

You close your eyes. 

“Rough day?” you ask. 

“A lot to do…” His face moves down into your neck. 

You know what he wants, moving your hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers into his hair. “I can fix it,” you say sympathetically, beginning a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp. 

“How’s that?” 

“If I go into labour right now, you get a reprieve.” 

“Honey, in the most loving sense possible, you going into labour now would not be ideal.” 

“It’s gonna happen one day, babe. And you’re gonna be just as busy then. You need to take less on or–”

“No, I know.” 

His hand slides still under your shirt to your hip, encouraging you away from him, his eyes flitting up and down your figure, checking you over. You let your hand fall to his shoulder, fingertips interested in the starchy fabric of a new suit. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly, dipping down to give you a kiss. His eyes are dark, so close. “That helped. What can I get you for dinner?” 

You give a fond, pitying smile. You’re not gonna get him out of this office today, that’s for sure. “Half your sandwich, probably.” 

He kisses you again. You take it for a thank you. 

[meganegatari]

THE WAY YOU WRITE IS JUST SO YUMMM so yeah🧍🏻‍♀️can you write something about streamer ellie <33

☆: IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. definitelyyyy hasn't been...months...anyway. positive this is one of the worse things i've written, but didn't wanna leave you hanging forever! ngl it's pretty filthy..heh.

◇: 18+ pretend those twitch guideline things don't exist. remote control vibrator use, orgasm denial, sub-ish!ellie?? plot twist at the end bc i think im so funny. 1.6k wc. don't mind the layout of this idk what else to do...

You watch your girlfriend stream her game from your fluffy and comfortable spot on your shared bed—you observe how focused she was on her screen, how her skilled fingers were flying across the keyboard and mouse. It would certainly be a shame to disturb her in such a high tension moment but you think it over, running your finger over the small buttons of the sleek little remote in your hand.

"Yeah, yeah, got 'em! Look at that guys, I fuckin’ aced that!" Ellie rejoices in her victory, and gleefully boasts to her viewers, adjusting her microphone closer and leaning back in her chair.

You're glad you were far off camera, her fans didn't even know she was in a relationship—Ellie made it clear she wanted you to be separate from her hobbies, not because she wanted to keep you a secret, but because she wanted to keep you safe. And you enjoyed watching her stream from the sidelines like this, you saw how her personality captivated viewers and how much fun she really was. But you also enjoyed messing with her on the occasion. Like today.

"Can I watch tonight's stream again?" You asked her eagerly. "Yeah, why not? I'll be doing some tournaments and stuff though, so no distractions." Oops. You bit back a laugh. Ellie immediately sussed out the mischievous look on your face and she sighed, expecting the worst.

Then you showed her the box you've been hiding, "Please let's try, I won't click it too much, I promise." She stared at you for a whole minute, maybe more, before sighing and reluctantly agreeing, rubbing her hands all over her face. "God, fine. Just 'cause I love you. Damn you're evil."

Fast forward to now—the device was snugly inserted inside her pretty pussy, tested out to prove it does in fact work, and works well at that.

So off Ellie went to play her game, getting so caught up in everything she seemingly forgot about the device entirely. In between games she was talking to the viewers, reading the chat and joking back and forth. You decided it was a good enough time to click it so you pressed the button, only for a miniscule zap.

She jerked in her seat, gasping, but quickly recovered with a strategic cough. "Phew sorry guys, something got caught in my throat." You saw a bright berry blush spread across her face, and the way she fought to turn and throw a glare at you. This was going to be fun.

"Alright, the next round’s gonna start, we gotta lock in! Hopefully nothing pops up and this goes smoothly. I can taste the win already.” She put a certain warning tone to her voice in the last part of her sentence, you knew it was meant for you, but were you going to listen? Absolutely not. "Oh yeah chat fun fact, this old area of the map was inspired by ancient ruins just of—ah!" As if her body had a mind of its own, she squirmed in her seat and she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a moan when you hit it again, but this time you didn't turn it off right away. You kept it going for a few more seconds, to prolong the terribly delicious sensation.

She screwed her eyes shut tightly and held her breath until you turned it off, mumbling to her viewers about "having hiccups". "The game is starting now, so we really gotta get serious." Her voice had an unsteadiness to it only you could hear, she was keeping her composure rather well so far. But likely wouldn't be able to keep up the act for much longer. Even she has her limits.

As her match went on, she got quiet when she was focused, mashing the keys with a speed fast as sound. Of course, you hit it again, just a short one, causing a choked "guh" to escape from her lips and she twitched when you did so, her facade starting to crack. The effort to keep her voice stable was showing, she was huffing and struggling to get her words out clearly, they were laced with obvious irritation.

"Fuck missed the shot, dammit. Yeah I don't know, somethings up today, sorry guys...off my game." You decided to be nice to her until the game ended, not pressing it further or adjusting the intensity. She played for a little while longer before losing the match, leaning forward on the desk with her face in her hands. This was the perfect moment, so you cranked it up, increased the intensity to maximum, and held the button for the longest time yet, making her whine—a low, drawn out sound she couldn't stifle this time.

You could hear lots of messages being sent, pings in rapid succession, they were probably clipping that moment. Perverts, you thought. 

Her chest was noticeably heaving up and down, her legs spread as she rocks her front against the chair, and she kept her head lowered until you decreased the intensity but didn't turn it all the way off. Her hands were shaking, and her face was a vibrant cherry red, the screen even reflected the sparkle of a couple tears in her eyes.

“What? Oh, I'm just so sad about the loss guys, we were so close—hnn- so…so closeahh—I mean, we should've gotten that…” She trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip and tapping her fingers on the desk’s wooden surface. “Y’know what, I'll be right back.” She paused the stream, made triple sure her camera and microphone were turned off, then whipped around in her chair to face you, glaring silver daggers your way.

You just giggled innocently and turned the device off again. “What the fuck is wrong with you, this shit is not- not light on you at all.” Her voice was breaking, her pretty features contorted in a beautifully needy expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all watery. Nearly as wet as the mess in her pants. You feigned innocence and shrugged at her, “Well I didn't know it was that strong.” “You knew damn well.” She's fed up with your antics, but you have fun playing with her. She covers her face and leans back in the chair, the embarrassment in her voice the only thing you could hear, “Fuck you...turn it up again, wanna cum.”

You couldn't contain the laugh that burst forth from your chest, then said, “Only if you stream it.” The shock that flickered across her face was priceless, you wish you could have snapped a photo.

“What the fuck do you mean by that, nah forget it.”

“Hey, you gotta finish your stream either way, they're waiting. Would you wanna be so awful and deprive those darlings of your presence?”

You flash her a sugary smile, and she shoots you a murderous look again, before wordlessly scooting back to her setup, fanning herself briefly and readjusting her coppery hair.

Then she turns the stream back on. “Sorry guys, I had to get up for a second. Anyway, let's play one more game. I'm getting kinda tired today. Let's make this one count, lock in like never before.” She takes a deep breath, cracks her knuckles, and begins smacking away at the keyboard buttons. You're able to see the way she looks tense, on edge, anticipating your devilish interruption.

You debate whether you should torture her, but the answer quickly becomes clear. Click.

“Ah—fuck!” She sputters, and roughly slams her fist on the desk. The pleasure was hitting her with full force, she was in her own, lewd, world now. Her head is thrown back, back arched and hips stuttering, the release was about to sneak up on her.

You watch the scenario unfold, licking your lips and pressing your thighs together to deal with the pressure between them. Her unapologetic moans get louder, but for a second she snaps out of the trance to sit back upright, turn the stream off, before the peak hits her like a truck.

“Holy, fu—hah!!” With a squeal she cums, not caring about how fucking loud she was being, wanting to be selfishly absorbed in ecstasy.

She started to jolt around in her seat, the throes of overstimulation making her whimper like an animal in heat, it truly was a sight to behold. You wish you were in between her legs, lapping up her sweetness straight from the source, but in a way, just watching from the sidelines was satisfying enough. You'll clean her up afterward.

Finally you turned it off once and for all, and gazed at her, she was panting heavily, the post-orgasm glow making her rosy skin shimmer in the low light.

“Hmmm, thanks babe, that was so good…” She tried to talk, her head was in the clouds, but she looked at peace.

“You're a whore.” You chortled, and you two shared a laugh.

Although, a flurry of shrill sounds brought you both out of the fantasy. Ping, ping, ping.

Unfortunately she wasn't able to enjoy the aftermath of a mind-numbing session, because her eyes shot open and she began scrambling to find the source of the sound. Your stomach dropped as you watched her panic, her neuroticism infectious.

She looked at you, her eyes wider than saucers, nothing but fear in her voice, “I wasn't able to turn my mic off…”

What was she going to do now?

if you'd like to be tagged in my fics, click here! thank you for reading. asks, reblogs, and comments are appreciated more than you know. ♡

tags: @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @ashaynep @mascdom @xysbree @liddysflyer @fortune777 @brunaedn @bunnitewsilly @mimasroom2 @deliriousrn @infiniteinquiries @thekill3randthefinalgirl @kissyslut @elliesapple

[everythingmp3]

in an empty theater

adult!Van x fem!reader

the night you decide to try out a new cinema, you have a run-in with the owner which leads to something more than just talking about films - the second time you see her, things take a turn: she finds a way to mix work and pleasure with you

authors note: hi! I liked the idea of giving her a different but similar job to the one she actually has in the show, so this came of that :) it´s a bit of a slow-burn but definitely turns intense eventually! its a bit longer (around 10k) bc I wanted to make it a fleshed out story, so yeah, hope you enjoy <3

warnings: smut (reader receiving), sort of public sex

sometimes, the simplest decision have the most long-lasting, unexpectedly beautiful effects, which was the case for you when you decided to take the longer way home one night.

in the coming weeks and months, you´d come to look back at it and thank your younger self for the spontaneity there, because otherwise you might have never ended up getting together with Van. 

after a long exhausting day, you´d dreaded the idea of passing by all the familiar places on your way home yet again, so you decided to take a different route and came by a place which you´d never heard of before, even though you´d been living in your college town for over a year by then: a cinema.

it was well-hidden amongst other houses in a street that you usually had no reason to walk down, but just from a quick glance inside, you could tell it was different than the big commercial cinemas that you were familiar with. it had a living room vibe, the light was cozy, not just yellow but pink and red and orange too, you could hear people laughing from outside, the place seemed inviting, so you memorized the name and looked it up once you were back home. 

to your delight, the cinema prided itself on showing not just new releases, but re-runs of older films, all kinds of genres, both from a few years ago and dating back to the first half of the 1900s. you spotted a film that you´d always told yourself you should watch, a cult classic from the 90s, which they were showing during the weekend, so you got a ticket and decided to check the place out, to enjoy a quiet night by yourself, after feeling like you were reliving the same day over and over in the middle of a semester than seemed to drag on without an end in sight. 

come Saturday night, you made your way there and lingered in the lobby before the film started, sussing out the vibe. the cinema was larger than it looked on the outside, the scent of popcorn lingered in the air and the faint murmur of the people around you allowed you to just sit there for a while and relax, the setting sun casting golden light through the tall windows near the entrance. the interior design was very clearly a labor of love, posters of all kinds of popular films adorning the walls, one large wall painted in a deep burgundy color that offered an almost sensual atmosphere, faint music playing over the speakers, people standing by the counter and getting drinks and snacks, a distinctly familiar feel to it, as if most of the people there were returning guests, knew each other, had a ritual of coming back each week.

