#begins at sundown

[paulinedorchester]

Shavuot, 1945:

In 1945, Shavuot began on the evening of May 17th, a Thursday. That is presumably when this photograph was taken: although we can see daylight coming in at the windows, candles have been lit, indicating that this is an evening service, and the photo has been identified as having been taken on Shavuot. It shows Captain Herschel Schacter (1917-2013) leading worship for American soldiers and newly-liberated inmates at the Buchenwald concentration camp.

Schacter, a Brooklyn native, was an Orthodox rabbi. He graduated from Yeshiva College (now University), and received his ordination in 1941 from Elchanan Theological Seminary (now part of Y.U.). He briefly served a synagogue in Stamford, Connecticut, before joining up in 1942. My main information source states that he served in the European Theater "until July 1945," but other sources relate that he "remained at Buchenwald for months," which of course is open to interpretation. Regardless, he appears to have still been in Army at the end of 1945. In 1947 he took up a pulpit in the Bronx, which he held until 1999. He did quite a bit else as well, as you can see from the Wikipedia page that I've linked.

As you can see, there were a lot of young boys in this group of worshipers, including one at the far left end of the front row directly facing the table, seated between two GIs. He is Yisrael Meir Lau (b. 1937), who grew up to become Ashkenazic Chief Rabbi of Israel and is now chairman of Yad Vashem.

[eeveekitti]

yall ever just realize that all the main themes of rain world [sundown, moondown, random gods, and deep light] are the exact same song and need to sit down for a fuckign minute

[yuureiboo]

Sunna and Meno from Celestial Sundown au belongs to @pillowspace (sorry about the tag-)

I really love and adore them so much.

[irishgop]

“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” (Psalm 119:105)

[geosabor]

Dominion of Hate Page 30 End of Chapter 3

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[l00ney-m00ny]

If you start listening to Its Golden Hour Somewhere at exactly 5:58:35 today on Friday 15 of September 2023 then you can end your day the exact time Golden Hour ends and you can also finish it with Wilbur Soot singing and I think that's neat.

@hoshii11

[nihiltism]

I know I've infodumped this before but not as its own post so let's go. what I'd do if I was in charge of making a live a live anime. I am ignoring the fact that I desperately want it to be a musical because that's not going to happen so ask me about my Separate thoughts about what I'd do if I was in charge of making a The Day The Night Slept The Album-ening of live a live.

ok so my Basic Idea is I'd let the show have a 13 episode (maybe 14? does that happen?) first season. I assume each of the first 7 chapters would need about 2 episodes, but I can see some that end in one like wild west or Definitely present day. I could also see some taking longer though, like distant future and near future. it'd even itself out I think to average to 2 episodes each.

it'd be an anthology series basically. a bunch of non-connected stories, but tied together by one key point. a narrator. see I have a Framing Device idea here and it's that we know odio from the very beginning, but never see his face or know who he is. this is very inspired by princess tutu here but here the stories are actively being Read by somebody outside of it, and occasionally he takes the reins to bend the retelling a bit, likely in the chapter boss' favor. note that while the anime is actually Playing and showing the characters, if the narrator does decide to kick in the characters will likely not be doing what he says they are, and they Definitely cannot hear him. it's an unreliable narrator story, but to the point where it's pretty easy to tell that he's biased. in practice how this probably would go would be like in princess tutu, occasionally when a character reaches a point that justifies his own philosophy in some way he'll cut in and monologue about The Nature Of Man Bringing Only Tragedy or whatever the fuck. also maybe cutting in to give the chapter villains some sympathy for the devil, maybe at the end to close each story out as he turns the last page? I dunno I don't want to be Too obvious but like. odio does sound pretty damn evil by default so maybe it'd be obvious anyway.

anyway! that's season one. anthology of short stories. on the final episode I'd leave it hanging on him picking up one last book or something, but I'd let that be told in either a short season (again, do these happen?) or a movie ??? anyway that would start out with the middle ages chapter, which I don't think will have any narration? I'm iffy on this? it'd be cool to see his retrospective thoughts on his own story but also, that's a bit heavy-handed, I'm not sure. anyway the thing is that around the end, when oersted breaks into his soliloquy at the archons roost. there I think we'd get a sort of cut-in, as halfway through our narrator starts reading it out himself. shut book camera pan Blonde Man Jumpscare I think that's the best way to go about the "oh shit the villain is the protag of that story" reveal. also it'd be fun. anyway that'd be either the beginning chunk or the first two? episodes?

from here I'm not Exactly sure how to frame it because all of the endings are Very important, but also kind of. happen at the same time? I do not know how to do this. the easy way would just be to have it remain anthology-ish, and have say the boss rush version of the dominion of hate be one story while the rest is another, but I don't think that fits into the framing device well. mm?? I have no idea. I think we're good without the bad ending of the dominion of hate happening as long as the "if you kill this dude you'll end up just as fucked as him" message gets conveyed in some way or another but I don't think we can skip the whole other version of the DoH.

maybe we can play it less as Actually Happening and more a what if scenario?? more odio just. Fucking Talking Alone Again about what Could be if not for Man's Folly^tm. I think that'd get the point across, be a good intro for the rest of the dominion of hate and stay in universe but it would Not have the added bonus of "ok you kicked around a bunch of jrpg protagonists now what. did that make you feel any better" unless we tried to hammer that home in a different way. and oh boy do I not have a single idea what to do with the armageddon ending. maybe instead just have him mention how if he and the other odios were Still denied he'd have the page burnt entirely or something. maybe at the end. shrugs. there's not a ton I can do here.

