#they love each other too much to allow the other to believe otherwise

[awaywithself]

after a real argument, a true misunderstanding that lacked the theatrical yelling and the kicking and slashing that often characterized their play fights, zoro and sanji leave to simmer in solitude. it’s easy to forget their anger, easier to forgive each other- harder to forgive themselves.

they’re both self-sacrificing and so self-critical, they’re disappointed and angry at themselves for the things they said, the way they behaved, the love they felt but failed to show. zoro makes his own food, feeling bad about desecrating sanji’s space but knowing he’d feel worse to assume that he still deserved sanji’s cooking- his thoughtfulness and his time. sanji sleeps on a couch, in a corner far away from their bedroom where there was no comforter, no warmth, no zoro, no love. the chill takes him to a place in his life confined by stone walls, and the punishment soothes him.

but they notice. and it hurts.

sanji puts away the sorry, microwaveable meal zoro had prepared for himself and cooks something kind and hearty, making sure to include all of zoro’s favorites. he packs it into tupperware so the love doesn’t leak out too much, staying nice and warm until whenever zoro feels hungry. he leaves a note and places it on the counter, removing himself from the scene. ‘eat properly, my marimo.’ when zoro eventually stumbles upon it, he sits at the counter, brows furrowed and chest aching as he takes his time to savor each bite, hoping that he’ll take long enough that he’ll be there when sanji next visits the kitchen.

at night zoro finds sanji on the ratty couch, trembling slightly from the cold but nonetheless sleeping. he shifts him, not-so-subtly prodding him around to make room for himself. sanji is roused from slumber, feeling how the cushions dip under zoro’s weight as he settles next to him, how his muscled arms wrap tightly around him and tuck him close. zoro buries his face in his neck and his broad figure shields him from the chill, protecting him from the emptiness of the room- his makeshift prison. ‘let’s move to the bed, dartbrow,’ he mumbles, and sanji fights tears as he nods, hand shifting to clasp around zoro’s and squeezing.

[nereidprinc3ss]

stakeout

in which spencer reid and flirty!reader are stuck in a car together with nothing to entertain themselves but each other.

fluff! warnings/tags: fem!reader, they have little crushes on each other, some of you will not like reader, but spencer does, it’s all banter, lots of teasing, playful insults, jokes about handcuffing so suggestive jokes i guess, so cheesy, reader enjoys flustering spencer, written with earlier seasons spencer in mind a/n: bandages!reader and spencer are so back!! i missed them!! this is SOOO cheesy! cheesiest thing ever! thank you to the person who requested this!!! thank you for giving me an excuse to just write cheesy banter!!! yyyayyyy!!! ilysm

“I am so fucking bored. Am I allowed to say that?”

It’s exactly the kind of thing Spencer should expect you to say, and maybe when you first joined the team it would’ve made him squirm, but now as you drop your binoculars and give him a look, bored, head tilted to shoulder, like you're waiting to be entertained, he only shrugs. Your insouciance is one of the things you know he’s come to love about you and would probably never admit. 

“Who’s going to stop you?”

You bump his shin with the toe of your leather boot and he glances down only momentarily before he’s raising his own binoculars to pick up your slack. 

“You. You don’t like when I swear.”

Spencer makes a face that you can only see the bottom half of. His voice is strained with focus. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Where? The faces you always make. You’re a judgy little bitch, you know that?”

“I don’t judge you for swearing. Frequent and creative use of profanity is correlated with a broader vernacular and greater social intelligence.”

“Oh, shut up. Yes you do.”

“You’re punchy tonight.” The leather of your seat squeaks underneath you as you slide down and groan, loudly. Spencer grimaces as he reaches over, gently swatting your shoulder with the back of his hand. “You should try to be louder. They might not have heard you.”

Your jaw drops indignantly. “Wh—the house is like 300 feet away! They’ve been blasting music all night. And not even, like… good music.”

“What, you don’t like death metal?”

You give him a side-eye. “Do you?”

He shrugs, giving up on the binoculars. A strand of hair has fallen over his face. You fight the urge to fix it. “I don’t know. It’s loud. And grating. And incessant. It begs for attention shamelessly and tactlessly. I’m kind of used to it.”

“Watch your mouth,” you scoff. “It would be a shame if I had to ruin that gorgeous face of yours.”

Spencer smirks and shakes his head disapprovingly, cheeks dusted scarlet. 

“You just can’t help yourself.”

“Who could around you, baby? Look at the bone structure on you. And those sweater vests. Can’t believe you walk around like that. It’s distracting.”

“Baby?” He grumbles, like he’s utterly displeased, but the way he’s losing a fight against that smile tells you otherwise. You lean your head against the headrest, boring your eyes right into his profile and giving him the opportunity for some searing eye contact, should he take you up on it. But for some reason, he can’t seem to look away from the steering wheel. 

“Do you choose them just for me?”

There are those pretty eyes—on you for maybe a second before they’re darting away. He fiddles with the binoculars in his lap. It’s adorable how much he doesn’t know what to do with himself when you get like this. Morgan once likened it to a cat batting around a mouse. Don’t play with your food, he told you. Take a little pity on the poor kid. He doesn’t know what he’s up against. 

But Morgan’s not here right now. 

“What?”

“Do you pick out your little sweater vests because you know I like them? ’Cause, you know—I also like when you just do a button up. The blazers, too. Those are sexy. But if I had to pick, it would be the sweater vests.”

You reach over to straighten out the grey one he’s got on right now, and he entertains your fiddling for only a moment before catching your wrist in a considerate hold. 

“Alright, can you—can you behave? Please?” He laughs. Unfortunately it makes your stomach flip. 

“Probably not. You could try cuffing me.”

“Or,” he begins, carefully pressing your own hand to your chest, “we could keep our hands to ourselves.”

You pout. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Where’s the fun in getting yelled at if Hotch has to come and unlock you because I dropped the key between the seats?”

“So it’s a maybe on the handcuffs?”

He falls back, eyes fluttering shut like you’re exhausting him, and offering you the perfect vantage point to admire that jawline of his. 

“Alright. Five minutes.”

There’s no way he’s actually taking you up on this. 

“Five minutes of what?”

His head rolls over his shoulder and he gives you a look of his own. “Of silence. I’m begging.”

Oh. 

Well then. 

You settle back in your seat and swing your own binoculars around by the strap. 

“You know, you’d be bored to tears right now if it weren’t for me.”

“I count myself lucky every day,” he says. And despite the sarcastic tone, you actually believe him. 

A moment passes, during which the bubbly tension of your shared repartee fades into a sincere comfortable silence. 

You kick your feet up on the dash. “How about I cuff you? Is that more your speed?”

You’re already grinning when he answers, not bothering to take your eyes off the house outside. 

“You are… astoundingly inappropriate.”

“Well a girl has to try, Spencer.”

[bioblsm]

WHAT DOES THEIR CAMERA ROLL LOOK LIKE?

❀ ꒰warnings꒱. boothill backstory spoilers, not proofread ಥ_ಥ

𖧷 characters. jing yuan, blade, dr ratio, ruan mei, aventurine, sunday, boothill

☆彡 notes. aventurine 🤝 boothill — being some of the most gay ass mfs i’ve seen in a hyv game (apart from bronya and seele) seriously their flamboyance still gives me whiplash…anyways this has been on my mind for months now but i’ve never gotten around to writing it!!! >_<

JING YUAN 𐚁 景元

[◉"] 2,304 photos, 83 videos

⌖ if you scroll really fast down or up his gallery, all you’ll actually manage to see is splotches of pink, blonde and silver

⌖ everything ranges from cute candid shots of yanqing (he takes multiple if yanqing’s fallen asleep while on duty), to sneaky pictures of fu xuan as she’s working where he’s in the foreground doing peace signs — the final picture of course being her looking at the camera lense directly to glare up at him

⌖ reaching weekends when he’s slightly a little more free or allows himself a small break to stroll around town, his camera roll is either filled with pictures of food he’s eaten or swords that yanqing may or not definitely ask about that he’s now more inclined to buy as he’s seen them in person (he’s a boy dad who loves spoiling his child, alright?)

⌖ the large majority of his photos unfortunately are work related, only really the recent ones being deleted from his gallery to clear up some space

⌖ however, while his photos are preoccupied with either his two kids or random scrolls with messy and rushed handwriting, each video is of you; jing yuan thinks a picture would belittle your beauty too much.

⌖ he needs something a little more real, a little more active and animated to help him quell the chirping loneliness that creeps up on his heart whenever you’re away from him for a prolonged period of time; if he’s feeling particularly mischievous he might sneak a quick but blurry picture of himself to send to you ♡

BLADE 𐚁 刃

[◉"] 9 photos, 2 videos

⌖shit is BARREN. literally a complete EMPTY VOID. if you snatched his phone somehow you’d assume he just got it despite him not having changed it ever since he received one

⌖ perhaps on the occasion you’ll find a cameo picture from one of the stellaron hunters as his phone is left unoccupied and someone decided to blast his entire gallery with their face (silverwolf specifically just hacks into his phone to keep putting random screenshots he’s never taken in his gallery to make him believe he’s taken them)

⌖ maybe sometimes he’ll screenshot different ways to die or health clinic locations he can avoid when he’s fortunately bleeding out but otherwise? nothing.

⌖ if you’re a massive yapper and love sending him pictures, he won’t go out of his way to download them for later usage (whatever that may be…) but he also won’t go out of his way to delete it if it’s accidentally automatically downloaded on his phone — maybe elios intended for it to be there?

⌖ it’s quite nice having a reminder of his significant other where he doesn’t have to actively listen to their voice… that’s a little exaggerative; but he loves just mapping out the features in your face, it helps him sleep just the slightest bit better with no ailment if he’s able to trace your features like a constellation on his blank, dark wall

DR RATIO 𐚁 真理医生

[◉"] 1000 photos, 100 videos

⌖ call it a form of ocd, but he NEEDS to have a decent ratio (i didn’t even mean for this to be a pun i’m so sorry) of his photos to videos; he doesn’t care if it’s 10:1, 2:1 1:5, he needs something that’s at least somewhat pleasing to the eyes

⌖ ratio immediately deleted anything he doesn’t need or thinks he won’t find use in for at the very least the month (this includes every single cameo shot aventurine or you have taken of yourselves on his phone without his permission, which by the way, he didn’t hesitate to scold you two for)

⌖ maybe if he’s feeling particularly loving (when is he ever?) he’ll allow ONE picture to stay.