the film was even better than you´d expected, you sat in a back row and the two hours flew by, a comfortable dazed feeling to you once you walked out of the theatre again and felt your eyes adjusting to the light. for some reason, you didn´t feel like leaving yet, so you stood by a table and took one of the flyers that were scattered on it, scanning their program for the coming weeks and approving of nearly all the films you were seeing, except for two, which struck you as out of place, very far from your taste. 

you weren´t aware of anyone´s eyes being on you, so you didn´t make an attempt to conceal the grimace that settled over you face as you got hung up it for a second, “you don´t approve, hm?”, you heard someone say and looked up.

a woman had silently made her way up to you and stood there smiling, gesturing at the flyer in your hand. you didn´t respond immediately because when you met her eyes you were struck by her appearance: she was about twice your age, more or less, her bright ginger hair falling down over a white shirt that was tucked into cut off jeans shorts, her face and arms both freckles and bronzed from the spring sun she´d been getting, her lips shining as if she´d just applied a balm to them, her eyes bright and open. 

you composed yourself a little as she cocked her head and waited for an answer. “no, no I do, most of these are great picks really, but there are just one or two that strike me as odd, film bro stuff, not exactly what I´d put with the others” . 

you wondered why she was talking to you, if this was her attempt at flirting, but she didn´t seem like she was just trying to hit on you, not really, not yet at least. “ah I see” she said, her tone lower then, “well, this is your chance to tell the owner what you´d like to see instead” a smug grin to her then, which confused you at first, but then it dawned on you: she was in fact the owner of the place. she wasn´t joking. you felt a flush of embarrassment rush to your face and shook your head “oh god sorry, I didn´t-” but to your relief she clearly wasn´t offended at all, quite the opposite, she seemed amused, a quiet laugh escaping her before she stepped a little closer “dont´worry, I´m messing with you, I leave the program to my younger employees, so it´s them who might be pressed about that, not me. I´m pretty out of touch with what people wanna see, if we showed my favorites it would be bad for business, so yeah”. 

you watched her, charmed by her energy and gave an understanding nod, “I see, well they´re doing a good job, I´d say. mostly” you added the last word with a smile, which she returned “mostly, yes” her eyes not leaving yours, not even for a split second, an almost unnerving quality to her unwavering attention, one that wasn´t unwelcomed by you, just unexpected, your heart beating faster than it did before she´d appeared. 

“besides-” she added, “I like when people come here and have strong opinions, even if they´re hating on something, much better than if they don´t pay attention and just let it wash over them, forget about it immediately”. as she spoke, you started to smell her perfume, a mix of woody and musky notes with something fresh and spicy in there too that briefly delayed your answer, once again, your gaze drawn to where she was pushing her hair back out of her face, perhaps to show off he arms, her hands, before you nodded and answered “right, watching something just to log it on Letterboxd”.

the last word seemed to have an instant effect on her because the second it hit her ears, she groaned and closed her eyes, as if she was in pain. “oh my fucking god, don´t even get me started… they´ve been trying to convince me to get on that damn app for ages, but I refuse, I hate the whole rating system, it´s rotting people´s brains, truly”. 

her sudden passionate outburst was cute you, it suited her, drew you in, gave you a clue about her personality: old school, someone who probably hated all kinds of social media, so you messed with her a bit and said “really? you´re not on there arguing with people in the comments? no?”. she feigned exasperation “wow is that the vibe I give off??” her eyebrows raised, her arms crossed. you enjoyed the sight for a few seconds before you shrugged and said “maybe”. she clutched her heart and sighed “ouch”, a moment of shared silence then, both of you trying your best not to check the other one out too obviously, restraint necessary in order for you not to stare at her exposed legs, her knees, to not follow the desire to see if they were as freckled as her arms, her face, her nose. 

“but uh-” she said, quieter then, stepping even closer, as if she was trying to conspire with you, “which film would you show instead? tell me” “oh and while you’re at it, tell me your name as well, I’m Van”. by that point, you were pretty sure that she was actually showing interest, and not just attempting to gain a new regular guest, which thrilled you but also made you feel weak, at risk of seeming flustered, the sudden, out of nowhere pursuit by someone who was actually your type, more than anyone who´d ever tried to hit on you in public. so, you thought about it for a second, licked your lips, half on purpose, role her your name and mused “well, that´s tough, I mean out of all films to pick a few.. I have my favorites of course, I could selfishly say those”

“I´m listening” Van interrupted, clearly eager to see where your taste leaned towards, so you you named a few that came to mind, and seemed to pass a test as she gave brief approvals like “love that one” or “underrated, yeah” to a few of the films that you loved. you were trying to keep her with you for longer, so you went on and shared some ideas you had for which films would work well together thematically if they were shown during the same month, how one might advertise it to the audience, some ideas you´d had before. Van was listening intently with her arms crossed, her eyes sparkling, until you cut yourself off to not venture in rambling territory, even though she definitely wouldn´t have minded. 

“damn, you´ve really thought about this stuff, huh?” she praised, nodding in a way that said “I like this”. “you looking for a job by chance?” she joked, “no, afraid not, but I´ll gladly talk about it for free”. she seemed to get the underlying message there “I wanna talk to you again” but didn´t acknowledge it directly, instead giving you a knowing look and saying “very generous” with a low, almost sensual tone, that made warmth that spread through you at the sound. barely a few inches were separating you and her, a subtle move of your arm might have made your hands brush, so you kept your body at an angle where an accidental touch might happen as you glanced around and used to chance to compliment her, genuinely, “this is a nice place by the way, you did well here, I´m lingering because it´s a much better vibe than back home, my roommates are pissing me off” you told her, a sigh towards the end of the sentence that seemed to endear her, she kept eyeing you and made a sympathetic “hmm” sound. 

“well I´m glad then, I do like to think we´re a kind of safe haven, a refuge of some sort, ideally” she sounded more earnest then, “you are” you insisted and saw a hint of shyness flicker through the tough facade, which only made you find her more intriguing and it struck you in that moment that it was pretty flattering, to be approached by the owner of the place like that and to have her standing with you as other guests left the theatre while she didn´t seem to be in a rush to leave, at all, even though it was late and it seemed like they´d be closing soon.  

just as you were thinking this, two workers behind the counter who was clearly facing some kind of issue with register called out her name, which made her whip her head and yell “I´ll be right there, just a sec”, as you stood there, shifting your weight from one leg on the other, only then realizing that you´d frozen in the attempt not to fidget or show any sign of awkwardness.

Van sighed and turned back to face you again, “well, my kids need me, sorry to cut you off like this, but don´t feel rushed to leave, stay as long as you want, we´re not closing til 10, and maybe I´ll see you again soon, yeah?” she seemed hopeful, almost as if she was pleading, so you gave her reassurance “yeah for sure, I´ll be back”, “on a night where it´s not a “film bro” one, I assume?” she teased, echoing your earlier words as she turned to leave. “yes exactly” you said and returned her wave goodbye. before you left the room, you glanced over at her one last time as she joined her stressed out workers to help and the way she´d called them her “kids, people who were your age, even though she´d clearly been flirting with you, admittedly a turn-on, in a strange but intense way, the age difference 

the sight of her flame colored hair falling down the the pale fabric of her shirt got burned into your mind as you left the cinema and made your way back home, wondering what she´d have said if you hadn´t been interrupted, how bold she would have been, if she´d asked for you number, so you promised yourself to get over any nerves or hesitation you might feel and to return to her place of work as soon as possible, waiting a few days though, to not seem overly eager for a second meeting, even though you were, even though something told you she might be as well. 

any of the stress you had felt during the week was eclipsed by the buzz you felt walking down the street then, the cool evening air offering contrast to how warm your body had gotten from Van´s undivided close attention, she hadn´t even touched you, and yet you felt like you already knew what it felt like, to have her hands on you, perhaps because you´d felt it, her unfulfilled desiree to reach out, to do more than just talk, look at you.

as you laid in bed that night you pressed your own palm against the small of your back, imagining that it was her, caressing your own skin in a gentle up and down motion, conjuring up the phantom of her perfume, breathing in deeply, as if she was there with you, as if you could actually smell her, feel her, a faint sigh falling from your lips before you stopped yourself from getting too lost in fantasies up to fall asleep, still, you prayed you´d dream of her, that your psyche would gift you with something that felt real, that would leave you aching to return to your subconscious upon opening your eyes the next morning. it had been ages since anyone had stirred your imagination the way she had and you had no good way of explaining why, she just got to you, immediately. 

the next few days you found yourself thinking back to it, the exchange you´d had, her deep voice, her pretty face, the mix of vibe of toughness and gentility that she gave of every time you had a quiet moment to yourself, when you sat on the train and stared out of the window, when you were cooking, standing in the shower, your mind always wandered back to her, lead you to both tender and visceral daydreams of her, so in the middle of week, late at night when you couldn´t sleep, you pulled up the website of the cinema on your phone just to see if they´d added anything interesting - you knew that the next film you were planning to see was being screened on Sunday, but still, you took a look, just out of curiosity and what you found, made you freeze up, wondering if you had lost your mind from sleeplessness and were starting to imagine things, but you weren´t, it was real, glowing brightly on your screen: they´d changed the program. one of the films that you´d hated on had been swapped out for one your favorites, one of the films that you´d mentioned to Van mere days before. 

for a brief second you tried to find a way to dismiss it as pure coincidence, you were trying to keep yourself from giving into the intense excitement that you felt bubbling up inside, but it was simply too obvious: she had gone out of her way to change things, to get rid of a film you didn´t approve of and not to replace it with just anything, but specifically a film you´d praised in front of her, probably in hopes that you´d see it, that you´d come back, that she´d get to see you again, earlier than planned. 

after staring at your screen in disbelief for a few minutes, giddy and a little shocked by her bold move, you picked a seat, bought a ticket and lost another half hour of sleep over the sheer surrealism of the situation, the idea of Van finding a way to tell her team that there was a last minute change, having to come up with a reason other than the truth: that she was trying to charm a girl. that she wasn´t doing it for the crowd, for cinephiles who might enjoy it, but specifically for you. 

the next night, you got ready as if you were getting ready for a date, even though you didn´t even know where she´d be, if she´d be there, and told yourself to be chill, to not walk into the venue looking around for her like a lost puppy, but to act the way you usually would, to keep to yourself and let your paths cross naturally, perhaps the way it did before, her quietly appearing next to you out of nowhere, since you liked it, the feeling of being in the middle of a crowd, unaware of someone´s gaze, only to feel your breath hitch when they join you, as if you´d been waiting for them all along, for her. 

you entered the cinema around fifteen minutes before the film was set to start, so you wouldn´t have to stand around awkwardly for too long in case she was busy, but to have enough time to go freshen up, get something to drink maybe, and see what would happen. your wait for a reunion was cut short when you stood by a wall near the entrance to take a look around the room and were met by a familiar smile when you glanced over to the spot where a group of people was gathered, who you took to be regulars, talking to her and a few other workers. 

she didn´t even hesitate a second before excusing herself and walking over to you, and somehow she looked even better than you remembered, she had similar cut off jeans on as before, since it was already pretty warm out for early spring, but this time she wasnt wearing a loose tshirt, she was in a thin white tanktop and an unbuttoned short sleeve flannel instead, dark green, a beautiful contrast to her hair color. you tried your best not to stare at her chest and wondered if she´d done the same thing as you: dressing a certain way on purpose, not for herself but for you. 

you took a deep shuddering breath out and told yourself to act casual as she kept smiling and took her place about an arm´s length across from you, hands in her pockets, eyeing you in a way that seemed even more intense than the first time, the glow of success enhancing her beauty.