eh. anyway the actual dominion of hate would likely be more based in the protagonists than anything, likely picking a main character (Probably Akira) and not having a Narrator as much as just being in the mc's head from time to time. though I Do like the idea of odio still being there Attempting to nudge the protags and them being actually able to hear him this time, it'd have to be used infrequently. or not at all. there is a certain merit to them not knowing anything about him until getting to the archons roost but Us knowing a lot. I dunno. anyway I think this adaptation would have a lot more interactions between the protagonists (desperately needed) and I think that'd take up most of the runtime there, we can incorporate the trials if we want to (trial of heart is necessary to be sure but the rest really aren't, so it can be a good dungeon for the whole team to go through and have some more plot-motivated character moments) but I think Getting The Band Together might already take a good amount of time if we don't rush past good chances for character building or interaction. I want it to feel like the mcs Do actually start to be a team that is the thing I have the Most problems with about the game, though in doing so that will mean we're gonna have to do away with the 4 character party thing unless we want to have them split up sometimes. that's details. the point is that it's going to be All the mcs together most of the time and hopefully it doesn't feel crowded.

anyway from there it kind of goes as expected, except with the aforementioned (we don't need to have the bad ending be its own thing but we do need to mention the consequences). maybe somebody of the team Does try to grant oersteds wish before being held back or something. for similarities reasons I say oboro but this can be wiggled. anyway I also think around the actual Ending ending you'd get more than just one monologue from the mcs, you'd probably get more of like. an actual Conversation I guess? the mcs building off of each other's points to oersted? I dunno I'm spitballing here I do think it would Start Off with akira's ending though and then somebody scruffs him and continues off from there. I dunno the important thing is that everybody should get a word in or perhaps a hug in in the case of pogo. I think that's it though? I probably won't return to the plot device to show like another book being closed or whatever that is purely A Plot Device so it'd be weird to have it come back after oersted was Thoroughly Dead. I will say though if the live a live anime has an ED it's gotta have sin of odio in the A that's the law.

[ruindunburnit]

After all of my griping about the Vampyre Calendar of Celebrations in The Fledgling Handbook, I pulled together a little calendar (or "Wheel of the Year") to show some celebrations they would actually have and how they celebrate them.

There's absolutely room to add more or remove some, so let me know what you think!

[godsamael]

*shaking and covered in blood* i finally finished LFS 2's common route how are you guys doing?

[wyvernest]

cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader

previous(first) part - next part | all chapters list

>Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark.

cw: slow burn, fluff, eventual smut, angst, follows book events with slight deviations, im planning to let jacaerys live! every chapter is around 2k wc

chapter cw: tension, fluff, a little angst, they are starting to fall for eachother

“The ceremony will be held tomorrow.” Cregan’s deep and steely voice rings with an imposing echo onto the stone walls of the great hall of Winterfell. “My lady is worn from the journey.”

Although the order seemingly held some benevolence to your sore legs and southern blood barely adjusting to the newfound cold, his voice feels so detached that you find yourself wondering whether he truly did care for your spirits, or if he only wished it as a polite formality.

“I will take my leave before sundown, sister.” Jacaerys places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I must be back at Dragonstone before the new moon.”

“Ill news?” you ask, already troubled and feeling incapacitated from protecting and helping your family.

“Ser Criston Cole marches on Duskendale lands. I must be present at the council to take action.”

“What about me?” You worry, and only after speaking do you realize how stupid the question was.

Jacaerys takes a moment to reply, evidently not wanting to make you feel more secluded than you were.

“I will not make any decision that you wouldn't have in my stead.” He decides, “I will send you ravens to inform you, and represent you.” a pause, “unofficially.”

There is nothing more to be said. Any words he could sweeten end with the same inevitable finale. No raven could fly fast enough to deliver your ideas soon enough for the Greens not to gain an advantage over the reluctance of your team.

You are a pawn. Your dragon is a pawn. And you will only read about the war as if it were history before you could contribute.

“I understand.” You manage to let out without showing how disturbed you are and possibly making the northern lords think that you were terrified to marry their leader.

With a hug too frail to even begin to express how much you will miss him, your brother mounts his dragon after the welcoming festivities in the great hall and takes off with a blow of wings that normally would have had you taking a few steps back from Vermax.

But now it didn't matter anymore. You watch as your only friend dissolves into the skies thick with white clouds, becoming nothing but a raven in the distance.

Suvion cries out, a sharp, strained screech that only pain as great as yours could have caused, and the clouds answer, though you cannot see him anymore.

You are taken aback at the feeling of heavy pelts placed upon your shoulders, and only then you realize how cold you are. Your frigid fingers reach around your own neck to grasp at it and keep it from falling.

“The cold is treacherous. One moment you may think you're warm, and the following, your heart stops.” Cregan comes to stand next to you, looking away to where Vermax had disappeared.

“Thank you, my lord.” You speak coyly, quietly, so he wouldn't catch the crack in your voice and think you weak and soft. Perhaps in a different situation, you would have blushed at his kindness, but the ice wall you felt between you and him was now more palpable than ever. Alone, with a stranger.

“You should come inside.” He insists, but it is not advice, it's a courteous command.

Without a word, you turn and listen. You are escorted to your chamber in the castle, and as you pass through the halls, you look around like a lowborn in a dragonpit. At least that's what it must look like, but in your heart it was storming; how different the place was from what you have known your whole life, the people, the sounds in the yard, the very air of the keep.

He stops in front of your door, beckoning you inside.

“Send for me should you need anything your handmaiden cannot provide.”

His voice is softer, as if trying to indulge you and your loss. As if he understands.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Cregan.”

You do not know for certain if there truly is a gleam of affection in his eyes as he says it, but you do know that you held yourself back from leaning forward in his arms.

Oh, how you wanted to just let it out, and how you wanted him to hold you through it. To offer some comfort that, at least, he cared for you. That he wasn't a cold hearted man with nothing warmer than diplomatic skills. Whom you would have to learn how to love the hard way. Only you know how your heart briefly yearned for him to offer you strength.

But alas, it was not proper. Too soon.

“Cregan.” You accept, and he barely hears it. Your heart sinks when he nods politely and slowly shuts the door, and it sinks further at the sound of his boots on the cold stone outside your chamber, walking away.

A terribly tragic thought slips into your tired mind; that he is betrothed to you, yet his heart belongs to another. Northerners love northerners, and the Stark men have mostly married into vassal houses of the north in the past.