⌖ his camera roll is purely filled with test results, written exams, student emails he needs to read over, things concerning the guild or the ipc and secret purchases of ducks he’s made (he’s not ashamed, he just doesn’t want you to know he’s buying ducks that are bigger in size every time so he can fill your shared bathroom)

⌖ realistically, maintaining such a perfect ratio of photos:videos is rather impossible unless you’ve got impeccable timing with things you save and delete so, in order to bypass this, ratio made a photo library to help serve as a base number of sorts

⌖ that photo library is of course a secret and locked haven filled with pictures and videos of you, none of which you can even recall taking. all of them hold at least some sort of significance to the both of you, but the ones that dr ratio loves the most is the ones that are just natural

⌖ the ones that show you being yourself, whether it’s where you’re cuddled up near a blanket reading something with a leg hiked up over the sheets or where you’re sleeping with your mouth wide open because you’re sick and unable to breathe through your nose properly; he loves it all

RUAN MEI 𐚁 阮•梅

[◉"] 505 photos, 28 videos

⌖ she tries to keep it as neat as possible; that means no sneaky pics taken of her by you, accidental blurry shots she’s taken (god forbid, those ones are immediately scrapped and done anew especially if related to an experiment of hers) thought that doesn’t mean she clears it in the regular

⌖ ruan mei actively saves any photo you send her, sometimes she’ll even screenshot the chat itself if she finds herself clutching at her heart as she swoons over a few lines of flirting that apparently you couldn’t hold yourself back from due to how much you missed her

⌖ she’s not someone really sentimental so despite having photos of her little cake-cat hybrids, she rarely ever rechecks them unless the trailblazer sent another report on their status to match

⌖ honestly her memory is impeccable to the point she doesn’t even need screenshot reminders of things like dates and experiments saved (would it even be called machine reductionist to call her a walking computer model at this point?) therefore, anything she saves that’s work or science related probably has more intricacies that she can account for

⌖ her gallery is a little boring otherwise. for someone of her morally grey standards you’d expect at least something worth mentioning, maybe even something dumb like a secret recipe she uses to make the sweetest (anti-truth serum…) pastries but no— nothing.

yet the reason for that is very blatant; not even her beloved has the privilege to witness her mendacity.

AVENTURINE 𐚁 砂金

[◉"] 8,793 photos, 777 videos

⌖ it’s a complete and utter mess to say the very least; dr ratio refuses to so much as glance at it whenever he’s near and topaz just gets an ick:

“how do you even manage to find anything?”

“luck.”

⌖ his photos range from absurd, to sweet to egotistical. things that remind him of you such as random rocks he finds, alcoholic beverages that have the same colour scheme of an outfit you wore the night before, an animal he saw that he swears if reincarnation was real would so be you

⌖ he has a specific library for just solely screenshots based off your chats, most of them including a significant amount of “i love yous” and goodbyes that promised a little something more when you met up next; everything that aventurine utterly cherished and craved

⌖ …and then the rest was either him showing the background of him photobombing others, pictures he took to send to you (or one of the ipc members to piss them off, sometimes even the trailblazer for a cheeky laugh) and on the even more popular occasion, all his extraordinary wins whether it be in poker, pool or uno

⌖ compared to his photos, his videos are slightly more interesting. a near 50/50 split that ranged between him telling dumbass jokes to piss off his coworkers, recordings of the back of dr ratio’s and or topaz’s head just for the future laughs (he likes the reminder that he does actually have friends and they aren’t just deliberate hallucinations born of loneliness).

⌖ but of course, all his “favourited” videos involve you somehow. sometimes it’s just a slip of your name while he’s sneakily recording a meeting, him telling you he misses you or vice versa, other times it’s just when he feels like he has a home. you snuggled up on his chest, hands intertwined together as your breathing nearly synchronises with him…moments where he feels as though he could forget the trademark imprinted onto his neck.

SUNDAY 𐚁 星期日

[◉"] 777 photos, 111 videos

⌖ now as much as i want to say “oh it’s all you! he has a special folder for you <3” i unfortunately can’t.

⌖ it’s almost most definitely videos of robin’s concerts, solo shows, videos he stolen off of audience members with good seats when he wasn’t available to personally hide in the crowd…a lot of the photos are also the same way; robin’s promotional pictures, screenshots from her recent advertisements and negative hate comments or news stories that he’s going to personally deal with later

⌖ that doesn’t mean he values or priorities you over his sister, absolutely not. you two are the only people in his life who he would unironically take down the skies and survive utter torment for if it meant your voices were the last things he heard as bellowing winds sliced past his eardrums to tune the world out in order to hear his own final breath

⌖ he tries his best not to be sentimental or nostalgic, as he’s been told as he grew up into the bright and maybe just slightly tragic and guilt-infested man he is today, those things in his eyes are an innate weakness of humanity. clinging onto something thats not tangible anymore.

⌖ but he can’t help but hold on to every video you send him. every picture of you smiling, laughing, every text of you saying i love yous, quoting love songs to him or showing him pictures where you jokingly said “that’s us” (did he tilt his head a few times when you kept sending animals to him with that particular correspondent message? perhaps, but it never made him blind to the intentions).

BOOTHILL 𐚁 波提欧

[◉"] 12,113 photos, 191 videos

⌖ he truly doesn’t gaf (give a fork) about how messy it is, all the things that are genuinely important are already locked and loaded into his noggin’, there’s no point in being frugal with the space he’s been given on a little cellular device

⌖ you wouldn’t believe it, but he rarely uses it unless it’s for emergencies. there’s plenty of trouble that comes around when you’re a galaxy ranger, which means having a constant tracking device on you like a phone that you update daily is a stupidly bad idea; which is precisely why his photo gallery is a mess

⌖ he quite literally can’t go in and clear it out otherwise it risks giving out sensitive information.

⌖ not applicable to you, that is. in boothill’s eyes, you’re an “emergency”. if you’ve texted him, it’s obvious you want his attention, which potentially means you could be in danger and he has to rush to the rescue like the flamboyant cowboy he is (no he absolutely knows you don’t need help, but there’s always that nagging “what if” factor, you know?)

⌖ he inwardly blesses whoever invented screenshotting because it would be an understatement to say that little as half of his gallery is littered with you. he’s just a bit of a boomer when it comes to technology like this, despite being a whole walking charging port himself ehem, so a lot of the pictures he has saved of you that you sent over whenever he cutely pleaded;

“missing ya, send me a lil’ somethin’ wont you?”

unfortunately are uncropped and framed with the outline of whatever messaging app you’re on.

⌖ if he lets you scroll up far back enough, maybe you’ll get to see just a glimpse of how similar his adoptive daughter’s smile was to his

© BIOBLSM ✮ do not copy steal or repost

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[dewdropdinosaur]

Kinktober Day 8: Cockwarming

Summary: You had no idea how you ended up in this position, slotted so prettily on your husband's aching cock as he left you to fend for yourself in the search for friction. Maybe you could convince him otherwise. Warnings: Cockwarming, the reader has a vagina, mentions of genitalia, pet names, etc. MDNI, 18+. You're responsible for your own media consumption. Kinktober Mention of the Day: @redvexillum Their writing is so scrumptious, I can't believe I am honored enough to exist in the same world as their masterpieces.

You could hardly stand it anymore, the teasing. How his smug smirk, nonchalant attention made your skin crawl in delicious ways that you wouldn’t dare to admit aloud. But he knew, you didn’t have to tell him. Your fingers dug into the plush velvet of your husband’s seat, weeping cunt slotted perfectly on his hard and angry cock. Hair disheveled, lips puffy and red from how hard his teeth had assulated them mere minutes ago…you couldn’t stand him anymore. 

The green light illuminated the office, allowing the soft pitter-patter of rain to take on an eerie glow through the oval window. Cascading streams of water glistened, letting the green street lights shake and shift across the floor with each passing droplet. When you had visited your husband late into the night, the Eye of Zaun hard at work scanning over various papers, you had no idea what would occur. With a steaming cup of tea in your hand, the whisps of steam wafting off it in a comforting air that could soothe even the worriest of worriers. You had crossed the hardwood floor, placed it gently on his desk as you propped yourself up on the corner. 

“Silco…it’s been hours.”

The world swam in that window’s green light, the hard maroon cushion,and those bi-colored eyes that penetrated your soul when he looked up to observe your form. Neither eye displayed much emotion to the untrained eye but after so long you could nearly tell what your husband was thinking. The orange eye held depths of a fire unknown and the loving rage of a thousand comets hurling towards each other with a fire too hot to be extinguished until they met. The blue, however,  the crystal blue one showed the most restraint surprisingly. You were wearing more casual clothes, a button up white shirt and a pair of maroon suit pants. Nothing you would have deemed anything worth the heated and lustful gaze you were receiving. 

“I know, my dear. But Zaun waits for no man.”

Filting around his chair, you sat in his lap, running your nimble fingers through the locks of his slicked back hair. Cooing softly as his head craned back in relaxation, you thought you had finally won him over for the night. 

“My dear, if you keep that up I will have no choice but to indulge myself in what else that heavenly body of yours can offer me.”

Choking back a surpirsed gasp, a frantic blush coating your cheeks, you halted your movements. You had no idea what had warranted such a bold reaction from the Industrailist, but here it seems that you had done something. 

That is how you ended up now, pussy full of cock, drooling onto the shoulder lining of Silco’s vest as he did nothing. Sliding slightly, attempting to get more friction, to feel him deeper inside you, his rough fingers came to grip your hips in a bruising manner. 

“Shhh now pet. You did this to yourself, looking so delicatable while I work.”  His breath was hot against the shell of your ear, one hand returning to scribble some notes down on the paper he was viewing while the other stayed on your hip. You let out a desperate whimper, grinding your hips down once more in a plea. Your nails dug into the fabric of his chair, tearing the material slightly. Growling into your ear that the friction you had caused, your husband roughly bucks his hips up into you. 

“Behave yourself. I’ll treat you well soon enough love…”

Guess you were here for a while then. 

[frost-queen]

Colours we aspire to be (Maid!reader x Benedict Bridgerton)

Requested by anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m, @erikasurfer

Summary: You are Gregory's maid and in no position of getting close to one of the lords at the house. Yet an artistic demand allows colours to explode with love. Growing closer to each other, you fall more in love. Knowing it is wrong. When Violet finds one of his paintings of you, she is over the moon. Her husband not so much, certainly not when his son threatens to run away with you. (apologies I changed it to Gregory instead of baby Eloise since I thought Ben would be too young then.)

“I’m going to get you.” – you called out playfully. Bended a bit through your knees, hands out as you chased after a young Gregory. Little Gregory of two of age, laughed loud, moving as fast as he could, hands bouncing up and down. You walked behind him making sure you weren’t catching him quickly. – “Gregory…” – you said sweetly, calling him over. – “I’m coming to tickle you.” – you teased making Gregory laugh even louder. His laughter filled the hallways. There was an open door as Gregory ran into it. You went after him, grabbing him from behind. – “Got you.” – you said laughing as you pulled him onto your lap. Smothering him with kisses.