“hey there” she said “was hoping I might see you tonight”. you grinned at that way of putting it, her not explicitly acknowledging what she´d done to lure you back there, so you were to the one to mention it first. 

“don´t tell me you did that just because of what I said” you said, even though you both knew the truth and gave each other charged glances, felt something like sparks, before she shifted her stance, caressed her own arm, put on a faux-dismissive tone “oh no, pure coincidence, nothing to do with you at all”, a tingling sensation on your skin at the sound of her teasing, the flicker of mischief in her eyes that somehow made her look like she was your age for a moment, a girl who´d get you in trouble, not a woman who could be your mother. 

you were the first to be bold and say something outside of subtext “I was kinda shocked when I saw that, I wont lie. feels a bit cheap to say thank you for something like that, but thank you, I’m flattered”. Van waved it off but couldn´t hide the touch of bashfulness that softened her demeanor, “oh well, you made good points and I felt like shaking things up a bit, so, used my authority there for once. and you´re welcome” she drew the last two words out, barely above a whisper, your knees almost giving in at the sound, which visibly pleased her, so she didn´t break eye-contact, watched you fold a little, enjoyed it. “and besides -” she continued, gesturing around at the groups of people that were filling up the room, “seems like I´m benefitting from your input, so”, you nodded and imitated her tone from early when you gave her a quiet but earnest “my pleasure” in response. 

both of you wanted to say more but neither of you wanted to ruin the thrill of suspense by straight up asking “should we go on a date sometime?” at least not yet, so Van found a different strategy, she touched your arm, a feathery barely-there brush of her fingertips that raised your body temperature  instantly as she said “you know what let me repay you actually, we have this strawberry lemonade that´s pretty fucking good, and you should drink something, it´s warm in here, wait a second” before she hurried off to go behind the counter and get you something for free. the sight of her plopping open the bottle’s lid with ease pulled your focus to her hands, her fingers, a pressing need to feel them, properly.

she grabbed something else before losing no time and getting back to you, holding out the light pink drink for you.

Van didn´t avert her gaze as you took a sip, shamelessly savoring the view, pleased when you made a “hm” sound and said “yeah, that´s really good”. “here, take these too, chocolate pairs well with that I think” making you hold your hand out, but instead of just dropping the pack of sweets, she shook your hand in a way, closed her fingers around yours in a way that wasn´t necessary, which nearly made you cling to her but she withdrew her hand just before you could give yourself away. 

you smiled and tried to accept her generosity without ruining it by offering to pay, “I feel pretty spoiled you know, I might just try to move in here”. Van watched you take another sip, her gaze clearly on your lips, not your eyes, and said “we´re open from 2 to 10 most days, so feel free to come by whenever”, somehow making it sound like it wasn´t a joke, not really, so you nodded “I´ll keep it in mind, yes”.

you could smell it again then, her perfume, and tilted your head to be closer, just a little, which she seemed to clock, so she put her hair back behind her shoulder  with one swift motion, a safe way to ensure that even more of her scent would linger in the air, so you took a deep breath and wondered if you should be more forward already but she beat you to it and stepped back as she saw the doors to the theatre open, since the film was starting a few minutes, and told you “okay I´ll leave you to it now, enjoy, but stick around afterwards if you´re not in a rush”, “yeah, sure, I´ll stay” you told her, which brought back the same warm smile she´d greeted you with as she walked away and gestured for you to go ahead and join the people who were queuing to enter the theatre. 

as you settled in your seat and got comfortable, you couldn´t help but wish you were still out there, talking to her, even though you were about to see a film you truly loved on the big screen for the first time, part of you prayed that time would fly because you had no idea how your exchange with her would continue later on, where it would lead, and were dying to find out. 

to your luck, the two hours did in fact pass quickly because were pulled in and moved enough by what was unfolding to briefly forget about her, but only until the film reached its last twenty minutes and you could feel an acute sense of impatience settle over you, so once the credits rolled, you were one of the first people to abandon the room and go outside again, rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the lights. for a moment you wondered if she´d left, since it had gotten late, but then you spotted her sitting on a sofa in a corner that was meant for relaxation, a few armchairs next to it, a coffee table with magazines in front of it.

as you approached her, you realized that this was your turn to do what she had done before: quietly observing. you paused for a second and watched her, the way were brows were furrowed in concentration as she typed something, her lips in a pout, an endearing quality to the way she sat there lost in thought. her shirt was loose enough to reveal part of her shoulder and you felt a sudden pang of need at the sight, “if I was her girl” you thought “I´d sit down next to her and pull the shirt further down to kiss her skin there”, and felt yourself grow warm again, the way you had earlier.

you tried to remain somewhat cool and opted for a tease instead of a simple “hi”, as you stood near where she was sitting, and said “scrolling on tiktok?”, which made her snap out of it and quickly lock her phone to give you her full attention, instinctively standing up up to be on eye-level with you. “yeah you got me, I´m addicted, can´t stop” she joked back. 

“so, how was it? worth your time?” she opened, genuinely interested, so for a few minutes you did actually talk about the film, the main actress, other films of hers you both liked or didn´t like, which lead to a tangent on her part about how much she despises the current re-make and re-boot culture with films, that fire again that you´d seen once before, until she changed the subject and pointed down a hallway nearby

“we actually have an even bigger theatre than the one you just saw, it´s under construction right now, but it should be open in one or two weeks I think. I could show you, if you want”. she sounded shy as she said it, almost as if she was scared of putting you off by suggesting to go into a dark empty room together, unsure if you were actually into her to a degree that made it appealing, but you killed those worries by giving a confident “yeah sure, show me” in return, so she shook her nerves off and told you to follow, a certain erotic thrill to it, the act of following her to a secluded place.

after she unlocked the door, she turned on the overhead lights and elicited an “oh, wow” from you, which seemed to please her. the room was about twice the size of the others you’d been in. “yeah, we changed the seats, painted the walls a better color, new sound system, all that” she explained as she lead you further in and watched you nod in approval, something about it seeming like a trap you had happily agreed to walk into, an eerie yet thrilling feel to it, a vast space like that with just you two in it, an intimacy to it that felt both quiet and intense.

she lead you to the back of the theatre where you saw that a bunch of the rows had what one might call love-seats, sofa type seats that could seat two or even three people, and sat down on one of them, inviting you to join her, so you did, sighing as you sunk down into the new soft material. 

both of you crossed your legs in a way that made your knees almost touch, a shared attempt at closeness, a mirror image, both of you subtly leaning towards the other person, signaling something. “you do know what people are gonna use these for, right?” you told her in a moment of boldness, bringing up the obvious, giving her a side-eye, which made her turn to face you as she pretended to be more innocent than she was and asked “what would that be?”. 

you rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself, so she dropped the act “well that´s not my business, I´m out there, not in here. also are you speaking from experience there or?” she said in a way that made your blood rush faster, her explicit inquiry about your love life, your sexuality, her unwavering gaze, once again, those piercing dark blue eyes that didn´t let a single of your expressions go unnoticed, a blessing and a curse at once, an exposure to her that was a sweet torture in that state of suspense, guessing, waiting. 

“no no, not my thing, I hate the idea of a movie date, when you don´t like a person and they keep staring at you from the side, waiting for something to happen, thats a hostage situation” you responded, pretending to be unaffected by it all, which made her laugh, genuinely, an achingly sweet sound to you.  “yeah, agree, you have a point” her voice was worn out from a full day of talking, raspy, even hotter than before. she turned her body to look at you even more directly, so you used the moment to shift your position too in a way that made your leg brush up against hers, which killed your ability to speak for a second, her skin both softer and warmer than you´d imagined, an instant pain of absence when contact was over.

“so I´m not gonna see you with someone else here anytime soon then?” she asked, clearly aware that you weren´t thinking about romance with anyone but her in that moment, “yeah, it´ll just me be” you affirmed, “but you?. surely you use stuff like this to flex a little, right?”. 

Van gave you a confused look, “flex?”, so you laughed and explained “you know, like taking a date here or something, telling them they don´t have to pay for anything, taking them after closing hours so it´s a private screening”. Van shook her head and pulled her hair all to one side, which left her neck exposed to you in a way that made it hard to show restraint, your mouth aching with an unfulfilled wish. “nope, I don´t mix work and pleasure” she answered, phrasing it that way on purpose, drawing out the word “pleasure” in a way that got to you, so you moved  closer to her and cocked your head, “never?” no?”. you sounded skeptical, so she feigned offense, “you calling me a liar?”. 

“as if you´d just let that chance pass you by” you said, searching her eyes for deceit, which made her smile in surrender “well, maybe I make exceptions here and there”. for a second you both leaned back and looked up at the ceiling, quiet for a second, sensing the rising tension but not fighting it, until you turned your head a little towards her “this is nice, almost has a sacred feeling to it, an empty theatre, like an empty church or something, all this space and silence”. Van nodded, a flicker of something like excitement at the sound of you sharing something she´d felt before as well, “yeah sometimes I just sit here for a moment when I am stressed out, it helps, even just a few minutes, clears my head”. 

you liked that image, were moved by it in a way, her escaping her life like that every now and then, “so, how´d you end up doing this?” you asked, turning your full attention to her then, watching her from the side as she stared off into the distance and thought about it, soaking up the feeling of being subtly admired, something about your gaze burning on her cheek, a fire that was slowly but surely spreading through her whole body.

“well..” she started, folding her hands in her lap, “I´ll spare you the depressing details of my earlier life but I tried a bunch of things, failed at all of them, hard, and eventually thought why not just do what I love and risk it all on something I actually give a fuck about, so I did and luckily had some help from a few lovely people, who still work with me. but yeah, don´t take me as an example, go to school, get a proper job, make some more money than me, be good.” she turned her head to finally meet your eyes again as she emphasized the last two words, “be good”, a perversity to those words “be good” that caught you off guard, a sudden shiver down your spine. you digested the info and gave a slow nod, “that´s cool, I´m glad it all worked out. and thanks for telling me not to follow my passions and dreams, great reminder, really”. 

she knew you weren´t shy with her but the blunt sarcasm did catch her off guard, so she gasped a little and shook her head while barely suppressing a laugh “hey that´s not what I fucking said!”, a gentle shove to your side that broke your walls down further, almost made you grab her arm to keep her hand over your ribs, right under your heart.

Van could tell the touch had gotten to you, she kept staring at you, her eyes soft then, her defenses not up anymore, not at all, “yeah we should never watch something together like this” she whispered, almost to herself, but you caught it. “why not?” you asked, even though you knew why, you knew from the way she was eyeing you, the way she seemed to almost be telling herself to stop, to look away, to get a grip, a battle visible in her expression that was turning more charged with need by the second, mirroring something that had crept into your own demeanor as well, a shared inability to ignore the heat pooling in your stomachs, your throats, your mouths. 