No matter how loyal he is to be from now, his thoughts will always be about her, the people will always know about her.

Suvion's head appears at your window, blocking out the moonlight.

“Oh, you,” You whine, opening the windows and laying your upper body on his snout.

You hear someone gasp and scream in the courtyard, no doubt because of the dragon clawing at the walls of the castle.

“We should find some place good for you. Somewhere safe and warm.” He growls sorrowfully, as if aware.

But it doesn't last long. As quickly as he came at the window, Suvion rips away from your touch and carefully leaps out of the castle yard and up into the night sky. His otherwise white scales now partly reflect the dark of night in their shine, making it impossible for you to even tell how high up he was.

Alone again. You knew he wouldn't go far, that he only needed to hunt and come back, but you wished for leverage that was now gone.

Restless and troubled, you decide to take a stroll around the keep that is to be yours in less than a day.

You follow your curiosity back to the great hall, from where you hear whispered voices and see glimmers of lit torches.

“...of the beast. Food is scarce.”

“It will set eyes upon us.”

“Lord Glover, this is necessary. I do not wish-”

The lords at the table turn abruptly at the sight of the shadow you cast into the obscured hall.

“My lady. Is everything alright?” You hear Cregan's voice, his face away from light.

You feel embarrassed and stupid, interrupting a clearly important talk of resources that did not yet concern you and making the impression of a spoiled, uneducated woman.

“No- I didn't mean to intrude.”

“You could never be intruding on talks of our domain.” He attempts to soothe your nerves, although the implication of responsibilities is indomitable in his tone.

You approach them, carefully eyeing the other lords, feeling quite literally akin to a lizard slithering into a den of wolves. You cannot read anything on their stern faces, and it doesn't fail to make you uneasy and put your guard up.

“The dragon, my lady,” one of them starts, a man well past his youth, “he is a welcomed weapon in the North, although -”

“Although it is true that war has brought us both here, my lord, a dragon is not a weapon.” You warn with a poised expression, as respectfully as you could, yet fire dripped from your words.

The other men frowned in surprise and disapproval, but said nothing. You glance at Cregan, by your side, hoping to be faced with kindness, but instead your heart skips a beat at the sight of a cutthroat look he was throwing at the men, protective of your contribution.

“-apologies. The dragon is a welcomed ally. But livestock is barely enough to get us through what's to come. What are we to offer? Sheep?”

“We have endured harsher winters with lesser than we have today.” Your betrothed reassures, despite the evident growing concern.

“Suvion is big enough to hunt for himself, I dare say. The cold doesn't seem to burden him. There is absolutely no need to thin out the herd for him, my lords.”

You struggle to conceal a sharp gasp when his hand runs up your lower back. A way to show approval of your input, no doubt, yet you find that every crumble of affection he grants you is more than enough to spark fire in your body. Is that what you have come to?

You were worried enough that the rough stoicism of the north man wouldn't provide half the love you dreamed of, yet now you falter on that thought. If such a touch is already setting you alight, what would more do?

“A good omen. Prince Velaryon’s first visit wasn't as uneventful.”

“It is settled then. We will discuss other matters after the wedding.” He commanded, and your stomach flipped at the mention of your union.

With the lords out of the room, Cregan turns to you.

“I thought you would be resting. It's near the hour of the ghosts.” He speaks gently with a warm vibration in his voice, as if you have been wedded for years and he knows all about your practices and nature.

“I couldn't. The more I lay there waiting, the more it felt like I would never find sleep again.”

A faint smile lights up your tense visage, an instinctual way of wanting to see him soften as well.

He looks intently, clearly understanding of your friendliness, but it does nothing to soothe his brow further.

“Come. I wish to speak with you, since neither of us cannot find slumber.”

Neither of us? What is that supposed to mean?

You once again hook your arm around his, his body heat immediately warming you up and putting you at ease. He leads you into his chambers, a strong fire already lit in the hearth.

“Is this proper?”

“Whoever shall dare speak ill of my wife will never speak again.”

A shiver runs up your spine. Whether it's a pleasant or a distressed one, you cannot tell anymore.

“I know how you must feel, although it may not seem like it.” He begins, beckoning you to sit on the edge of the bed. “It's the duty that comes with the name.”

“Yes.” You agree, wanting to hear more of what he wishes to tell you. “Although my biggest concern lies with my position. I feel…” You cease before you could say something like “trapped” or “exiled”. He has been nothing but good to you since you arrived and you do not want to seem ungrateful or hostile. You do like him.

But before you could find the right words, he kneels in front of you on the floor and takes your hands in his. Your heart stops. Your brain shuts down. Gods.

“-powerless.” He untangles your mind and finishes your thought. “But you aren't. We will offer help, I do not intend to trample the oath I swore to your brother. The oath I am to swear to you.” He adds, his tone is soft and tender yet his words so meaningful and heavy, you hear them as though their echo reverberated in the entire room around you.

His thumb delicately rubs over your knuckles, his expression as stoic as ever, only his actions speak differently. He leans forward and places a kiss on the back of your hand, assuring and loving.

You draw in a sharp breath, as if you haven't felt affection before in your life.

“Cregan.” is all you manage.

“It is true that this union was made with interest. But you are not unwanted, my lady. I believe we will find more than allies in each other.”