“Ben.” – Gregory let out with grabby hands. It made you look up, gasping loud as you were unaware lord Bridgerton was in the room with you. Benedict looked away from his painting to the two of you. Barely fazed by the barge in, turning his gaze to his painting once more. You got up, curtsying deep for him. – “Apologies my lord.” – you said, keeping your gaze to the ground. Straightening your posture once more, you took Gregory’s hand. – “I shan’t disturb you any further.” – you addressed about to take your leave. – “It is quite alright.” – he responded, furrowing his brows at his painting. – “It seems I have lost inspiration anyways.”

Benedict took a step back to admire his painting. Sighing loud as he didn’t like one bit of it. – “I hope inspiration will come to you soon, my lord.” – you bowed to him, ready to take Gregory with you if Benedict hadn’t stopped you. – “Y/n, right?” – he asked not sure if he remembered Gregory’s handmaidens name correctly. – “That I am, my lord.” – you responded. – “Can you come and see what I am doing wrong.” – he asked, leaving room for you to join. His sudden request made you blink surprised.

“My lord I do not believe I will be of much help.” – you told him. – “Come, come.” – Benedict moved a bit closer, reaching his hand out to grab your wrist. You nearly tripped over your own feet when he pulled you closer to the canvas. Gregory having sat himself down to lay on the floor. – “Tell me.” – Benedict gestured at the painting wanting your opinion. You didn’t dare to look at his painting, feeling as if you were overstepping. Benedict took you gently by the chin, moving your face forwards to look. – “I want your honest truth Y/n.” – he took a step back to allow you to see.

You gazed upon the painting, clearly seeing he was indeed missing inspiration. – “What do you think I should do?” – he asked. – “I…I don’t know… my lord.” – you told him, taking a step back. Benedict moved closer to the painting to be able to look at you properly. – “You surely must have some insight? Inspiration or dreams to fill this canvas?” – he wanted to know. – “Girls like myself do not dream.” – you told him honestly. It made Benedict blink in shock. – “You… you surely must.” – he insisted upon. You shook your head to tell him otherwise. – “Everyone has dreams.” – he let out with a laugh.

“I cannot afford dreams, my lord.” – you answered returning to Gregory. You picked him up from the ground, holding him in your arms. Benedict kept staring, watching you leave with Gregory. You returned to the nursery with Gregory. Benedict left his painting for what it was, going downstairs. Edmund was on his way to the drawing room when he saw his son. Quirking his eyebrow up at his son’s expression. – “Is something the matter son?” – he asked. Benedict shook his head thoughtfully. They entered the drawing room together. Anthony sitting with Violet in the sofa’s. A young Eloise playing cards with Colin.

There was a knock on the door as you entered with Gregory. Violet got up, coming over. – “He has been washed and properly bathed, Lady Bridgerton.” – you told her, allowing her to take Gregory from you. Violet nodded, returning with Gregory to Edmund. You wanted to lower your gaze as your eyes locked on Benedict. He clearly was staring at you, a puzzling expression on his face. Quickly lowering your gaze, you left the drawing room. Waiting outside in the hallway till you were called back in again to come and fetch Gregory.

You were putting Gregory to bed, tugging him in when you heard the door creaking open. You just thought it would be Violet or Edmund to give their son a goodnight kiss. – “I’m just putting him to bed, my lady.” – you said out loud, rubbing Gregory over his stomach. You didn’t hear an answer, making you wonder if you misheard the door opening. You turned around, startled by Benedict standing in the nursery with you. The fright made your back hit Gregory’s bed hard. – “My… my apologies Y/n, I didn’t mean to startle you.” – he spoke with a sheepish smile.

“It is quite alright my lord.” – you responded, keeping a hand on your beating heart. Trying to steady it down as there was no danger. You stepped aside for him to say goodnight to Gregory. – “I’ll let you say your goodnights.” – you told him. – “I…I actually came here for you, Y/n.” – Benedict replied making you widen your eyes. – “For… for me?” – Confused you didn’t understood what overcame the lord.

Benedict nodded as you walked away from Gregory. Leaving the room, closing it behind you. Standing in the nursery, you started to collect toys from the ground to clean up. – “I…I came here to talk to you about your…dreams.” – Benedict spoke.

Stopping mid-way, you were stunned. – “My dreams?” – you answered confused. – “I already told you I cannot afford dreams.” – you reminded him, continue to clean up the room. Benedict came nearer, wanting to look at your face. – “But you must have.” – he called out as you turned your posture away from him. – “I do not!” – you made clear, not wanting to engage with it further. Of course you had dreams. You were just taught to never express them. It wasn’t proper for a girl of your station to have dreams. To see the world in a different way for it would only cause heartbreak. Benedict went around you to look at you once more. – “Y/n you can tell me.” – he said as it infuriated you.

“Why are you so interested in whether I have dreams or not?” – you told him, looking him dead in the eye. Benedict swallowed hard, staring into your eyes. – “I am insignificant…” – you added in a softer tone, holding a few of Gregory’s toys. – “Because I can see it in your eyes.” – Benedict spoke, taking a few toys from you. Tossing them into the play chest. His answer made you enlarge your gaze in wonder. – “There is a whole world hiding inside of you.”  – he said. – “There is not.” – you sighed out, tossing the last of the toys in the chest.

Benedict grabbed for your hands as your first reaction was to pull away. Remembering your place all too well. Benedict grabbed them again, lifting them a bit up as you didn’t pull away this time. – “I cannot have dreams.” – you warned him. – “Open yourself up to it Y/n.” – he whispered out, pulling you gently closer to him. Pressing your lips together, shaking your head, you couldn’t give in to it. – “Close your eyes… it will help.” – he told you.

You sighed loud, finding it extremely silly. – “If… and I mean if I let it out, will you stop bothering me?” – you wanted to know as you couldn’t handle his pestering you over silly dreams. – “I can’t promise you that.” – he answered making you want to punch him in the shoulder. – “Who’s to say what your dreams will be?” – he added pulling his shoulders up cheekily. Exhaling loud, you hated yourself for giving into it. You closed your eyes, pulling your hands out of his. Fidgeting a bit with your skirt nervously. – “When I… I close my eyes…” – you started hesitant.

“I see…” – you added, opening your eyes with a deep sigh. – “I cannot do this.” – moving your hands up, you gave up. – “No, no, no Y/n you were doing wonderful.” – Benedict called out, wanting you to continue. – “This is insane.” – you told him. He simply gestured at you to begin anew, moving aside somewhere behind you. Taking in a deep breath, you closed your eyes again. – “Every night…” – you began, biting your lip nervous. – “The brightest colours fill my head.” – you added with a bit more confidence as you could see explosions of colours in your mind. 

“I think of what the world could be, a vision of the one I see. All those dreams for the world I want to make.” – you expressed with passion. Benedict stared at you, envisioning your dreams along. A smile curled up as he felt himself fall in love. Slowly you opened your eyes once more, feeling a bit embarrassed. You were afraid to look at him, wondering what he would think of you. Benedict walked up to you, leaving a quick kiss on your cheek.

“You’ve inspired me.” – was the only thing he said before running out of the nursery. Shocked, you gently touched your cheek where his lips had touched. Benedict ran up to his room, taking out a blank canvas. The entire night he worked. First with pencil, drawing your face from memory. Then the colours came. Staining his fingers as he blessed the canvas with wonders of colours behind you. As if the colours were bursting out of you. For the world you were going to make.

The next morning, you were startled when Benedict burst into the nursery. Panting loud. The first thing you noticed was the paint smudges on his fingers and face. – “You must come with me.” – he said, rushing up to you. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you up from the ground. Already tugging at you to come along. You protested a bit as Gregory still sat on the ground. – “Gregory, my lord!” – you said firm, pulling yourself free. You couldn’t leave him alone. Picking Gregory up, Benedict took you by the elbow, taking you along.

“My lord you promised to leave me alone.” – you told him as it wasn’t your place to be this close to him. – “I promised no such thing.” – he reminded you with a charming smile. You panicked a bit, hoping no one would see you. Benedict wanted to push you into his room as you gasped loud. Holding one hand firm onto the door opening, not wanting to enter any further. – “I cannot!” – you made clear, holding Gregory on your arm. – “You must.” – Benedict called out, pushing on your back to get you into his room.

“My lord I cannot.” – you tried to make him see, holding your position with every might. Benedict sighed deep, tickling you under your arm. It made you laugh, removing your arm from the frame as he could push you inside. You stumbled into his room, holding Gregory tight in your embrace. Benedict shut his door, approaching you. You blinked surprised when he took Gregory from you. Giving him a soft kiss against his cheek before setting him down. – “Go play Gregory.” – he said giving him a little pat on the back.

“Drawing?” – Gregory called out. Benedict collected some paper and pencils, laying it onto the floor for him to use. You hoped he had forgotten about you, yet he hadn’t. Benedict held his hand on your lower back, moving his hand before your eyes. – “My lord!” – you yelped out as you felt him push you forwards. Hands waving around as you hated stumbling in the dark. He positioned you in front of the painting. Removing his hand. It took you a moment to adjust your sight. Eyes widening with a gasp at the painting.

In shock, you turned round to him as he stood very close behind you. Blinking bashful, you stared into his eyes from how up close he was. – “You are my muse Y/n.” – he said moving his hand up against your cheek. Shocked by the touch, you stumbled back against the painting. Panicking as it started to wobble, but you quickly steadied it. You were afraid to turn back around, knowing you would get lost in his gaze. Something you weren’t allowed to do. – “My lord I must go.” – you said firm, stepping away from the painting. You felt a grip on your shoulder, making you spin around to him. Putting your spinning to a stop with both his hands around your arms.

You wanted to look away, but those eyes were enough to make you fall in love. Fall in love with someone you weren’t supposed to. Feeling yourself drawn to him as he made you dream. Dream of this beyond your control. Aware of what you were doing, you shook your head. Backing away. – “No… I can’t do this.” – you said returning to Gregory. – “For you.” – Gregory said, holding up his drawing as you picked him up. – “Y/n.” – Benedict called out as you took a run for it.

He reached his hand out to you, moving it up resting it closed against his forehead with a deep sigh. You hurried back to the nursery with Gregory hoping no one had seen you come out of the lord’s bedroom. Panting loud, you reached the nursery, closing the door behind you. Gregory held his drawing in front of your face, waving it to get your attention. – “What is this Gregory?” – you asked with a smile.

“For you.” – Gregory said as you accepted it. – “My lords, Gregory this is beautiful.” – you told him with a gasp. – “And it is all for me?” – you walked around the nursery with him. – “Like Ben?” – he asked you. It caught you off guard for a moment. – “As beautiful as your brother’s paintings.” – you told him, giving him a kiss against his forehead.

