#in my dr stone phase again
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altherlee · 1 year ago
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I've been dead for a while but here we are with another pixel art LMAO
This time it's Senku from Dr Stone!{I'm in my Dr Stone phase again} Quite rusty and wonky rn</3
Here's the edited and unedited version!
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melissacafundo · 9 months ago
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I'm having my Dr. Stone phase again
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daydream-cement · 2 years ago
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"imagine a fic with college larissa and her goth/punk gf. they sneak off to an abandoned tunnel to smoke, play loud music and make-out.", like my beautiful em said.
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Passing Trains
College!Larissa Weems x College!Reader
Authors Note: Larissa is imagined as Gwen from In Fabric. She is going through her emo phase :) Thank you so much @bri-sonat for all ya help <33333
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Grasping Larissa's hand, you tugged her after you. The unmistakable ringing of her laughter fills the air around you both as you pull her further towards your usual spot.
You and the shapeshifter had been friends for nearly three months and you couldn't get enough of her. You had met during class in one of the big lecture halls. She had chosen to sit by you due to your matching aesthetic preferences, claiming it was a 'first day of class precautionary measure.'
Quickly you became inseparable. Eventually, the only times you weren't together is when you were in a different class or sleeping. Each Thursday after class, you would go down to an abandoned tunnel, share a few cigarettes, enjoy some music, and spend time with one another.
Slipping into the darkness of the tunnel, Larissa couldn't help her excited and jovial tone whenever she was around you. She was so smitten with you, "Did you finish the homework for 405? I think I may die if I have to write another paper for Dr. Morrison."
"I don't even want to think about it. We aren't even halfway through the semester and this is the fourth one, Riss." You take your usual spot against the stone wall, slipping to the floor and pulling the pack of cigs from the pocket of your leather jacket.
Larissa collapsed to your side, offering you up the metal lighter she kept in her pocket, "You're telling me. I swear he doesn't have a life besides reading those fucking essays."
You let out a laugh at her snarky comment, passing the cigarette back over to her. Larissa plucks it from your fingertips and leans her head on your shoulder before taking a long drag. You leaned your head against hers, enjoying the familiar smell of her perfume mixed with tobacco.
A few moments of silence passed between the two of you before Larissa spoke up again, "I saw Lena gave you her number after class…"
"Yeah…"
"Are you going to call her?" Larissa inquired further, passing the cig back to you. She was feeling a little jealous that someone would even try flirting with you, but she had to remind herself that you weren't actually dating.
You offer a light shrug, "Probably not."
"Oh…" You couldn't tell if Larissa sounded disappointed or if she was pleased from your response. Her deeper inquiry into your response was beginning to make you nervous, "Why not?"
It would be pointless to try and keep something from her. She was your best friend and you told her everything… Well, almost everything, "I already like someone…"
"Who…?"
You paused, taking a drag of the cigarette as you pondered your answer, knowing you should have made up a different reason for not wanting to date Lena. Now you were faced with the decision of either lying to Larissa or admitting the feelings you have always had for her. She was stunning with her black hair and dark makeup, not to mention those piercing blue eyes that shone brighter from the black eyeshadow and eyeliner.
Your silence caused Larissa to lift her head, her eyes gazing into yours. Opening your mouth, you hesitate for a second and finally let the words slip from your lips, "I like you."
"Like… you like like me?" Larissa asked for further clarification.
You nod, eyes wide, turning your gaze to the tunnel floor where you extinguished the cigarette against the tunnel floor,, "A lot…"
Much to your surprise, her shock gave way to joy, a large smile breaking out across her face. Without the pressure of you looking at her, Larissa leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, leaving a light red mark lipstick stain. "I like you a lot too. Like… a lot."
You turn your head back to face her, smiles now gracing both of your faces. Leaning in slowly, you decide to make the first move, pressing your lips to hers. Larissa’s hand shifted back into your hair, holding you close enough for her to deepen the kiss and humming in delight when you tugged at the fabric of her shirt to keep her close.
Before you knew it, Larissa was straddling your lap, her lipstick now smeared across your lips and hers. Your hands gripped her hips and her hands held your cheeks. Your tongues mingled and you took turns sucking and biting at one another’s bottom lip, all of the tension between you dissolving the longer your bodies were intertwined.
The sound of a train passing overhead, brought the two of you back to reality. Larissa pulled away first and her smeared lipstick made a quiet giggle rise up through your chest. You lean in close, hugging her to you as you revel in the proximity. Her hands wander up and down your arms, happy to touch you as liberally as she had been longing to.
Once the train passed, you spoke up, asking her a question that had been on your mind since you first spoke to Larissa, “Does this mean you will be my girlfriend?”
“Do you even have to ask? Of course I will."
Larissa and you stayed in the tunnel much longer than usual, kissing and whispering all the sweet compliments you had been thinking about one another the past three months. It was when the chill of the autumn evening air washed over the both of you that you decided it was time to head back to the dorms.
Your dorm, specifically, so you could continue the make-out session in a familiar setting, surrounded by you favorite band posters and accompanied by the delightful sound of the Ramones.
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lucifugousart · 1 year ago
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"DIO's Heaven" A jjba world building theory no one asked for that has been TORTURING me for years.
❗❗ SPOILERS FOR PARTS 1-6❗❗
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OK LET'S GO "The Heaven pertaining the soul, WHERE it'll go." Tl;dr: Heaven is a place. Here's how:
We know that in the Jojo universe Hell and Heaven are equally talked about as a religious belief. In part 1 young Dio was sure his Father was going to end up in Hell for the atrocities he committed his whole life.
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And again, in part 6 Dio specifies that the Heaven he talks about is where the human spirit will go after death. With the introduction of stands, the visual personification of souls, we clearly see this happen multiple times, especially the ascension to Heaven, where they'll finally find peace.
In part 5 we'll also see how, ironically, dying is the only way to escape the chains of Fate. The same Fate that has been object of both oppression AND obsession for Dio since his young age. He believed it was in his Destiny to accomplish his early goals, being Jojo also part of this bigger plan. Of course he was wrong.
Failing to realize how Jojo was the closest person to him (and how attached he was), this dumb man ends up killing him and then regretting the act. I don't wanna go too much in detail about it because we all have read the manga and perfectly know what happens, so, Dio just lost the most important person in his life and had 100 years to overthink about it at the bottom of the sea. Perhaps, taking jojo's body wasn't what Destiny meant for them as "being two that make one" and this dumb dumb can't go back in time. ...or can he? Let's proceed in order
All Dio wants is happiness (relatable, i know) that can only be found in Heaven. Why? We'll see this later, i wanna focus first on how to get there. Because as we said, Heaven is an actual place. But reaching it isn't very easy, especially if you're not dead. Also there's another MAIN issue: Dio isn't human. By rejecting his humanity through the stone mask he basically lost any little chance to ascend to Heaven, because believe it or not: vampires may have a soul, but they're damned. After death there's absolute nothing, no Hell either. Just this:
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But Dio knew this well. His death was a temporary but necessary phase, he'll write about it in his journal (he simply wasn't expecting it to happen like THAT, sigh) and his plan is safe also thanks to an unexpected gift, a little trinket, that carries his consciousness and dna.
Let's recap Dio's instructions to get to Heaven:
-A trustworthy friend. “He must be someone who is not interested in political power, fame, wealth, or sexual desire, and who chooses the will of God before the law of humans.” I will talk about God a lot as ideal, but even if we have a tangible proof of saints existing in JJBA I still don’t wanna claim God’s existence as certain. We have Dio doubting it himself (“If God exists”) and sure there is a force ruling the events, but I have a quite different view on what this force actually is. Let’s continue;
-His stand, The World, and “courage”. “I must have the courage to destroy my Stand momentarily. As it disintegrates, my Stand will absorb the souls of the 36 sinners and will give birth to something utterly new.” -The souls of 36 humans who have sinned, “because those who havesinned harbor a strong power within.” It is said that we, humankind as a whole, are “sinners who need God’s grace” and that the true distinction between a bad person, worthy of going to Hell, and a good person, worthy of Heaven while being forgiven for their sins, resides in the ability to feel “regret” for their own actions. I believe the sinners being from the Green Dolphin street Prison’s lowest circle was providential: they’re all criminals who voluntarily rejected God, their soul already belongs to Hell. So why? There’s a deep symbolism in this.
The sinners are a reference to Dio’s past identity, the man who rejected humanity in favor of world domination (Actually not just that, but now it’s not the time for an in-depth analysis of Dio’s psyche). Such a person would never reach Heaven, right? Well, the key is in “regret”.
Exactly because Dio regretted his actions attaining Heaven it’s not impossible, just very difficult. We said he was gonna use the souls of sinners, but sinners go in the opposite direction, to Hell. So how is it possible? The trick is in the number: 36 has a double meaning. If we look at it mathematically, the sum of the integers from 1 to 36 is 666, the number of the Beast (and Dio was referred to as the Evil in opposition to the Good, with a name so contrasting to make everything even more interesting). On the other hand, 36 has also very positive meanings: the actual number of texts in Holy Scriptures is 36, it’s said that in every generation there are exactly 36 perfectly righteous people alive (we could easily also call them saints) and the world only continues to exist in their merit as they contain a spark of the Divine Light within them, that same light that first shone for 36 hours after its creation and before being replaced by the Sun… But most importantly, 36 has a meaning of rebirth. It’s two times 18, which carries the meaning of “life” (from the Hebrew letters that spell “chai”, meaning "living") so 36 translates into “two lives”. Thinking about it, it’s exactly what happens through the Green baby: Dio reincarnating as someone new, a new pure lifeform free from his sins, no more damned.
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-The cryptic 14 phrases, engraved into The World, so that he couldn’t forget them. I believe these phrases carry Dio’s past but also his Future. Something that after his rebirth would let him not forget where he came from, but also remember where he’s going. Which is why they’re so important and spark a reaction in the Green Baby:
“Whatever is born will "awaken". It will show interest in the 14 words that my trusted friend will utter... My friend will trust me and I will become his "friend".” We’ll witness the first Gravity-induced fusion in the entire series, something that will become more familiar later in Jojolion.
-”Lastly, I need an appropriate location. North latitude, 28 degrees, 24 minutes, West longitude 80 degrees, 36 minutes. Go there and wait for the New Moon. That's when Heaven will come.” AND THIS, RIGHT HERE, IS WHERE WE START. The foundation of how Heaven, Gravity and Fate, Souls and Stands work in the Jojoverse. And also where things start being complicated. The best way to explain everything is starting from Pucci and his role in Dio's plan, then moving back to the first manifestation of Stands. As i said before, in PB the existence of God is in doubt because we don’t have any tangible proof, it's simply an idea sustained by faith. What if i tell you that God, as an actual figure, is actually a product of human actions and everything is governed by Gravity/Fate instead? We know that Dio and Pucci encounter was a product of Gravity, and so was their fusion: there's a reason why he tripped on him, of all people.
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It's exact after this moment, when all left to do is "waiting for Heaven to come" that we get the first actual manifestation of the Divine: the recurrence of number 3.
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Biblically, the number 3 represents Divine wholeness, completeness and perfection. If there ever was a desire to highlight an idea, thought, event or noteworthy figure for their prominence, the number 3 was used to put a Divine stamp of completion or fullfilment on the subject.
Now i'm not saying that Dio is God or became one (THAT would be interesting and i already valued the possibility some years ago), but seems like in the Jojoverse there's no room for coincidences and everything happens as planned by Destiny, so these 3 people being the sons of Dio and drawn to Pucci are exactly where they were meant to be. If God doesn't exist, this is still the proof of how Dio is getting closer to the ruling force of the Universe: Gravity. And through it, finally find happiness. So, we're waiting for Heaven and we have a very specific place where to go for make it happen. Cape Canaveral: the most optimal place to launch a rocket. But what does this have to do with Heaven? OH, MORE THAN YOU IMAGINE. Because it is a place. But i never said it was on Earth.
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To understand our destination better, i wanna make a step back. Ecclesiastes 12:7 says “and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.” We said we don’t have real evidence of God, but spirits DO go somewhere. Foo will say it clearly: the spirit/soul can’t stay on Earth for long, with the only exception of a sudden or tragic death, tying them to a specific place. In most cases, they have unfinished business as the deceased person does not accept the way in which they died (like Riemi or Kira and his father). But once this soul is freed, and if they're worthy, they all go in the same direction: up in the sky, welcomed by a very bright light.
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Heaven is often described as the "highest place" and in the Scriptures, in both Hebrew (shamayim) and Greek (ouranos), it can be translated as "sky".
The first line of the Bible also states that Heaven is created along with the creation of the Earth (Genesis 1). SO. We're looking for a VERY bright something in the sky, created post Big Bang and as old as the entire Universe, which is also deeply subject to Gravity. I already have a very clear idea in mind, but let's also drag in the mix what Pucci knows: the World, a stand involved with the manipulation of TIME, was NECESSARY for reaching of the conditions to attain Heaven. Who's that pokemon? It's a Quasar!
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An astronomical object of VERY high luminosity found in the centres of some galaxies and powered by gas spiraling at high velocity into an extremely large black hole. SO IS HEAVEN A QUASAR?!? Ahah no, but there, at its core, that's where our bus ticket is.
Quasars are some of the brightest objects known, able to outshine all the other stars and can be trillions of times brighter than the Sun. They were much more common when the universe was young, must have been able to form after the universe began to expand. But any simple one won't do, no. To find Heaven we must identify the first, oldest quasar in the Universe, which hosts a very peculiar and unique, primordial, supermassive black hole: the gate for true, unfettered happiness. I'll try to make this as simple as possible leaving out every superflous notion or math about general theory of relativity or we'll NEVER be able to get to the point. At the start i hinted to the possibility of going back in time. Yes and no, it's a bit more complicated than just press rewind but Pucci was right, it IS involved with attaining Heaven.
In astronomy, a black hole is a physical location of no return because Gravity is so strong that nothing -not even light- can escape. As you get closer to it, the flow of time slows down progressively to the extreme. From an outside viewpoint it's like time stops.
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At its center, a black hole is thought to have a singularity point: a location where matter is compressed down to infinity and all conceptions of time and space completely break down. Some even call it "Reverse creation". But as we said, to reach Heaven we seek something way more specific.
As far as we know distant objects are seen as they existed in the past and quasars are the most distant and oldest that astronomers have been able to detect. The most distant quasars are seen at a time when the universe was one tenth its present age, roughly a billion years after the Big Bang. So we're not fully able to find our special primordial black hole, unless we have a way to get closer in a matter of time: Made in Heaven's ability to accelerate time to infinity through gravitational power manipulation will be providential in this. By moving back in time we get to reach and go over the Cosmic Microwave Background, a remnant from an early hot, opaque plasma stage post Big Bang and an evidence of it being the origin of the Universe, the beginning of time. We have zero knowledge of what's behind it as we can't observe it.
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Assuming that Made in Heaven brings us there, what now? In the designed location, moving at infinite speed towards the singularity point of a black hole as old as the Universe itself, and with time SLOWING down once we meet the Singularity point, WHERE are we going? Incredibly, our answer can be found in the Book of the dead. In Ancient Egypt it was believed that the afterlife was a mirror image of life on Earth. Death was only a transition, not a completion, and opened the way to the possibility of eternal happiness. So let's consider this:
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An entire universe behind a black hole, exactly like the one we know, but unaffected by the laws of Gravity as the Fate we know that keeps everyone in chains. Where a soul lives like any their normal life on Earth, but free to act outside any binary AND with the lack of the "Evil" that messed with their previous life, with the promise of a happy otherworldly existence. A chance of rebirth, staying true to yourself, but aware of mistakes you won't commit again. Now if this isn't Heaven i don't know what it is... It makes sense that through Made in Heaven only living organisms could reach such place, as the dead are already subject to the laws of Gravity in their predestined travel to either Hell or Heaven. But things got messed up by Pucci's intentions, as his stand ability is subject to his own belief, desires and psyche.
It is possible that "knowing your future in advace resulting in peace of mind and happiness" belief caused Pucci and Emporio to travel back in the course of Time jumping in a new world where destiny will repeat itself, hence the ability to see the nearest future as vision. And this is anywhere near to what truly Heaven is supposed to be. Happiness won't come from reviving your life exactly like it was (in fact the sole differences we spot are due the people that were already dead being replaced by their own version belonging to that world) but as we said it's the act of being FREE from the laws of Gravity. I believe this shift of intention is what caused Pucci's demise and Emporio's travel to a secondary parallel universe, hinting the existence of a multiverse where every world is connected to the others through the numerous black holes that reside in them. But neither of them would lead to the afterlife except for one. How much does this complicate things? Very.