TAGS!! im sorry for those that don't work its tumblr's fault i checked all of them multiple times

@cost234 @dracaryxzs @cherrymallowtm @ithilwen-blackwood @lady-targaryens-world @lightdragonrayne @krokietino @sukunassfinger @rey26 @beebeechaos @melsunshine @aemondwhoresworld @romeavecryst @raynetargaryan2 @fireandblood-mharmie @mitski9328373 @drwho-ess @dorkysupernova @nitimurinvetitumsposts @ghitakhnifissa @darylspersonalwhore @helo1281917 @delaynew @poochies04 @accidentpronedork @fiction-fanfic-reader @rha3nyra @wallacewillow0773638 @star-serpent @potionsclub @drwho-ess @moadvx @jellybeanstacey0519 @italianchameleon @ephemeralninon @sithapprentice @cloveradora @hawkins-2000 @thatspiderwebinthecorner

@wolvestitches @idohknow @nyxbranwenn @asteria33 @nina6708 @r-3dlips @oxymakestheworldgoround @daisyhams @notmycanoe @percyjacksonspeen

@squidscottjeans @itchkhiara @klutzylaena @heylittlelollita @scrumptiousloser @karmaswitch

[pose4photoml]

To all who celebrate ~ Happy Hanukkah 🕎

[paulinedorchester]

Passover, 1944: A respite amid preparations for D-Day

In 1944 Passover began at sundown on April 7th, a Friday.

By this time Allied troops were busily massing along the South Coast, although of course no one knew when the invasion would begin. Passover, with its tale of the Israelites crossing the Red Sea — and which also offered a chance for a change of pace and scene — must have been intensely meaningful for military personnel at that moment.

These photos were taken at a seder held that year "somewhere near London" and attended by more than 700 British and American troops.

It took place in an airplane hangar, I'm guessing.

The organizing seems to have been done mostly by British personnel:

(No American rabbi would be caught dead wearing that contraption around his neck. The photo caption refers to this gentleman as "The Jewish Chaplain to the Forces," but there was in fact more than one.) Having said this, I should point out that Goodman's, which supplied the matzah seen in these photos, was an American bakery, and those present seem to have represented a cross-section of the Allies.

A good seder is participatory. Here, Pte. Leopold Rosenbaum, a native of Bratislava who had arrived in the U.K. in 1938, helps lead the service:

The foods shown in the top photo are ceremonial, eaten before the actual meal, which isn't served until fairly late in the proceedings. Here, "Non-Jewish members of the Army Catering Corps serve the main fish course to Jewish service personnel," according to the caption:

They probably cooked the meal as well, and must have wondered what they'd let themselves in for.

(Photos, top to bottom: © IWM D 19336, D 19334, D 19335, D 19339, D 19338, D 19340, D 19337.)

[folkloreandfable]

Serendipity･ﾟ✧

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x f!reader, Tags: Fluff Warnings: childbirth Synopsis: Just wholesome family fluff, no plot. A/N: I kept it very short.

The waning cresent rose high above clouds to cast silvery gleams into the Red Keep. As calm as the night may be, the princess’s chambers were certainly not. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tried taking the steady breaths the midwife instructed. It was a grave matter indeed, with her mother and the queen herself present to witness the birth of the Targaryen lineage. Her husband paced restlessly after being ousted, since such affairs were best facilitated by women. Also, he was being a meddlesome mother hen that questioned the midwives' every move. Slowly, the night began to move, the stars appeared and shallows gasps evolved to agonising screams. It took all for the young prince to not burst into the room again. And then it stopped. No screams, no gasps. It was all suffocatingly silent. The prince felt his blood begin running cold, and he stormed toward the chamber doors. Propriety be damned. Just as he opened the heavy oak, he heard a slap followed by piercing cries. Cries. There were two of them.

»»———-　˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀　———-««

The midday sun shone high in the rare clear blue skies though its incandesce dimmed in comparison to the beaming glow of the new family. The young mother smiled down at the blessings in her arms. A boy and a girl with dark hair, rosy cheeks and thick lashes that fluttered in content as they nursed from their mother. Hardly the image of Targaryen beauty, but they were in the image of the one she loved. The babes unlatched, tired from the strenuous task of being born and fell fast asleep to the gentle humming of their mother. As she rocked them, the chamber doors opened ever so slightly to reveal the peeking face of her husband. “Is it a good time to come in?” He whispered and the new mother couldn’t help but be amused by his caution, gesturing him in.

“I thought the meeting was to end at sundown?” She asks as he presses a kiss on her hair line before leaning down to kiss the babes. “I had more pressing matters,” Jace half smiled, taking a seat next to her on the bed and taking Visenya in his arms. “They look so much like me,” He proudly declared, causing his wife to scoff. “They just happen to have your hair colour and eyes.” “They have my nose too.” “The babes are barely a day old. They’re more like tubers with hair.” Jace clutched his chest with his free hand, feigning indignation. “You will not insult the heirs of house Targaryen so.” To which she rolled her eyes. “I carried them for eight moons and laboured for an entire night,” she retorted, playfully glaring at the twins. “Thus, their choice of countenance offends me even more.” This caused Jace to throw his head back in laughter before comfortingly wrapping his arms around hers shoulders. “Your time will come with our next ones.” “Maybe,” she rested her head against him, looking softly at their sleeping children. “But for now, I could not be more happy with what we have.”

Jace hummed in agreement, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“Our Lucerys and Visenya.

»»———-　˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀　———-««

Inbox: Open

[himegureisu]

calls

Summary: At the beginning of your relationship, both of you promised to call the other whenever you had time to spare.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

------------------——— 🔎--------------------------

“Did you catch them?”

Your voice was a balm for his weary soul. His team was away for a case though it has been three long grueling days it seemed longer. They’d been on a roll for their unsubs profile and were on their way back to the airport after a successful and fairly uneventful arrest.

“Yeah, we did,” he sighed, sinking into the plush seat of the jet, and observed the team on the ground, “Are you home?”

“No, not yet, will you make it home for dinner?” you asked, from your office packing the files you’d bring home, “Are you hurt? Do I need to get bandages?”

“No, you don’t need to. Just bruised,” his exhaustion evident by the tone of his voice, “Make it a late dinner?”

“Okay, that’ll give me time to finish work. Do you want anything in particular?” you closed up your office, as silence prevailed on the other line, “Hotch?”

“I miss you,” he whispered.

“I know. I miss you too,” your heart ached with longing, as you glanced at the gradient colors of sundown, “But look on the bright side you’re on your way home. Just a couple more hours until then.”