Benedict slowly opened the door, peaking his head inside the nursery. Looking around for any sign of life. Specially yours. – “Are you in here?” – Benedict whispered ready to enter more if it wasn’t for his brother’s voice startling him. – “What are you doing?” – Anthony asked with crossed arms. Benedict jumped out of his skin, turning quickly around, closing the door in the process. – “Lo…looking for Gregory?” – Benedict replied with a sheepish laugh.

Anthony quirked his eyebrow up. – “Gregory is in the garden with Daphne and Eloise.” – Anthony answered him. – “And… and his maiden too?” – Benedict asked, knowing it might be a dangerous question. It sure made his brother look questionable at him. – “Why is it of any significance if his maiden is around?” – Anthony wanted to know, moving his hands to his hip. – “Nothing for.” – Benedict replied, clearing his throat afterwards. – “I’ll… I’ll just go paint.” – he spoke making his way past Anthony. Anthony watching his brother leave with a quizzable brow. Unable to grasp whatever his brother possessed.

Benedict decided to take the long route to his quarters, hoping to encounter you. He passed his sisters room as the door was open. He paused, staring inside. Eyes locking on yours while you were making up the bed with another girl. You noticed him as well, staring back at him. He curled up a smile at you. You granted him a soft smile back before returning your gaze to your duties.

Benedict knew he should move, but he couldn’t help but keep staring. Watching you make up the bed. Whenever he looked at you, he felt inspired. Wanting to combine his dreams with yours. The girl and you finished up, leaving the room. Benedict moved aside to let you leave. The girl curtsied before him before taking off. You did the same wanting to follow her when you felt a grip on your wrist.

Taking a step back, you looked down at his hand around your wrist. Eyes meeting up with his, you knew it was wrong. Pulling your hand away, you broke free. – “My lord, you mustn’t let yourself get carried away. It is wrong.” – you told him. What would his family think. What would his reputation be after this.

“Y/n… please…” – he said reaching for you once more. – “I… I have to get back to work.” – you finalised taking your leave. Pressing your lips together, you stopped yourself from crying. Knowing you were letting yourself get carried away by these feelings. So caught up in the colours. You dove back in your work, trying to push Benedict out of your head. Preparing Gregory’s bath up in the nursery.

Hearing the door creak open, you had little time to react as you got spun around. Seeing in the flash of a second that it was Benedict as he pressed his lips on yours. Holding you firm by your waist. Using your elbows, you pushed him off. Touching your lips in shock. – “My lord!” – you shouted. – “You mustn’t. Think of your reputation. People like me don’t belong with people like you.” – you remined him. It was just unseen.

“I do not care.” – he breathed out with a shake of his head. – “Every piece of you fits perfectly. Why can’t you hold me? Why can’t I kiss you? I wish it could be like that.” – he said beggingly. – “I don’t want to hide it away. I wish we can be just us. Why can’t I say that I am in love? Every time I see you and cannot be with you, I die a little.” – he finished confessing. - “We know this, my lord.” – you responded with a saddened expression. –“It cannot be like this.” – turning your head away, you didn’t want to give in to it. Benedict turned your gaze back to him. – “I decide what I want and it is you, Y/n.” – he whispered out before kissing you once more.

Violet was humming a song whilst passing the rooms. Benedict’s room open as het gaze fell on something colourful. Her curiosity took the better of her, making her enter the room. Eager to see what her artistic son has been painting. Violet gasped at the glorious painting. It took her a moment to recognize the face. Looking down, her gaze fell on another drawing. Bending down, she took it, seeing it was another drawing of you. Then she found two, three more. A smile curling up on her face.

“Violet darling?” – Edmund called out from the hallway. Searching for his wife. Edmund noticed his wife in his sons room, entering as well. – “What are you doing in here?” – he asked smiling. Edmund came to her side, looking over her shoulder to Benedict’s drawings. His eyes widened, snatching the drawing out of his wife’s hand. – “What is this?” – he called out. 

“It’s Y/n, Gregory’s maiden.” – Violet answered with a smile. – “This is…” – Edmund began. – “wonderful.” – Violet filled in for him. – “Horrendous!” – Edmund corrected her, crumbling the drawing in his hand. – “Benedict!” – he shouted loud, stomping out of his room. – “Edmund!” – Violet came running after her husband with worry. – “Benedict!” – he repeated loud.

The door to the nursery opened as the door slammed into the wall. Startled, moved Benedict away from you. Edmund furious as he grabbed you by the wrist, pulling hard on you. You screamed, falling to your knees by him. – “Let her go!” – Benedict called out. Edmund presented Benedict with the crumbled drawing in his hand. – “Are you in love with a maid?” – he wanted to know. – “What is the matter?” – Anthony came joining the scene, having heard the commotion.

“Edmund let her go!” – Violet insisted upon. Edmund inhaled sharp through his nose, letting go of you. Violet ushered you over as you ran over to her. Falling onto your knees as you collapsed into her embrace. – “No son of mine is loving a maid!” – Edmund made clear. – “Benedict!” – Anthony called out, agreeing with his father onto this.

“Edmund that is enough! Our son can love who he wants.” – Violet responded to make her statement clear. – “I’ll have her dismissed!” – he threatened. – “It doesn’t matter what you’ll do, father.” – Benedict responded with a glare. – “I’ll run away with her and marry her. I’ll make sure you won’t find us and you’ll never see us again!”

“Edmund!” – Violet shouted to make things clear to her husband. – “Look at the drawing.” – she ordered him as Edmund refused. – “Look at the drawing!” – she repeated while comforting you. Edmund flattened the drawing, looking at it with an annoyed expression. – “Tell me that is not pure love you see. Don’t we aspire for our children to love for love. No matter where she comes from or her status. Our son loves her, isn’t that the greatest gift anyone can give their parents?” – Violet said, defending you at every might.

“Father.” – Anthony said not wanting his father to change his mind. Edmund sighed loud, dropping the drawing. – “Love her with every might.” – he told him before taking his leave. A sign of him accepting the relationship. – “Father?” – Anthony called after his father, leaving the room. Benedict looked over to his mother, thanking her. She let go of you, giving you a little nudge into his direction. Smiling hard, you ran up to Benedict, throwing your arms around him. He spun you around, overjoyed that he could finally love you like he wanted to.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[reiden]

we bring our fantasy to life | s.hinata

Hinata has a habit of spoiling you, not only when it comes to material possessions, but with anything you wish for. And you should really thank him for it. It's only right, you think.

cw: 18+, f!reader, oral (male receiving) 

— ✦

The wind chime that hangs out on your balcony twinkles in a sweet tune, the sound drifting into your apartment along with the rays of the early morning sun. Hinata brought it back for you from Brazil; it's made of bells hidden inside of seashells, carved pieces of glass, and twine. It's charming in its own right, but it means more because he bought it for you. (It was the first thing he got with his first ever paycheck as a delivery boy, and he had messaged you about it too.)

You think he's always been too willing with you. Hinata always indulges you, perhaps more than he should. You try to gently chide him into not spoiling you so much, try telling him that he doesn't need to get you a gift whenever the urge strikes him; Hinata never really listens, just takes your lighthearted scolding with red ears and a sheepish smile. 

You can't really complain anyway — you quite like knowing he's thinking of you. 

As you lay beneath your comforter, head sinking into your pillows, you reach out a hand and trace a line down Hinata's bicep, following the curve of his muscle. The years he spent in Brazil turned him into someone new; he had come back to you stronger, bigger. He had come back with his instincts sharper and his smile wider, and his love for you nearly tripled, it seems. Something squeezes and shudders in your chest as you watch the subtle ways his face shifts in his sleep. His lashes brush the apples of his cheeks and his lips are parted slightly, shoulders rising and falling with each breath. He's every bit as endearing asleep as he is awake — and you can hardly believe he's yours.

It's a strange position to be in: to date someone with so much fame. The world is watching his every move and, by extension, they are watching yours too. Hinata never shies away from speaking about you; he posts you on social media, takes you out on dates. And people talk — of course they do. Everyone has opinions on everything and your relationship with Hinata is no exception to that. Some of them think you're too plain for a pro-athlete, especially one as prolific as Hinata Shouyou. Sometimes, you start to believe them. 

Hinata is every bit willing to give you the world, should you ask for it. And while you're willing to do the same for him, he would be able and you could only ever make a good-faith attempt. You can tell him time and time again how enamoured you are by him, how grateful you are to have him; Shouyou, thank you. Shouyou, what would I do without you? Shouyou, I love you. 

It doesn't really measure up — not in your eyes, anyway. (Hinata insists otherwise but you're allowed to disagree with him sometimes.)

Shouyou," you whisper, shuffling closer. He's so warm — you can feel the steady thrum of his heart beating as you slot your head in the crook of his neck. "Are you awake?" 

And then: "I love you." 

You bring your arm up and curl it under your head, the other skims up his shoulder and curves over his neck. You can feel his body moving with each cyclical breath; you wait for him to wake up. Some part of you wants to shake him awake, but you imagine he has several good things to dream about, and you'd hate to interrupt. 

The longer you stare, the harder it becomes for you to be patient. 

Hinata had returned a little over a month ago. You'd been expecting him for the whole week before he came back home, cleaning and reorganising your apartment, repeatedly checking your reflection in every mirror you pass by. You suspect that he'd wanted to surprise you, but — as with most things concerning you and him — he'd agreed to your whims and filled you in on all the details. You had waited for him at the airport when he'd arrived, and you had cried in his arms (which, you had immediately noted, had gotten much bigger in the time you'd spent apart) while he tried to soothe the ache of a wound that could finally begin to heal.

He'd called you every single night and yet, when he had you in his arms once more, Hinata had so much more to say. And you'd listened — hanging off of every word like missing even a second of him would break you. 

You remember how he was bouncing his leg in the taxi back to your place; you had assumed it was just his excitement to be back home. That could have only been half of it — he'd been more excited to get his hands on you. 

And as soon as the both of you stumbled past the front door, as soon as you had turned to welcome him home with a coy smile, Hinata was kissing you. He spent the next few hours simply learning your body once more: he'd mapped his love onto your skin long ago and now, he was retracing his steps, finding all the ways to make you squirm, whine, plead and beg. Embarrassingly, you were nothing more than a dazed mess at the end of it. 

"You're always so sensitive, baby." 

The memory of him rasping those words into the shell of your ear has you growing even more impatient. Involuntarily, your thighs press together; the ghost of his touch along your skin is fleeting — if you close your eyes, you can still feel it.

He must feel your insistent stare. Hinata stirs awake slowly, stretching his arms out first before his eyes even peel open. You watch with your smile hidden behind your hand as he fights sleep, finally meeting your softened gaze. 