“I´d do that exact thing you hate.. staring from the side, being obnoxious. you look very pretty like this” she gestured at you vaguely, in a way that suggested she meant in that specific lighting, dim but bright enough to see the outline of your features clearly, the sparkle in your eyes, the innocence that she herself had lost a long time ago, which pulled her in like a moth to flame, eager to be burnt, absorbed by it; you could see something like guilt in her look then, on the surface it was jarringly intense affection, but you could almost hear her thoughts, “why is she here? why is this girl letting me in? who do I think I am? as if I deserve this”, so you moved your hand to her knee, felt her almost flinch, and gently rubbed your thumb up and down, your way of saying “I want this. dont be shy with me. do it.”

you waited for a second, watched her eyes widen, your lips parted, your chest like that of an animal bracing itself to lunge, to tackle, to bite, your hunger turning too pressing, the sight of it enough to make Van to lose her ability for restraint for good, her hand on your cheek, a flame where her fingers brushed your skin, a split second of her closing the distance like her life depended on it, then, her lips on yours, achingly soft and yet pressing against yours hard enough to make you submit, give up, turn docile for her, sighing in both relief and delight.

 you let her kiss you and didn´t move, so she pulled back for a second, worried you were having second thoughts, but the second she broke away, you pulled her back in and kissed her even more eagerly than she had before, your on the sides of her face, where her hair fell down, your fingers tangled in the strands you´d been fixated on since the first time you saw her, the silky sensation only adding to your desire as you started kissing properly, pushed yourself closer to her, draped your leg over hers, pushed your hips forward, almost chest to chest then, her hands on your back to pull you even closer, clinging to your shirt, unwilling to let go, a heavenly heat and wetness flooding your senses when you both turned sloppy with your kisses, touched tongues, moaned into each other´s mouths, shifted to almost grind up against each other, the heat both unbearable and divine, a neediness to everything you were doing, an erratic need taking over and leaving you unable to do much else but claw at each other and kiss again and again and again

the thing that ruined you for good, that made you feel like you were at risk of drenching your underwear entirely, was the kind of sound she couldn´t keep down past a certain point, something like a whimper, a high-pitched, desperate sound that bordered on the pathetic, you knew she wasn´t doing it on purpose, that she was too lost in you to suppress it any longer, her fragile, vulnerable side that contrasted her tough appearance, and it only pushed you to kiss her more deeply, more aggressively too, so eventually, after almost sucking on your tongue to keep it in her mouth, to feel it without pause, she pulled away, scared of her own reaction, panting, both of you breathless, clinging to each other, turned on to a worrying degree, shaking, both of you trying to calm your heart rates but failing as you stared at each other

you fixated on the blush that had spread over her freckled cheeks, that was coloring her whole face shades of pink, a girlish quality to it that made you want her even more, and she could tell, so before you could go in for the kill and kiss her face, she beat you to it, tried to gain the upper hand, at least for the time being, and tilted your head up, gently but firmly, made you face the ceiling, and started placing open-mouthed, feverish kisses on the side of your neck, breathing in your scent between kisses as she left a trail up your pulse-point, bit down lightly on a spot and soothed it with her tongue, made you come undone just from that, sweat collecting where your bare legs were connected, rubbed up against each other, a primal quality to the way she held you close, while tasting your skin, savoring it, gripping you with her free hand while the other kept you from lowering your face, held you in place, a barely audible “youre so beautiful..” reaching your ears as she left a final few kisses on your jaw, your cheek, and moved her thumb to brush over your lower lip.

she pressed it down, the tip of your tongue running over that of her finger, another of her whimpering sounds escaping her then, defeat, she was weak and she knew it, even while devouring you, weak to the bone with her overwhelming urge to both protect and render you helpless. weak. open. open to her and nothing else.

everything about her was dizzying you, making you lose all sanity, her scent, the perfume mixed with her own pheromones, sweet and carnal, her soft hair increasingly messy, fire in your vision, a whiff of her shampoo, something like pine, a green scent, her fingers, on your skin, your face, slipping under your shirt, on your waist, caressing, eliciting a sigh so intense she almost choked up watching you lean into her palm, seek more of it, half of her thigh visible, one of your hands moving under the seam of her shorts, your fingers splayed out on the tender flesh, resting, feeling, the sudden wish you could undress, fully, feel her on you, over you, in every way, the same for her as she traced your spine up, kissed you again, made you feel it even more, the growing moisture between your legs, a throbbing sensation that was about to kill you if it was left untouched, so you whined into the kiss, felt her grow bold from it, her hand over your chest then, squeezing, feeling you up, addicted to your inability to properly kiss her back, her fingers possessively digging into the swell of your breast until you couldn´t take it anymore and grabbed her wrist to guide her hand away, lower, until it rest on your stomach, right above your waistband, another rush of heat to your core just from feeling her so close to where you wanted, needed her. 

if you had been less turned on, you might have been able to be rational, to stop yourself, to wait until you were fully in private, but you couldn´t, it was a losing battle, your mind reduced to one word, ringing in your head: more. more. more.

Van briefly glanced over at the door but nobody would enter, she knew this, so she took in the sight of you all whiny and desperate for her and sighed “.. you sure?” her hand still where you were holding it down against your abdomen, her voice strained, husky, hypnotic, “yes… please.. please” you begged and looked up at her, which nearly made her choke up on her own spit, that word, her undoing, “please”, a blow to her already fading sanity, so she nodded and whispered “okay.. okay yes..” almost as if to soothe you, calm you, as she slid her hand under the material of your shorts, your underwear, your eyes shut, hers fixated on your open mouth, your lower lip, a soft, almost chaste kiss that contrasted what she was doing to you, her hand coming to a hold when she reached the desired spot, just palming you for a second, breathing heavy as she uttered “you don´t even know what you´re doing to me…”

bracing herself more than you were, as if she was the one about to be touched, sick with need, before she slipped her fingers between your folds and groaned. you immediately parted your legs wider, pleading whimpers falling from your lips as she teased you, moved her fingers up and down, achingly slow, obsessed with the heat, the slickness, the proof of what just making out had done to you, the throbbing only getting more intense, “jesus…” she sighed as she indulged in the filth of it, played with you, worked you up, ignoring your most sensitive spot until you moaned in desperation and pressed yourself up against her side, your head on her shoulder, fully at her mercy, so she sighed “oh sweetie..”

and gave you what you wanted, her fingers circling your clit then, just enough pressure to make you relax and give in, but not enough to get you off too fast, she wanted it to last at least a little while, so she watched your every reaction, listened, in awe, and picked up the pace a bit when you clung to her and whined, nodding, a barely contained “fuck…” when she did it just right, made you twist and lift your hips a bit, your leg still over hers, both of you tangled up as she worked at you, held you close with her other hand, caressed you, asking “like that, yeah?” only to hear you struggle to talk back, aware that she was doing everything right, just from the way you were drenching her fingers, the way you felt, your lips swollen, enough of your juices leaking out to give her motions a distinct sound, a sound she got so turned on by that she couldnt hold back and kept jerking you off in motions that would let her hear it, what she was doing, what you were feeling, as she leaned in and kissed the spot above your collarbone, sucked on it lightly, peppered your shoulder in kisses to stifle her moans, overwhelming you with the double feeling of her mouth and hand turning your sensitive areas raw with passion, both of you a mess by then, you trying your best not to be too loud or move too much as you felt yourself go blind with how good it felt, to have her to to you what you usually did to yourself, to be taken care of and marveled at in that most exposed state, to hear her whisper things against your skin like “you feel so fucking good…” as you were trembling and holding onto her arm -

you quickly reached a point where you could finish, she felt it, but you knew that it wouldn´t be enough, so the second you shuddered and felt yourself come undone, the next stage of desperation set in, the first orgasm leaving you so shaken up and hungry for more that you felt like you might die if she didn´t fuck you right then, the emptiness between your legs enough to make you cry in that moment, and she was right there with you, refusing to pull her hand away, touching you all throughout the high and after you came, never letting up, her fingers still dragging over you, applying light pressure, her own breathing all kinds of ragged; if it had been someone else, if you´d been less aroused, you would have been able to stop, to be rational and tell yourself you were in public, but it was impossible, there was no way, your mind reduced to a single word, ringing in your ears: more, more more.

so, you leaned up and kissed her, deeply, feeling the heat that had rushed up to her face radiating off her as she sighed and kept her hand in your underwear still, her eyes fluttering shut from your tenderness, until you pulled away and followed your instincts, telling her “I need more..” as you moved her hand away for a second and unzipped your shorts, not to take them off, you were not reckless enough to try and do something you´d have to be naked for, so she sat there confused but thrilled until you climbed over onto her, heard her sigh “oh…” as you settled on her, straddling her and guided her hand back to where it was before, lifting yourself up enough to make it clear what her job was: to let you ride her fingers. 

Van stared at you and obeyed, watched you eagerly lower yourself again and find the right angle, moaning as you felt her fingers slide in without resistance, and yet stretching you out, filling you until you sat in a way that made her be inside you knuckle deep, your hands on her shoulders to steady yourself as she helped you by curling them up a bit and held you up with her free hand, guided you as you started rocking back and forth, leaned forward and brushed your cheek up against her hair, streadied yourself and got lost in the sensation of being full of her, feeling yourself clench around her fingers as she trembled beneath you and let herself be ruined by the feeling and sight of having you use her like that, getting more from you than she´d ever dreamed of asking for that night, her lips finding your jaw when you started sounding pained from your impending release - “shhh, its okay, it’s okay, I´ve got you” she cooed at you, “just make yourself feel good and let me see, I´ve got you baby”, the baby doing nothing to help with your inability to keep your cool, so you let go of shame and fucked yourself the way you needed, slow and deep, a third finger entering your drenched cunt when she sensed your ability and want to take more, “good girl..” she whispered, something she didn´t usually call her lovers, but being older than you, something about it made her want to keep saying it, over and over, just to watch you soak up the praise, be hers, fully.

she wrapped her left arm around your back to keep you close, to support you as you were close, so close, and moaned “I can´t I´m..” unsure if you could handle it, so she assured you “you´re doing so well, just a bit more, you´ll feel so good, trust me, I´m right here” the almost maternal words fully killing you then as you dug your fingers into her shoulders and bit your lips as you tensed up and came around her fingers, at peak helplessness, unsure if you´d survive, Van pushing her own feelings of bone-crushing arousal aside, the ache between her own legs, to anchor you, caress you, her palm up and down your spine, under your shirt, her lips ghosting over your neck as you rode it out and went slack, “youre so fucking hot..” she sighed, a kiss to your shoulder, a shared sigh of relief, both of you spent as you went boneless on top of her and she moved her hand away, slowly, letting you catch your breath as she wrapped her arms around you and felt you shake from the aftershocks, warm, soft, all hers, for that moment in time, her girl, a possessiveness to the way she kept you on her, listened to your breathing slow down, felt your hands on her neck. 

eventually, you peeled yourself away and slumped down on the empty space next to her, pulled your shorts up again, and came back to your senses, after turning into an animal for a moment there, all body, no reason, no shame, a little shy in the wake of it, so she gave you a moment of silence and licked her fingers clean, drawing it out a little, clearly enjoying your taste, a faint smile when she saw you watching, lowering her hand again and looking over at you, endeared by the dazed yet pleased expression, the disheveled energy, “you good there?” she asked, visibly happy with herself for what she´d gotten out of you, or rather, given you. 

“yeah, yeah more than that…” you said quietly, sitting a bit more upright, regaining some strength, still tingling all over though, still in need, less urgently than before, but far from done with her, so you moved a bit closer to her again “if we weren´t here I´d keep going, return the favor.. get on my knees” you grinned, watching her smile disappear, replaced by a look almost close to fear, the fantasy alone enough to make her acutely aware of how fast you´d be able to destroy her, so you slipped your hand under her waistband, caressed her lower stomach, the way she had before, and sighed “you´re so soft” as she couldn´t do anything but lean back, close her eyes, and groan “and you´re killing me…”, pure neediness threating to take hold of her, so she shook her head and gently guided your hand away, laced her fingers through yours and said  “yeah no I can´t not here, as much as I want to, I´d be…” she trailed off, you could guess what she was trying to say, that she´d bee too much of a mess, too scared of being found, having one of her workers walk in on her like that, it would be one thing to be caught doing it to you, another to be caught having it done to herself. 