“I’m counting the minutes,”

“Okay, fly safe. I love you,”

“I love you too,”

At the tail end of the call, the BAU boarded the plane and a couple of curious looks went his way but he ignored them. None dared to ask a question.

------------------——— 🔎--------------------------

“Can I take you out for lunch?”

His sudden invitation was a pleasant surprise given that they rarely could get out of the office, so every time an opportunity came up, he takes it and leaves. That’s why he hoped you were free and could answer before another person knocked on his door.

“Yes, of course, you can take me out for lunch,” you laughed, placed the documents aside for later, and signaled your assistant, “What time can I expect you?”

“In fifteen,” in a rush, he walked out and silently hoped no one would intercept him on the way. On his phone, he doesn’t notice the team stares from the bullpen as he enters the elevator. “I’m on my way,”

“Okay, I can hear your breathing, don't rush and drive safe,” you answered, knowing smiles blooming on both your lips, as he arrived at the parking, “I love you,”

“I love you too. I’ll see you soon,”

------------------——— 🔎--------------------------

“Did I wake you?”

His deep tenor echoed from the speakers and immediately your anger, from your disrupted slumber, was abated. On the soft mattress of your bed, you rolled over and clutched his pillow closer as you put the phone on speaker.

“Yes, you did but it’s okay,” you murmured, the scent of his shirt on you comforting but not enough, “If it were anyone else, I’d hung up by now,”

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he breathed out,

From across the country, Hotch looked around to see his team canvassing information from witnesses. He knew he needed to be there but he also needed this breather.

“I also love hearing from you,” you admitted, staring at a photo of you two on the nightstand. His smile wide and dimples out for everybody to see as you held a giant stuffed bear in victory, “Even if it’s gory details of the cases and unsubs you arrest,”

“Were you dreaming of me?”

“Was on my way there,” you answered, the smiles forming on both your lips. “This is so much better but you need me to talk so what do you want me to talk about?”

“Anything. Everything,” he pressed on something for you to be transferred to his earpiece, and went back to his team, “Just talk, please?”

“Okay, so today I was called for an alleged case of corporate espionage…”

------------------——— 🔎--------------------------

There was something wrong.

At the beginning of your relationship, you and Hotch made an agreement about constant communication whenever you could. That’s why you often called, and he’d answer but you’d gone radio silent.

His calls were being directed to your voicemail and as far as he knew, you weren’t on for jury duty until a few more weeks and there were no special events other than settling a case in court for the day.

This is Y/N L/N. I’m sorry I can’t get to the phone but please leave a message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.

“I’m worried, baby,” he whispered, as he ran his hand through his hair, from the corner of his eye he could see JJ stand up and walk to his office, “I love you, please call me back soon,”

His phone buzzed on the table as JJ entered and announced a new case but the text he received from you has him up and shaved off ten years of his life.

Code Silver. Supreme Court VA is on lockdown. Check the news. I’m fine, I promise but stop calling or you’ll give us away. I love you. I’ll contact you when it’s clear.

Oh no, this was where he drew the line between work and personal life. He couldn’t solve any murder knowing that you were on lockdown at the courthouse just an hour away.

“You can fend for yourselves without me,” he answered, rushing out of the office, “I’m sorry, JJ, I need to go it’s an emergency,”

“Hotch?” JJ called, as he rushed out of the office, “Hotch!”

calls pt.2 >

[irishgop]

Looking back on it, it was on the way home.

[beomie3]

night lounge - cbg

☆ summary: the nights spent at your favorite night lounge are everything you could ever need. until one night, you stumble upon a man that makes you rethink.

☆ wc: roughly 4k

☆ content: slow burn smut, beomgyu is a gentleman in a jazz band, light bondage (he uses his tie to fasten your wrists), light drinking, cursing, unprotected, lots of kissing :p, fluffy ending, he’s dominant in this <3

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your favorite late-night lounge lies hidden in the underground of a ritzy hotel amidst the city; candlelit and cozy, black silk sofas and a bar equipped with all the drinks for a perfect night.

it'd been your nighttime getaway ever since you discovered it accidentally one night. you haven't found a place quite as unique as it.

you just can't get over the smooth jazz band that plays in it's designated corner every saturday night at sundown when you arrive. the blend is perfect to the ear; smooth saxophone, soft drums, pretty piano, and sometimes a bassist who would join in at midnight and play well into 3 a.m. which is usually when you decide you're satisfied with your night and head home. which to be frank, it's hard to decide when to leave when it's your comfort place. it simply couldn't get better.

or so you thought.

you sat at the usual velvet barstool under the star-shaped chandelier, taking in the ambiance of the dreamy lounge as always. the subtle murmur of guests and clinks of glasses filling the room, dim with dainty light fixtures and flicker of candles in small glass jars at every table.

dried flowers, fairy lights, and classical paintings adorned the walls in such a beautiful way that made you feel nostalgic. like a museum in paris had been turned into a swanky hangout.

if you could describe the place in one word it would be; classy. no, elegant. no.. dreamy. there were just so many attributes to describe your favorite place, you couldn't begin to put your finger on one.

the peace you felt here while sipping red wine or a cocktail while listening to the smooth blend of instruments from the live ensemble was unmatched to any other place ever, like your own little neverland that you escaped to at nightfall.

the bartender you knew well had just placed a tall glass of chardonnay in front of you, setting tonight's mood as you relax under the liquid's musky yet enjoyable flavor.

cozying into the velvet seat, you shifted your attention back to the band, also paying mind to the people subtly beginning to fill the lounge as the night commenced; observing different groups of friends or couples who entered in intricate outfits, most faces familiar to you. admittedly, people watching was a pastime you fairly enjoyed.

but suddenly there appeared the face of a man you had yet to see, noticing his tall figure immediately as he came down the steps with a certain presence that radiated nothing but confidence and poise.

maybe it was the all-black suit he wore or the way his feathered ebony hair parted over his eyes in such a way that made you stare, following his every step into the warm glow of the lounge.

you wondered if he'd come here all along, or if he was simply a figment of your imagination after only two sips of your glass.

he's here for the same reason as you, it seems, as he briskly makes his way over to the bar.

noticing his approach you try your best to disregard him, acting as if you hadn't just watched his entire procession into the lounge.