"Good morning," you say first, lovelorn as you watch him smile. 

Hinata typically wakes up earlier than you. His schedule is a lot stricter than yours, and his discipline is stronger than yours as well. His body is used to waking up in tandem with the sunrise — you prefer to wait until the rays of sun greet you. But he's been given some time off, a short break to recuperate, and for once, Hinata had slept in with you. "Morning," he says, quietly though not cheerfully. His voice is gritty from the hours of sleep and the sound only lights a flame in your stomach. 

You make your move then, not wanting to delay it any longer. Hinata's watching you curiously as you shift over him, and make room for yourself between his legs. The soft wrinkle between his brows, the way he's watching you so intently, only makes that flame grow as it begins to burn brighter. 

He doesn't seem to put two-and-two together until your hands are sliding down his stomach, feeling the ridges of his well-trained muscles. 

"Hey..." he laughs, the sound coming out breathy and soft, touched with a kind of disbelief he shouldn't still have. It's almost as if Hinata can't believe he has you in the same way you can't believe you have him. "You don't have to—"

"I want to," you reply, fingers curling into the waistband of his shorts. You tug at it, lowering it down his hips and his thighs. The way Hinata hisses at the cool air has a shiver rushing down the length of your spine. "I didn't think you'd be hard already," you accompany your words with a soft snicker. 

Hinata whines in response, his hips chasing your fingers as they withdraw from him. "How could I not be? You're so hot—" his voice catches in his throat when you press your hand down on his thigh, thumb tracing his tan line. "Baby, please." You can imagine him now, standing on the sandy beaches of Rio De Janeiro, each grain easily felt beneath his bare feet. He must have been a sight to behold: sun-kissed skin, sweat perspiring on his forehead and over his back, mouth stretched into a self-assured grin. 

You’re jealous, really — you should’ve been there too. It’s easy to picture him there, basking in the sunlight; the fact that others had gotten to see him like that stoked the fire burning in the cavity of your stomach. 

“Can’t believe you woke me up just to tease,” Hinata pouts, sleep lacing his voice and making it sound almost stuck in his throat. He shifts his weight around, squirming as you skim your nails up his thighs.

You don't dignify him with a response. Hinata sucks in a sharp breath, "Where'd this come from anyway, huh?" 

"Just felt like it," you hum, kneeling between his thighs. You place your hands on his hips, squeeze once, and then smooth your palms up his sides. 

Hinata's skin is hot under your wandering touch. He's been good and kept his hands at his sides — an accomplishment for him considering how much he enjoys taking any and every opportunity to touch you. He stares down at you with a darkened gaze, his need for you written clearly in the deep brown of his irises. It's a look you've seen before, and one you will never tire of; it tugs at something deep inside of you, in the same way a puppeteer manipulates and pulls at the strings of his creations. You fall right in and you always give in. 

Your hand curls around the base of his shaft — finally, finally — and Hinata hisses once more. He's jumpy already, hips bucking into your hand as you massage the skin. The sound of your name falling from his lips only encourages you to increase your pace; his legs jolt beneath your free hand. 

Hinata's an eager lover. He's always yearning, hoping for more. When you're with him you truly feel desired, even at your worst of times. Your scent, your touch, your voice — this is all he knows. A low groan rumbles deep inside of his chest when you bend down, your soft lips wrapping around the head of his cock. You don't think he's really thinking when he jerks his hips up, forcing himself deeper into your mouth. 

You're breathing through your nose, fighting the urge to gag when you feel him hit the back of your throat. And you keep him there, nose pressed flush against his pubic bone where you can smell his minty body wash. 

"Move— please—" Hinata grunts. His fingers twist into the sheets at the same time you moan around his cock, and his hips lurch forward. "C'mon, baby." There's an edge to his voice, a warning simmering beneath the begging. Hinata knows how to hold himself back but his restraint is only so strong, and once the threads begin to fray, it's only a matter of seconds before he snaps. 

But that isn't exactly an unfavourable outcome. 

You hum around him once more. Hinata shivers. He mutters a curse under his breath, your nails dig into his thighs, and then his fingers are tangling themselves in your hair. His palm is insistent when it pushes down on the crown of your head, but he waits to move. Instead, he looks down at you with a silent question: Is this okay?

Your answer comes in the form of your tongue laving around him, running up and along the underside of his cock. It's all the answer he needs, really, and you go lax in his grip as he tugs you forward. Hinata pulls at your hair, manoeuvres you exactly where he wants you. His other hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking along your cheekbone, like he's apologising for pulling your hair and causing you pain. 

(Not that he needs to — the feeling of hurt blooming under your scalp had sent heat searing down your body, and right between your legs. Hinata's looking down at you like he knows it; he's wearing a wicked grin.)

He guides you, bobbing your head up and down in tandem with each purposeful thrust of his hips. Your eyes flutter, going half-mast, and all you can really do is stare up at him through your lashes; your eyes glisten with tears that have yet to fall. Hinata's movements are stunned and he wrinkles the bedding beneath you both as he moves. You try your best to rub your tongue over him in a way he can appreciate, suck sloppily around the base of his shaft before he's pulling you off again. Every noise is lewd, obscene, and when he pushes in too deep, you're not able to stifle the way you gag and your throat tightens around him. 

Hinata's quick to pull back, "Fuck, I'm sorry." But he doesn't sound quite as guilty as his big, brown eyes make him out to be — and the noise is not nearly as offending as it would have been in any other context. 

You let him use you; it's the least you can do, you think, for the way he treats you like you are the moon and stars. And it's not all one-sided, if the way your arousal pools between your thighs says anything. He's trembling and your heart is racing. "Shit— I'm gonna come," Hinata pants quietly.

You want him to, you really, really do. So you hollow out your cheeks and you suck harder, the tip of your tongue tracing a vein that circles around his cock. You can feel him pulsing in your mouth, tongue catching along the dip of his tip. Hinata lets out a shuddering breath that wanes into a weak moan, his cheeks flushed. You swallow around him and plant your hands firmly on his thighs. 

He comes with a strangled whine, bending his neck back and into the pillows. The taste of him floods your senses but you ignore the twang as you swallow, like it's second-nature. Hinata's hand falls from your hair, and he's looking down at you with a lovesick smile; you don't let up — not yet.

At least, you had planned not to but the hand cupping your cheek moves down to your jaw, gripping it tightly as he pulls you off of him. His cock is shiny with your spit, a thin strand of saliva following your mouth as you break away from him. 

"You're perfect, you know that?" he asks, grabbing you and pulling you into his lap with ease. "So pretty — my pretty girl." Hinata pulls you into a searing kiss, lips meshing with yours as he licks into your mouth. You moan softly, anticipation filling your chest; it feels electric as it sparks down your arms and down your legs, static in your fingertips. 

Hinata runs a hand down the curve of your spine, trailing his finger along the hem of your panties. He's not taking them off like you want him to, and you can't pull away to tell him to either. He keeps you in place with his free hand around your nape. 

You weren't supposed to get this far. The morning was meant to start and end with Hinata — it was about your appreciation for him. And yet, he's indulging you once again as you squirrel around in his lap. His laugh warms in your chest and your heart swells. You feel Hinata hook his fingers into your underwear, pulling them clean off in a matter of a few seconds. 

He throws you around with ease. Your back hits the mattress, your head sinking into the pillows he had been laying on moments ago. Hinata hovers over you, his eyes glancing all over your body and your face, as if he's seeing you for the first time. His gaze is sinister and the way his mouth twitches into a smirk has goosebumps erupting all over your skin. 

"I think I need to return the favour," he sighs, trailing fervent kisses down your neck just to get to the sensitive spot below your ear. You can feel Hinata smile against your skin when you mewl in response to his gentle bite. 

Your hands meet his bare chest, as though you're about to push him away. Maybe you should, he's giving in to you like he always does. But you don't and instead, you loop your arms around his neck, letting them slide off of him as your hands dig into his hair. Hinata moves down your body. "Shouyou — I was trying to thank you," you whisper, watching him press a kiss to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You shudder, much to Hinata's visible delight. 

"You can thank me like this too," he simply replies, teeth sinking into the fat of your thigh. You suck in a sharp breath, thoughts scattering quick like skittish animals. 

You hadn't thought about it until now — staring down at Hinata as his breath ghosts over your cunt. There's a faraway look in his eyes, his nails dig into your thighs, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so content. 

Maybe, when he indulges you, he's indulging himself too. 

[aphroditelovesu]

Yan!Mom Rhaenyra Targaryen/Yan!Dad Laenor Velaryon Headcanons (Platonic)

❝ 🐉— lady l: hi... So, it just freaked me out and I needed to write this, kind of like a base for Valyrian Heritage part 2... I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, unhealthy platonic relationships, mention of mutilation and war, messy writing.

❝ 🐉pairing: platonic!yan!mom rhaenyra targaryen and yan!dad laenor velaryon x gender neutral!reader, platonic yandere!hotd x gn!reader.

Rhaenyra and Laenor have always gotten along well, although not so close, they were always friendly with each other and even came to an agreement after their marriage. They would live their own lives and be free to love someone else.

The few times they slept together were not for pleasure, but to try to conceive an heir. And it worked, when Rhaenyra discovered she was pregnant just a few months after her wedding, much to everyone's delight.

You were the only child born of their marriage, well, at least the only legitimate one. There was no doubt about your legitimacy, since you were a copy of your father when you were born and became more like your mother as you grew up.

They loved you unconditionally, there are not enough words to describe how much they love you. They say you never love anything on the world the way you love your first child and that's true when it comes to your parents. They love all of their other children, but it's pretty clear how attached they are and favor you more than anyone else.

Laenor is the most attached to you, however, as you were his child. Really his. And although he loved your brothers who were born after you, there was no doubt that he preferred you above them all. You were the apple of your father's eye, you could never do anything wrong in his eyes and he will fight anyone who says otherwise.

Rhaenyra loved you with all her heart, the first moment she placed you in her arms for the first time was like a blessing, a gift from the gods old and new. You were her precious, her most precious treasure and nothing and no one will take you away from her. No one steals what belongs to a dragon and gets away with it.

You were not only spoiled and loved by your parents, but also by your grandparents. Rhaenys and Corlys adored you, simple as that, they spoil you more than anyone and always take you to Driftmark when Rhaenyra allows it. Corlys always makes a point of reminding you of your heritage, that you are a Velaryon, and Rhaenys tries to participate as much as possible in your upbringing.

Viserys loved you deeply too, considering that you are his first grandchild and he tries his best to be present in your life. He would often pick you up and sit with you on the Iron Throne, reminding you that one day everything would be yours. And he doesn't even try to hide his favoritism. He knew that if Aemma was still alive, she would love you as much as he does.