“we´ll continue this somewhere else, then” you stated, “yes we will” she insisted, and before either of you could say anything else you heard a noise outside that startled you, it was far away, not right outside the door, but close enough to remind you that you´d been in there for a good while and should probably sneak back out. 

“we should..” Van said, reluctant, hating the idea of parting ways, a feeling you shared, but you stood up with slightly shaky legs “yeah, let´s go”. before you could head towards the door, Van made you turn around and face her by grabbing your arm and said “here wait let me help you there”, her hands on your head then, smoothing out your hair, travelling down to your clothes to make sure they were all in place, a brief swipe over your lip to make sure there was no spit there, “perfect” she whispered and gestured for you to leave first as she held the door open “after you”. 

you walked down the hallways as slow as possible, stealing a few more moments, hearing some chatter in the distance from a few other people who apparently weren´t in a hurry to get home, Van thought out loud then “I was gonna say that I hope they didn´t catch on but this is my fucking place, so I´ll do whatever I want actually”, which amused you, so you teased her a little “not mixing work and pleasure, huh?” recalling her earlier words, so she shot you a sideway glance “not until just now, no”, “sorry” you fake-apologized, which made her grin, “oh yeah, I´m feeling deeply regretful”.

once you stepped back into the entrance area of the cinema, you realized that nobody dramatically turned their heads or seemed to care what Van had been up to, since they were too busy either cleaning up, talking to each other, being on their phones, or yawning since it was nearly 10:30 pm by that point, so she just gave a quick nod to a girl behind the counter and said “be right back” as she joined you in walking outside, relieved that she could say a proper goodbye, that she could take a few minutes and leave it off on a note that you deserved. 

the sun had disappeared by that point but it was mild outside still and the sudden gust of fresh air, being back out under the open sky, in the world, somehow made the reality of your situation come over you, so you both seemed a little flustered standing across from each other, feeling the phantom of the kisses on your lips, the echo of each other´s sounds in your ears, the grabs and squeezes on your skin, a pleasurable rawness between your legs, the wish that it wouldn´t ease, not too fast, not before you could lay in bed and imagine she was there, tending to it, to you, the way she had before, would again.

“so” she said, looking at you then, “so” you repeated, smiling at her, an inflection to your response that put her at ease, the awareness that you shared a certain dry humor, understood each other without being too explicit about it, using glances to say what you wouldn´t say out loud, not yet, not that early. still, you had softened her, she felt open, could breathe more easily than before, so she was clear about it then “it´s really fucking killing me that I can´t just leave with you right now, so: when can I see you again. please.” you, like her, enjoyed hearing her plead, so you returned the bold energy and didn´t play it cool “as soon as you´re free”, meaning it, even if she suggested a time where you were busy, you´d skip it for her, without a second thought, and it worked, she was charmed, her stance a little taller then, her hair blowing in the wind, a glow to her that was your doing. 

“alright, tomorrow evening then. we could get a drink if you want” you stepped a bit closer to her then, looked around, as if you were lost in thought, before giving a counter-offer “or..” you started, eyeing her from up-close then, twisting the end of a strand of her hair around your index finger before letting it go again, her breath briefly hitching, “you could make me that drink at your place” your tone giving away what you were actually saying:

I am done waiting for privacy, I don´t wanna meet in public again, so she laughed, surprised by your forwardness, turned on by it, “alright yeah that´s better, I was just trying to be polite” she told you with a subtle grin. “no need for that” you joked, “perfect. and not to brag but I live on the top floor and I have a pretty great view, my terrace is great this time of year” she mused, shifting her weight, hands in her pockets then.

“careful, I might try to stay over”, you fake-warned her, so she nodded slowly, her voice lower again, that smooth sound that had gotten to you from the moment you´d met, “I can cope”, teasing, obviously the opposite of averted to the idea of having you to herself for more than just a few hours, letting you enjoy the rooms she so often felt alone in, giddy at the idea of you draping yourself over her couch or lounging on her bed. 

“you know, I was kinda scared I was being creepy with how I was trying to get your attention, been a while since I´ve..” she didn´t need to spell it out and it was sweet to you, her admitting that she was not a player at all, that she´d hoped for the best while doubting her methods. you knew her well enough by that point to know she wasn´t the type to want you to say something like “oh no, it was cute”, so instead you said “well maybe it was creepy and I was just way too into you to see it”. 

Van laughed then, a genuine heartfelt laugh, a playful nudge to your shoulder “right. I´ll just enjoy this until you come to your senses then”, you smiled and stood face to face with her then, “might take a while” you uttered while wondering if you could reach out and touch her, pull her closer, or if it was too much, out in the open like that. “god willing yeah” Van whispered and cocked her head a little, looking at you like she wasn´t sure you were actually there, not just a dream she´d gotten too wrapped up in. you felt a greed then, one of your cravings had been satisfied, but another was still there, beneath the desire to fuck, there was the simple, almost embarrassingly simple and innocent yet deep desire to be held, wrapped up in her embrace, and she could sense it, so she gave you a look that said “what is it? tell me”. 

“can I-” you said quietly, holding your arms in a way that completed the thought “hug you”, so she almost made a kind of sound she’d make while watching a kitten lay down on her lap and said “you´re sweet, you think that´s where I´d draw the line? really?”. you shrugged, unsure about her attitude towards mundane affection with people she wasn´t too familiar with yet, but she smiled and beckoned you forward “come” she ordered, and wrapped her arms around you, tightly but no roughness to her touch, at all, a soft yet firm feel to it as you put your own arms around her back and held onto her, felt her warmth against your chest, rested your head on her shoulder, and felt her move one of her hands under your shirt to rest it on the small of your back, the way you´d daydreamed of before, rubbing up and down a little, enjoying the way you melted against her, as if you´d done it many times before, a trust to it that made her feel that rush of protectiveness she´d felt earlier, a sudden inability to let go. 

there was an implicit understanding between you, you felt it, that both of you had gone a long time without being touched the way you had been that night, not just back in the theatre but in that moment, so you stood there together for a good while, hearing the cars pass by, people talking down the street, feeling the night grow colder while you kept each other warm, until she eventually loosened her grip and pulled away, smiling softly, caressing your cheek “it´s really fucking brutal that I have to let you go now..”. 

you leaned into her touch for a second before you put your hands on her waist and said “I´ll make it worth the wait tomorrow, promise”, your tone suggestive enough to replace her frustration about parting ways so soon with anticipation, “I´m sure you will..” she whispered and ran her hands down from your shoulders to your arms, giving them a light squeeze before stepping back.

“okay, you´ve gotta go now, or I´ll just follow you and get a bunch of messages about where the fuck I went”. you laughed at her dramatic flair and leaned in to give her a quick but heartfelt kiss after making sure nobody by the door was watching, pure bliss for about three seconds, then a sigh from her from her, immediately mourning loss of contact when your lips left hers.

“alright, but before that let me give you my number”, you said and waited for her to comply “oh yeah, almost forgot about all that” she admitted, realizing that she´d have had no way of contacting you the next day otherwise, so she pulled out her phone, opened a new contact, and handed it over to you. after you typed out your info and added your name with a heart, which got a sound of amusement out of her, you quickly gave it back, glad about the buzz you felt at the thought of waiting for a text from her.

“alright, I’ll go now. sleep well later, sweet dreams” you whispered to her as you stepped away and stole one last appreciative glance over her figure, watching her turn to leave as well as she did the same. “life is sweet enough right now” she told you, her voice low, her head titled to the side, that sweet girlish look again that flickered through whenever she was with someone she liked, wanted “thank you though, you too”. neither of you tore your eyes away from the other person until you were forced to, so the last image you had of her that night was stepping back into the light, while hers was you disappearing into the dark.

the entire way home, you didn´t register a single detail about your surroundings, nothing could have torn you out of your thoughts, so it was pure luck that you didn´t trip or run into someone trying to pass you on the sidewalk, while Van was busy trying to actually absorb what her workers were saying to her as they cleaned and closed the building for the night, every now and then asking them “huh? sorry, I didn´t hear you”, lying, the volume perfectly fine, her mind simply too clouded by you to let anything else fully sink in. 

around 12am, you laid in bed, freshly showered, relaxed, your arms folded across your chest, the window open, a deep sense of joy washing over you, soothing your worn out body, wondering if you´d be laying next to her the same time the next day, and as if she´d heard you thinking, your phone buzzed right then, the screen lit up with an unsaved number, so you rolled over and squinted your eyes while reading “hey! I hope I’m not waking you up with this but change of plans, I cleared my schedule for tomorrow, so whenever you´re ready, I´ll be here”, her address spelled out underneath, so you quickly typed out a response, that made it clear how eager you were to keep your waiting period to a minimum.

“well in that case, wanna have breakfast together?” you answered, unwilling to wait til evening, a blue bubble appearing mere seconds after on her end of the chat, “perfect yes, I´ll make you something, be here by 10. and I´d like to keep chatting but I need to sleep so I have enough energy to handle you tomorrow. so.”

you smiled at your phone then as you both exchanged a few last texts and then tried to fall asleep as fast as possible, so most of the remaining few hours apart would not be spent conscious, would pass quickly, a last thought before you drifted off:

thank god I didn´t take my usual way home that night. I hope she makes my life go up in flames and that I warm her in the process. what else is spring for but this: blooming. becoming. being made anew by desire. by her.

[kisses4reid]

missed it pt.2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - penelope brings a belated cake for you that leaves everyone guilty. what better way to say sorry then a belated party as well?

genre - spencer x bau!fem!reader, barely angst, fluff, forgotten birthdays and sorry’s

warnings - mentions of forgotten birthdays, being sad, crying, umm cake??? y’all not rocking w cake??? y/n uses she/her pronouns

w/c - 1.2k+

a/n - thank you for the request anon! the idea is perfect and so r u for requesting it, i rock w you

request - I was wondering if you were up for a part 2 of missed it???, maybe where someone on the team suddenly remembered that it was readers birthday, and tells the rest of the team about it ( maybe in the elevator, when they’re all heading home & reader left early or smth ). And Spencer’s like yea I went to see them yesterday & they were pretty messed up about it, and they all start to feel really bad, so they come up with a plan to set up reader a berlated surprise b-day party at rossi’s or smth, and reader cries because she’s never felt so loved and appreciated before!!

Penelope scurried into the office with a leather red bag on her elbow and a large container that covered the lower part of her face. She peered over the plastic and scanned for the one person she was looking for, but instead she was met with a muscular man trying to suss out the tuperware that smelt amazingly sweet. "Hey babygirl," Morgan greeted with a smile, "You baked me a treat?"

Garcia walked further into the bullpen with Derek close behind her, "It's not for you, chocolate thunder. It's for Y/n." She replied matter-of-factly.

She placed her bag and the cake container on your empty desk and furrowed her eyebrows in the search for your presense which seemed to be absent.

JJ and Emily walked by with their cups of coffee in hand, joining Derek's confusion. Emily spoke up, "Why would Y/n need a cake?"

Spencer glanced then. He felt an unfamiliar rush of anger push him out of his chair. He bit the inside of his lip.