"anyone sitting here, miss?" a sudden deep and breathy voice calls out from beside you, a dull pang at your stomach when you turn towards the man and realize how much more handsome he is up close. the way the dim light encapsulates his face, noticing the subtle gloss over his skin.

"you." you keep your wits about you, noticing the way the corner of his lip tugs upward when he nods toward you. swiftly taking the seat.

you turn and face the jazz ensemble again, tongue in cheek as you can feel his warmth beside you, trying your best to seem unfazed by his presence. 

although your eyes are on the band, your ears are keen to his thick voice as he orders; a gin martini on the rocks and a side of lime, please. oh and put the jazz band on my tab while you're at it.

you nearly whip your head around at the sound of his request to put the jazz band on his tab. regardless, there were only four members but still...you were in shock and mostly intrigued. it isn't an act of kindness you'd usually hear at the bar.

the waiter gets to work on his drink and your eyes drift to him like a magnet drawn to metal; his mystery, you just wanted to freeze time and observe him.

once your eyes were on him you just couldn't resist the question that lingered on the tip of your tongue.

"do you know the jazz band?" you circle the rim of your glass with a finger, his chocolate eyes immediately boarding into yours along with all of his attention.

"i do. or else there wouldn't be one," his smile slowly grows as yours does, sipping his drink as it arrives. keeping his eyes on you all the while. he's only spoken two sentences to you but you swear there is something about his aura you just can't get enough of.

although he kept his response short and sweet, you put two and two together and concluded that he founded the band or something of the sort. either way, you just couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"well then today is my lucky day," you bring your glass to your lips and he lets out a deep chuckle, setting his glass down with a smirk at you. eyes still glued to his while he briefly looks away to set his glass down, you try taking him all in; the tiny freckle on his cheek, the silver ring in his earlobe, his long eyelashes. he was almost unreal.

"choi beomgyu," he holds a hand out to you, impressed with how much of a gentleman he's been in not even the five minutes you'd spoken to him. sad how low your expectations were after how many royal douchebags you'd come across at this bar.

you state your name in response, taking his warm hand and resisting the urge to smile too big when he slightly bows his head toward you, eyes never leaving yours as he gently shakes your hand.

that wasn't until he brought the back of your hand to his lips like a prince to a princess, that your heart nearly beat out of your chest; simply carried away by his charm. you’d never been greeted this way.

"i take it you enjoy my band," he slowly releases your hand. "rare to see someone just sit. listen. enjoy the music." he slightly reclines, bringing his glass back to his plump lips with those deep brown eyes on you.

"saturday nights are always my favorite." you nod, slightly reclining in your seat too, mimicking his body language.

"i know." his smile slightly grows behind the rim of his glass, wondering how the hell he knows if you'd never met him in your life.

"and how is it that you know that?" you slightly tilt your head, crossing your legs toward him and narrowing your eyes in await for a response.

"velvet chair at the end of the bar under the star-shaped chandelier. it's your seat. how could i not know where the most beautiful woman in this place sits?"

you're good at not showing how flustered you are; legs tightly crossed together, cheek caught in between your teeth, biting back the biggest damn smile.

"saturday nights are my favorite too," he looks over at the band and it isn't until he makes a bass-playing gesture with his fingers that the puzzle pieces click.

he's the bassist that comes on the stage when the lights go dark at midnight with only candles and fairy lights left to illuminate the room as people slow dance. you thought his silhouette might have looked familiar when he came down the stairs, considering that was all you ever knew of him.

he chuckles at your reaction to it finally clicking within you, truly appreciating your deep love for his performances, as no one usually cares much.

you and choi beomgyu continued chatting the night away, and he can see deep in your eyes that you're passionate about what you talk about. he loved finding out that the girl he always keeps his eye on when he's on stage secretly always admired him and his work.

when the bartender comes around with refills, beomgyu only orders water, finding it rather refreshing that a man can control himself and find satisfaction in only one drink as you usually do.

at midnight when the lights dim, beomgyu leads you hand in hand to the front row of the stage, getting to watch his performance front and center. he loves seeing you so close, usually having to deal with watching you from afar when you sat at the bar.

he performs dried flower, your favorite song preformed by the band. you watch his fingers caress the strings, long and dainty, pretty fingers. clad in expensive rings. wrist dangling with dainty charm bracelets. he has a certain class that is hard to find in men, and you feel yourself falling for him every passing second.

hes so passionate when he plays; eyebrows slightly furrowed as he instinctively plucks every note just perfectly. you’re also keen to every woman staring at him when his solo comes, whispering and giggling amongst one another. you grin.

after, he steps down and joins you in the crowd, asking for your hand and the two of you slow dance to the soft jazz, your head in his chest as he carefully steps with you. he smells of soft cashmere, and that’s the last thing you take note of before you’ve fallen completely head over heels.

the lights dim a bit more, his face barely lit by the candles but you can still see the sparkle in his eyes. his gaze is soft, yet intense and your heart stops as his face inches closer.

before you know it, your lips are touching what feels like velvet pillows; his lips. your heart races, blood rushing to your face and he pulls you closer, feeling his chest press against yours.

his sweet kiss lingers on your lips. you must have a sweet tooth, because you’re craving more.