Alicent was excessively attached to you too, and although she had grandchildren of her own, she didn't even try to hide how much she preferred your company. Although she has no patience for children, she loves you with all her heart and strongly believes that Rhaenyra is not a good mother for you, a belief that became stronger after the birth of Jacaerys. Otto encourages Alicent's tendencies while cultivating his.

You were the example for your younger brothers, Jacaerys, being the second child, is the clingiest and most protective towards you. He had you first, so you were his first. Lucerys is extremely possessive of your attention and sulks when others get it. Joffrey is the baby and the youngest and so he wants to receive more attention from you.

Your aunt and uncles were very close to you, mainly due to age and because of Alicent's encouragement, who was always sure that you would grow up surrounded by her children.

Aegon is very emotionally dependent on you and is almost always leaning around you, looking for comfort. Helaena loves you with all her heart, she wants to be by your side all the time and she trusts you completely. Aemond is the closest to you, always seeking comfort and confirmation from you, he wants to impress you at any cost. You didn't spend as much time with Daeron, but he misses you and cherishes the memories he has with you.

You were the anchor of your family after the years passed, the only person capable of bringing them all together. Viserys and you had this in common, the desire to reunite the family and you managed it, although it never lasted for long.

All servants were instructed to do your whims and desires. Laenor and Rhaenyra are extremely protective of you and suspicious of anyone who approaches you, especially if it is one of the Greens.

You loved your family, you really loved them, but sometimes all you wanted was to be free from so much pressure. You found fun and ''freedom'' in associating more with your great-uncle, Daemon, who was always taking you away with him, causing your parents to panic. You always came back unscathed, though.

However, you knew you would have to choose a side. After Aemond's mutilation, you found yourself at an impasse when your father sneaked into your room that night and asked you to run away with him. Running away with him means you would be free from your burdens, but the conflict would never stop and would only escalate.

You didn't have any more time. You had to choose between running away with Laenor and escaping the war or staying with Rhaenyra and dealing with the conflicts between the Blacks and the Greens, as well as your overwhelming and possessive family.

Choosing between your father and mother was never something you thought you would do, until this day. The thought of never being able to see Rhaenyra again and hear her reading to you or never seeing your father teaching you how to fight again filled you with fear and anguish. You knew what you had to do, but could you bear the consequences of your choice?

[ghostofthepresent]

Why I think Shiguang can be canonically read as romantic

(I will only be using the donghua for reference, so no Studio Lan retweeting those fanarts (lmao) nor those especially gay manhwa panels (lmao x2) nor even the songs ("chase you to the end of the world, just to say your name once more" my beloved).

It's important to start off by saying that I'm aware Director Li said they ended up not making Lu Guang a girl because they didn't want romance to be seen as a must in Shiguang's relationship by the audience (and because he feels that "bros can have a good heart-to-heart connection with each other"). In my opinion that was a great move since it allows more freedom with how they write them than they'd have otherwise. I also think viewing Shiguang as queerplatonic is a great read too and it doesn't diminish their love for each other nor the importance of their relationship at all.

With that said, despite Director Li's words, there's been things that had me going 🤨 as someone who likes to adhere to canon relationships and read into the writer's intentions, so I wanted to share why I personally see them as romantic.

EPISODE 2

We've all seen this coming, right? Most obvious parallel ever, and in the second episode no less. We all know the similarities between both relationships, so I will just touch on those I consider the most important ones.

Lin Zhen and Yu Xia have gone to college together, and since then decided to start a business of their own - named after a mix of their names. They've been shown as being really close and having no romantic relationships. Lin Zhen also says that Yu Xia's happiness is her own, and then it's shown to us that she's gone through years of unhappiness just for Yu Xia. I believe you can replace their names with Lu Guang's and Cheng Xiaoshi's in your head without me writing all this again. And I'm not even going to get into the most obvious parallels like the special noodle recipe for each pair.

I think it's safe to say that Lin Zhen and Yu Xia are implied to be romantic. From that "one noodle" scene, to the close shot of Lin Zhen grabbing her hand, etc.

Now, I want to get into a writer's point of view and pose two questions:

1. What's the purpose of this episode, when even those which seem episodic connect to the overarching plot of season 1 (even the missing kid's case, as it leads to the involvement with the police)?

2. If we answer the previous question with the conclusion that it's meant to show us the nature/development of Cheng Xiaoshi's and Lu Guang's relationship, what does that say about it?

"Partner" in Link Click

Continuing with episode 2, what really got me thinking about the romantic intentions in their writing was the constant mention of marriage and anything in relation to it.

(may I remind everyone that the driver's comment was said when Cheng Xiaoshi was complaining about Lu Guang lmao)

They're telling us through "show don't tell" (for example, when Lin Zhen kept on eating the noodle despite knowing they'd kiss) and, also, connotations. They are presented to us as business partners, but then the entire episode goes on to tell us that there's more to them by tying their relationship to things percived as romantic. So what they want to really tell us is that beyond simple business partners, they're life-long partners.

And then, after establishing this kind of connotation to the word partner, Cheng Xiaoshi says this to Lu Guang in the next episode:

This doesn't stop at them. While it's the most obvious example, I think partnership in Link Click is intended to be seen as romantic, or at the very least dancing somewhere close to it. Let's go even further and take a look at our fully canon, heterosexual relationships and see briefly how their story is written:

1. Dong Yi and Xu Shanshan: both of them chose the comfort of each other's presence over moving on with their respective futures. Dong Yi had so much faith in their relationship and their love that he couldn't choose a life/future that didn't have Xu Shanshan - choosing to not go back to his family home nor go to that interview, and instead waiting for Xu Shanshan to define their relationship.

2. Liu Siwen and Ouyang: Siwen spent his entire life training with the purpose of getting his father-in-law's respect and marry Ouyang, going every year over and over to fight him. His perseverance and his undying love for her allowed Siwen to do the (seemingly) impossible.

3. Chen Bin and his wife: they're a tragedy. His wife understood Chen Bin the best, enduring feeling lonely because she loved him and wanted a future with him. But their relationship was cut short, so they promised each other to be together in a future life to make up for the time they wouldn't be in this one.

With this + the pictures I attached, it seems like Link Click has set this theme of "love is a life with you" for its romantic relationships, a partner that will fight to stay because they can't see a future that doesn't have their beloved. Going back to episode two, this applies even to the noodle ladies. When Yu Xia remembered what actually matters to her, she went back home - to the start, to her hometown. And, most importantly, to Lin Zhen.

So why is Shiguang romantic? Why aren't they queerplatonic, or just best friends, or bros or whatever else? Because besides what I said at the start of the previous paragraph, Shiguang's relationship mirrors a lot of the romantic ones. Each story and author writes romance and other kinds of relationships differently, portraying them in the way they perceive "this is what this kind of love is like". And beyond life-long partners, I think that the key elements of romantic relationships in Link Click are the ones I highlighted in bold above in the 3 canon relationships part - which Shiguang shares, too.

(I didn't mention this before with the het couples, but I find it a little amusing that season 2 happened because a man wanted to go to the past and get his wife back (still fuck you Qian Jin) and then we find out Lu Guang did go back to the past and got his boyfriend partner back lmao).

"Friend" vs "Partner"

So where is the boundary between platonic and romantic? What marks the difference between a (best) friend and a partner?

There is, for example, Liu Xiao and Li Tianchen's relationship. They aren't shown to have any kind of romantic undertones and there's even the very real possibility of manipulation on Liu Xiao's side. They're also never labeled as nor call each other partners, but instead Li Tianchen says he "met a new friend" and Liu Xiao says he's "going to meet an old friend" years later. So we could say for now that they have a somewhat close relationship (we see Li Tianchen go against Qian Jin to give the phone to Liu Xiao), but never cross that "friend" label.

We can even bring Qiao Ling and the boys' relationship. She's never labeled as a partner despite taking part in the side job and, more importantly, being super close to both of them. She is very important and a cherished friend to Shiguang, so why not call her partner too? I think it's intentional. Since she's been given a familial role already (calling Cheng Xiaoshi her brother when talking to Li Tianxi), she can't fill a partner role. I wonder why? because it's supposed to be a synonym for a romantic relationship. who said that.

So even best friends (Qiao Ling, arguably what Liu Xiao is to Li Tianchen) don't enter this close space that is being a partner. It's different, it's beyond platonic. Or at least that's what they've been showing us for the past two seasons.

I could go soo much more into this honestly, because I do think the little hints thrown here (the music videos) and there (tiny seemingly inconsequential details) are worth to be looked at too, but I wanted to get into the core reason that makes me go "woah so they're In Love fr". I hope I expressed myself well ^^

tldr; the series shows us a divide between having a (best) friend and a partner, giving "partners" romantic connotations.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Okay,, you have to let us know are the eggs any characters Specifically like megumi or itadori? I bet they would be clingy mommas boys.

Love you crumbs you give us and happy late birthday 🫶🏻

awww ty bestie okay okay okay holdonholdon

You'd name the hatchlings. Idk if I mentioned this or not but in the excerpt, the reader names Suguru and Satoru cuz they didn't have a concept of language yet. I think once they had a general concept of human language, they'd use their human names for each other just like you do.

When Nobara, Yuji and Megumi hatch, they'd definitely hang onto you the most. It's mostly because you are the most caring out of the throuple you were forced into. It makes sense for you to care about them, right? After all, human babies are pretty helpless and that's how far your knowledge extends. And they're adorable, with big round eyes, making cute little chitters. You get a tiny bit protective of them, especially considering the other two nagas don't carry the same sentiment. Suguru is clearly a believer of tough love and you've caught Satoru trying to put one of the eggs in his mouth (you're pretty sure he was joking...but you arent risking it when they're this tiny). They're small right now, but naga hatchlings grow up fast. They're practically your height in just a couple of years.

I feel personally, Yuji would be the (most outwardly) clingiest. He's affectionate, more dog than snake, sometimes. He's the largest of his siblings. When he was smaller, his favorite thing to do was wrap himself around your shoulders and you'd carry him around. He can't do that now, but he has other ways of spending time with you. He 'hunts' with you the most, assisting you with collecting berries and fruit. Apart from you, he'd bond with Satoru more. They share a similar personality, both are easily amused.

Megumi would be the shyest, but he loves you just as much as his siblings do. Much like his fathers, he enjoys the warmth you provide and would love cuddling with you in the languid hours of the evening. He doesn't do that much when he's older, but he's still interested in spending time with you! He likes quality time, the most. Eventually, during your time on the island, you'd have set up a tiny garden. He'd help with that. He and Suguru would have lots of similarities, so you'd often catch them together. They'd both help with your garden, helping cultivate the seeds and soil. It's not natural for them, but they understand you're different from nagafolk

But I think Nobara would be the one you're the closest to. She hatched the first. She's also different from her brothers. Again, in the naga species, the females become something akin to sirens. Slowly, you'd notice how different she is compared to her brothers, how much she enjoys the water, how dry her skin gets when she stays on land for too long. She'd evolve differently. Webbed hands, her tail would be more lithe, finned.