Last night, you had poured your heart out to him on the reasons you didn't tell others about your birthday, about much even. Would it be betrayal to expose you? Would it be kind? Spencer pondered as Penelope's mouth went agape in disgust.

She smacked each of the detectives on the arm, recieving groans and gasps from them all. "Are you kidding? It was Y/n's birthday yesterday. I was supposed to give her this yesterday but I was sick so..." Even a person like Penelope could read the subtle signs of regret on the profiler's faces. They screw their lips, glanced at each other - and Spencer - and didn't meet Garcia's eyes. Penelope sighed in anger and she started vocalising the very thoughts that were circling Spencer's mind.

"Are you guys serious? She worked 12 hours with each of you bozo's! And not one of you remembered? Not even a gift? Or a 'happy birthday Y/n'? You guys are unbelievable." She huffed and slapped her hand on the top of the cake container. "Where's Y/n?"

That's when the blonde turned to Spencer. "Uh- She went home early. She finished her paperwork pretty quickly." Emily, JJ, Morgan, and now Hotch - who had been wathcing from his office - all started packing up. Their cups of coffee were poured down the sink, and the sunshine was coming to a close. Spencer's hardened grip on his satchel was turning his knuckles white.

There they all were. Garcia's anger pouring out of her in determined and disciplining paragraphs about care and love and being a team, and Spencer's was pouring into his uneven breaths.

"I can't believe not one of you remembered. Not even Spencer! I mean-"

"I remembered."

The elevator went silent, the digital display counting down quickly. Spencer gulped and fiddled with his bag, avoiding eye contact with anyone at the memories of last night. Depressing, heart-breaking, beautiful. A lot of things happened last night. Some good, most bad.

"I went to her apartment last night with a cake. She was..." There was no lying to a team like this, "devastated."

JJ sighed, "We should do something."

Aaron nodded and brought out his phone, texting Rossi who also left early with you.

This week was full of tears and crying, snotty noses and new boxes of tissues. And today was no different. Though you promised yourself that yesterday was the last day you'd feel sorry for yourself, tears crept to your eyelashes even at the glass of the perfume Spencer had gifted you. It smelt amazing.

Your bed was a mess, your living room desolate and the kitchen long unused.

Today, you would get over it. You've gotten over it for years, why is this one any different? Is it because you thought you had found another family? Is it because Spencer proved people can care, but don't? Maybe it was because instead of wishing you happy birthday, you're father sent a photo of your sister's sports awards and asked why you didn't send her a congradulations text.

Today, you would get over it.

Today, I will get over it.

Your phone buzzed against your kitchen countertop as steam and the smell of onion and garlic filled your kitchen. You glanced, being met with a call from Derek, but being too slow to pick it up. And then suddenly there was a knock on your door.

You shut off the oven, wiped your hands on a cloth towel and tucked some loose hair behind your ears. Not only was this person interrupting a brand new recipe you had been reccomended, but also the reruns of your favourite sitcom. A sigh escaped you as you approached the door, preparing to explain that you were busy, but when you turned the doorknob you were met with deja vu.

Your team was beaming at you, all holding plates and bowls of various sweets and treats, as well as sandwiches and a large cake you assumed was decorated by Garcia.

"Happy Birthday Y/n!" They all screamed, not really in time but close enough to sound rehearsed. A smile slipped out from you as you laughed in shock. You felt your cheeks redden from the attention, feeling slightly uncomfortable and out of place, but you stepped aside to let them in anyways.

They hugged you, quietly and whole-heartedly apologised, and started setting up the surprise birthday lunch with Morgan's playlist filling the apartment. As Rossi passed he whispered, "Did you try that recipe I told you to try, the one I said at your belated dinner?"

Rossi was the only other person other than Penelope and Spencer to know your birthday. In fact, you two had the dinner planned for a week beforehand. You nodded with a smile and he joined the rest.

Spencer stood at the now closed door with a smile. He fiddled with the bottom of his sweater as he waited for you to turn to him, and when you did his hand latched onto yours discreetly. Your eye widdened slightly, gaze meeting his when he bent down slightly to whisper to you. "I wasn't sure if you would appreciate them showing up here but..." He smiled softly, "I think you deserve at least one good birthday."

Tears nearly brimmed your eyes before you heard your friends howl in laughter in the background, "Thank you, Spencer." A tear escaped you and he wrapped his arms around you. He was warm and his hold was tight with care, it made your heart stutter more than it already was. "Sorry," you giggled nervously and wiped your eyes. He gazed down at you and looked at you with confusion. "Why are you sorry?" "I'm crying at a party- A party for me." You said the last word like the scenario was a dream or seemingly impossible and it made Spencer's heart hurt. "That's okay, Y/n. As long as it's happy crying." He held your shoulders and rubbed his thumbs in comforting circles. "Yeah- Yes. I've just never felt this..."

You glanced at the crowd in your kitchen, full of people you loved and cared for. People you thought didn't care enough, but put an effort into a celebration that doubled as a massive and genuine apology for their mistakes. Nobody had ever said sorry to you for missing your birthday before.

"Loved?" Spencer's voice was soft as he finished your sentence. "Loved." You nod in agreeance, beaming at the tall boy so hard you felt like your heart was on display.

taglist (open!): @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es

[hitomisuzuya]

aventurine x fem!reader. smut. cunnilingus. face riding. pussy drunk!aventurine

i know oral has been a pretty consistent theme in my writing lately, but i enjoy writing it so, well there ya go lol aventurine would be a god at it.

aventurine has a different type of lunch in mind for today. between your thighs and devouring the pretty pussy of his sweet secretary. you'd worked so hard for him lately, especially this morning, paying extra attention to detail to his itinerary because he meeting with important potential investors.

he thought it was incredibly adorable the way you moved to hide behind him slightly, anxious around new people, holding his itinerary to your chest. your delicacy in the wake of his tongue is more much preferable a meal.

aventurine groaned into your pussy, lapping his tongue into your clenching hole as much as he could as he observed the breathtaking scene above him. he felt your thighs trembling on either side of his face, the sweetest sounding moans meeting his ears.

your back arched as you grinded on his mouth, your little fingers desperately pinching your nipples in shameless enjoyment as he swirled his tongue around your abused, swollen clit. "that's it, sweetheart," he cooed, his thumbs skimming teasingly across the insides of your thighs as he renewed his grip on your oh so pliable flesh, "use my mouth exactly as you please," he latched his lips on your clit.

the prodding of aventurine's tongue made you see a whole different galaxy of stars. "was i good girl today? was i? was i?" you babbled, pinching your nipples more firmer. he practically felt your engorged clit pulsing on his tongue.

aventurine chuckled as he released your clit. it was making him harder watching you enjoy yourself. watching you enjoy him so thoroughly. the embarrassed flush due to the fact that only you were the only one naked only added to the sweet delicacy of your pussy.

"yes, you are the goodest girl ever. the absolute best," he moans. his fingers groped your thighs before spider walking up to your hips to guide your pace your pace on his tongue. his hypnotic eyes nearly rolled closed in bliss as he swept his tongue back up inside of you, tasting your hole clenching as his tongue swirled with twice the purpose.

he sensed his precious, delicate secretary was close to cumming. he wouldn't be satisfied with anything less than making you completely shatter with his capable tongue.

you moan louder hearing his purred praise. it only ramped up the intensity of your building orgasm. "that's all i ever want to be for you," his cock pulsed hearing your sob of pleasure, tasting your slick even wetter saturating on his tongue. if you weren't so lost in the ecstasy of his starving mouth on your cunt you probably would've called him daddy.

aventurine tapped your hips with impatient anticipation. "my good girl, my sweet, sweet girl. be a dear and cum on my tongue," he vibrated a moan on your pussy as he sucked wetly, sussing out every sensitive spot he knew of.

his lavish praise became too much for you and your poor pussy to take. you cried out for him, his sucks unleashing the literal tidal wave that was your orgasm. you can barely hold yourself up, cum soaking onto his face while you shook above him.

aventurine took his time dragging out your orgasm, his tongue relentless as he licked and sucked stripes up and down your pussy. a job well done in his humble opinion. you. could barely breathe by the time he gently lifted you off his face.

you gasped in surprise when he suddenly repositioned you on your back as you attempted to regain your balance on his bed, spreading your legs and crawling back between your thighs. "ah, ah, sweetheart, i'm not quite finished with my meal yet."

[starcurtain]

A Look at Ratio and Aventurine... and Ratio/Aventurine

I was morally obligated to use this picture.

Anyway, I got an ask about my understanding of Ratio and Aventurine's relationship both in canon and as a ship that I have been holding on to for a while now because... phew, there's like... a lot to talk about there... But I felt I should at least give it a try, so here is my attempt to comment on the intersection of two of Star Rail's most complicated personalities. Long post is longgggg; you have been warned.

First, Aventurine's canon relationship to Ratio:

In the interest of not hitting tumblr's image limit, let's just throw out some of the information we have in one go:

It's pretty complimentary. (Yet somehow...)

The implication of the infamous "Keeping Up with Star Rail" video is that Ratio understands Aventurine better than anyone else, and Aventurine knows this. At the very least, putting all shipping aside, Ratio is the person who can explain Aventurine's behaviors best. He's the person Aventurine chooses do so. This suggests significantly more knowledge of each other's lives than the game first led us to believe.

Other people (read as: my GOAT Owlbert) perceive respect from Aventurine to Ratio, and although I read them as a bit sarcastic, the 2.1 mission logs not only repeatedly confirm that Aventurine views Ratio as smart and reliable, but that Ratio is reliable "as always," again indicating a longer and closer history of collaboration than we get to actively see in game. The devs were working hard to tell us "Penacony isn't Ratiorine's first rodeo," which is interesting--given Topaz's voiceline recommending the Trailblazer avoid working with Aventurine whenever possible, we're led to believe through 2.0 and 2.1 that not many people will willingly work with Aventurine more than once, let alone many times.

While going through psychological scrutiny from the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come his Harmony-infused self, the "Future" Aventurine suggests that Ratio and Aventurine are quite similar, and that Aventurine puts a surprising amount of trust in Ratio, to be willing to hinge such a dangerous plan on something as untested as Ratio's ability to act. At the very least, Aventurine's own psyche is pondering on Ratio and whether or not their connection has any emotional meaning.

But despite all this evidence suggesting Ratio and Aventurine spend significantly more time with each other than we get to see in game, Aventurine's own thoughts cast strong doubt on whether he and Ratio are actually close.

Aventurine's "About Dr. Ratio" voice line suggests that Aventurine believes Ratio does not particularly like him. He seems to think that Ratio would prefer to stay away from IPC operations where possible, and it's "unfortunate" for Ratio to be stuck with Aventurine as a conversation partner. He's tolerated, rather than enjoyed. His overall impression seems to be that Ratio mostly views them as distant coworkers.

When the "Future" Aventurine suggests Ratio did not betray Aventurine willingly, actual Aventurine immediately pushes back:

(Personally I'm on the fence about whether this was real doubt or just a ploy to continue sussing out Sunday; see my other post about this scene for some more thoughts.)

But if we take this statement to be played straight, it implies that Aventurine doesn't fully believe Ratio will side with him, even (maybe especially) in dire circumstances. If this statement is real doubt, then despite considering Ratio the person who best understands him, despite building an entire life or death gamble around Ratio's loyalty... Aventurine still doesn't think Ratio even likes him.

Aventurine's not stupid or blind, so theoretically he should be able to read the situation better than that. But actually, there's plenty of evidence both in the game and outside it to suggest that Aventurine is not the most accurate judge of his own relationships to others and is a down-right terrible judge of his own worth as a person.