“how about we get out of here?” his eyes are so intense on yours, realizing your fingers had interlaced into his long ago as you slow danced.

your eyes say it all; both of your body language says it all. you can practically feel your body heat radiating through your silk dress. cheeks flushed as he guides you through the crowd and out into the cool night air.

the taxi ride to his place is tense as you sit hip to hip, his fingers tracing your palm and you can’t seem to take your eyes off of one another. the taxi driver is the only thing keeping him from saying some not so appropriate things out loud, so instead he whispers them in your ear and you’re a giggling mess.

his high rise apartment is classy like him; low lighting and wooden accents, a baby grand piano in the corner under a chandelier, record player and a vinyl collection. an array of basses and guitars adorning the living room. it reminds you of the lounge, in fact; classical paintings and candles and dried flowers on the dining room table.

the tension only builds and builds, until it snaps.

he does so much as put a record on and offer you a glass of wine before your lips are on each other’s again. messy makeout, fingers intertwined in hair. his fingers precisely unbuttoning his suit before sliding under your silk dress.

the two of you stumble toward his king bed and you help him loosen his tie but he ushers your hand away, swiftly removing it from himself.

you fall backwards on his bed, feeling the silk sheets fluff up around you, cold against your boiling skin. he stands between your legs, pulling you toward the edge of the bed toward him with hands hooked underneath your thighs.

“hands above your head,” his voice is husky, eyes dark as he towers over you. dark brown hair messy and fluffed over his forehead.

his demand makes you twice as soaked and you swear a puddle has formed between your legs. you do as he says, feeling the cold air waft against the sensitive skin of your under arms and you’re pelted with goosebumps.

“good girl,” his voice is low, eyes dark. his cock twitches in his pants as you had done what he said, leaning down to hold your hands in place. your eyes widen when he uses his black tie to begin tying your hands together above your head.

“is this okay?” he focuses intensely into your eyes as he makes several concise knots, his voice tender and genuine as you bite your lip. it’s more than okay.

“mhmm,” you moan into his lips as he kisses you, pressing his hips against your clothed heat, legs spread, wrapping around his torso.

you didn’t know what to expect from this choi beomgyu guy, but you could tell he was amazing in bed since the moment you met. he’s had you on edge, turned on since the moment he spoke. he really knows how to turn you the fuck on.

you’re completely out of control now, your wrists fastened tightly together by his tie but you love the feeling more than you ever expected.

he starts slow but increasingly gets more feral. starting by kissing your neck softly, he slips your silk dress off and blood rushes straight to his dick.

you’re wearing a lace bra, extremely see through so that he can see that your nipples are hard and poking out him. but what makes him nearly salivate; you’re not wearing any underwear.

well, you were wearing underwear earlier tonight at first arriving to the lounge, but you’d taken them off somewhere along the night.

“check your pocket,” you eyed the front pocket of his suit jacket and when he stuck his hand in it to discover a pair of lacy underwear, his tongue darts to wet his lips. he fought the urge to absolutely fuck the shit out of you right here right now.

“such a sneaky girl, hm?” he cocks his head to the side, the hint of a sly grin on his lips as he slides his suit jacket off, leaving him only his white button up shirt, yet it’s unbuttoned so that you can see his bare chest and torso peeking through. he pushes the sleeves up and runs his fingers through his feathered hair to expose his forehead briefly. he’s so unbelievably sexy.

his hands are a bit rougher on you now, gripping the fat of your hips as he tongue kisses you, so messy and wet and hot. trailing his lips all over your chest, he bites your nipples softly through the lace and it feels so fucking good. he makes a mess of his spit, kissing your body until his reaches your bare pussy, already drenched for him.

“already so fucking wet and i haven’t even done anything,” he groans at the sight of your wetness dribbling out and onto his sheets. he really can’t believe his eyes at how soaked you are, can’t stop thinking of how good you’re going to feel when he fucks you.

his lips are level with your lower ones and he stares up at you through fluffed bangs over his thick brows. you anticipate what his tongue will feel like inside of you, shuddering when his hot breath wafts against you. you’re so sensitive.

he supports your thighs with his hands, setting each of your feet to rest on the tops of his shoulders. you’re spread wide open for him so that he has the best view of your entirety.

he hasn’t even fucking done anything and you moan out, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat. just the air exuded from his nose when he breathes brushes against your clit and stimulates it.

his tongue finally traces over your bud and you whip your head back onto his memory foam mattress. you can’t do this; no, there’s far too much pleasure. you’d never been this sensitive with anyone in your life. you'd never been this turned on by anything.

when his lips attach to your clit and suck, your hands shoot into his soft hair, grabbing handfuls of it as you whimper loudly; slurping sounds and moans echoing throughout his bedroom. your sounds egg him on; cock twitching violently in his pants with every single one of your sweet sounds.

when he inserts two long fingers into you and curls them up to your g-spot, it’s over for you. it only takes about four strokes of his fingers until you’re spasming, fluttering intensely around his fingers and grinding yourself into his face. his moans vibrate against you. no one had ever made you finish this fast.

“god beomgyu you’re- so fucking good-,” you huff out of breath between words, heavy head thrown back, chest heaving. his ego is stroked yet again.

the recovery from your orgasm is fast as he is quick to kiss you, need prevalent in his veins as you feel fire in him with the way his lips devour yours.

you clench around nothing, squeezing his arms tightly as nervous shudders course through your veins. you need him.

“choi beomgyu,” you whisper against his lips and his hungry eyes board into yours, lips puffy and glossy; he’s looks way too hot right now. you lean up to whisper in his ear.

“fuck me,” your voice is quiet, desperate. hot breath seeping down his neck. he is done for. he's kept his composure this long. but there is always a point where he absolutely loses it.

he can’t wait any longer, swiftly unbuckling his belt and dropping his perfectly ironed black trousers down to his knees along with his boxers.

when his cock springs out, it slaps up against his abdomen with a heavy thud and your eyes widen. he’s got a big fucking dick. your throat bobs as you swallow down a bundle of nerves.

“holy shit,” you say under your breath but he hears you; dark smirk spreading across his lips. he looks down at himself, spreading the ooze of precum around his tip; a darkened pink shade with all of the blood flowing up to it.

since the moment you saw him walk through the door at the lounge tonight, you’ve wanted to fuck him. but the moment he saw you for the first time; oh he’s been wanting to fuck you for months.

"what was that darling?" he leans down to look into your eyes, tender touch against your cheek as he snakes a hand around your thigh and pulls it up so that your knee is up against your chest.