Because she's so different, Satoru and Suguru don't have much of an interest in her. Again, much like reptiles, nagas are fairly independent at a young age. Satoru and Suguru allow the hatchlings to stick around because you'd pitch a fit otherwise and they try to keep their mate happy. Once it becomes clear Nobara is aquatically gifted, you'd be terrified of the thought of her being out alone at sea, so you'd often go out with her, not caring how pruny your fingers get. Because of how much time you spend with her, I think she'd be the most interested in humans. She'd ask you about human culture, human customs. Every once in a while, she'd go out and collect remnants of humanity, clothes, trinkets, jewelry, anything she can find off the ocean floor. She'd sit on the rocky shore, holding out each one, demanding you to explain them to her.

You wouldn't dare mention how much you fear her fathers, but I feel Nobara would be the first to realize that you don't want to be here. She can see it in your eyes, the longing whenever you're explaining another human trinket. She wants you to be happy, but if you go back to the humans....would you still have time for her? Would you still braid her hair? Take care of her? Love her?

In the end, Nobara is the most similar to her fathers. She'd keep you on the island too.

ughhhhhh i should just write that chaptered naga fic already this is getting ridiculous.

[gldnstrngs]

i respect people who don’t ship merthur but i feel like it cant be denied that, no matter who you ship, merlin was very clearly in love with arthur.

there are so many scenes in the entire show that indicate how merlin feels— even if he doesn’t explicitly say it, he doesn’t have to because his actions show it. plus he says things that either mean “i love you” or more than that.

at first, merlin didn’t like arthur (but also wanted arthur to trust him) and initially followed the prophecy in order to allow magic in camelot again. it’s pretty soon after that, no matter how much they fight, merlin didn’t just want arthur alive because of the prophecy, but also because he cared for him.

that’s shown when merlin and arthur are fighting over who will drink the poisoned cup; one could argue that merlin only did it because of arthur’s fate, but the way he’s absolutely heartbroken when he thought arthur was dead says way more than that. it was never really about the prophecy at that point.

but what solidifies it is the last episode of season one. the scene where merlin goes to check on arthur before he goes to see nimueh will ALWAYS be on my mind because it’s so obviously a love confession.

“i’m happy to be your servant, till the day i die.”

like. bro. the way they stare at each other after that too. and when he sees nimueh and says about arthur— “his life is worth a hundred of mine.” i don’t think merlin was just saying that because of arthur’s destiny, but because he truly genuinely loved arthur so much that he couldn’t stand to see him die.

and this is all in the span of a few months. my boy fell hard fr.

there are so many other scenes i can think of like in season two when arthur and merlin are trying to find balinor and they’re at the inn and in their room. the way merlin was doing a double take when arthur took off his shirt (there’s actually no heterosexual explanation for that💀) was CRAZY (someone pls link fics that are based on that scene bc that was so insane).

or in season 4 when arthur thinks gaius is a traitor (which i also refer to as Merlin’s Tolerate It era) and merlin is so distraught. obviously losing gaius was on his mind but the thought that arthur, the person he had complete and utter fate in and loved, could ever think that gaius would betray him absolutely destroyed him. or when merlin tells arthur that gaius would never betray him… like that’s such a clearly loaded statement where he’s saying “i would never betray you.”

there’s also the fact that in the season four finale merlin makes up all of this lore just so arthur could believe in himself. merlin’s face the entire time is just so telling like that is the face of someone who is so devoted to their lover.

there are so many hints that indicate merlin being in love with arthur like i don’t think it needed to be said outright for the audience to know. i think the both of them being men makes it easier to try to depict their relationship as solely platonic or brotherly, but merlin’s words and actions say otherwise.

i mean, merlin himself says “i use it [magic] for you, arthur. only for you.”

if that isn’t gay, then i don’t know what is.

[morning-star-joy]

but you know the killer doesn't understand (Joel x F!Reader)

Pairing: Post!Outbreak Neighbors Joel x F!Reader

Summary: When Joel returns to Jackson and meets you, his new neighbor, he knows right away he's fucked.

Request: Reader being Joel’s neighbor and reader is super kind and and nice to everyone (especially Joel and Ellie) and having this lightness and softness about her and they’re kinda in love with each other but Joel won’t admit and allow himself to act on it (full request)

Tags/Warnings: Language, Joel is bad at feelings, innocence kink. Series will include angst, mutual pining and TW mentions of previous miscarriage

Wordcount: 784

A/N: There will be multiple parts to this! Ty lovely anon for sharing your beautiful idea and entrusting it to me

Part I || Part II || Part III || Masterlist (More Parts Coming Soon)

Joel Miller masterlist

Joel Miller was not a kind man.

Any kindness he ever had lingering in his soul had been eradicated over twenty years spent doing whatever it took to survive after the end of the world.

It was just the way that it was. After so much loss and suffering, so much blood spilled from his own body and from those that he had not only killed, but tortured, in cruel, unimaginable ways—there was no way that he could still manage to be soft. 

Hell, or anybody else, for that matter. Joel was of the firm belief that nobody who had made it this far didn’t have blood on their hands. In fact, it was just about the only thing he still believed in: the indisputable fact that every person in this fucked up world was just as fucked up as it was.

That was, until he met you.

When he and Ellie returned to Jackson, and she moved into the garage on his property as he settled into that large house that almost unnerved him with how quiet and peaceful it was, he was content to be a recluse in the settlement. Joel would do what he could to protect the town—he owed Tommy that much—but he wouldn’t go out of his way to do something as mundanely trivial as make friends.

And then you showed up on his doorstep a few days after he arrived, standing there in a faded sundress with a plate of something that smelled so tempting in some kind of peace offering he would have expected before the apocalypse, but not ever since society had crumbled down.

There was a soft smile on your face, a warmth in your eyes that had Joel completely taken aback and, fuck, he already knew he was in for it just then, before you even opened your mouth.

“You’re Joel, right?” you said in a voice as soft as that smile, kindness oozing from every word in a way that almost made Joel start to feel uncomfortable because what was the catch?

“Joel Miller?" you tried to clarify by adding his last name when he didn't answer, but you were seemingly unfazed when he still didn't say anything as you continued, "I’m friends with Maria and Tommy. They mentioned you had just moved in.”

You leaned back then, turning your face so you could point at the house next door, but Joel was too busy glancing over your face, searching for a sign of weariness, of deceit, trying to convince himself you were just as tired and mean and fucked up as the rest of them.

“I live next door,” you explained with the pointing before your hand went back to the plate, and you held it out further, making Joel lean back slightly. “I just wanted to come by and say, well…welcome to Jackson!”

You smiled again, almost a grin now, a cheerfulness that made Joel stiffen as his chest tightened with an unfamiliar feeling. It was one that had once been well-known in another life, before he had lost everything. 

A feeling he had never wanted to experience again.

So he took the plate, muttering a gruff thanks as his Southern upbringing—as far away as it was now—wouldn’t let him do otherwise, even as he quickly shut the door right in your face directly afterwards.

He had expected you to linger for a moment, probably taken aback by his abrupt rudeness at your gesture of neighborly peace, so he wasn’t surprised when he didn’t hear your feet retreat from the other side of the door right away.

What did shock him was when you called out your name, introducing yourself even through the wall of the too damn big, too damn peaceful and quiet house before your footsteps finally did click across the porch as you left.

Click? Had you been wearing heels? He couldn’t remember, but he felt a surge of something and, fuck.

Joel said nothing as he crossed through the house to the back door, heading to Ellie’s small abode to drop off what he realized from the annoyingly delicious smell was banana bread, so the girl could eat it.

She had accepted it with enthusiasm, asking him where he got it, a scarred eyebrow arching with interest as Joel merely mumbled an annoyed “neighbor” before leaving.

When preparing for bed that night, all Joel could think of was the click of a heel, the scent of freshly baked sweets, a delicate finger pointing towards a house right next door, the flare of a pale yellow dress as you turned and fuck.

Fuck, this was bad.

You were bad.

Because you were good, and he was bad.

Fuck.

[brucewaynehater101]

Look maybe it’s just me but if I saw my little brother spiraling I wouldn’t just corner him in a graveyard once to talk about therapy then let him fuck off to go globe trotting

I mean... kind of I'm trying to be more canon accurate in my posts, so I apologize for correcting ya.

Cassie was the one to meet Tim in the graveyard. Dick met him at the city bounds.

Here's a funny pic of Dick as payment

Bruh. I'd either be so intimidated or so mad if Dick did this to me.

"We need to talk." After what Tim walked into of Damian wearing the Robin suit because Dick didn't talk to him until after the suit was made? I'd be mad (this is not an anti Dick. This is just how I would feel).

Anyways. Dick didn't let Tim go. Tim held him at staff point and guilt tripped the man into letting him go (not anti-Tim either).

Re-reading it again, I still think Tim is an unreliable narrator.

However, Tim is all like, "Hey, I know I sound nuts. I know how it looks, but I know I'm right." He provided examples of how he can, in fact, understand where Dick is coming from.

And then Dick is all like, "I know how you feel, but you need a therapist." Which... yes, but that's not the point. Tim is bringing up all this horrid shit in his life and acknowledging how he understands Dick's viewpoint (while also saying Dick is only there cause Cassie called him). Then Dick claims to understand Tim's perspective, but only from Dick's "Tim must be seeing things where isn't anything instead of grieving" viewpoint.

Basically, they aren't communicating with each other efficiently (they are also physically fighting each other while doing this too).

It's a mess. A hot mess.

Dick is trying:

But he's also just not listening to Tim. He's not giving Tim the benefit of the doubt. He's concerned af, but he's not listening or trusting Tim. He's just going at it from his own worried mentality that Tim's going down a conspiracy bender. I don't blame Dick for not communicating well (poor man is going through so much at this point [Damian, JLA, switching to Batman, etc]).

However, I also understand Tim's perspective. He doesn't trust Dick to actually listen to him. Dick wants to help Tim Dick's way and not what Tim believes he needs.

I personally get very very triggered if my boundaries are not met. If someone held on after I told them to let go? Yeah. Hands are being thrown. I also get triggered if people try to force me to do shit, don't listen to me, or try to do "what's best for me" when I've told them no. Real quick way to get cut off by me.

That's off topic, lmao.

Anyways, Dick kind of let Tim go, but that's because Tim forced him to. It wasn't because Dick didn't care, but he didn't care in the way Tim wanted him to (debatable if that's not how Tim needed either).