"Future" Aventurine suggests that one of Aventurine's deep inner flaws--the truths that he rejects about himself--is a massive inferiority complex. This is backed up well by the mission text, where Aventurine's thoughts about himself spiral into self-harm, and the scene in the maze, where "Future" Aventurine taunts our Aventurine with the unforgettable fact that his entire life was only worth pennies:

There's also pretty consistent self-deprecation, with both "Future" and real Aventurine noting several times that he's a pathetic mess of a person that other people don't trust or like.

The overall impression 2.0-2.1 left me with is that Aventurine is perfectly capable of respecting and caring for others, but virtually incapable of accepting other people genuinely respecting and caring for him.

Part of this seems to stem from the directly-stated sense that he's a failure whose only worth is in transactional exchanges, using and being used by others (there's so many layers to this--internalized racism even), but I also suspect that much of his inability to accept genuine connection from others is defensive behavior.

Aventurine's true self, Kakavasha, is deeply hidden away, like the ghost of the child that manifests from his Harmony delusion in the Dreamscape. Although Aventurine clings to that person, claiming that he has "never changed," he actively coats over his beliefs, his kindness, and his authenticity with the mask of a "cavalier gambler," with glitz and glamor and showy distractions. No one gets to see Kakavasha. No one gets to know him, because being buried deep in the dirt is the only way to remain untouchable, and fiercely keeping one's distance is the only safe bet. (For both Kakavasha and any fools who would doom themselves by daring to care for him.)

So: Canon is telling us that Ratio is one of, if not the, closest people in the world to Aventurine. But canon is also telling us that that still means absolutely nothing at all, because Aventurine won't let himself be close to anyone living.

Aventurine's senses of self-worth, trust, attachment, and safety have been warped so badly by ongoing and untreated trauma and mental health issues that, at least until the end of 2.1, I just don't think he was capable of even accepting genuine friendship from Ratio, let alone anything more.

(Interesting side note here: Ratio is actually one of the people Aventurine calls "my friend" the least. He only says it directly to Ratio a single time in all of their lines of dialogue across 2.0 and 2.1, and even then, does so only when right outside Sunday's door, while almost certainly being spied upon by the Family. Anyone who knows how often "my friend" is peppered into Aventurine's dialogue otherwise should know that the absence of the phrase is actually pretty telling. It almost feels like canon Aventurine's not even sure he can call Ratio his friend, at least to Ratio's face.)

Which makes Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine quite sad and ironic:

From start to finish, Ratio canonically esteems Aventurine more highly than almost any other character in the game. I'm not even talking about shipping when I say that there is no character Ratio is closer to in the entire game.

At present, Ratio has only four voice lines about other characters, and of those four, Aventurine's is the only one that isn't someone from the Genius Society. The only one. Ratio's voice lines are also notably, uh, not very complimentary. Herta is "talented but not helpful to others" and "sees no one as her equal" (read as: she's self-absorbed). Screwllum is a "monarch, rather than a genius" (with the vague implications of being a tyrant), and Ruan Mei is overly ambitious and "fooling everyone."

Meanwhile, Aventurine is "our man" (who is "our" Ratio? who?) whose success "can't all be chalked up to luck," implying that part of Aventurine's success must come from skill. Ratio notes that Aventurine questions his own ability... but as far as Ratio's evaluation goes, he seems to doubt that Aventurine will ever experience a downfall. For someone who thinks 99% of the people he meets are mediocre failures scrambling around in the filth of existence, to be recognized as skilled and unlikely to fail is quite obviously glowing praise.

Then, of course, there are numerous moments that echo Aventurine's hints, implying that Ratio spends significantly more time with Aventurine than we see on-screen, that he knows Aventurine extremely well, and, although he tries (vainly) to pretend he isn't, he's clearly quite concerned with what Aventurine thinks of him.

Especially this last one. "No wonder that gambler likes you so much" is pretty intentional on the devs' part, confirming that Ratio and Aventurine are having off-screen conversations we players are not privy to, which obviously would indicate a closer relationship than the in-game cutscenes could cover.

Then, Trailblazer has the option to flat out ask Ratio to "rate" Aventurine. (Star Rail ship bait is not even subtle.)

At first, this line might read as all over the place:

"The bosses say we're partners but I wouldn't say that" -> Read as: Ratio wants people to know how their relationship is classified but doesn't want to admit to being actually invested.

"I see myself as the teacher to everyone I meet" -> Read as: Ratio at least pretends that he doesn't view anyone as his equal; everyone is either above him--geniuses--or below him--students.

"Aventurine is not that bad of a student" -> High praise; even Ratio can't pretend Aventurine's untalented.

"Actually, Aventurine's probably in metaphysical danger" -> Read as: Ratio is aware of the "void" Aventurine is experiencing and his mental struggles.

The ultimate takeaway of Ratio's "rating" actually says more about Ratio than Aventurine. When it comes down to it, Ratio's choice to answer this question for the Trailblazer instead of dismiss it tells us that Ratio has spent time quantifying and trying to define his relationship with Aventurine, is willing to at least discuss that relationship with other people (when we have no evidence he ever discusses any other personal/non-academic matters with anyone), and that Ratio pays attention to Aventurine's mental states.

Canon Ratio is not beating the allegations, I'm afraid.

But actually, I think the biggest tell about Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine is that Ratio's behavior completely changes the moment Aventurine appears in the game.

In every single one of Ratio's other appearances, two facts are hammered home again and again:

First, Ratio hates interacting with fools and "noisy" people. He wears his plaster bust so that he doesn't even have to see them. Canonically, we're informed by both March 7th and Argenti that Ratio brought and was wearing his headpiece in Penacony. Curiously though...

The players never see it throughout 2.X--probably because 90% of Ratio's scenes are with Aventurine, and Ratio is never shown wearing his bust on screen with Aventurine--even in their very first meeting in the Final Victor lightcone. Aventurine clearly knows of the bust, but despite Ratio verbally going on and on about how Aventurine is the most "flashy" and "devoid of logic" person Ratio knows... the devs deliberately send their message: Ratio has chosen not to cut himself off from Aventurine.

Aventurine can be more "clamorous" than a screaming peacock, but Ratio will still not put up walls against him. This isn't accidental. The devs had every opportunity in the world to go the opposite route and make jokes about Ratio refusing to take the bust off in Aventurine's obnoxious presence; instead they decided that Ratio apparently has a glaring, Aventurine-shaped exception to his "I don't want to perceive you fools or be perceived by you" life rule.

This "willing to tolerate shenanigans only if Aventurine is involved" behavior continues basically throughout all of Penacony's plot. In 2.3 for example, if you turn around and talk to Ratio again on the Radiant Feldspar, he flat out says:

But there's no actual explanation for why he's there in the first place. He mentions he was assigned to watch over "the IPC's ambassadors," which theoretically should apply to Jade and Topaz, yet we never see him interacting with them in any capacity. He's never even shown in the same room as Jade or Topaz, and he's not shown doing any other form of business for the IPC on the Feldspar either. Theoretically, he could have been on the Feldspar to meet regarding the Divergent Universe... except Screwllum wasn't there yet, and Ratio doesn't mention a single word about the Divergent Universe to the Trailblazer.

The only person Ratio talks about in his dialogue on the Feldspar is Aventurine, and the only non-Trailblazer he talks to in 2.3 at all is also Aventurine, replying to him and only him in the group chat.

He looked like he might give it a shot to try to befriend Boothill and Argenti at the end of 2.3... but immediately changes his mind and leaves without saying a word to them.

It's not really a stretch to suggest that the only reasonable excuse for Ratio to attend the party on the Feldspar was if he was there for Aventurine, a behavior that he himself notes is out of character. ("A waste of time" he says, as he stands there anyway.)

But, second and even more importantly: Ratio's single most defining character trait is that he believes people need to pick themselves up. The entire point of his debut appearance in the game was to present his philosophy that if the powerful or privileged intervene to continually "save" the mediocre, ordinary people will never learn for themselves or get the chance to grow. It is in times of desperation, he says, that fools exceed their limits and reach greatness.

This is why, in 1.6, he insisted on Asta and the Trailblazer being the ones to solve the attacks happening on the space station, without relying on Screwllum or the other geniuses. Although Ratio did actively intervene a little (using the phase flame to save the researchers from death), he did so only from behind the scenes, where his actual help would not be noticed by those affected and where it had no impact on their decision-making or their struggles to solve the mystery.

He let Asta and the Trailblazer panic. He let them flounder. He even deliberately misled them at points, claiming that Duke Inferno must have kidnapped the researchers (when it was actually Ratio himself who re-routed them).

Ultimately, Ratio let Asta and the Trailblazer grow from their experiences.

This is also why he lets the Trailblazer go blazing in to fight Ruan Mei's faux emanator of the propagation, despite knowing that Trailblazer was not actually strong enough to win. Ratio watched and was ready to intervene... but in the end he did not, because it was the Trailblazer's fight to lose.

Ratio's most defining character trait is that he believes standing back and observing is the true kindness, rather than inserting oneself and denying people their autonomy or opportunities to grow.

Buttttt... then there's Aventurine, and suddenly the story is completely different.

Suddenly, Ratio isn't an observer but becomes essential to the plan. He's even walking around making big claims about being the manager of the task, flexing all of his C+ acting ability to actively carry out their mutual ploy.

In 2.3, he claims he was just there to watch, and his Penacony sticker asserts he's only "a supporting character"--yet we have never seen Ratio take a more active role in the entire game. Unlike with the Trailblazer in 1.6, he's not primarily watching events unfold from shadowy corners. He's in Penacony as Aventurine's active partner in crime.

And, even more telling--he later jeopardizes their entire mission just to ask if Aventurine needs help.

What? Huh? The character who is famous for the voice line "You look distressed. Is something troubling you? If so, you can figure it out for yourself" is suddenly offering his assistance entirely unprompted?

The guy whose motto might as well be:

Is suddenly out here throwing his own core philosophy out the window to solve Penacony's mystery for Aventurine and save him from himself in Aventurine's hour of greatest need?

A lot of people get hung up on the second half of Ratio's letter, the part about staying alive, which of course is very sweet. But I think the second half causes people to forget that the first part of Ratio's letter is, quite literally, the answer to Penacony's mystery.

Ratio gave Aventurine the answer.

This is like if your professor just gave you and you alone the score key to the final exam and then turned around to insist he "doesn't play favorites."

Of course, Aventurine is brilliant and didn't need Ratio's answer about dormancy, which makes the fact that Ratio went out of the way to give it to him even more odd. Ratio despises unnecessary repetition. If he wasn't dead worried, he would never have given Aventurine an answer that Aventurine had the power to find on his own.

And, as far as canon tells us, Ratio has never done this for anyone else.

The difference is night and day. It's literally the Gordon Ramsay meme, with everyone else in the entire game being the "fucking donkeys" to Aventurine's "Oh dear. Gorgeous."

So: Even if we entirely put aside shipping, if we look strictly at what we're given in canon:

Ratio treats Aventurine with more respect than he treats most other characters in the game.

He involves himself in Aventurine's struggles in a way that he flat out refuses to do for anyone else.

He compromises his own beliefs purely out of concern for Aventurine.

So, at least as far as we've been shown in canon, it is accurate to state that Aventurine is the closest character to Ratio--and unlike Aventurine (king of self-gaslighting), Ratio isn't even good at acting like he doesn't care.