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Probably if Dio and Pucci were able to spend more time together, with Dio explaining better his view and belief, nothing of the canon timeline since before Pucci's death (his death included) would ever happen and everyone would be living their best life in Heaven. Or even better, if Dio were able to realize his plan before the events of part 3... (all the pain of SDC... gone, never existed. Sigh.)
Identifying Heaven as an Universe (including space and time, planets, stars, galaxies, all the forms of matter, energy, the souls of every creature and humanity) makes everything extremely interesting when we look at how the Jojoverse works.
Given that the gate for Heaven is a Quasar, it's known that sometimes they shoot out pairs of straight jets, containing matter moving close to the speed of light in a tight beam, to distances far beyond the galaxies they live in: how does this affect the worlds these beams reach?
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For a start, we can assume that with Creation every living creature is born with a soul, that is shaped after the individual's choices, experience and psyche. In various religions it's attribuited to the Divine spark gifted by Gods. The references to light are so many that is difficult to call them a coincidence in a setting where "coincidence" isn't really something possible with Gravity's laws. Back to our matter escaped from Heaven, if it were to get in touch with a normal soul, we'd probably have an evolution reaction: natural born stand users.
I believe that the particles coming from Heaven, engaging with the soul that originated there, would trigger a violent reaction shaping the original soul into something more complex (and i would say dormant) that always belonged to the user. We'll learn with part 3 that not everyone has the spiritual strenght to bear this evolution, like when stands are induced later on. So are stand arrows involved too? The answer might surprise you.
Let's take a step back and move to the Poles, approximately 50k years ago, when a meteorite crash-landed on Earth around Cape York, Greenland and later on, in that same site, a misterious disease was found, leading to the creation of stand arrows 2to acquire the powers of Gods".
The fact everything happened at the poles is very relevant to this theory, especially a certain discovery. Let me introduce you to Neutrinos: a subatomic particle that is very similar to an electron, but has no electrical charge and a very small mass, it was almost believed they didn't have any at all. There are different types of neutrinos and they're the most abundant particles in the Universe, although very difficult to detect too. It is possible that a large fraction of the dark matter of the universe consists of primordial, Big Bang neutrinos.
The type that is relevant to us is high-energy cosmic neutrinos that are born in the CENTER of quasars, expulsed by jets and able to cross the Universe without interacting with matter and without any delays on their way. But at the Pole was found a particle that "shouldn't exist" shooting straight up out of the ice and seems to move straight back in direction of the quasar that originated it. Some scientists dared to call it "a ghost particle". Let's add this up to the evolution of the soul, the rules of Gravity and the guys that wanted to gain the power of a God: if the metallic material of the meteorite, infused with the ghost particle, were to come in contact with the organism where the souls resides... Did i already mention that they interact through Gravity?
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Lastly, this whole system would give us a reasonable explanation for certain stand abilities, like Vanilla Ice's and Okuyasu's (being possibly connected to a black hole's singularity point, allowing them to destroy the matter they absorb with no turning back) or others, seen afterwards, capable to move objects or people through different dimensions and/or parallel worlds. Lastly, i wanna spend two words regarding Dio's resolve and why i firmly believe that he regretted his actions. Dio's a person who tends to live a lot in the past and lets it influence his future. I don't think though that his search for Happiness was meant for the whole humanity, like Pucci tried to achieve. Dio's wish was more selfish and limited to himself, perhaps to his trustworthy friend too, but nothing more. He sacrificed himself for something once, that didn't lead him to happyness as he might have thought at the start of Phantom Blood, but is ready to give up on everything a second time with no hesitation. No feelings of grandiosity or power, he recognized his mistakes and wanted to restart everything once again.
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And maybe living a normal life for once. Who knows, maybe letting people be close to him without paranoid tendencies too... True, unfettered happines probably lies in the simplicity of conducting your life following your own decisions, and not Fate's. Or your abusive father's.
So this is Heaven. I know it's long, delirious at some traits and all, but i thought these corrispondences were neat and worth of being shared. So if you got till here and enjoyed it, thank you for your time!
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sablegear0 · 1 year ago
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Finished TotK Finally
As in, finished the story. End numbers after buying the last boss pictures and completing the Compendium were 87.72% complete. I may go back and do koroks and minigames sporadically when I want to wander around in the world again.
So I suppose people might expect my thoughts or a review. Idk if I have anything unique to say but I may as well so: Plot and BIG ending spoilers under the cut. Also extremely long detailed opinions. Like this one got REALLY long. TL;DR at the very bottom.
The End Bits The Light Dragon In a previous blog I applauded Nintendo for letting their women characters turn into incomprehensible beasties lately (TotK, Dread). For the record, I posted that shortly before being spoiled on the fact that Zelda changes back at the end. Needless to say I was re-disappointed. I get WHY they did it. Permanently removing the title character from the game via 10,000 years of ego death doesn't really seem like a great reward for the player seeking out the plot; BotW/TotK Link and Zelda have gone through more than most of their incarnations to get where they are, so it's nice to give them a happy ending, etc. It just... kinda sucks because that was a really cool move otherwise. But Nintendo will not tell us an intentionally tragic (or even bittersweet) story so we got our girl back.
Also she was fine, by the way. She just woke up fully able to move and speak like she'd just had a bit of a rough nap. She also canonically does not remember her millennia spent as a dragon in any fashion. I know the fan writers are probably having a field day with injury/trauma recovery fics for her and I don't blame them. 10k years of ego death and a monstrous transformation should come with some consequences, shouldn't it?
To be honest the nature of the deus ex machina in question bugs me more than the fact that it happened. "Idk Sonia and Rauru did something" is the actual explanation we get (thanks Mineru, you're a real one tho) and it feels... hollow. Like, if the two dragons had clashed and injured one another, and "dying" knocked Zelda out of the transformation the same way destroying the Secret Stone that Ganondorf had taken destroyed his dragon form, that would make more sense, right? You still get your dramatic ending that's a cinematic reflection of Skyward Sword and a symbolic close (presumably) to Ganon's cycle of reincarnation. The arbitrary "power of love" (and not even the Hero's love, come on) ending just doesn't sit right.
Ganondorf Neither did the actual fight with Ganondorf, to be honest. I prepped some pretty high-value weapons, assuming that like BotW I'd have to break a few swords on him before the fight was over. But they just, again, deus ex machina'd that the Master Sword was indestructible for that fight and at no other time. My big scary weapons did see some good use in the wave fight beforehand, which was kind of neat but also kind of underwhelming. I guess that's the point where the game checks if you can handle that many enemies (ie. did you bring enough friends), similar to how doing the Divine Beasts halves Calamity Ganon's HP in BotW.
The duel-style fight for the first two phases was kind of cool. Made a bit annoying by TotK's tighter timing on parries and dodges. And the fact that the legitimate pressure of having your HP outright destroyed (cool, stressful) was removed by the third phase (annoying, no consequences for doing poorly in that part of the fight).
Third phase was neat. It was cinematic, but with no actual danger. I don't think I took any damage that wasn't just gloom-ticks from standing on the demon dragon to attack it. Didn't even get to use my cool bows in the aerial battle. Additionally I didn't have any need for the cool armour I had worked so hard to upgrade. I spent quite a lot of time and effort upgrading the Ancient Hero's Aspect and a second high-defense set (Champion's Leathers, Soldier's Greaves, Amber Earrings). The latter I did use in the demon dragon phase because it looked cool. The former I completely forgot that I had (despite having had to kill an ungodly amount of King Gleeoks to complete it). I used the Depths set for the first two-thirds of the fight because of the Gloom resistance it offered.
The Mechanics Devices All that said, what TotK set out to do it did decently well. It expanded on the physics-heavy improvisational gameplay of BotW with the addition of the Ultrahand fusion mechanic and Zonai Devices, improving on their base engine to create a system that I have heard other devs consider basically magic. Devices and weapon fusion, however, were clearly balanced with the early-to-mid-game in mind. The devices were tools, not weapons, even the ones that were nominally weapons. They simply did not put out enough raw damage to be used offensively, and were better as deterrents or distractions for enemies.
Weapon Fusion I know people weren't crazy about weapon degradation in BotW and I think TotK managed to make it slightly worse. In BotW, all you had to do was find where a desirable weapon spawned and make note of it so you could come back to pick it up after the Bloodmoon respawned everything. In TotK, you have to do that AND fight a monster with a good fuseable part to improve it. You have to do twice as much farming for about the same amount of gain. And that's not even accounting for the weapons you'd break fighting something big like a Lynel - sure they drop good parts, but you might break 2 or 3 weapons taking one down, even with help from your sages. You're operating at a net loss.
Granted the fused part of a weapon does the bulk of the work, but TotK did the interesting thing of making each flavour of weapon ("Soldier's", "Zonaite", "Gerudo", etc) have its own unique properties. This is very cool, until you find a type you like and struggle to find enough of them. Again, you have to trek around to find them and also hope you have the materials for a good fusion. It has its moments, like sticking a Silver Lynel horn on a Gerudo weapon to get a damage value over 100 (which is absurd, most "good" weapons cap out around 50 on average, barring any extra effects), but again, you're usually operating at a slight loss with respect to weapons.
Armour Upgrades To be frank: It's bad. It's bloated and way too resource-intensive. In BotW there were a limited number of sets you'd actually want to upgrade, as each had its own unique thing and that's it, there's one of each. Even doing all of them for completion's sake was achievable. In TotK they have those basic sets, plus a few more unique sets, plus a few redundant sets, and a frankly absurd number of generic aesthetic sets (which flavour of Link would you like? Ocarina of Time? Twilight Princess? Link's Awakenng Remake?) And in all of this they never thought to rebalance the amount of materials required for upgrading.
And on top of THAT, I think they messed with the item drop-rates too! Most enemies can drop 2 kinds of resources, some potentially have more, some only drop 1. in BotW I don't think (thought I may have to check) each type was a guaranteed drop, but you saw every type fairly frequently. In TotK each enemy now has distinct rare drops. And they can be RARE. And the worst part is you need a LOT of them for some armour upgrades. For example; Lizalfos tails are the Lizalfos rare drop, and the armour sets that need them can need up to 15 of the stupid things from a particular species of Lizalfos. Have fun grinding, because now you're playing Monster Hunter instead of Zelda.
Vehicles and Horses The vehicles both did and didn't trivialize crossing the map; a significant amount of grinding is needed before you have enough batteries to cover any distance, Wings (the bird-shaped gliders) have a limited lifespan to keep you from just flying everywhere, and the overworld is generally complicated enough that any fast wheeled vehicle will not be useful for long, and any all-terrain vehicle moves only at a modest speed. Ironically, just use horses where available. They're faster, more versatile, and can be called to you if they're within earshot. Also horses can spawn with overall higher stats than in BotW, and can be upgraded, though with significant resource investment. (It is worth noting that the "best" horse in base BotW, the royal white horse, is only middling to above-average stat-wise when compared to a good wild-caught horse in TotK. They power-crept the horses!)
The most interesting vehicles/movement devices, to me, were the rockets and hot-air balloons. Both add a lot instant verticality in a game that is all about traversal. Fusing a rocket to a shield gets you a huge boost for little resource expenditure (rockets are a bit rare until you can purchase devices). And once you find the Autobuild schematic for a hot air balloon base, all you need to add is a flame-emitter and you can ascend as far as your batteries allow.
Shrines In my humble opinion, TotK knocked it out of the park with its shrines. The ones that have actual puzzles, anyway. There is an unfortunately large proportion of "blessing" shrines that have no puzzle in them, and not all of them even need to be worked for that hard. The ones that do have puzzles are excellent. There are quite a few that highlight different uses for devices, and a good handful that take the Eventide Island/Master Trials-style challenge of stripping you of all your gear and put some twist on it. (Notably these are most interesting in the mid-game, when you have enough hearts to survive but not to trivialize the no-armour combat difficulty.)
They also did the very classy thing of not locking outfit parts behind hidden chests in Shrines. All the hidden chests were perfectly optional bonus chests that required no frustrating re-visits after finding out where that last piece of armour was hiding. Also the slight variations on the music theme was a nice touch that kept the shrines feeling fresh. No shade to the Sheikah Shrine theme, but the strong synths could get a bit grating at times. TotK's gentle, plinky shrine theme variations were an improvement.
The Map The Overworld Probably(?) the most common complaint about TotK and one I share. It's too damn big. In addition to mostly recycling the map from BotW (which bothered some people more than it bothered me, I think), they added an equivalent-sized map for the Depths. Now, BotW's overworld already felt a bit sparse, but it fit the tone of a literal post-apocalyptic world and encouraged you to poke around looking for koroks and investigating enemy camps. TotK's surface overworld is dotted with far more enemy camps and significantly fewer koroks, so it is about as dense but more dangerous/annoying (depending on your hp and gear) to traverse.
There are some major changes to the surface, beyond adding ruins to some spots; most of Death mountain is now safe to travel on foot (probably to encourage use of vehicles) and is no longer superheated, and there are a few spots where the road network is broken, dividing the map into 2 halves that cannot be crossed between on horseback. (In BotW, by comparison, all the roads were connected and you could auto-pilot a horse from one end of the map to the other, provided you took roads marked on the map.)
The Sky The Sky islands were relatively few, for all the hype they got in the promotional material. However I think their self-contained structure and handful of unique features (the "death star" islands, the dive challenges) helped them not overstay their welcome. Besides, the islands themselves are technically also ruins, 10,000 years old and finally visible to the naked eye from the surface, It's a wonder there's as much left and it's as functional as it is. They are beautiful, though. I did enjoy just loitering around in the sky to take in the view and the relaxed atmosphere, as there are fewer enemies up there.
The Depths The Depths... I think I share the majority gripe with the Depths. They're too big. The Depths are another whole open world that is more hostile with even less in it. It exists to grind for resources and pad the playtime. The challenge of the depths is in initially traversing it, having to light your way through impenetrable darkness and navigate dense enemy encampments and find Light Roots to fill out the map. After that, provided you have enough battery power, it can generally be ignored by flying over it. Which is unfortunate. If I were to fix the Depths, I would make it more akin to the Sky Islands; more self-contained, make it a series of winding, interconnected discrete caves, like one big dungeon crawl, rather than a second open world to ignore. Still have the Light Roots be important to vision and mapping, but have the general landscape be more contained. Maybe even have a few more areas that are inaccessible at first except by dropping into the correct chasms, like they did with the Eventide Island and Tingle Island Chain areas of the Depths.
Everything Else Side Quests and Koroks Honestly I enjoyed the variety of sidequests in TotK, and also enjoyed that some of them were quite involved. TotK had two "Tarrey Town"-equivalent long-form side-quest lines; one being visiting all the stables with Penn (I am counting this as one quest because you get drip-fed armour pieces from a unique set throughout it), and the other being the Mayoral Election / Local Cuisine questline in Hateno Village. There were also side-quests to optionally construct the Champions' weapons, which was neat, and to build a house with crazy Ultrahand powers, which was totally frivolous but fun to do. The one thing that bugged me a bit about the side-quests was running into NPCs that reasonably should have remembered Link but didn't. It felt odd, especially poking around Tarrey Town initially.
The Korok puzzles had some new variety to them, which was nice. The block puzzles were given the extra interest of being able to rotate things with Ultrahand, and the vehicle/towing mechanics were given a chance to shine with the "help me reach my friend" puzzles. Having Hestu appear in some less-than-ideal places to begin with (and the whole Lost Woods thing omg what a pain) kind of sucked, but getting those sweet sweet inventory upgrades is always worth it.
The Characters I love all the Sages, I'm going to say it right now. It was really cool to see some familiar faces from BotW (that actually recognized me) and learn what they'd been up to in the ambiguous time-gap. Teba being the slight exception but honestly - meeting Tulin and realizing this sweet bean bird boy looks just like both his parents hit me right in the heart. Mineru was also very cool and I'm glad we got to hang out with her (and bid her a tearful goodbye... my lovely lanky lady...). I also appreciated that doing the Ancient Writings quest teases Mineru's introduction. That was a nice touch.
Penn and Purah are fun, and the Lucky Clover Gazette and Monster Control Crew quests add some depth and background progression to BotW's Hyrule. You get to see how ordinary people are faring and how things are advancing post-Calamity. Seeing the various peoples of Hyrule gather at Lookout Landing after clearing a regional temple was neat, even if it was really only for show.
I know some people have beef with Rauru and that's maybe a blog for another time, but I don't think I have a strong enough opinion to bother. I didn't mind him, I think his arc was clear enough, I think I would have liked to see more of him and Sonia interacting with Zelda in a more everyday fashion - it seemed like she had a lot of fun in the distant past and something more than just a text log of that and a couple cutscenes might have been nice. Honestly I think I would have liked to see more of Sonia especially, she seems like an interesting lady (again, something more than Chaucerian text as proof would have been nice).