"hm?" his lips are inches away from yours, eyes dark and flicking down to your lips and back up into your eyes repeatedly. he throws your leg over his shoulder.

your heart strums against your ribs as you're anxious to take him, yet you can't wait.

"you can take me, right gorgeous?" he tilts his head and you can't process how beautiful he looks right now; soft, chandelier lights of his bedroom reflect from his big, brown doe-shaped eyes. your mauve lipstick smeared across his lips and chin. hair tousled back, revealing his perfect eyebrows and forehead. the sheen of sweat glimmering from his skin.

"i can take you," a small grin is on your lips as you fiddle with the end of his tie around your wrists, realizing that having your hands tied above your head has made you way more sensitive than normal.

looking down at the space in between the two of you, he rubs the tip of his cock up and down your folds, causing you to shudder. he places small kisses to your knee, as it's resting by his cheek.

you suck air through your teeth when you feel a slight stretch as he guides himself into you, going slow enough to get you adjusted to his tip. you keep your eyes locked as he slides the rest in little by little, moans growing louder as the stretch intensifies. looking down, you realize he's only half-way in and you look up at him, lip caught between his teeth.

the stretch is so intense, but not as intense as his eyes on yours, searching deep into your soul. his hands come up to fiddle with the knot of his tie around your hands, suddenly feeling it loosen and your hands are free. immediately, they fly into his hair, thumbs soft over the sides of his face. he untied them for this exact reason; to feel your intoxicating touch all over him.

suddenly, you feel his hips meet the back of your thigh, and that's when you know he's all the way in. your mouth is agape as he slowly begins moving in an out of you, crashing your lips back to his as the skin of his thighs begins to slap against yours.

his hands are busy on you; one palming your tits as the other hooked under your thigh to keep your leg situated atop his shoulder.

taking him raw feels so wrong but so right; the edge of his tip feels fantastic against your g-spot, thick veins massaging you just right. your arousal leaves a milky white ring around the base of his cock as he slams into you. he collects some, bringing it to your mouth, followed by crashing his lips to yours again so that you can both taste it together.

“you feel so fucking amazing,” he breaks the kiss to speak to you, followed by a moan as he slams as deep as he can into you. you’ve ajusted well at the is point that the pain has turned into pleasure. his soft whimpers in your ear were enough to make you even wetter, easing the process of being stretched out.

he shuts his eyes as you’re sucking him i’m so perfectly, so turned on by the squelch of your pussy every time he enters you. he fights back the urge to cum, but it’s so hard with how beautiful you look right now.

your face is contorted in pleasure, hair sprawled out all over his bed, shimmery sheen on your skin from a mixture of sweat, tits bouncing with every slam of his hips.

“god you’re taking it so well,” he groans against your neck, lifting your other thigh so that both of your legs are swung over his shoulders. he’s impressed by your flexibility as his chest is pressed against yours, realizing just how far he is leaned down against you.

his hips are rhythmic against yours, grinding himself into you, a good tactic to stimulate your clit with this pelvis. it’s like he’s a professional.

his name along with a mixture of curses leave your lips in drawn out moans as your nails dig into his back, the sound of his name nearly drives him insane and he fucks you harder.

you feel the familiar ache in your core with every thrust, and he already knows you’re close because of how much tighter you’ve become around him.

he’s a moaning mess, deep voice like honey in your ear as you suck him in even tighter now. he reaches down to thumb at your clit and you’re right there, right on the edge.

“harder beomgyu, fuck me harder!” you bite down on his shoulder, his hips slamming at a pace so fast that his bed is creaking so loud. your moans probably audible from outside his apartment at this point.

“you gonna cum for me? yeah? cum all over my cock sweetheart c’mon,” his voice is loud yet deep and husky. his eyebrows are furrowed together in pleasure, sweat dripping from his neck and onto your chest.

the slapping of skin is so loud now, and he gives you three precise thrusts before you completely combust.

your sporadic moans are not what tells him you’ve just finished, it’s the absolutely insane convulsions that he feels inside you, fluttering around him at what feels like 200 miles per hour.

it’s enough to push him right over the edge in an ínstense orgasm. he pulls out immediately, busting all over your tummy and angling it to get some on your chest and face. milky white all over you, and there’s a lot too.

he’s so god damn vocal as he cums, his head thrown back so that you can see his addams apple in full glory, bobbing up and down as he moans.

you wipe your chin of his cum and lick your fingers clean, addicted to his salty-sweet taste.

he looks so exhausted as his chest heaves, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. but he doesn’t lay down on the bed just yet; instead he walks to his bathroom, getting a towel to clean you up first like the gentleman he is.

he wipes his fluids off of you with a warm wash rag, tender eyes on your skin as he softly cleanses you. there is a soft quietness about the room, not awkward, soothing actually.

he helps you under his silk sheets once you’re all cleaned up and he snuggles under with you, propping his head up on his hand as he rubs small circles on your shoulder.

“i look forward to seeing you at every show,” his voice is soft, a tender smile on his lips. you love how calm he is, how respectful, how tranquil. almost like he’s healing something deep within you.

“always,” you smile in return. you talked about anything and everything, in love with the way his eyes were attentive to you, keen to every single thing you had to say.

finding his hand under the sheets, you fiddle with his fingers, imagining all the things the future has in store for the two of you. you just knew this was the start of something special.

you hear the record player in his living room echoing with your favorite song, dried flower.

“can i have this dance?” he squeezes your hand under the sheets, smiling. and although you’re both tired, you each slip on a robe and walk hand in hand to his candle-lit living room.

it feels like you’re meant to do this with him, like you’ve done it together before in a past life.

you thought nights at your favorite lounge were everything you could ever need. but that wasn’t true. because tonight, meeting the love of your life proved you wrong in every single way.

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note: here is a gyu fic!! tysm for continuing to support my works while i've been gone. i'm currently vising japan and i've been here for a few months :) i'm happy to announce i'm working on a tokyo part 3 for those who enjoyed tokyo and the sequel!!! i plan on releasing more fics in the mean time. i hope you enjoyed this one<3