Frankly, the whole thing is a little sad. Ratio's behavior is so blatantly out of character that a smart person like Aventurine should easily be able to determine it is genuine, but Aventurine's personal hang-ups and ongoing trauma make it difficult for him to even see that authenticity, let alone put faith in it. Even in canon, Ratio is mostly unable to help himself when it comes to Aventurine, which is especially unfortunate given how badly skewed Aventurine's perception of himself and others is by the start of Penacony's story.

PHEW! I finally made it through canon content!

Now there's just... everything else... 🫠

Well, to be honest, I don't think I could ever manage to put all my thoughts about this ship into one post. Probably not even fifty posts.

So rather than trying to say everything there is to say about Ratiorine, what I want to focus on is how fantastically these two characters just fit together. Like puzzle pieces that need to be mirror opposites in order to link, these two characters parallel each other while also perfectly filling in each other's voids. It's some of the best character pair writing I've seen in a long time (though I'm still sort of convinced it was at least 50% sheer luck on Hoyo's part), and my perspective on their ship can really be tied to my underlying perception of Ratio and Aventurine's characters as remarkably similar individuals:

It's obvious that Aventurine is not a healthy or well-adjusted adult man, but like... neither is Ratio.

Both of these characters are "not quite right" marginalized people who, at least in my interpretation, have essentially given up on even faking normality and are now just vaguely play acting their way through being functioning members of a universe that is entirely unequipped to accept them for who they are. In a world full of cyborg cowboys and people with wings growing from their heads, the game still manages to somehow convince us that Aventurine and Ratio are odd ones out.

Kakavasha can't even exist in the dystopian capitalist hellscape of the IPC's machinations. "Aventurine" isn't even a real person, just a never-ending performance, a slick, devil-may-care persona without a single ounce of substance.

Ratio, meanwhile, is a world of one, rejected from the only place he thought he could find validation and acceptance but unable to lower himself to fit in anywhere else.

Aventurine is so bad at making genuine connections that he turns everyday conversations into gambles because he doesn't believe people will care enough to keep talking to him without tangible incentive.

Ratio's insistence on treating everyone as students, not as equals, also means he has an excuse to never emotionally engage with anyone he meets. (This is not at all a textbook method of intentional avoidance to prevent any chance of social rejection. Not at all.)

At the end of the day, Aventurine and Ratio both come across as desperately lonely, and so caught up in their own situations that they really don't have the ability to climb out of that hole on their own.

Preventing them from even being able to maintain any form of relationship is also the fact that neither one of them can even find justification. Neither one of them has a reasonable answer to the question "Why am I alive?" anymore, because Aventurine's reason died on Sigonia and Ratio's reason died with an IPC invitation instead of a Genius Society letter. Though their differing perspectives have led them on opposite paths pursuing their own answers to that ultimate question of "Why should I keep living?" (Aventurine was headed toward giving up before the end of Penacony, while Ratio has invented an immeasurable, impossible goal to distract himself from feeling purposeless), both of them are pretty much miserably unfulfilled in their current lives.

They're also both violently allergic to emotional vulnerability and to having any of their flaws or true desires actually be perceived. Both of them put up insanely high walls. Aventurine pushes boundaries with everyone he meets to provoke their hatred in advance, before they can come to disdain him for his "real" flaws. He acts out harmful racist stereotypes to use others' preconceptions for advantage, manipulating every situation he's in--incidentally affirming the stereotypes against his people by doing so.

Ratio puts a physical wall of plaster between himself and others, but the plaster bust actually doesn't have anything on the mental and emotional gymnastics he's engaged in to justify his isolation from the world, doing everything in his power to convince himself that he's isolated by choice, that it's perfectly logical for Veritas Ratio to have nowhere to truly belong, no one to truly belong with. He's so mundane after all. Of course the geniuses don't want him, that's just commonsense. But everyone else is so... different, so foolish, so illogical... It just wouldn't be reasonable of him to try to become one of them either, to be their friend instead of their distant educator. (You know, if you never try to integrate with others, then they can't reject you. Ratio has learned his lesson.)

Somehow, Aventurine and Ratio are two of the most competent and successful people in Star Rail's entire universe and simultaneously also two of the most misfit, reject, dysfunctional messes in the game. Like... Blade has a better support network than Aventurine and Ratio combined. The 7000-pound murderous mech with a disabled, genetically-modified war veteran who never got to live a normal human life hiding inside it is more capable of making friends than Aventurine and Dr. Ratio.

Which is why I love that the devs decided to make their canon backstory: "Some absolute treasures in the IPC and the Intelligentsia Guild had the galaxy-brained idea of pairing Ratio and Aventurine as strategic partners." The game's writing really said: "These two characters are so socially stunted, they have to be assigned a relationship like it's homework."

They may not have it all figured out yet, but the fans see the design: Now that Ratio and Aventurine have each other, they're not alone anymore. I have never seen two characters better fit the "Is anyone going to match my freak?" meme only for the actual answer to be "Yes."

Ratio is "plays chess with himself" levels of loner weird? No problem--Aventurine is "Wanna take bets on who's going to die today?" weirder. Ratio wears a plaster bust to ward off idiots? Aventurine transforms into a monster on command, which is pretty much guaranteed to achieve the same effect.

Ratio wasn't chosen by Nous? That's fine, Aventurine's one job as a "chosen one" was to save his people and now they're all dead. Nobody can keep up with Ratio in conversation? Watch a single comment from Aventurine turn him into a fumbling mess on live television.

Ratio's inability to relate to the experiences and development of any peers his own age have left him extremely isolated and with a permanently scarred sense of self-worth? Wow, I wonder if Aventurine knows exactly what that feels like.

They just... fit.

And, changing focus a little here at the end: While I personally think that recovery from trauma requires internal motivation and self-kindness foremost, I also think that Ratio and Aventurine's relationship should be considered from the perspective of how they help to fill each other's gaps.

Unlike any connection at the Genius Society who will always evoke unpleasant memories of Nous's rejection, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel intellectually inferior. Aventurine has nothing but good things to say about Ratio's intelligence, and it's even apparent that Ratio felt comfortable enough to at least mention his Genius Society woes to Aventurine, something he explicitly does not do with anyone else.

Even when it comes to social interactions, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel inadequate, because honestly? Aventurine's almost as bad at them as Ratio. Aventurine is much better at faking it socially, but when it actually counts? When he's trying to be real with others? A solid 70% of the people who meet Aventurine still end up wanting to strangle him. The guy tried to apologize for threatening to detonate the Trailblazer like a bomb by buying them a model train...

Then there's this:

Aventurine is the only character explicitly called Ratio's equal in game, and more than just treating him respectfully as an equal, Aventurine also exhibits one extreme appeal that no one else in game has ever shown to Ratio: Aventurine makes Ratio feel needed. For Aventurine, Ratio is not a forgettable after-thought as he is to Herta and most of the other geniuses. He's not just "some weird guy who scolds me about school" like he is to the Trailblazer. Ratio's intellect and skill were integral to Aventurine's plan from step one to the very end. Ratio has a place in Aventurine's plots. For a character who directly assesses worth by how beneficial a person can be to others, the fact that Aventurine can make Ratio feel wanted and valued probably produced some of the strongest personal fulfillment Ratio has had in years.

On the opposite side, Ratio's in a unique position. Out of every relevant character in Aventurine's story, Ratio is the only one who has nothing to lose by choosing Kakavasha over "Aventurine." Ratio doesn't profit off Aventurine or take any expensive gifts from him, like the Trailblazer does. He doesn't need Aventurine's luck for anything at all. He'd be able to work for the IPC even if Aventurine wasn't in it. Ratio certainly doesn't want the glitz and glamour of a shallow gambling hustler persona. His work doesn't require Aventurine's continued involvement like Topaz's and Jade's does. He'd probably prefer not to know any Stonehearts at all, thank you for asking.

Outside of deliberate-acting insults about Sigonians for Sunday's sake, we're not told that Ratio has any connections to--and therefore has no preconceived biases against--Sigonians. Being a person who values self-determination and a refusal to live in mediocrity above all else, he would have nothing but esteem for how far Aventurine has managed to come despite the harsh circumstances of his life. Ratio probably wouldn't even think Aventurine's belief in Gaiathra is that strange; one of Ratio's doctorates is actually in theology.

Unlike literally everyone else in the universe who needs "Aventurine," we have every indication that Ratio's respect and admiration will only grow when he finally gets to meet "Kakavasha."

Loneliness, rejection, betrayal, a lack of understanding from others--all of these can leave wounds that only genuine, deep bonds with others can heal.

On death's doorway, in the darkest shadow, when Aventurine had to make the choice between passing on to be with the family that loved him and choosing to return to a reality without them... Ratio's letter was there, telling Aventurine the exact thing he needed to hear to choose life: Someone is waiting for you to come home.

If the resounding rejection of Star Rail's Nihility is belief in humanity's power to make meaning in our own lives through our connections to others, then the ultimate message of Ratio and Aventurine's arc in Penacony is that no one needs to be alone. The world is not as empty as you fear.

And that is a message that Ratio and Aventurine can learn best through each other.

(I just... love them so much...)

[twistedpink]

Childhood crush with Azul? Poor things been in love since you were kids but all you’ve been doing is growing distant once you’ve both joined NRC 😞😞

AWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHH TY FOR GIVING ME THISS

Azul has had the biggest, cutest crush on you since kindergarten,, Now that he’s in college it’s only natural to get a little shy around you. His first “like like”, somehow brought back to him now that he’s finally worked hard enough to wow you!

Childhood crush!Azul that does everything in his power to impress you. Catering endlessly to what he’s sussed out your ideal type to be- But his benevolence only goes so far! His biggest mistake is not being vulnerable with you, and he refuses to address any times he lashed out at you during his “squishy and unfortunate” phase

Childhood crush!Azul can only pout and glare whenever you entertain customers aka do your job, it’s only allegedly that he gave you the job to see you earn a better income, and he swears you don’t get special treatment.. His gracious spirit gravitates to pretty faces in need, he can’t help it!!

Childhood crush!Azul that’s sooooo attentive towards you in your merform. He insists on inspecting your shiniest scales (or best tentacle!) regularly to make sure his “vulnerable employee” isn’t stressed with adapting to land living. If you badger him enough, it’s not too hard to sucker him into looking over your human form either :) Even a whisper of an especially webbed finger or achy bone after transformation will have him suggesting to play doctor <3

Childhood crush!Azul is so suspicious with any “new” friends (regardless of how long you’ve known them post-Azul), signalling hard that the two of you have a “unique bond” because of your history,, he still treasures when you held his tentacle and kissed it in grade school. Maybe he thought you were going to eat him, but he’s drafting a little something to keep that detail under wraps!

Childhood crush!Azul’s got the biggest chip on his shoulder about how much you know about him. You refuse to have a shadow to regulate your information sharing, and he could only sell you on your employment contract :( He’s practically insomniac overthinking how you’d react if he gave you one last proposal. A good businessman knows when to compromise, and from what he’s dug up you’ve always wanted a particular wedding band..

[deebrisbyfish]

This strip has been a script in my document file for almost a year before I sussed out how to make it work the way I wanted. Originally, it was written to just be Heidi and I on the couch, fighting over the remote. She likes to skip intros. I do NOT. This is a regular debate in our home. lol When I realized that for the final panel gag to make any SENSE, it would work better if the strip ITSELF had a "Skip Intro" button, it all came together. It's surreal and weird, and I am happy with how it all came together.