I'm honestly kind of mid on Matt Mercer's Ganondorf? I get that he's a big name and people were excited to hear him in the role but idk if the voice was entirely a good fit. They rocked the hell out of his visual design, though. Very good updated look, borrowing elements from some of his previous incarnations. Again I would have liked to see more elaboration on him though; what was the Gerudo tribe like under his rule? Were there dissenters? Give me more worldbuilding or I'll be forced to do it myself.
Music Mostly the same, actually. Overworld themes were recycled. Shrine themes were different and an upgrade imo. Combat themes were slightly different but I probably wouldn't be able to tell them apart at a listen. The Temple music though, oh boy. I loved these themes; they took the ramping instruments from the Divine Beasts control panel gimmick and mixed the Divine Beast Approach themes with each Sage's unique motif to create some really cool but pleasantly unobtrusive tracks. The Depths ambience was appropriately spooky, and the dynamic theme that kicks in when you high-dive was a nice touch, especially since there are distinct versions for diving to the surface and diving to the Depths.
But the standout tracks for me? First, the intro sequence where you descend with Zelda into the foundations of Hyrule Castle and hear the ever-layering Zonai chanting with the spooky reversed voice clips? MMM. 👌 So spooky, so tasty. Genuinely had me on edge even though I knew nothing would happen because it was the intro. The return sequence by the endgame has it build even more intensely as you descend even further and it's fantastic. Second is the Gloom's Approach / Gloom's Source battle theme. The distinctly electronic drone and beat associated with the Depths/gloom-related stuff gets room to shine when this tense bass-heavy track kicks in.
The Little Things I am actually going to stop this one here because I think this part deserves its own blog. There are a ton of little details in TotK that I absolutely adored and I want to gush about them with proper space allotted.
TL;DR TotK is alright. I know I'll catch flak for saying it's "good", so I won't. Settle down. It's alright. Some things it does extremely well, some things could have been edited for time, and some things remained just kinda mid from the original.
If I have to give it a number, it's a solid 6.5-7/10 . Competently constructed, technically impressive, mostly cut-and-pasted, mildly bloated, narratively kind of boring with no sense of stakes and an ending that undoes some otherwise interesting choices.
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sincerelyang3l · 7 months ago
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Rating My Obsessions/Hyperfixiations:
(Going to try going oldest to newest but it might not go so well bc #traumablocking)
2019/2020 (can’t remember):
My Hero Academia: 1/10 (it gets one point for being my first ever hyperfixiation, but I was a foul human being during this time of my life)
The Chronicles of Vladimir Todd/Vampires: 7/10 (I’m sure if I went back and read these books now, they would be subpar and honestly childish, but at the time, I loved them with every fiber of my being, and the memories associated are good so..)
Death Note: 1/10 (Ew I’m foul. I’m a foul creature. I deserve to be put down.)
Dr. Stone: 4/10 (I honestly remember jack about this show but it gets a 4 for being anime.)
Undertale: 5/10 (This game made me happy for awhile, but it was introduced to me by an ex best friend, so it’s getting a solid 5.)
Detroit Become Human: 6/10 (Minus points because of the time of my life this was during, but this game is an absolute masterpiece <3)
Hellsing: 5/10 (The obsession was unhealthy, but this one was pretty great too. Now, it’s sort of a sore spot, but at the time I was living the dream.)
BATIM: 9/10 (This hyperfixiation is honestly older that what I’m giving it credit for, but it’s going here because I don’t have a category for before 2019. Anyway it’s pretty great. It came back in summer of 2023 when I finally watched Dark Revival, which I liked better than the original <3)
FNaF: 8/10 (High score because this is one of the only hyperfixiations that has lasted so many years and can still bring me joy. It’s also older than I’m giving it credit for. Now, Was I cringe about it at some point? Definitely. Do I care? No.)
DSAF: 10/10 (I might be jumping the gun by giving this one my first 10, but I absolutely love this game. It’s only ever brought me joy, to this day I still love it, I based so many of my usernames and characters on it..and just ugh, I love it Fr.)
Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: 7/10 (Admittedly, I haven’t stayed that up to date on it, but I love this anime. It doesn’t have that many bad memories and it’s just, great.)
Dialtown: 8/10 (In the same boat as DSAF but it didn’t bring me AS much joy. I still love it though and honestly I need to finish it.)
Hamilton: 5/10 (At the time, again, I loved it, but now it’s honestly one of my least favorite musicals.)
Borderlands: 7/10 (oh god to experience this game again for the first time would truly be a beautiful experience. Although I was cringe with it for awhile and this wasn’t exactly the happiest time of my life when I enjoyed this..so..)
LA Noire: 8/10 (I honestly loved this game, it was a big turning point in me and my brother’s relationship, and I remember staying up late on countless nights playing or watching him play it.)
Curses Cosplay/The Acklam Ashes: 9/10 (This creator doesn’t make content like this anymore, no hate at all they have their reasons and I still love them, but this YouTube show was a pivotal point of my life and I love it so.)
2021:
Creepypasta: 2/10 (Low score just for the sake of the fandom, and the fact of who I was associated with during this period of time.)
Marble Hornets: 6/10 (Was I cringe? Yes. Absolutely. But this show is so amazing I’m willing to put that aside. I’m also rating this separately from creepypasta for obvious reasons.)
WitchCraft: 5/10 (I had a whole witchy thing for awhile? It was mostly just tarot cards and shirts with the phases of the moon on them.)
DND/Divinity Original Sin: 10/10 (I have zero bad memories with either of these. My love for fantasy and DnD was awakened by playing Divinity Original Sin 2 with my older brother, and then that stemmed into more love for fantasy and the genre in general.)
SCP: 8/10 (This hyperfixiation is somewhat still alive? Not really, but I do still enjoy some occasional SCP content. It’s not a higher score because this was 8th grade year and that’s embarrassing.)
The Glass Animals: 9/10 (Less of a hyperfixiation, more of just, man they made some banger music.)
Elvis: 6/10 (Literally what was wrong with me. For awhile I only listened to music from this era, especially Elvis, and forced my family to buy me a bunch of Elvis merch I didn’t need.)
Noir: 6/10 (Okay so, this stemmed from the above mentioned LA Noire earlier and basically was a time period of my life where I was obsessed with watching old detective/murder mystery movies from the 20s. Honestly, they were bangers. But also, wtf was I doing.)
Tv Heads?: 5/10 (I had a weird thing for robot TV heads for awhile? It’s hard to explain honestly.)
Queen: 7/10 (Another one of those weird band obsessions I guess. This one was definitely bigger than the glass animals.)
2022:
Good Omens: 10/10 (Absolutely love. Loved it then and I still love it to this day!! Holding out for season 3 Fr 💪)
Clover: 7/10 (not many people know what this is, so for context it’s an electroswing album by OR3O. I loved it at the time but it doesn’t hit as hard now.)
Phantom of the Opera: 10/10 (Another 10. This wasn’t technically the first musical I ever watched, but, it was the start of my love for musicals and broadway. And it’s just a great musical Fr.)
Ghostbusters: 7/10 (If you asked me why I suddenly had a ghostbuster hyperfixiation during this time, I couldn’t tell you. But they are iconic movies so…)
The Steve Saga: 8/10 (I had watched FavremySabre several years before, but never this series. Anyway I loved it, still love it.)
Supernatural: 7/10 (A bit of a lower score because I was cringe, and my obsession with Castiel was unhealthy. Not to mention Supernatural isn’t exactly the best show on Netflix? It got dull later on, but..did I watch it start to finish anyway? Yeah. Absolutely.)
Twisted Rainbow: 10/10 (FavremySabre Masterpiece.)
Doctor Who: 6/10 (Two words. Season 13.)
Ghost: 6/10 (Low Score because I can’t stand to listen to them now, and because it’s associated with an ex bestie. But. Can’t lie. They had some bangers.”
Steam Powered Giraffe: 4/10 (Also associated with an ex bestie. They’ve got some good music but I don’t listen to them anymore.)
Mushrooms/Indie: 7/10 (This one was a bit odd but it did result in me redecorating my entire room to match this aesthetic.)
2023:
Faith The Unholy Trinity: 10/10 (Awesome Game, honestly one of the first things that sparked by interest in religious media, so points for that.)
The Exorcist: 9/10 (An odd thing to hyperfixiate on, I know, but this was also a result of my growing love for religious media.)
Mandela Catalouge: 6/10 (This was an odd one. I, at the time, had this raging fear of analog horror in general, so watching the Mandela Catalogue was sort of like..immersion therapy in a way. But it’s a pretty good show none the less 🤷‍♀️)
Be More Chill: 5/10 (Loved at the time, but low points for having been introduced to me by an ex bestie.)
Every Man Hybrid: 8/10 (A certified banger. Genuinely one of the better takes on the Operator and the whole creepypasta fandom in general. It’s great fr. Highly recommend.)
Grease: 4/10 (Ew. I’m only putting it here because I was in a production of it, and it was kind of a part of my life, but also, ew.)
Greys Anatomy: 8/10 (A banger show, but it doesn’t get a 10 simply because of how long it is.)
Slipknot: 7/10 (I don’t love who I was while listening to this band, but that’s kind of just something metal music in general will do to you.)
Aliens: 10/10 (This was short lived but strong enough to have bought a “I Want to believe” poster and hung it up behind my bed.)
Beacon Pines: 10/10 (Amazing game, very underrated. Also resulted in good bonding time with my brother.)
Gravity Falls: 9/10 (Another Amazing series that I’m probably a little cringe for. Whatever. It’s awesome.)
2024:
Ace Attorney: 9/10 (I eat, breathed, and slept this game series for months. Nuff said.)
The Ocean/Sea Animals: 9/10 (if I could keep an orca as a pet, I would.)
Midnight Mass: 10/10 (HOLY GOD. Another one of my favorite bits of religious media out there. It’s not exactly prime catholic propaganda but it’s not meant to be either.)
Baldurs Gate 3: 10/10 (This game brought back my DND era, which was much needed. I’d been without fantasy nonsense for a long time and I was ready for it.)
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yallemagne · 7 months ago
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This year, I'm not doing Dr*cula D*ily
Or any other substack but DD is the biggest. I have numerous reasons for this decision that none of y'all are gonna particularly care for, but ya know, just so we got our expectations in order: I'm not gonna participate in DD this year (maybe never again), I'm probably not gonna reblog many posts related to it (doing so would be counterintuitive), but I am holding myself to finishing Orice (at LEAST the base fic).
Now, why?
TL;DR: Mental health crisis brought on by internet harassment and overprioritizing social media. It's not fun anymore, folks.
DD just... it completely ruined the novel for me.
It was a nice phenomenon, but it took a wrecking ball to my mental health and self-worth. Now, I'm not saying DD's creator personally did something to spite me (or maybe I am, he knows what he did /j), but this whole thing? It wasn't good for me. It was never good. It was sometimes fun, but most of the time it made me want to end it because of thumblr notes.
That's fucking stupid. My life is not worth internet validation. My art is not worthless just because my numbers are not as big as the biggest big shots in the fandom. I'm not a horrible person when other people handle personal disagreements regarding headcanon with defaming rumours and impersonation. But hell! My view of reality was horribly skewed.
A while back, I unfollowed all the gothlit tags I previously followed because 1) Some people (active and popular members of the fandom, mind you, not bots or trolls) were posting honest-to-god name-dropping harassment in the tag because "it's a popular tag so more people will see my callout post" and 2) I reached a point where seeing anything related to the novel on my dash just set me off. It didn't even need to be drama-related anymore. Mentions of the characters, mentions of popular AUs, just the very content of this book became triggering to me, and I really didn't miss the content when it was gone, as sad as that is.
And the kicker? I've come to realize that I probably dislike more things about the novel than I actually like about it. Not only is it tied to some of my darkest moments in recent memory, but it's also just... a book with many flaws that I could go on and on and on about. Sometimes, it straight-up made me furious, like seething mad, and I think I'd rather just be happy. But even when I would try to channel that energy into being happy, I always felt I had to over-clarify or else I’d get bombarded with anonymous messages. If you’ve seen any of my posts from during that time… chances are there is a passive aggressive “btw people can have opposing opinions from you about an old book and it doesn’t give you leave to stone them” or several tags of “#this is a joke #a jooooooke #for the love of god #if y’all don’t stop”. I bet it was as annoying for y’all as it was for me.
P.S. Mutuals/friends, do not worry. Y'all keep doing y'all. I can and will block tags if seeing your posts triggers me. So, I suppose my only request is to properly tag, but I've been saying that from the very start.
I just want to move on to other things.
I took a break for Lent. I needed it terribly. And... not gonna lie? I almost didn't want to return. I never got an itching to just log on and "check in". I very successfully avoided tumb altogether. I came back because "I gotta come back eventually" and also like, this is my main hub where I update when I've written a fic, and ya know... I'm not gonna let toxic fandom bs rule my shit.
During my break, I got back into gaming. More specifically, I started playing Hades again. And listening to Epic the Musical. Aaaand boyyy did that bring me back to my Greek mythology phase. I have a Greek mythos/Hades sideblog btw: @areopagusimp. It's cringe, if you can't tell by the blog name.
Back when I was into Hades game and general Greek mythos, my expectations were so much smaller, but yet, my goals and will to create seemed so much bigger. I made art that no one gave a single solitary shit about (except for my friend), but I was happy. Maybe I'm wearing rose-tinted glasses, but... even if I wasn't as happy then as I remember being... haha at least I wasn't receiving threats and insults in my inbox back then :))). That was the most fun thing about the gothlit fandom. I hope every single chickenhearted angry anon is proud of their behaviour.
But yeah, whatever I end up doing, I’m striving to not let it run me into the ground.
But... What do I do now?
I have so many WIPs (art and writing) for the novel, and it's very disappointing that I didn't get to finish them before it all turned sour. Hopefully, I can still finish them, it just won't be with the same distress I worked with before. Hopefully, I can post that stuff and fully manage my expectations, not crash and burn when only a few people like it. Because hell! A few people liking my stuff? That's amazing, really. I shouldn't take that for granted. At the same time, I'm setting a boundary for myself. Placing my self-worth into the hands of people who I don't know, who don't know me, and who aren't even paying for the art? I need to stop that. Who the hell is that gonna serve? Absolutely no one.
My number one goal is to finish Orice. It is somehow untouched by my aversion to the novel; it is my safe space. I want to honour it and honour the longtime readers who have stuck with me. It's gonna be hard, but it's gonna be worth it for me.
This feels attention-seeking, and it kinda is. I'm not tagging the main subject and I'm not allowing reblogs because I want this to stay isolated (and hopefully prevent backlash/misunderstandings), but ya know, no matter how much I try to keep this small, I'm still posting it online. But I just feel like I needed to get this off my chest. I don't really owe everyone an explanation, but I want there to be one for my own sake... also it's much easier to generalize and make a post than contact each of my friends/mutuals on here and unload stuff onto them that I'm not sure is too personal or not.
For those of you who are reading: I love y'all. I love the good people I've met through all this mess. I want to keep the good apples, not throw out the whole harvest, alright? Dunno how much you'll care for my art when the subject is different, but... eh. If y'all are willing to try?
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headstoned · 1 year ago
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(Get To Know Me)
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°•Masterlist
Headstoned,
I like Garfield.
Uhhh
I post things about my ocs, Garfield strips, my writing, and my shifting process.
Music
Music is my #1 love <3
Top 10 Bands (except it's not just 10)
Metallica
Misfits & TOOL
Led Zeppelin & Stone Temple Pilots
Megadeth
Van Halen
Guns N' Roses & Mötley Crüe
The Red Hot Chili Peppers & SOD
Mayhem & Fleetwood Mac
Rage Against The Machine
ICP & Lynyrd Skynyrd
I love love love music. As a rider of the spectrum (uh) it's one of the only things that gets me through the days. I especially love learning about the music I love. Alot of my tops are up there because of their story (ex, Mayhem/Van Halen/Megadeth+Metallica).
Movies & Series & Books
I love to read and watch movies/series. Some are my favorites are: The Hobbit/The Lord of The Rings, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, IT, Stranger Things, The Dirt, Lords of Chaos, Runnin' From The Devil, Fear Street, and E. Poe works.
My Desired Realities
(Shifting)
One of my favorite activities is shifting. I've mini shifted twice! once intentionally and once accidentally. Here are all of my DR's
Metallica (#1 bae. I am the lead bassist of the band 83-the end. All my friends are in it and they have super cool jobs like ones where our paths our sure to meet now and again bc I love my friends!!!)
Metalocalypse (based on my oc)
Stranger Things (AAAAHH I love this one. I'm an outcast and hang out with the main 4 [before Eleven and Max] and play DnD with them though I'm the same age as their siblings)
Highschool for Rockstars (a bunch of rock bands in highschool during 86 [I'm a senior] also based off my Metallica DR because I leave my first band to be their lead bassist)
South Park (yeah. This is the one I accidentally shifted to while scripting. We're in high school btw. I guess I want to be permanently flabbergasted. Jk I love sp)
IT (THIS IS ALSO ONE MY FAVSSSS omg. It's so dramatic. Slay. It's mostly based on the 2017 movies (thankfully) but has some book and mini series traits. I LOVE my drself in this one I'm such a baddie)
FNAF (I'm a babysitter for the Aftons and gets wrapped up in trying to shut William and his schemes down?!?!?! So fucking cool. Murder/paranormal mystery?!?!? Thank you very much!)
Yeah so you're probably wondering what that intentional mini shift was. Well... I hate to admit that it was during my early days of shifting and my despicable MHA phase... I had all these mfs in a room and said "I'll feel hands on my cheeks once I shift." And one night I layed there on my back, listening to a sub, and imagining someone holding my face like that. And soon enough I felt it and heard voices. THANK GOD I FREAKED AND CANCELED IT!!!!
That's pretty much all. Love ya <3
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cakeinthevoid · 1 year ago
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A Collection
Welcome to the writing side-blog! Main is @cauliflowermaterial, so that's how you'll know I'm following you.
I write snippets of larger stories that live in my brain and for prompts. I'll be reblogging whatever I like here—mainly writing prompts, dialogue lines, and angst.
AO3 account is under the same name (CakeintheVoid)
Masterlists/writing below the cut:
My Stories:
Sticks and Stones -> Set in a fantasy world that follows Liam, a cynical sculptor who, as a result of elaborate scheming, is forced to be a resident artist for an extravagant baron who loves to host parties that are the talk of the town.
Includes: art, some magic, parties
Carrie and Willow! -> Follow Carrie, a product of the institute and caretaker to various patients that need specialized/individual care. They receive Willow, who doesn't seem to speak at all—and who is rated a a danger to public safety. Can Carrie help them find themself again?
Includes: recovery, rehabilitation, non-verbal whumpee, caretaker&whumpee, and interactive prompt fills! Find it by searching for #Carrie and/or #Willow
Still Feel -> Revolves about the life of Lora, a young human who gets turned into a skeleton by more than mad scientist Dr Abberon.
Includes: medical experimentation, transformation, magic, found family, a whole load of angst, and eventual recovery.
Vigilante -> Takes place in V.E. Schwab's world in the Villains series, post Vengeful. Follow Auretta, a girl who was strangled to death and resuscitated—now she has air manipulation powers. It's all about finding community and acceptance (...with angst and hurt/comfort, and perhaps some canon character cameos)
Includes: sketchy thesis projects, captivity and restraints, superpowers, heroes and villains, and becoming powerful.
Running Like a Light -> Follow the escape of an alien from captivity after being bought and sold to space pirates.
Includes: mage activities, bodily harm, disability, abuse, violence, adventure and finding a new way to live.
Warm-Ups and Oneshots:
It Was Literally Just a Pen
Cry, Baby, Cry
Drink Rum, Drink Rum, Drink Rum and some other Whumptober2023 one shots. I could only do about the first week of the event.
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This is a new pinned post because we are going into phase two** of the blog :) Everything before this point will have the 'in the void' tag.
(I'm not doing that anymore)
Trying my best with the tag system but since this blog is just a fun side thing for me, I'm not going to try and go crazy with it. For my own sake, below are some blog tags:
#my cake (for anything I write myself hehe)
#answered — for ask responses
#not my cake — not my writing tag
#writing prompt
#whump prompt — tagged separately from average writing prompts
#whump — there's enough of it to justify it
+ wip names, oc names, and media
Cheers if you made it this far!
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yoredoesmore · 2 months ago
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i want to post on this account again but i have like zero motivation to write about hoshina im kinda out of that phase... (it will surely come back)
i just finished binging all of dr. stone and lord have mercy why is everyone so fine (Im looking at you ukyo and ryusui)
i want to open my requests again but i can't promise that i will do all of them (or any at all) but u guys have given me so much love even during my absence that i feel like i have to give back to it
i apologize for not fulfilling the remaining requests. i tried writing them but i wrote complete garbage, grammatically and lyrically. i hope you guys can forgive me.
I'm gonna try and lock in
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doublegoblin · 1 year ago
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aries, gemini, and pisces for the zodiac asks? (from @catchingbigfish)
Thanks for the ask mysterious sunglass person~ @catchingbigfish (idk how anons work for the sender so I just tagged you again just in case)
aries: when have you felt the most confident in your writing? when have you felt the least confident?
So something that was surprising for me was how comfortable I felt describing scenery or at least trying to get the vibe of it. In a sense I felt like an artist with their brush or pen and as I ran it along the canvas the image just kind of spills out and engulfs the white. When I was first getting started I hated the idea of talking about the setting and making notes of where the POV is meant to be. The more I did it though, and stepped out from my own internal voice, it's my jam honestly.
Least confident would have to be character descriptions and/or pacing. I just dislike the idea of personally setting a characters appearance in stone (no idea just vibes). Pacing because I have the ADHD and want to get to the new part NOW (something I am working on while editing lol)
gemini: how often will your plot change throughout the course of writing?
One-offs, not a lot.
My WIPs, it really depends. Rituals and Red Tape has gone through about 4-5 changes as I've written it. It all comes down to if I've had a bolt of inspiration or as I'm writing the core concept has became more forward.
Interacting with others in a text base medium? All the time!
pisces: how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?
Ooooooh man I was hoping for this one, idk why, always assume vibes.
So it's a little of both and a third thing! It also depends on what exactly I'm writing and if it is a scene I know I want to write or if it's something that is emergent. How it usually goes though is I have a scene in mind, just like the thin vapours of one. An example of this would be in Rituals and Red Tape when Alex (POV char for those who I haven't beaten over the head talking about) is going to meet with their boss Dave for an employee review.
So boom, I have an idea of an idea. Then it often comes down to a song or some other media making that initial spark. I then enter what I am going to call the storyboard phase. Key moments and stills pop into my brain as the song plays (often I will keep starting it over to keep the juices going). Once I know the rough trajectory I open up the word doc and this is where the fun begins.
It is a full mishmash of movie playing in my brain and words flowing out all at once, they are indistinguishable for me at this time. I am no longer writing I am opening the portal and letting the contents become realized through me. I just kind of enter a flow state where (I am going to smell my own farts for a sec) I am no longer the author but the transcriber. I let the creative part of my mind take complete control, with no regard for grammar or diction. If it fits the vibe for the sentence to end. It does. I wouldn't call it a trance per say, but my internal dialogue is no longer my own voice, it takes on the cadance and tone of another (i.e Sir David Attenborough or Jacob Geller etc...).
Sometimes I even find myself typing to the beat of a silent score for the scene lol.
This kind of thing is also true for the smaller and more intimate moments.
Which this is all great and stuff, except when I get going while at work and then my lunch break is over lol.
so yeah...for lack of a better term, I kinda go full imploring of the muses. And I love it, honestly the most fun part of writing for me.
um tl;dr, I kinda go through the motions of animating, but with words.
THANKS AGAIN FOR THE ASK!
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portfolio-of-dreams · 2 years ago
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revival of you. | senku ishigami x gn! reader
w/c: ~700 words
a/n: this is pretty self-indulgent because I miss him. Senku, my beloved scientist. 
tagging: only tagging bestie, @arlertslove because they constantly fill my dr. stone indulgence
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It was a clear night in Ishigami village, small twinkling lights littered the sky like diamonds against a black slate. A small breeze brushed through the trees and waved the flag of science that sat atop Chrome’s hut. Senku was busy fiddling with the glass beakers measuring out the components of the revival fluid. 70% alcohol and 30% of nitric acid- which was converted from an ammonia solution and sodium hydroxide. This created an ammonia gas when boiled down, and then was filtered through platinum to create nitric oxide, which he boiled and filtered down again to create the final goal of nitric dioxide. 
“Who are we reviving Senku? You gotta tell me!” Chrome eagerly watched Senku carefully measure out the ounces to mix.
“Just someone I need around. They will be a big help to the Kingdom of Science, that’s all you need to know.” Senku spoke uninterestedly as he bent down to be eye-level with his beaker.
The formula had to be precise, down the last millimeter of an ounce. Anything less wouldn't work, and anything more may be explosive. If the nitric acid reached a concentration of even more than 10% by weight, it could combust while making it. Or even worse, cause an explosive reaction when poured onto you. That was a risk he wasn’t particularly fond of. He added the last droplet of alcohol to the mixture and handed the beaker to Chrome to carry. He started down the ladder of the hut, a curious brunette boy following his trail. They walked through the field of flowers they had taken Rumi when she got better, walked through the unexplored forest and down to the river. Down to where you were.
Seated against a strong oak tree, was you. Already dressed and prepared to be revived. Chrome watched as Senku stepped lightly towards you, almost afraid of the ground around you collapsing underneath him. He held out his hand to take the fluid from Chrome, and carefully poured it over your head. He watched as the mixture ran down your forehead and fell into the crevices of stone along your chest. Slowly, small cracks formed and stone pieces began to fall around you. You took a shallow breath, eyes glued to the sky as the moon phase seemingly shifted in your view.
“Have a nice nap, my little cherub?” Senku smiled softly at you, crimson eyes reflected the soft glow from above.
“The North Star is off, Senku. How long has it been?” Your face finally dipped to meet his.
“Long enough. Welcome to the Kingdom of Science, y/n. Get excited.” That familiar smirk spread across his lips. You smiled and when the final piece of stone fell, you jumped into his arms. “Hey. Hold on, that’s not necessary.” His face slightly flushed.
“Oh. I see now. Are you sure science needs them, or did you just miss ‘your little cherub’?” Chrome spoke teasingly towards Senku as he clasped his hands together and batted his eyes.
Senku was obviously annoyed, sliding his pinky finger into his ear and staring at the boy with devious eyes. “Wow, look at that rock. I can’t tell from here but it looks important.” 
Chrome, unknowing to Senku’s sarcasm, ran over to a pile of nearby rocks. Once his back was turned, Senku placed a soft kiss to the center of your forehead. A soft hum left your lips as you stood back from him, taking in his form. He didn’t wear the lab coat you’d grown accustomed to and his hands were more calloused and strong then you’d remembered- like he did heavy lifting. But his voice and smile were the same ones that he shared with you so long ago. You took a look around, nothing but jungle and rocks as far as you could tell. 
You looked back at him “Seems I have some catching up to do.” You smiled with an excited expression as you started to walk next to him, having Chrome run after you, yelling about some crystallized looking rocks. 
Senku chuckled under his breath as he watched Chrome wave a rock above his head as he ran to catch up. “Yeah, about 3,700 years worth of catching up.”
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angeli-marco-writes · 4 years ago
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Sherlock Holmes - Kiss Me, Mr Detective
A/N - Season 1!Sherlock, the cutie. And friends to lovers. Two of my favourite things. I do not own Sherlock Holmes, the character, the universe, the adaptations or anything: this is a work of fiction set on the BBC adaptation of Sherlock. Did I still write 8.2k words (exactly) for it? Yes. I also don’t own the song or the lyrics used within, and if you fancy it, listen to ‘Kiss Me’ by Ed Sheeran while reading.
Warnings - Bad language. Mentions of murder and drug usage. Mild angst. Smut, loss of virginity, masturbation, oral m receiving, penetration, unprotected sex, so 18+.
Summary - After a fight with John leaves Sherlock feeling particularly down, he calls on the one person who is always there to support him. Only tonight, it’s different. Feelings come to a head, exploration ensues, but is this just a one time thing? That depends on whether she stays the night...
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TO SHERLOCK, it’s just another normal day, whereas to John? He’d rather not admit how regularly these awful days roll around. Sure, the case didn’t go as well as it could’ve, and Sherlock admittedly could’ve made much more of an effort to comfort John after the apparent ‘heartbreak’ he endured. He just could not understand it. Why the hell was John so emotionally responsive to a case they’d been on for less than twenty four hours which turned out to be a bust anyway? 
“You are absolutely unbelievable!” 
“People die every day, John. You’ve killed people, as have I. It isn’t that great a surprise.” Sherlock deadpans, picking up his teacup, raising it to his lips, drawing a long sip from the warm liquid. 
“Oh, yeah, of course. The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.” John mocks. “Do you not even care that people are still dead despite the fact you solved the case?”
“They’d be dead either way,” he reiterates, “at least we got to them before they completely decomposed. Will me caring about them stop them from being dead? No, Dr Watson, it will not.”
“Sherlock!”
“John!” He mimics. 
John slams his hands down on the desk, shaking the wood and everything resting on it, surely sending the vibrations through the floor and notifying Mrs Hudson of their ‘domestic’ as she so likes to call them. The buffalo even begins to swing. John’s tea is long forgotten, but Sherlock’s is keeping him grounded, calm, as John waggles his fist in Sherlock’s passive, blank face. 
“You-” he pauses, gulping down breath. “You are a fucking machine, I can’t even deal with you right now. How dare you be so cold hearted and untroubled by this. You’re a disgrace.”
As if he hasn’t heard that one before, Sherlock scoffs. 
Placing his teacup back down with a clink, he stands, the darkness of the night, of the room, closing in on them both. Nights like these really are danger nights, any night John leaves him. That’s what's coming next, but there isn’t a thing he knows to say or do to prevent the inevitable. He’ll simply just text Her instead, she’ll keep him grounded. 
“Why? Emotional context? Emotion, whether of ridicule, anger, or sorrow, whether raised at a puppet show, a funeral, or a battle, is your grandest of levellers. The man who would be always superior should be always apathetic.” 
With a huff like a bull, John viciously turns on his heel, blaspheming under his breath, cursing Sherlock out. He reaches for his coat and snatches it off the stand, slamming the door open. 
“MACHINE.” John screams before pulling the door shut with a great slam, seething, the coat stand still rocking in his wake. 
John’s footsteps thunder down the stairs, but before he’s even gone, Sherlock’s phone is withdrawn, and he’s tapping out a message.
Can you come over? Please? SH
It wouldn’t usually bother him as much. The case didn’t phase him, at all, but John’s opinion did. It always does. But today was a particularly long day of being brutish and rude, cold and distant, his usual and true self, but John’s more and more impatient with him now. 
Being called a ‘machine’ is, again, nothing unusual, but this time it stings a little more than usual, especially after his recent arrest, and a fallout with Molly. He only has one person left, right now, who doesn’t hate him. His longest friend, the one he keeps away from it all so as to not tarnish her life with his misdeeds; Y/N, the one he can always rely on.
He knows she’s arrived by the sound of his window crashing open. Crawling up the bricks, skimming the drainpipe, latching onto the ivy; it’s her usual manner of entry. She never uses the door. 
Putting his cups and saucers into the sink, he makes his way through the house, opening his bedroom door to find her already sitting there on the bed, her coat hung up on the hook, her work clothes clinging to her body. 
“Hey there Mr Detective, you okay?” she asks as jovially as she can muster.
The way he ambles across the room, his dressing gown floating behind him, and slumps down onto the bed, instantly tells her he’s not okay at all. She can’t help but to look upon him sympathetically, edging a smidge closer to him, until he’s prompted enough to wrap his arms around her torso, finding his rightful place tangled around her. She knows him well enough - his past, and his current life - to realise she’s the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough around to do this with, and that brings her a certain swelling pride in her bosom, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sherlock as he feels her skin heat up against his cheek. 
It doesn’t take long, either, for his head to follow suit, burying into her chest. He’s always, always had a thing for her boobs, ever since they were in uni together. 
That’s something so special about the two of them, he doesn’t have to say anything for her to know he’s not okay the way he does with everyone else. And naturally, he can read everything about her in a split second.
“I’m here, bud.”
Above all else, he just needs to know someone is there for him in moments like these. The world is cruel to him, and Y/N wishes more than anything that it wasn’t. Upon instinct, her hands stray, one to his back, pressing against the silk of his dressing gown, the other cradling his long neck, fingers knotting in the dark curls there. 
She isn’t sure how long she stays there, simply holding him, feeling every twitch of his muscles, every breath of his against her skin, but she likes it. Of course she does, every time she likes it. Sherlock brings her an inordinate amount of comfort at the best of times, today is no exception, especially with what the day has held. Even when she’s the one comforting him, he doesn’t realise how much he helps her too. 
His flat is so familiar, his bed as comfortable as her own. She knows his sock index, she’s studied his periodic table over his shoulder more times than she’d care to admit, and she even has her own toothbrush in the bathroom in case she has to pop over for an emergency freshen up. Sherlock has, and always will be, her first port of call, and that she remembers as she shifts further onto the quilted bedspread, her phone on his oak bedside locker. 
His head begins to stir against her chest, his curls tickling her collarbones, small hums escaping his lips as he pushes himself up, his elegant yet trembling hands still splayed on her waist.
“I could feel your heart beating weirdly, what’s wrong?” he asks, quirking his eyebrows. 
“Just the usual.” she vaguely replies.
Sherlock isn’t having it, though, and scans her a little more. “You’re still in your work clothes.”
“Great deduction. I was hoping you’d go a little deeper, though.”
“You hate wearing work clothes longer than necessary, which means you had plans straight after work, considering you finished… five hours ago? That’s your usual time for today. Counting overtime, forty five minutes, walk to your car, another ten, but your umbrella wasn’t working, round that up to an hour, leaving at 6. You arrived home, no, not home, at your boyfriend’s house for dinner. However, you’re not comfortable enough with one another yet for you to use his shower, or perhaps you are, but you elected not to, and stay in damp clothes that only had seventeen minutes to dry with the heater on in your car for the journey there. You ate dinner, Mexican, had a glass and a half of five percent wine, realised you couldn’t drive, but you didn’t particularly want to stay. Nonetheless you sat and watched the telly with him for hours, football, I can see the dreariness in your eyes. I know how much you hate it, and frankly, same. You stayed for almost all of the match, seeing as you’re now sober, but something else happened.” She lulls her head to the side, prompting him, her smile not meeting her eyes. “As soon as the match ended, he tried to make a move on you, he pressed his mouth to yours, he tried to push his hand up your skirt;” his throat bobs with a vicious gulp; despising the thought of anyone else laying a finger on her, “you swatted him away, rightfully so.” 
He pauses a minute, his harsh tone of voice and his sharp face softening. He can see the vulnerability in her eyes, her walls about to crumble. This woman he appreciates so much. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
Smiling melancholically up at him, she brings her hand back to his hair, her fingers carding through the soft curls. His face buries back into her chest just as her voice offers a broken whisper, “I broke it off. I was the one who couldn’t commit this time.” 
And as she lays her head on top of his, her breathing more shallow, resounding in her chest, he dwells over those very words. The way she said them, not to mention the words themselves, hold a myriad of meaning. What could she possibly-
Oh.
The subtext, yes, impeccable. She’s always had a way with implications and subtext, always knowing that the likelihood of him actually picking up on it is little to none. But now, now he’s become trained to her, her way of life, her way of thinking, her way of speaking. This is too good an opportunity to miss. If she means what he thinks she means, ever hopeful, then this is completely unfamiliar territory. 
Gathering all of his courage in one deep breath, he begins to pepper kisses on her skin. The faintest brush of his lips on the tops of her breasts, all that’s available to him with her shirt the way it is. He feels her heart flutter, her breathing stutter, but despite the chemical flush of her chest, he still isn’t quite sure she likes it. Not until he feels her grip on his hair increase, and he glances up to see her head thrown back. Her spine delicately arches against his hand, thrusting her chest further into his face. 
His nimble fingers reach for her buttons, undoing the top two, giving him space enough to find the valley between her breasts. Lathering kisses there, licking the swells of her boobs, his tongue pulsates with the increased thrumming of her heart. The sensation is new, so unbridled, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with the stirring in his loins right about now. That unknowing is only further amplified by the sound that rips from her chest when he involuntarily bites down on the supple flesh. It couldn’t be… a moan?
Sure, he understands the chemistry of it, the reactions that occur in the synapses of the brain, the pheromones and hormones released when one is aroused, but this is all new to him. And, from his embarrassingly basic level of theory, surely that doesn’t start until some more stimulation on other parts of the body commence? Nipples, perhaps something lower down… then again, what does Sherlock know?
Of course it’s an intimate moment, the closest he’s been to a woman before, and maybe that’s why he freezes, stops, and she tugs his head up by his hair, her gentle, pleasured smile with her lips softly parted deepening the look of bewilderment painted onto his face. Her eyes are twinkling, alight with an excitement he hasn’t seen for far too long. 
“What are you doing?” she whispers. 
He shrugs his shoulders with a sudden force, his dressing gown falling off a little. “I don’t know. But now I feel like I read your pining words all wrong.” 
She gasps, a wheezing sound, sucking the air from the room. She smacks his arm gently, muffled by his button-down and dressing gown. “I wasn’t pining! I was saying.”
“Hmm, same difference.” 
Everyone must acquiesce when it comes to Sherlock Holmes. “But no, you didn’t read them wrong at all, but I know you don’t see me that way, you don’t feel things that way.” 
He pauses, his beautiful plump lips pursed, fidgeting on the bed. Brushing her hair off her face reveals the pain she expressed. However, her eyes glued on his, sadness is betrayed in every line of his young, clean-shaven face. His entire bone structure is taking a nosedive. 
“For you, I’ve been feeling everything from hate to love to lust, and I guess that’s how I know I want to hold you close.”
“Sherlock...” she whispers, her singular word an inflection of surprise. 
Never tearing his eyes from her, his hand comes up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the slightly blushing skin, searching her face, with his big blue eyes, for a shred of reluctance. But, all he sees is her, so he elects to do what his heart is yelling at him to do for once, and kisses her breathless. His full lips holding hers, his one hand on her face, the other still wrapped around her back. Hers fly around his neck, clinging to him for dear life.
It doesn’t take long, their movements steadily heating, for their previously slow, intimate kiss to grow into something more, Y/N pulling herself up from the bed and making herself comfortable on Sherlock’s lap. His breath hitches in his throat, a cute little hiccupping sound escaping his lips in between embraces. 
As much as he loves just this, soft caressing and gentle petting, he just knows she wants more. He does too, that much is evident from the length prodding at Y/N’s inner thigh as she moves gently on his lap. She won’t make a move, though, he’s too inexperienced, and she’s too much of a sweetheart to corrupt him, so she thinks. Ever since he first saw her, she’s been corrupting him slowly. He didn’t realise at first, but over the years, he began to understand, and now he’s in too deep. 
For Y/N? It’s always been him. Every breakup she’s had, she’ll come to Sherlock’s flat, full well knowing the real reason she broke up with them, because she couldn’t commit, because she was too caught up on him. 
Skimming his hands beneath her shirt, he savours the press of his hands on her bare skin, warmth seeping from her body into his, his fingers dancing along her spine. Electricity shocks her in bursts, unlike anything else, from his touch alone. 
“May I take your shirt off?” he asks. 
“Fuck, yes.” she groans. “May I do yours?”
“Be my guest.”
In a tangle of limbs, a few buttons pop off, and eventually, two shirts make it out the other side, tossed from the bed and into the laundry pile. Aka Sherlock’s floor. He’s like that: sock indexes, yet he won’t get a hamper. A walking contrast.
His thumbs press beneath the band of her bra, savouring the pressure of the flesh that falls into his hands, but that’s as far as he gets. 
“Never undone a bra before?”
He shakes his head sheepishly. “I know the theory. Just… you always wear peculiar ones.”
“I wear relatively normal bras, and this one is certainly bog standard. Had I known you’d be undressing me Mr Detective, I’d have worn something nicer.”
“Just do it for me.” He requests, chuckling. 
She unfastens her bra, and allows her breasts to spill from the cups, into Sherlock’s awaiting hands. The gasp that erupts from him sends Y/N’s brain into overdrive. He’s cupped her chest through her shirt before, buried his nose into her cleavage countless times, but never before have they had such skin on skin contact. Her lips press to his neck, shifting her closer to him. Sucking on his pressure point, she receives a similar gasp in response, only this one is more guttural, more a sound of pleasure than surprise. He’s wilting from a single kiss to his neck. 
“Has no one ever given you a hickey?” She husks in his ear, her voice alone sending tremors down his spine. 
“N- fuck, no.”
“I’ll make it worth it. All of this.”
“I know you will.”
She fuses her lips onto his again, savouring the faint hesitations as he grapples with his breath, eager to get some control on his mind with all that’s happening. Never did she ever think Sherlock would be here beneath her, his rough fingertips brushing over her peaked buds, and his palms dancing over her waist. Never did she think she’d hear him whisper his next words, either, not in a million years. 
“More.” he pleads. “Can we do… more? Whatever that entails?”
“That depends what you want to do.”
“Get me out of these damn trousers. They're rather uncomfortable.”
She snorts lightly, a piggy like sound, the one they bonded over all those years ago. “I can feel why.”
“I imagine you want out of your work trousers, too.”
“God, yes; they’re ghastly.”
“I don’t think so.” he hums. “You look nice.”
Her cheeks begin to burn, blood rushing to colour them, betraying her true feelings, but as he tweaks her nose playfully, the little snort escapes again. 
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They were in the dining hall, second week of university, almost ten years ago, and Y/N was sitting with her friends, downing enough coffee to sink a ship, eating her hangover away, when her friends decided to make her laugh with tales of last night's drunken events. Unbeknownst to her, one of the greatest minds of the twenty-first century was sitting just a few seats down on the half-empty bench, watching her perceptively in his periphery. That’s when he first heard the sound. The cutest thing, and it startled him into action, beginning his deductions almost instantly. Admittedly, her student ID on the table aided him a little. 
He shocked her from her haze, too, as soon as he spoke her name. 
“Y/N, eighteen, jurisprudence first year, freshers week over with. You left a boyfriend back home, but you’re more sad about leaving your dog, as I would be. You don’t particularly care about law but know it’s a good undergraduate to receive anyway. Dyed hair, extrovert, killer hangover, and apparently there’s a little piggy living inside your nose. Sherlock Holmes, would you like some aspirin?”
“That’s weird; what are you, some kind of detective?” She asked, sans malice, a playful bounce to her words. 
“Chemistry, going for a masters. But I do like the mystery, yes.”
“So you’re… bright. Nice to meet you, Sherlock, and it seems you know almost everything you need to know about me. But yes, I will take that aspirin, if you don’t mind. How was your weekend?”
He smiled at her, the first true smile he’d given in a long time. “It was nice, thank you.”
And thus a friendship was born, all because he heard her little piggy snort. 
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Her slender fingers work wonders with the fastener and zip of his suit trousers, and even manage hers too, all within the space of a few seconds, but Sherlock is reluctant to let her go, even just to get her trousers off. 
“I need to sit up, just for a minute.”
“No.” Sherlock commands, insistent. “We can make this work.”
“Sure we can, but it won’t be very comfortable. Come on.”
She’s barely peeled away from him and wrestled hers off before he’s drawing her back in for a kiss, his trousers settled just above his knees. 
“Sherlock,” she protests, mumbling against his lips, her hands on his heavenly, broad, muscular shoulders. “Sher!”
Her squeal at his sudden tug on her panties disappears, captured by his eager mouth. And in fact, her panties seem to disappear along with it, thanks to Sherlock’s swift movements and nimble hands. Maybe he’s had some experience to be so good at this…
“You sure you wanna go this far?”
“More sure than I’ve ever been. I need you.” 
He takes a deep inhale, dropping his forehead against hers, his breathing coming out in bursts as he tries to get a grasp on the situation. “Kiss me.”
She doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly getting to work on the waistband of his boxers as his tongue lavishes her own. His hips rise briefly, just long enough for her to tug the elasticated material from around him, slipping past her, and then he kicks it into their growing pile of clothes. His length falls into her awaiting palm, and-
“Wow.” She exhales in amazement. “If I’d known you were packing this much, I’d have jumped you long ago.”
“No you wouldn’t.”
“Absolutely not, until tonight I thought you’d just laugh at me.”
He pecks her lips affectionately, “Never. You’re bloody beautiful, I’ll let you do anything to me.”
“Hmm, anything, you say?”
Stifling a chuckle against her neck, he recommences, “Maybe not anything.”
Yeah, that's definitely the right call. Still, she finds herself all but clawing at him, her breath hovering teasingly just over his lips, their noses touching, her hands clamped to his cheeks, feeling the building heat there. She must be making such a mess of his bed right about now, but for one night? It can’t matter.
This is a one time thing, it has to be. Sherlock just needs to release some tension, she just so happens to be there. Still, she can’t prevent the little glimmer of hope shining through at the possibility of this being a more-than-one-time thing. The moral compunctions of their friendship after this don’t matter anymore, because he’s leaving a fire in his wake, his delicious fingertips digging bruisingly into her bum before trailing lightly up her spine, skimming her shoulder, brushing her neck - arched for him to reach where he wants, able to mark her as his own - and finally slipping over her lips, taken obediently by her awaiting mouth. Christ, if there’s one thing she hopes for tonight, it’s that his actions never relent.
Whether it’s what he intends to happen or not, his fingers in her mouth give her an idea, one she prays he goes along with at least a little, so she pulls away. The dirty, telling smile on her face hints at what she’s about to do, lending Sherlock to shift a little more up the bed, his eyes following her every move. Hands splayed on his thighs, her small fingers gripping onto the fine hairs there, she begins to take his tip into her mouth, never once breaking eye contact with him. Yeah, this is what’ll drive him insane. 
Inch by inch, she takes him into the welcoming heat of her mouth, pulling off slowly, only to go down again. She adds her tongue into the mix at some point, too, and her hand, on what she can’t reach, tickling his balls, but further than that, his mind is blank. Hot white, washed with pleasure. The sounds he emits are other worldly, so much that he has to muffle himself with his own hand; what would Mrs Hudson say? He’s always had such control over his mind and body, but this… he’s slowly losing all semblance of control, and he’s not even mad about it. What he does know is that there’s a building heat in his abdomen, a coil about to spring, and his cock is beginning to twitch. If she keeps going this incredible way, her teeth grazing him ever so gently, adding another new sensation into the mix, he’s inexorably going to finish before he can help it.
“As much as I adore your torturous ministrations, I think I need to be inside you…” He husks, his voice deep.
A smirk gracing her lips, she looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, mischief glinting in her pretty little mesmerising eyes for a second, before she hollows her cheeks and takes him wholly, allowing his length to slip partially down her throat. Her moan reverberates around him, and Sherlock begins to thrash above her, scrunching the duvet in his hands, not caring if it creases. If there’s one thing Sherlock hates, it’s creases. And being called a machine by his best friend. Right now, though, it seems as though every misstep in his day has led him here, into the welcoming heat of Y/N’s mouth, taking him so eagerly, her tongue lapping at the vein on the underside of his dick, a string of saliva remaining as she pulls away. 
“I think you’ve got a couple of rounds in you, Mr Detective. Can you do that for me?”
“Y-yes.” He stammers, his head tossed back in pure ecstasy a moment later as she begins to work on the head with kitten licks. “But… can I s- fuck me, say something?”
“I plan on it.” she chuckles, “anything.”
She goes back to peppering kisses all over his member, tip to base, brushing his balls, working her way back up. 
“Touch yourself f- for me.”
“What? Why?” 
Her tone is more inquisitive than anything else, but upon that playfully rueful look in his lust-darkened baby blue eyes, she knows he’s going to get her back for this little display, and he’s just worked out how. It works both ways, she can prepare herself for what’s to come next while pleasuring him. And he gets to watch. It’s a win-win for him. Maybe he likes this sex thing a little more than he’s letting on. 
“Are you sure you want me to? I’ll just make a mess on your sheets, Sher.”
She swallows him again, bobbing her head up and down on his length a few times while he grapples with literal reality. He’s teetering on the edge. One more move, and he’s a goner. His head is already against the wall, lolled there. 
“I don’t care about the sheets, darling, I need you ready for me.”
She gulps, nods, and reaches one hand around her, skimming over her stomach, until it nestles between her thighs. She rubs her thumb over his tip, collecting the pre-come beading there, while she rubs over her throbbing pearl, pressing softly. Then, as she inches down on his cock, taking him in her mouth, she also collects the slick from between her thighs, and uses it as a lube to push a finger inside herself. Of all the times she’s touched herself, she never imagined, even in her wild Sherlock fantasies, that she’d be doing it with his dick down her throat. With every bob of her head, she scissors herself more, sinking back onto her fingers. 
“I think I’m-” Sherlock begins to say, his words cut off by an utterly obscene moan splitting the air. 
She hastily abandons her one post, and wraps both of her hands around his girth, working on what she can’t fit into her mouth with her increased speed, licking and suckling his head as he begins to fall apart, coming, with a scream, down her throat, his one hand clamped over his mouth, biting down harshly to silence his cries; the other buried in her hair. 
His whole body falls lax, completely spent, meanwhile, Y/N savours every drop she’s been able to draw from him. He softens in her mouth, allowing her change to slip away from him, grasping a tissue from the bedside to wipe away any excess. That’s certainly something she never thought would happen… 
He’s calm, though, smiling lazily through hooded eyes, his breathing regulated once more, making beckoning motions to her with his big hands. He’s placated, though, and sliding her hands into his, she’s allowed time enough to get into place, smiling softly at him, raking her fingers over his scalp in a comforting way. Even as she sits herself on his lap, she can feel him hardening beneath her ass, slowly but surely. She was right about him, he’s definitely got another round in him. 
“Do you have a condom?” he asks. 
“No, sweetheart, they’re in my other bag. I didn’t plan on getting any for a while… do you?”
“Not in here, that I’m aware of. John may have stashed some in my less favoured dressing gowns or socks, and he definitely has some upstairs, but I’m unawares.”
“I’m gonna sound crazy here, but do we need one?” She says hesitantly. His eyes widen, he cocks his head to the side. “I was tested after my last partner, I’m clean, and on birth control. You’re a virgin. There’s no point, is there?”
“You have a considerably good point.”
With that, energy rejuvenated a little, he wraps an arm around her body, flipping them over so he’s on top, shadowing her, looming over her, gazing down at every inch of her naked beauty.
“Take your time. I’ll be your safety.”
“I know.” he whispers, a tearful smile making its way onto her face. “Thank you.”
He needn’t say more, because she already knows why she’s being thanked. For her kindness, for making him so comfortable, for accepting the fact he’s still a virgin in his late twenties and, if he’s being honest, has no damn clue what the practicality and reality of sex is. Sure, he’s seen porn. He’s also looked at John’s laptop. But that doesn’t prepare one for when the moment comes. It’s like all of that goes out the window, and he simply remembers the first time he opened a biology textbook at secondary school, pictures of flushed organs staring back at him, desperately waiting to be relieved. That’s what his own coock is like right now, already hard again, virtually pulsating with hunger in his palm. He strokes himself a couple of times, glancing down at Y/N’s wide eyes.
“Are you okay? Can I…”
“Yes, Sherlock,” she chuckles, “whenever you’re ready.”
Now, he thinks. He rubs two digits through her folds, gathering her wetness, enamoured with the way it glistens on his fingertips. Tentatively, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them to get a taste. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he moans. She’s better than any cup of tea he’s ever had. 
His cock slaps against his lower stomach pleadingly, so he grasps it in his hand, and begins to enter her, pushing gently, feeling every flutter of her walls. Her arms fly out, hands grasping his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons in their wake at the delicious stretch. It’s nothing like they’ve ever felt before. 
“Can I move?” He asks, balls deep inside her, their pelvises flush against one another. 
“Please.” She all but begs. 
Before doing anything else, Sherlock hooks one strong arm around her body, malleable in his hands, and holds her chest against his. Her breasts push into his skin, her nipples gaining friction from the dusting of hair there. Her one hand cups his slender neck, the other, his sharp cheek. Their eyes meet in a fierce gaze of burning intensity, and he begins to move. Slow, calculated, sharp thrusts punctuate her core. With every heavenly stroke, he can feel the ridges in her velvet walls, squeezing around him unwittingly.
“Jesus,” she cries, her clutch increasing. 
“Hmm, not quite.”
The smirk in his words is quite literally audible. He’s so cocky, so full of himself, and fuck if she can’t feel another gush of arousal coursing through her, drenching his cock. How does he manage to be so attractive when he’s so dishevelled?
“Is that good?” He asks, unsure.
“So good.”
She brings her legs up, skimming the clenched backs of his thighs, until they wrap around him, drawing his hips into her at a new and improved angle. Heels digging into the base of his spine, he begins to move with a new purpose, his thrusts more passionate as his breath is drained from him by her kisses, his eyes alight with a new flame. 
“Oh my God, Sherlock.” She pants, pulling him in for a kiss he greedily returns. 
He drives his hips deeper, squeezing his fingertips into her supple waist bruisingly. It’ll be a mark that she belonged to him once, even just for one night. That’s when he reaches that special spongy spot that makes her entire body buckle. She all but screams, pressing into him wholly. 
The coil is building, ready to break. He seems to be nearing the edge, too, his member twitching inside her when he buries himself particularly deep. She’s oh so fucking close… She licks into his mouth filthily, desperately clashing her teeth with his, eager for his kisses to tide her over. Silence her. Shifting his supporting hand, he trails one dextrous finger around to circle her clit, adding the faintest pressure for a moment. She mewls as he groans into her hot skin, clawing at him, entirely at his whim. Now he knows where to press, he settled his grip back around her, and draws her in close. This time around, he bends his knees a little more to measure his movements more carefully, ensuring that he ruts up and brushes her sensitive bud with his pelvis, helped by the extra friction of his neatly trimmed pubic hair on every thrust within her, his tip just scraping her g-spot.
“I- Sherlock, please tell me you’re- oh sweet mercy- close.”
He grunts softly in her ear. “So close.”
Their lips meet tenderly, passionately, in what they acknowledge to be a final kiss, moans mixing between them, savoured by the other. 
His thighs clench, her legs tighten around his waist, and finally, her sweet walls flutter, squeezing him as she reaches her climax, his not following long after, spilling inside her, painting her soft walls white, marking her. 
“Y/N,” he cries in ecstasy as his orgasm reaches him. “Sher…” she repeats, her saving grace as pleasure washes over her entirely. 
Their whole bodies wind up pressed together, bound together as one, skin on skin completely, becoming one another. 
He lets her down gently, unravelling his grip, unsurprised when their sweaty skin sticks together. Her long legs unfurl, splaying in a butterfly. Sherlock tumbles ungracefully away, somehow landing with a certain gangly elegance on the space of mattress beside her, his arm instinctively flying over to place on her stomach, the skin hot and flushed red. Her chest moves hastily up and down with the thrumming of her heart, while his barely shifts despite his shallow breaths, his white skin glistening in the moonlight. 
“Are you okay?” He huffs, turning on his side. “You look pretty fucked out.”
His baby blue eyes train instantly on her nipples, hard in the open air. This is the first notifier, the first inkling she has to feel self conscious, so she draws the sheet up around her as best as she can. Sherlock’s not having any of it, taking a stronghold on her arms, and pulling her until she’s lying on him, naught to separate them. 
“I’ve never been this close to anyone physically and y'know.” He hums tiredly. She’s never heard him sound tired before… 
She smiles up at him as best she can, “Are you glad?” 
He begins to hold her ever closer, squeezing her tighter, feeling every ridge of her body. 
“I’m so glad that you were my first, in so many ways.” 
Praise from Sherlock is a rarity, and she’ll take it as and when she can, savouring every moment, this time by holding him like a koala, her grip not wavering. 
“I’m glad too, Mr Detective.”
He brushes a kiss to her cheek, “As much as I like this, we need to get you cleaned up.” 
A supporting arm beneath her bum, he picks her up, and unsteadily ambles into the bathroom. 
“I don’t know much about this, but I know you should probably use the toilet, should you want to avoid a UTI, so if you’d like me to leave…”
He sets her down on the loo seat, cupping his hands over his nether regions, and he hurries to grasp for things, until she puts her hand on his arm, squeezing in a conciliatory manner. 
“You do remember the camping trip, don’t you? You really don’t have to leave just because I have to pee, you never did before. In fact, you frequently annoyed me with it if you had a particular point to make, steadfastly refusing to leave the bathroom after following me in there when I went to pee. Why does this change anything?”
He shrugs, dropping whatever was in his arms, “It just doesn’t feel the same now, though.”
“Ooo, and now Mr Detective feels things.” She jokes, poking at his ribs. 
He recoils, chuckling with her, “Only for you.”
As Y/N washes her hand, Sherlock begins to wrangle with a floorboard, clattering about until he eventually pulls out a small lock box, from which he withdraws a packet of brand new marks-and-spencer's ladies briefs. 
“Why the fuck do you have these? Anything you wanna tell me?” she asks, eyes wide.
“John’s idea. He has plenty of girls over here who frequently stay the night, simply a precautionary error.” He takes a beat, gargling with some mouthwash, “they’re clean, new, I just don’t like the idea of you in dirty underwear, and I know how reluctant you are to go without them whenever you’re not in your own bed. I stayed with you enough nights in university to know that.”
Those nights were awfully painful. She’d take the floor, he’d take the bed, and every time she’d have to wash the sheets. He’d sweat and vomit, shake and cry, plead for the pain to be over. He wouldn’t go to hospital, he wouldn’t call his brother, he’d just turn up on her doorstep, high as a kite, almost in tears, knowing he’d gone a little too far. And each time, it was a little farther. 
“Thank you, Sherlock.” 
She takes them from him, and begins to shimmy them up her legs, only prevented by Sherlock moving to grab a handful of her arse. 
“Hmm, I like this. Fancy another round?” He smirks. 
“I’m too tired, babe. Give me a bit.” 
He can see the lazy smile on her face, the tiredness in her pretty eyes, so he wets a flannel, and begins to clean her up with gentle movements between tender kisses.
“How do you know how to do all of this?” She asks, inquisitive more than anything. 
“Instinct, I suppose. I never read or learned about it, seeing as I never thought it would happen.” 
She snaps the waistband before moving her hands to his waist, leaning up onto her toes to reach him, kissing her softly. 
“Look at you now.”
After brushing their teeth in an amicable silence, their pinky fingers overlapping on the porcelain of the sink, he aids her back to the bedroom, settling her on the bed. She has things here: deodorant, toothbrush, moisturiser, and yet somehow she doesn’t have underwear, even after all these years. Perhaps that's one too many things to explain… 
With superfluous extravagance, he throws her his shirt, offering her a wry wink. She finds a blush clawing its way onto her cheeks, dumbfounded. It smells like him, just like a forest glade if it was rained on by tea and cigarettes. Maybe he’ll let her keep it as a memory.
In such a short amount of time, she’s learnt that he has a very sensitive neck. Very. A single kiss there has him biting back a moan. A low one at that, considering his deep voice also drops almost an octave when he’s aroused. His nipples are almost as sensitive as his neck, and he rather likes it when she tugs on them unwittingly. 
His first orgasm comes quickly, but his refractory period is astonishing, and it takes longer to achieve a second high, long enough to make her come more than once, she assumes, though her first orgasm was mind blowing enough for two. Perhaps that’s just because it’s his first time, but it’s impressive nonetheless.
What’s the point in learning all of this if, once he comes around from his post-orgasmic haze, he’ll pretend like it never happened, in typical Sherlock style?
The shirt, though a small gesture, means a lot, and her vision begins to cloud as she looks down at the black cotton. 
“You mean you want me to stay?” She croaks.
Sherlock turns to her from his set of drawers, his face full of apparent obviousness, brows furrowed in that cute bewildered way. 
“Of course I want you to stay.” He states, like it’s the plainest thing in the world, like it’s stupid for her to even ask. But she’s silent, and when she says nothing in response, he launches into a long winded explanation: don’t show sentiment. “I- I just mean, i-it’s midnight, I’m not having you out in London alone. You stay with me. Only if you want to as well...” 
She nods eagerly, “Yes. Yeah, course I want to stay.”
He all but leaps access the room, jumping onto the bed, before planting a proper smooch on her lips, grinning down at her. He slips into his usual side of the bed, and she takes hers, rolling to look at him.
“Don’t get cold.” He warns, tucking the duvet up around her shoulders. She giggles like a child, that small snort sounding again, prompting Sherlock to press his thumb to her nose like a button. “How are you… feeling?”
“I’m fine bub, really. That bloke doesn’t matter to me at all. Bit of a scumbag if I’m honest. You’re the one I’m with, the one I wanna talk about. How are you feeling? Must’ve been a pretty big blow up with John for you to call me and be so... teary.”
He sighs, crestfallen, “He called me a machine.”
Her gasp pierces the air, her hand flying to his hair, stroking in consolation, cooing senseless reassurances to him. She’s done this innumerable times, but now it feels different, like there’s no barrier. 
“He’s done it so many times that it needn’t bother me anymore, but the way he looked at me, like I was this abhorrent monster, especially after the day and the disappointing case we had, it got to me. I hate having feelings.”
“You don’t have to hide them with me, though.”
He hums gently, burying into her chest. “I know. That’s why I treasure you so dearly.”
“That means you also have to trust me, and you’re not going to like what I have to say.” His chest heaves, shifting her whole body. That’s his way of giving in. “Please just talk to John. You know that whenever he leaves, he’ll come back, and try to pretend it never happened. He needs to know you’re human and that he upset you, but also that the case upset you as well. No one’s superhuman, and once you let John in on the fact that you’re not a machine, things between you will be so much easier, because you might agree for once.”
“I suppose you’re right.” He grumbles. 
He pulls her into his warmth, hooking her leg around his as he snakes his arms around her back, breathing deeply from the crook of her shoulder. She begins to pepper kisses on his salty skin, savouring the taste with every small swipe of her tongue.
“Your heart’s against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck,” he breaks off with a faint whimper when she sucks a little harder, “I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet.”
“Of course they do,” she whispers brokenly, hoarsely, “they’ve always known you.” She swallows thickly, “Does that mean it’s a feeling you’ll forget?”
“No, I don’t think I ever can.”
The silent words that pass between them both are so special, too special to be spoken aloud. ‘Think I’m in love now.’
“Kiss me like you wanna be loved.” He begs. 
And really, who is Y/N to deny him? They just stay that way a little while, revelling in their lazy kisses, until she begins to fall asleep. It isn’t the first time she’s fallen asleep in his bed, not by any means, but it’s the first time she’s fallen asleep in his arms. She isn’t mad about it.
“Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. You were made to keep my body warm.” She smiles into her words, and embeds herself into him, entirely covered by the duvet, spattered in his kisses, safe in his arms. Sherlock feels safe with her legs around him, her fingers in his curls, holding himself against her. Amicable silence is how they drift off, Peaceful.
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John re-enters 221B at a respectable hour. He got a fair amount of sleep on Greg’s sofa, having no girlfriend in the picture right now, but not enough to deal with Sherlock just yet. Not before his coffee. He expects to see Sherlock sitting in the exact same spot as when he left, perhaps just with a refill of tea, his fingers still steepled beneath his chin, eyes closed yet wide awake. Instead, he arrives at a seemingly empty, considerably clean flat, with no Sherlock in sight. Perhaps the unsleeping man must actually be asleep, he thinks, so he quietens down, and toes off his shoes before wandering farther into the flat. Even if the man does piss him off extraordinary amounts, perhaps he should just check he’s okay…
He gives the bedroom door a quiet rap, listening in momentarily before pushing it open. Frankly, he’d rather have found Sherlock with a cigarette in hand and the whole flat torn to shreds for the level of surprise he gets upon reaching the bed. His first idea is to scream bloody murder, but that might annoy Mrs Hudson, and upon stepping closer, even in the sliver of daylight through the curtains, he sees the duvet riding down a little. The last thing in the world he ever thought he’d see: Sherlock in naught but boxers pressed against a half naked woman, his palm splayed on her bare thigh. Sherlock? Spooning? It seems so, his entire body pressed to this woman. John feels himself go rigid, his feet glued to the floor, his gaze unmoving from shock. 
It takes his phone to buzz in his pocket to get him moving, and when he does, all he tries to do is balance precariously on his tip toes in a wry attempt to get a birds-eye view of the whole thing. He’s not disappointed, or disturbed, once he does, though, his army agility proving useful. Sherlock’s hand is holding her, fingers entwined, just next to her chest. He wonders how comfortable it is, but if they’re staying this way, it can’t be too bad. Maybe all Sherlock needed to loosen up was a good shag. 
She’s wearing his shirt, too; Sherlock’s black dress shirt from the previous day. And Sherlock? He never seeps in anything less than a full set of pyjamas, he’s weird like that . 
This girl begins to stir, her lips parting gently, small hums escaping. Next, her eyelids flutter, and her hair shifts on the pillow. He didn’t make any noise, did he? John was specifically careful not to, just in case. He doesn’t fancy Sherlock’s wrath just yet. 
One eye opens, and she whispers, almost incoherently, “Hi John.”
How she knows his name and who he is, he’s not at all sure, because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen this face in his life. The hair is familiar, and maybe, if she were more awake, he’d recognise her smile, but he’s never seen a woman in Sherlock’s company beside Molly Hooper. Speaking of… 
Before he can even say anything, though, before he can ask who she is or if she wants tea or if she date-raped his roommate, she’s mumbling, and detaching her hand from Sherlock’s, rolling over. Dumbfounded, John just stands there and watches her cuddle into Sherlock’s chest, her arms wrapping around his torso like second nature. Even in his sleep, not consciously thinking about his actions, he grips her back - one hand resting just above her bum, and buries his nose into her neck.
John can’t help but smile to himself. Maybe their fight was for the best if Sherlock now has a girlfriend, someone he turned to for solace. So, he grasps for the top of the duvet and pulls it up over both of their figures, reaching their shoulders, and leaves, staring wistfully for a brief moment at the seemingly happy couple. 
The weight of the duvet of what startles Sherlock, though, stirring him a little, inviting him to him against Y/N’s skin, smiling with eyes barely open. This is really nice, he thinks to himself, not waking up alone. 
She smiles back blearily, and in her morning voice, whispers to him, “Kiss me Mr Detective.”
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sinnhelmingr · 2 years ago
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hel’s canon divergence shortlist - the mcu edition ; or, hel’s many mentions/appearances before she becomes an actual character in any of the films. spoilers abound my dudes, tread carefully.
first off for my own sanity i’m dividing this up by phases and then films hel has some influence or appearance in. that way i don’t have to waste a lot of time saying ‘n/a’. and with that said, on with the show.
Phase 1 -
Thor (2011) - Mentioned in narrative, appears in a post-credits scene having arrived for her father’s coronation and finding everything gone sideways. Scene includes Hel riding up on Helhest, coming to a halt before the Warriors Three, and asking what is going on within Asgard that no one will tell her where her father is. The Three all look at one another, shout ‘Not it!’ and scatter.
Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) - Mentioned,   active at this time under a nom de guerre in the European campaign. Leah Ironwood is a blink and you miss it Easter Egg on some report or mentioned in dialogue.
Avengers (2012) - Mentioned, though this film will later become a major plot point for her character arc, she makes no physical appearance herself.
Phase 2 -
Thor: The Dark World (2013) - Appears for Frigga’s funeral, mentioned in dialogue, but not particularly fleshed out. A crowd-filler for certain shots and little more, offering condolences and saying later she would like to speak about a matter -- implicitly visiting her father in his prison -- before being shot down and not seen again.
Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) - Does not appear, but ostensibly the events of this film would see her highly classified service history as Leah Ironwood become public record.
Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) - Once again relegated to a crowd/background role, appears only in the hallucination/vision of a certain uncle.
Phase 3 -
Captain America: Civil War (2016) - Attends Peggy Carter’s funeral, another non-speaking crowd shot to pile onto her actress’ IMDB profile.
Doctor Strange (2016) - Alluded to, but does make a more solid appearance in the post-credit scene. In my version of events, she is the one that takes Thor’s place, appearing framed in shadow and speaking of needing Strange’s aid, before stepping into the light, revealing herself as half-rotted, and finally stating that her family has interest in finding the All-Father--
Thor: Ragnarok (2017) - First feature appearance, as a minor.supporting character. Appears once Asgard has fallen under her aunt’s sway to aid Heimdall and the refugees, taking Odin’s famed Gungnir and acting as Heimdall dictates. Completely ready to take down Hela and wear her guts as garters to protect others -- or die trying -- before her dad rolls up in the ship to play savior.
Avengers: Infinity War (2018) - Once again a supporting character, Hel witnesses Thanos’ attack on the escape ship and the death of her father, before absconding with her uncle. from there, a bitter, angry Hel spends the narrative out for revenge, done with mortal drama, ready to knock Tony’s head off for Peter being involved at all -- and maybe being perfectly useless around lay Avengers. But mostly she is there to make Thanos pay, and by the end survives to fight another day.
Avengers: Endgame (2019) - Spends the ensuing years as an advocate and negotiator between New Asgard and the rest of Midgard, with only sparse visits to the location itself. Seems to be coping with her trauma by running from what her world has become, which sets up her own endgame. Support during the mission to gather the stones, and has her most stark break with canon: She, not Steve, returns to the past to be with Peggy. The end of her mainline narrative in terms of appearances, but RP and AUs are always negotiable.
Phase 4 -
Dr. Strange: Multiverse of Madness (2022) - Caiman Hel appears in a cameo as her universe’s Sorceress Supreme.
Television -
Agents of SHIELD - With all of the Hydra shenanigans going on in that narrative + Hel’s own meddling on Midgard at this time seeking answers for her father’s behavior, you cannot convince me she wouldn’t dust off the Ironwood name and kick some Nazi ass from time to time. More likely, however, is that Leah Ironwood gets name dropped in the espionage game from time to time for her missions against Nazis and early HYDRA .
Agent Carter - Anyway you will pry mine and Zen’s plot that Hel and Peggy become romantic for a short window of time during this era from my cold, dead hands. Hel-as-Leah absolutely became the eponymous heroine’s lover before being made to leave her due to pressure to return to her own realm at some point, long before she ever got close to telling Peggy the truth of who she was.
Loki - Has been trying to reach out to Loki and get him out of TVA custody. Has a decades long standoff with the TVA. She can’t defeat them, but she has dealt with every agent or anomaly sent to subdue her.  Is shown to have lived a happy life with Peggy and still be a part of Sharon’s life, living a normal Midgardian existence... Aside from the numerous agents buried across the city. First appearance of Caiman Hel.
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beauvibaby · 4 years ago
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hospital - m.barzal
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requested [] yes [x] no
a/n: so no one requested this, but (prepare for a little rant) the idea came to me while I was thinking of my next dr appointment, as someone who struggles with PCOS, and never see it spoken about especially among young women, I figured I’d write this as a little something to just make myself feel like I made a small difference in normalizing it. This is based on my experience from when I had my first ruptured cyst when I was 16, it was the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life (and that’s from someone who’s dislocated their shoulder 2x), I could barely stand, and the ultrasound was undoubtedly excruciating, yet I was never really diagnosed until just a couple of months ago, and as frustrating as it is because there really is no treatment for PCOS, I feel better at least knowing that there’s a name for the issues I have, rather than just having them and no definition for it... sorry for the long note hah, I hope you enjoy the fic!
warnings: hospitals, reader pain, mentions of sex (idk if I should warn that but I did anyways)
You finally managed to trudge out of the bedroom, you’d been feeling a little crampy all morning, even though you were still well over a week away from your period, you brushed it off, thinking at the worst you caught a little stomach bug. But it couldn’t be ignored anymore, “Mat?” You squeaked out, barely able to look up long enough to see that he wasn’t there, Tito looked over. “He ran down to the corner store.” He spoke up, glancing over and doing a double take when your hands gripped your side. You hunched over in pain, nearly falling to your knees, “Y/N!” Tito shot up, rushing over to you, he knew you hadn’t felt good, which is why Mat made him stay here while he ran out to get you some stuff. “Call him please.” You whispered, leaning against the wall, blinking away the tears in your eyes, Tito moved you to the couch, apologizing repeatedly every time you winced or groaned. This wasn’t a type of pain you ever felt before, it was sharp, and nauseating. Just as you sat on the couch, finally letting the tears fall, you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed, this was the worst pain you’ve felt of your life thus far, the front door opened and Mat walked in. He took in the sight of Tito kneeling beside you, phone in hand as he was about to call Mat. “Baby, hey, talk to me.” Mat rushed over, dropping the bag on the couch, he took Tito’s spot in front of you. He watched as you shook your head, crying to hard to speak coherently, “she needs to go to the hospital, she could hardly walk.” Tito explained shortly, “come on.” Mat didn’t hesitate to stand, sliding one arm under your shoulders to steady you. He walked slowly, alongside you, a million thoughts and worries going through his head but he didn’t express any of them, knowing you were thinking the same. “You gotta tell me where it hurts, princess.” He whispered as you hid in his chest in the elevator, you placed his hand on your lower left stomach, he rubbed slightly to see if it helped but yanked his hand away when you let out a strangled cry. “I’m sorry.” He rushed, sloppily tying your hair back, knowing you hated when it stuck to your face with tears.
Finally, you got to the emergency room and they took you back almost instantly, saying they needed to make sure it wasn’t appendicitis, which only made you more nervous, although they quickly ruled that out, thankfully, but the next concern was kidney stones. “We want to do a CT scan to check, they’ll be in to take you back shortly.” The doctor, who had zero bedside manner, disappeared the second he was done speaking, you had stopped crying, the pain not really subsiding but it was a mix of adjusting to it, and finally being stuck in one position long enough to not agitate it. “Hey, calm down.” You sighed rolling your head to the side, Mat’s knee was bouncing furiously, his chin resting in his hands. Kidney stones, if that’s what it was, you’d be fine, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t. “Sorry, sorry.” Mat whispered, sliding his chair closer, he leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “you’ll be alright.” He assured you, hating the pain you were in. “I’d switch places with you if I could baby.” He added, and you chuckled softly at the thought, he raised a brow at you, “why is that so funny?” He retorted, taking advantage of your momentary smile. “Because, you’re so whiny when you get a cold, if you went through this you’d go insane.” You giggled, stopping when it made your side shoot in pain again. Mat’s smile died down as well, pouting softly when you sighed, closing your eyes, only to be interrupted again by the nurse coming in to take you for the scan. Mat spent the whole fifteen minutes you were gone, texting Tito freaking out about how much pain you were in, Tito having to continuously tell him you’d be fine, you were in a hospital after all, they could give you strong pain meds once they figured out what was wrong.
When you returned, Mat helped you sit back on the bed, wiping at the fresh layer of tears on your face. The nurse smiled at you when his back was turned, you got that look a lot, especially from the older ladies when they saw how Mat would tend to you. “The doctor will be in soon to go over the results.” She spoke walking out the door, “that tube is so small.” You mumbled after a short silence, Mat laughed softly, “I know.” He’s had his fair share of scans over the years for injuries, “at least you didn’t have to go head first.” He pointed out and you shivered at the thought, “no way, not ever gonna happen.” You mumbled, you weren’t really claustrophobic, but the thought of being stuck in that tube with your arms forced behind your head made you cringe. “Well hopefully you don’t need anything from the hospital for a long, long time.” He sighed, neither of you liked hospitals, not many people did, but growing up you’d seen your fair share of them and preferred to stay as far away from them as you could.
***
“Good news.” A new doctor walked in, a female doctor, instantly your eyes shot to her badge, OB/GYN sewn into her white coat, you went wide eyed, Mat was too worried about what she was going to say to notice. You had a million thoughts running through your head, even though you knew you weren’t pregnant, they had done a test before the CT scan, but still for a second you panicked. “It’s not kidney stones, but we did find a couple of cysts on your ovaries.” She explained, you let out a sigh of relief before your next concerns started kicking in, Mat shifted awkwardly in his seat, even though you’ve been together for years, he still got a little pink at such topics. She started explaining how they couldn’t really confirm if you had a larger one that ruptured, causing your pain, but she was pretty confident based on your symptoms, then she started asking some questions, to which you could tell Mat was tuning out. But then one in particular made his eyes shoot over to you when you took longer to answer, “any pain or discomfort during intercourse?” She looked up from her clipboard when you didn’t answer immediately, her eyes darted between you and Mat, your cheeks a little pink as you gave her a look, that silently answered her question. “Not pain, but discomfort definitely.” You admitted making Mat go wide eyed, he staid silent until the doctor left, telling you that she’d be back with discharge papers soon. “Y/N.” He started, you looked down to your hands in your lap, picking at your nail polish. “Why didn’t you tell me? Jesus, how long has this been going on? Did I hurt you?” He rushed his questions together, you felt even worse for not telling him how, but you didn’t think much of it, thinking it was just an odd phase your body was going through. He felt terrible, suddenly feeling like he was forcing you to have sex, even though it didn’t feel right. “I didn’t want to say anything, it’s not your fault, I just knew you’d be worried.” You whispered, it was a stupid excuse but it was true. “Of course I would be worried! Do you really think I’d be so selfish about my own needs? How long?” He stood, getting a little wigged out over the sudden revelation, you looked away, only making him more stressed. “Like a month and a half?” You whispered, he froze, mid pace. “A month and a half?!” He whisper shouted, being mindful of the fact you were in a hospital. “I’m sorry.” You sighed, looking at him with apologetic eyes, he shook his head softly, sitting back down in the chair when he heard the doctor coming back in. She went over a few quick instructions, the usual if it gets worse or you get a fever come back, but she told you to schedule a follow up with your gynecologist, which you assured her, and Mat that you would do. The doctor could sense the tension, she looked over to Mat. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, plenty of women go through this and don’t say anything to their partners.” Her words visibly eased his shoulders, although in his mind he was still reeling in the fact that you wouldn’t say anything, especially for that long, he’d thought of all the times you’d been intimate and felt worried that he had caused you any discomfort.
The short trip back to the apartment was silent, he had his hand glued to yours the whole time though, which told you he wasn’t mad, but you still felt guilty, it was stupid, childish to not say anything. His phone rang as you walked into the apartment, he dropped your hand, you glanced back. “Go ahead, I’m going to shower.” You whispered, smiling softly, you really did need a shower, especially after sitting in the hospital all afternoon, it made you feel dirty.
“Hello?” Mat answered the phone, softly shutting the door behind him, he heard the water turn on in the bathroom, “hey, I just wanted to see how you guys were.” Tito spoke, oblivious to the bomb he had just stepped on. Mat couldn’t help but scoff, “let’s just say she was having issues and didn’t tell me, and I was possibly making it worse.” He explained without divulging any too personal information. “I’m sure she didn’t tell you for good reasons.” Tito responded, as best as he could without knowing the whole situation, “you sound like her.” Mat grumbled, earning a chuckle from his friend. “She knows how worked up you get, and with the season starting back up soon she probably didn’t want to distract you.” He assured him, “I get that, but I’m her boyfriend, she’s supposed to tell me these things, if this had happened during the season I would’ve been more distracted.” Mat rambled, Tito being the voice of reason for him. “Dude, you just have to calm down, it’s over now, don’t be a jerk, I’m sure she’s beating herself up for it now. The last thing she needs is you making her feel worse.” And with that Mat came to his senses, muttering a quick goodbye before going to the bathroom to check on you. He knocked softly on the door, making his presence known before he tried turning the knob, he furrowed his brows together when he realized it was locked. He couldn’t think of a time in your relationship where it had ever been locked. “Y/N?” He called, knocking again, he heard you gasp softly, scrambling around in the bathroom. “Almost done.” You called out, rushing to wash the conditioner out of your hair as you begged the tears to stop.
You wrapped a towel around yourself and looked in the mirror, grimacing at the puffy face staring back at you, it was no use trying to hide it, the knob jiggled again. “Baby, are you okay?” He had concern lacing his voice, you nodded, more for yourself, clearly since he couldn’t see you. “Yeah.” You mumbled, unlocking the door, he opened it immediately, the steam from your shower flowing out of the room. “What’s wrong?” He mumbled cupping your face, eyes searching yours for any pain, “you’re mad at me.” You spoke sheepishly, he shook his head. “Baby, I’m not mad, I was just shocked you didn’t tell me.” Mat assured you, feeling guilty for letting you think he was actually mad. “I guess I understand why you didn’t tell me, but you should’ve, you could’ve gone to the doctor earlier and maybe this wouldn’t have happened, I just feel bad for causing you pain.” He explained, lips landing softly on your forehead. Your gripped him a little tighter at the action. “I know, it was stupid, I’m sorry.” You sighed, he nodded, giving you a quick kiss. “Still hurt?” He asked, following you around like a lost puppy, you nodded silently, brushing your hair out. “You didn’t hurt me, you know? If it had hurt I would’ve told you, it was just different?” You tried to explain, seeing the wheels turning in his head. He met your eyes in the mirror, “I don’t know how to explain it, you wouldn’t understand.” You added lightening the mood with a laugh. He smiled, “no I don’t think I would.” He agreed, relieved to at least see you joking around. “Just promise me you’ll tell me if anything like that happens again?” He came up behind you, “of course bub.” You winced lightly, sighing at the continuing pain, they told you it would be bad for a couple of days, so you weren’t surprised. Mat on the other hand grew more frustrated every time it hurt, wishing he could do something. “I just want to lay down, please.” You whispered when he kissed the top of your head. He nodded and walked you to the bed, even though you were fully capable, you allowed him to have his moment of feeling like he helped. Which he did, just by being there, he always helped. It’s safe to say he was very hesitant to touch you for a while after that.
Taglist: @mtkachuk​ @softstarkey​ @literarycharleton​ @thathockeygirl​
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the-modernmary · 4 years ago
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my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 4)
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Chapter summary: The BAU makes it's plan to get inside your law firm, and you reflect on your previous relationship with Aaron — the good and the bad.
A/N: i'm baaaaack! this is a little bit of a filler with a hell of a lot of introspection + background on the past relationship with hotch
masterlist || read on ao3
'Cause the love that you gave that we made
Wasn't able to make it enough for you
To be open wide, no
-Alanis Morissette, “You Oughta Know”
~~~~~~~
The plan was simple enough. They had a warrant to bug the office, but lawyers are naturally suspicious, so they needed somebody who already had a rapport with partners to place the bugs. That’s where you came in. They were going to give you pens and other random office supplies with covert listening devices in them, and you just needed to leave them around. You were also going to wear an earpiece so that they could talk you through it every step of the way. Easy enough.
Aaron stood at the front of the room, his hands resting on his hips and his face stone cold. You had seen Aaron on television a few times when he had to speak to the media, but that was the extent of your knowledge of his FBI persona. You had never given much thought to his work life, and the only times he even talked about it was in passing. Watching him completely command the attention of the room was really a site to behold. Suddenly, you understood all of Aaron’s career changes and his unbridled ambition- he was made to be FBI Director.
You nodded slowly as you listened to their plans, trying to ignore the side of your brain that was screaming danger. You looked over at Aaron, hoping that he would understand your unspoken question and would give you an honest answer. When he met your eyes, he gave you a subtle nod, as if to say You’ll be fine, we’ll be right there with you. That was the only confirmation you really needed. Aaron looked so confident that it was almost infectious. Besides, a dead civilian wouldn’t look very good on Aaron’s FBI record, so you had to believe that it really was going to be that simple.
You took a deep breath. “Okay, I can do all that. I’m scheduled to go in this afternoon,” you told the room, avoiding everybody else’s eyes on you. You could tell that some of them weren’t totally sold on the idea yet.
“Good, that gives us just enough time to get everything set up. I want you all to go over the office blueprints with Y/N and set up a concrete plan. I don’t want anything left up to chance. While you do that, I will head down to intelligence with Garcia so that we can grab the coverts and prepare them,” Aaron said firmly, and you found yourself nodding along, as if you were a member of his team.
The way he gave orders was almost hypnotic because it was so different from the way he gave orders during sex. When he was with you, there was always a hint of affection and reverence in every word he said. Here and talking to his coworkers, it was almost paternal, like he was assigning weekly chores. You were getting a more full picture of who Aaron Hotchner was, and it was exciting, if not a little overwhelming.
You were torn from your thoughts at the sound of ruffling papers as Reid spread out the floor plans to the office across the table. The next hour and a half was spent going back and forth with the group of profilers to see what the best course of action was. You let them take the lead considering you had zero experience in this particular field, but you were pleasantly surprised when they asked for your opinions, asking you whether or not anybody ever went in certain areas in the building. Working with them was easy, even with David Rossi clearly psychoanalyzing every move you made, probably trying to figure out how the hell you and Aaron fit together.
After figuring out the best excuses to get in each of the partner’s offices, the team had decided that you were prepped and ready. “You’re welcome to grab some lunch in the cafeteria on the second floor,” Reid told you as the rest of the team was slowly filing out of the conference room. “But the food’s not great, to be honest. The only people who ever really eat there are tourists and kids on field trips.”
You raised an eyebrow at him as you shouldered your purse. “With all that security, the FBI has tour guides?” you asked amusedly.
Reid nodded eagerly as he finished folding up the blueprints. “The FBI has actually had a tour component since 1937, even before it settled here in the Hoover building. After 9/11, they stopped the tours and closed the building to the public and didn’t reopen until 2008 when the FBI made the Education Center. It closed and was redesigned multiple times since then, and now it’s known as the FBI Experience. You have to contact your congressman to request a tour at least four weeks in advance so that the FBI can do a background check,” he said quickly, his hands doing half of the talking for him.
You laughed as the two of you made your way to the door. Aaron had mentioned something about the genius Dr. Reid in passing, and he was just as amusing and endearing as Aaron said he was. “That sounds like a lot of work. If that’s the case, then I might have better luck just asking one of you to give me a tour after this whole thing is done. You sound like you know more than the tour guides anyways.”
Reid stood up a little taller at the compliment, but your focus was immediately drawn to Aaron’s office. Specifically, Aaron, in his office, alone, with the blinds shut and the door wide open. You had promised to be on your best behavior, but the temptation was almost too much. You wanted to see more of Hotch, the FBI agent. “Excuse me for a second, Doctor,” you mumbled, flashing him an innocent smile.
Spencer gave you a small wave as you walked off, headed straight for Aaron’s office, your heels clicking rhythmically on the floor. As if sensing your presence, Aaron’s head shot up the second you stepped into his office, his face void of all emotions. You shut the door slowly behind you, having to hide your smile when you saw him shift in his seat nervously. “Y/N, this isn’t the place-”
You held both of your hands up as you made your way towards his desk. “Don’t worry, Agent. I didn’t come here with the intention to seduce you in front of all your coworkers,” you promised. “Although that can always be arranged.”
You were rewarded with a small grin from Aaron and something that was close to laughter, although it just sounded more like an exhale. “How can I help you?” he asked, unable to mask the lightheartedness in his words.
You sat on the edge of his desk. “Well, I’m going to be rubbing shoulders with a potential serial killer for the rest of the day. Don’t I get a kiss for good luck? Doesn’t even have to be a kiss on the mouth,” you teased. Aaron tensed up. That was the wrong thing to say, apparently. Maybe he remembered that he was at work, and there was no room for playfulness in the FBI. Or maybe he realized that you would be the second woman he’s been with that he’s sending into a dangerous situation.
This was all new territory for the two of you. Previously, there were so many unspoken rules for the relationship, and that’s what made it work. It kept everything easy and fun and none of you had to sift through any baggage.
He didn’t talk about cases he was on and you didn’t mention Jack or Haley- not that you would even want to. He would order dinner for the two of you, but it couldn’t be from anywhere he used to take Haley. So that took away their Chinese place and their pizza place and, God forbid, their Italian place they went to for anniversaries- you preferred Indian anyways. Every once in a while, you’d meet up in hotels that were way too nice and expensive for a fling, but it was always somewhere out of the city, like Baltimore or Fredericksburg, because between the two of you, somebody in DC was bound to recognize one of you.
But there you were, sitting on his desk in the middle of the FBI headquarters, completely thrown off your game. Part of you wondered why he had wanted to continue this thing with you. It wasn’t some midlife crisis- he was too composed for that- and it wasn’t to help heal heartbreak the way it was two years ago. You weren’t complaining about it, though. There was something addictive about Aaron, something that made you think about him even when you hadn’t seen or heard from him in months, and a nagging voice in the back of your head told you that he probably thought the same thing about you. At least, you hoped he did.
You were so entranced in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize he was talking to you. You refocused your eyes and snapped your head back in his direction, where he was looking at you with worry in his eyes. “Hm?” you questioned.
Aaron’s eyes narrowed, like he was trying to read your mind. “I asked if you were sure that you’re ready for this? You all came up with a plan faster than I expected.”
You put on a practiced smile as you slid off his desk, careful not to rustle any of the precariously stacked files next to you. “What can I say, I’m a fast learner. Plus, I went through a major James Bond phase in 7th grade, so this is like a dream come true for me,” you joked, and that seemed to satisfy him.
His face softened, and you once again found yourself fascinated by how much younger he looked when he let himself relax for even half a second. “It’s going to be fine, and I’m going to be talking to you through the earpiece the whole time,” he said. It surprised you just how comforting that single sentiment was, but something about Aaron walking you through the whole process made it less daunting.
Casual flirting with him had worked at the beginning of the conversation, so you decided to try that again. “It’ll be like you’re whispering in my ear all day,” you mused, batting your eyelashes. “That’s kind of sexy, in an exhibitionist kind of way.”
Aaron chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Behave,” he told you firmly, but there was the slightest hint of playfulness.
You made your way towards his office door, throwing a wink his way as you did. “No promises,” you sang. “But I’ll do my best.”
After grabbing something to eat at the cafeteria- Reid was right, the food was terrible- it was time for you to head to the weirdest internship shift you’ve ever had. Most of the team would be in an undercover van outside of the building so that they could listen to everything. You were able to get a ride from Morgan in one of the FBI SUVs, which would drop you off a few blocks away so it didn’t look suspicious. The two of you made some small talk on the way, asking about school and life at the FBI, all very surface level stuff, but nice nonetheless. It helped calm your nerves.
After a while, he pulled over and handed you a bag from the backseat. It was a simple black satchel, not very different from the usual one you would bring to work. “Okay, here is everything you’ll need. You remember the plan, right?”
You nodded quickly as you put in the earpiece, trying to hide any signs of nervousness. “Yup,” you said, popping the ‘P’. “Honestly, this isn’t even the worst thing I’ve done while working.”
Derek chuckled, maybe despite himself. “Remember, we’ll be right outside of the building. Just treat it like a normal day.”
You didn’t think that was even going to be possible, but luckily, you were proven wrong the moment you stepped into the elevator.
“Woah, hold the door for me!”
You stuck your hand out quickly just before the elevator doors closed, and your friend Chris came barreling through. He was a third year when you were a first year at George Washington and the two of you met in your tax law class. You quickly became fast friends, and you met most of your law school friends through him. When he got hired as a staff attorney at the same firm you were interning at, you couldn’t have been more excited.
You clutched the satchel a little tighter, knowing full well that the entire BAU was about to hear this conversation. “Hey,” you said, your voice light.
Chris just raised an eyebrow at you. “Hey?” he asked incredulously. “That’s it? What the hell happened to you last night? We were all supposed to go out and you didn’t show up. No phone call, nothing. And then the only response we got from you was three hours later when you just said ‘Sorry, something came up, next time!’”
You sighed and reached over to press the button for the third floor. It was crazy to think that the interrogation had been less than 24 hours ago- it felt like a lifetime to you. Aaron’s voice came through the earpiece. You can’t tell anybody about the investigation. Make an excuse and change the subject.
“Sorry, mom,” you huffed, staring at the elevator doors. “I got busy, and I’m not attached to my phone all the time like a certain newlywed. How are you and Sam, by the way?” You looked at Chris pointedly with that comment and, like expected, he was frantically shoving his phone back in his pocket. Chris had gotten married two months ago and was still very much in the honeymoon phase.
Good job, Aaron said into the earpiece, and it made you smile despite yourself.
Which, unfortunately, did not go unnoticed by Chris. He narrowed his eyes at you for a few seconds before gasping. “You’re deflecting! And I know that smile.” He thought about it for a second before his eyes went wide. “Oh my god, you ditched us last night because you were getting railed.”
Your friends knew you way too well. You rolled your eyes at Chris. “Wow, that is a reach if I’ve ever seen one.”
The elevator doors opened and you all but sprinted out of there. “You’re not denying it!” Chris accused and you had to bite back a groan of annoyance. You loved your friends, but you did not want to have this conversation right now. “Come on, spill. What is their name?”
You heard Aaron take a sharp intake of breath. You weren’t going to tell Chris, even if you weren’t currently wired where all of Aaron’s coworkers could hear. You never told your friends about Aaron because you were worried about their reaction. They would have worried about his age, or if he was taking advantage of you, or if you were in any danger because of his job. They would have pressured you to pursue more of a “true” relationship with Aaron, and you weren’t going to pretend like that was even a possibility.
You liked Aaron, and it really seemed like Aaron genuinely liked you, too, just not in a way that would make sense to people, especially not your friends. Aaron was always nice to you. He treated you like an equal, not just some random college girl he was sleeping with. He was interesting, and being around him was easy. Aaron would invite you over sometimes and the two of you would just do your work while eating take out before you would have sex. Sometimes, you’d ask him for help with your homework, because there really wasn’t any better tutor, and he was happy to give it. At the time when you first met, the two of you were just kind of lonely, and it was nice to have somebody around who just got it.
You also liked the version of you that Aaron brought out- smarter, wittier, and even a little bit more put together. Definitely much more ambitious. And if seeing him at work was indicative of anything, you thought that he liked the version of himself that you seemed to bring out- more easygoing and playful, like he didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders.
And also, yeah, the sex was really fucking good.
You sped up your steps, but Chris was right at your heels. “You’re such a chismoso, but fine. His first name is nunya, last name business.”
You heard him groan behind you, and you turned around so that you were walking backwards. “Y/N, you suck so bad. This is going in the group chat, and we are going to find out who you’re sleeping with.”
You laughed, finally feeling relaxed and calm for the first time since you heard about this plan. “Mhm, good luck with that,” you called to him. “Now if you don’t mind, I have to get to work. Not all of us get paid to sit around and look pretty.”
“Yeah, you just get college credit for it,” he snorted and you just turned back around. You were sure you were going to get so much shit from your friends later, but the bag on your shoulder was getting heavier every second.
Placing the listening devices was as easy as they told you it was going to be. You were able to go throughout your shift fairly normally, sitting through meetings and writing emails, mostly. If you needed to get into somebody’s office, you would just tell them that they needed to sign something or ask them if they wanted any more coffee. The only times Aaron would say something into the earpiece was if they couldn’t get a signal on the device and you needed to move it slightly.
When it was time for your break, you flipped your phone over in your hands a few times, debating on whether or not you should text Aaron. You wanted to see him again. You wanted to hear him moan in your ear while his hands roamed every inch of you. You desperately wanted his mouth on you, his head in between your thighs. You could imagine Aaron on top of you, brushing your hair from your face, and telling you how pretty you were. Maybe you’d text Aaron later, when he wasn’t in a cramped van.
“Y/N?” You snapped your head up to see a woman you knew to be Julian DuPont’s assistant. DuPont owned the law firm, and he came from a very rich and powerful DC family. He was the whole reason that the FBI couldn’t just sneak in and bug the office themselves- he would be suspicious about anybody he didn’t personally know. Even having been an intern at the law firm for almost an entire year, you had only spoken to him one-on-one a handful of times. Sure, they were all positive experiences, but you knew he could lie to almost anybody.
“Yes?” you asked cautiously.
She gave you a sweet smile. “Mr. DuPont has asked to see you in his office right away.”
Your mouth instantly dried up and your heart started to beat so fast that you would have sworn everybody could hear it. “Uh… Yeah, of course, um… Did he happen to say what it was about?” you stuttered out. He was the first office you had placed the bug in. Maybe he found out and was about to fire you in front of everybody. Or worse, your brain supplied unhelpfully.
The assistant shook her head and guided you wordlessly to DuPont’s office. Stay calm, came Aaron’s voice through the earpiece. I will tell you everything you need to say if you get stuck, but you’ll be fine.
When you got to the office, the assistant close the door behind you, leaving you alone in the office with Mr. DuPont himself. He gave you a warm smile, which should have comforted you, but you didn’t think you had ever seen him smile for anything not related to winning a case or getting money. “Sit, please,” he ordered, gesturing lazily to the chair in front of his desk.
You tried to keep your breathing even as you sat down quickly, rubbing your hands on the tops of your thighs. It felt like you were in the principal’s office. You stayed silent so that he could have the first word.
“As you may know, I’ve been watching your progress very closely, both here and with your professors,” he stated, leaning forwards in his chair. “You’re very intelligent, and I think you have a bright career in front of you.”
“Thank you, sir,” you said, trying to put as much confidence in your words as possible. There was a ‘but’ coming, you felt it. You could vaguely make out mumbling in your earpiece, like the BAU were trying to profile what Julian was going to say half a second before he said it.
DuPont straightened out a pen on his desk- to be specific, the pen with the listening device in it. Your breath caught in your throat. “I would like to capitalize on that potential and have you work here after you’ve graduated, but I need to see how you do in an actual courtroom. Law students are allowed to practice law under the supervision of an attorney, which would be me. If you do well, and you pass the bar, you’ll have a job here as an associate right after graduation. Think of it as a trial run, or a try-before-you-buy program.”
You let out a sigh of relief, not even caring how dramatic it may have looked to Julian, and you closed your eyes for a second just to ground yourself. He didn’t know, it was just a job offer. The secret was safe. The earpiece went silent again. “Sir- I… Thank you so much. I would love to, of course. It would be an absolute honor.”
DuPont nodded and leaned back in his chair. “That’s good to hear. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend to. We will discuss this more at a later date.”
You shook his hand quickly before exiting, your heart pounding. You were going to need a drink, or five, tonight. Maybe it was stupid, but part of you wanted to hear something from your earpiece. It didn’t even need to be Aaron speaking, but you wanted somebody from the BAU to remind you that everything was okay.
Ignoring the questioning look from Chris, you sat down at your desk, attempting to process everything that just happened. Once the adrenaline went down, you let yourself get excited. A job offer, and a nice one at that, at a fancy private firm with a nice salary. You were set.
You grabbed your phone so that you could send the news to your friends, but a notification caught your eye.
From: Aaron Hotchner
Congratulations, associate. I told you that you’d make a wonderful lawyer someday.
To: Aaron Hotchner
Thank you :) You know this means I’m going to practice my opening statements on you all the time, right??
From: Aaron Hotchner
I’m looking forward to it.
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