I'm curious. Are there any comics that cover that scene from Dick's POV? I'd appreciate it if anyone could let me know ^^

Also, I agree I would not do what Dick did here. On the other hand, my siblings and I have worked very very hard for the relationships we have. It's taken years of trial and error to get the boundaries and level of communication the way it is. We all agree to allow the others to make decisions for themselves and fight their own battles unless otherwise asked (I had a habit of trying to help and fix the situation for them when I was a teen. Now we just inform and offer help. Lots of acknowledgment for boundaries as well). If my siblings want to make dumb decisions, I let them. Just as they would for me. I might tell them I think that's dumb as hell, but it's their life.

If Tim was my sibling, I'd say something like, "I'm not sure I believe you, but I trust you. If this is what you need, if you think this is true, I'll support you. Would you like my direct assistance with this?"

If they say no, then I'll respond with, "Okay. I can handle Gotham as long as you keep me in the loop. If it's been 48 hours without contact, I will hunt you down. I love you."

Then we'd hug goodbye.

On the other other hand, there's not this age gap between us. Dick is 7 or so years older than Tim, and Tim is a teen. Dick may feel it's his responsibility to look after Tim and might be hitting the road bumps I did with my siblings (of giving them the respect and trust to handle their own issues as well as know what they need).

So, the situation is a hot mess :)

[xkaidaxxxx]

UNBELIEVABLE

KATSUKI BAKUGOU X CHUBBY READER

Mentions: Club, Virgin reader, Alcohol, Jealous kats, Fluff

Reblogs are appreciated <3

“ It’s unbelievable. I can’t believe she said yes! Ugh she’s the best” Kirishima said with his heart full of love. “Yeah Yeah Yeah we get it you have a girlfriend. Quit rubbing it in.” Denki replied, rolling his eyes. “ The rest of us are single as fuck.” Sero said. You felt defeated as well. 

You like Katsuki Bakugou. Sure he’s loud, explosive, crazy, has a hard time expressing himself, and is reserved but you like all those and more traits are very cute. You know he has his own little ways of saying thank you, sorry, or that he cares. You like the way he laughs and smiles, which is rare. His cooking is amazing. You love the way he always pushes forward and doesn’t allow anything to stop him. You’re basically head over heels for this man. Little did you know he likes you just as much as you like him. It is so insane how neither of you knows it. The girls tell you and you always say “ You guys don’t make me delusional.” You thought that way because you didn’t consider yourself beautiful. You’re a chubby girl. You hate your stomach fat. You hate the stretch marks. You hate when you sit down, your fat rolls. Katsuki thought otherwise. He loves your stomach rolls, He loves the way your costume shows off your thighs. He thinks your stretch marks are cute. He always says he wants you to squeeze his head in between your thighs. He knows there's so much more to love. He wants and needs you so bad. He is willing to do anything for you to be his girlfriend. He's on his knees at this point.

As time went by you did notice yourself spending more time with him. He threw hints at you. You did miss a few but then connected the pieces later on. 

“ Hey!! Come on dance with us!!!” Mina yelled over the loud music. You took your last 3 shots. “ Finally girl !!!” Momo yelled. You had 2 horrible weeks. You were desperate to have time off and have fun. You were all dolled up. You straighten your hair and put on simple makeup. The dress you wore was a bit short. It hugged you beautifully. The heels made you look even more sexier. Some guys were checking you out. Including Katsuki. You finally let yourself free. You danced like no one was there. Mina and Momo danced with you. A guy dances up behind you. He placed his hands on your waist. You couldn’t give 2 fucks. Katsuki was losing his mind. He was so jealous his small explosions said it all. The guy ran his hands down to your thighs. “When are you going to confess to her!? You’re dying right now! Go claim her!” Izuku said, smacking his head, over the loud music. Usually Katsuki would blow up at him but he was so focused on you. The topic. “ What if I just make her drift away!?” Katsuki asked. “Oh wow. I didn’t know that Katsuki Bakugou was such a loser!” Izuku said, knowing exactly what he was doing. “ Yeah what a pussy!” Kirishima yelled, pushing Katsuki’s button. He went to the dance floor and gave the guy a nasty stare. He was getting way too handsy. You only allowed it because you want experience. You’re a virgin, You never had a boyfriend before, zero dates, you haven’t even had your 1st kiss yet, you just started drinking like a month ago, and this is your 3rd time at a club. You dancing with a guy and a bit sexually is NEW. The man stood his ground against Katsuki. That didn’t stop the explosion boy. He leaned down to your height and kissed you. You gave in and kissed him back. The guy saw how you guys were making out. He left. You knew it was Katsuki you were making out with even though you were drunk. You danced the night away. 4:25am hit. “ Let's get out of here pretty.” Katsuki said. You nodded. When both got to his apartment it got crazy. He pushed you against the wall after he closed the door and locked it. You made out like it was the last time you’d see each other again. “ Mhm fuck.” He said carrying you up stairs. He set you on his bed. You giggled as he took your heels off. He smiled at your drunk self. Now Katsuki knows you're inexperienced. “ Kkaattss!” you yelled. “Yeah I’m here,” he replied. He respectfully was babysitting you as you showered. He stood facing the wall asking if you were good. After drying up and changing into clothes he lent he blew  dry your hair and soon after that you were laying on his bed. Still drunk. He was surprised how you even managed to shower thoroughly. He then took his time to take a nice warm shower. “ Kats!” you laughed like an idiot then suddenly went quiet. Once he was changed he turned the lights off and got into bed. “You good?” he asked, playing with your hair. “ Wish. You- were h-herruu actuchily.”you said slurring your words. You touched his hair gently. He pecked your forehead. 

The following morning you woke up to him holding you. “K-Katsuki?” you questioned. “Yeah?”he replied. “W-what am I doing here?” You lifted the sheets, fully clothed. You sighed in relief. “We didn’t do anything…It’s unbelievable,” he replied. “ What is-are you calling me a slut? That I’m easy or something!?” you said you were upset. “It’s unbelievable that you’ve always been in my heart and in my mind. Now you’re waking up here in my bed. You’re mine.” He replied holding you. You blushed. “ I like you so much, kats.” you confessed. “I like you so much Y/n.” he replied. You both felt complete and happy.

Why don’t we- unbelievable

[belphegorbillickin]

Obey Me! Love Languages (+Side Characters)

(CW!): Yandere-ish behavior in the Levi, Diavolo, and Belphie sections. Diavolo is the worst out of the three.

Lucifer:

Nothing makes Lucifer much happier than simply spending time alone together, especially in bed.

(He practically jumps you every Devilgram I swear.)

He's more than willing to keep chaste if that's what you prefer though. Lucifer cherishes any and all time you spend with him.

He prefers to go somewhere private with you, where he can let his guard down completely and tell you exactly how much he appreciates you, but he enjoys calmer, more "mature" dates as well.

You don't even have to talk to each other, simply spending time together makes his (shriveled, blackened) heart swell and tension ease.

Although if you'd like to completely remove his tension…

(Have I mentioned that this man is even more desperate than Mammon and Asmo combined? Give this ancient babygirl a hug and a back massage.)

You may or may not be as busy as he is, but he still sees you being willing to spend what little time you both have together as a big gesture.

It certainly is for him at least, as he's far too busy to entertain someone he doesn't truly care for.

It may sound odd coming from an effectively "ageless" being, but time is honestly his most limited resource.

Lucifer's too much of a perfectionist and control freak to let you do anything big, but he deeply appreciates anything you do to make his life easier.

Even something as small as bringing him breathtakingly bitter hell coffee or a pen he forgot brightens his day considerably.

Of course, being the Avatar of Pride, he's more than happy to receive any and all compliments you give him.

They're not exactly uncommon, but he feels they sound so much sweeter coming from your lips.

(Lips he would love to kiss if you'd just let him…)

You know you've made it when Lucifer allows you to see his vulnerable side and trusts you enough to ask for help with the more serious, complicated tasks.

Something no other human, demon, or angel, will likely ever have the privilege of experiencing.

Mammon:

It's canonically stated that whoever he loves is showered in riches, and I don't believe it's just from his latent power.

What better way for the avatar of greed to show he loves you than to be selfless and give you what's his?

Anything that reminds him of you is already in his hands before he can even think about it, paid for or not.

It can be something as simple as a pretty flower or a giant piece of furniture he thinks you'll look great relaxing in.

It's a shame it won't fit in your room, but that just means you'll have to come visit him in his more often. He totally didn't plan that though! (You know he did.)

He's also a huge showboat and always tries to go for the most extravagant options even if it doesn't actually add anything either of y'all would like.

Mammon was already pretty horrible at budgeting, but after becoming infatuated with you it's almost like he's actively trying to get into a ridiculous amount of debt with everyone.

It's only because he desperately wants to impress you and show how much you mean to him, by any and all means possible.

Of course Mammon would love to receive some gifts in turn, but I feel like, unless they were homemade or otherwise really special, he'd start to take it for granted and complain when it's not expensive enough.

It's not that he means to take advantage of you or doesn't appreciate it, but he is the Avatar of Greed after all, and you're feeding into it.

What really makes him feel loved is when you defend him publicly and happily turn down the others to spend more time with him.

He doesn't mean it in a nasty way unlike some demons, *cough* *cough* Levi & Belphie, but the way his brothers have treated him has worn on him a bit.

You know you've made it when Mammon finally feels secure enough to say he loves you with zero hesitation.

Alone, in front of his brothers, even in front of Simeon and Diavolo and the others. He'll scream it from the rooftops if you want him to.

Leviathan:

Leviathan is actually very generous. He's offered to buy things for his brothers and MC surprisingly often.

It makes sense in a way, as he doesn't really have to do much to maintain it. He can just drop the gift and run when he's nervous, rather than having to stay still while holding your hand or possibly tripping over his words and getting rejected when he tries to say something nice.

I bet he feels as though even if someone didn't like him they would at least like the gift, and then maybe they'll eventually like the source of all the gifts as well.

I could definitely see Levi trying to "buy" your love even if he doesn't realize it.

He's also very helpful when he wants to be, Satan even listed him as his most reliable brother.

It makes him feel good to do things for other people and again, he feels like maybe people will like what he does for them even if they don't like him the same way.

It's not as though he hates compliments and any other loving comments, but he's never really going to believe them until you've already "proven it" through your other actions.

If anything it has a very high chance of backfiring if that's your main way of showing affection, especially if you're a kind person in general.

Levi has got a nasty habit of twisting everyone's words against them and he's not gonna kick it anytime soon, regardless of any reassurance you give him.

His insecurities are far too deeply rooted and connected to his very existence as the Avatar of Envy to be soothed so easily.

Even gifts are a much better way into his heart, if you take the time to research his collection and support his hobbies that is.

Not only did you take the time to listen to what he says, but you spent all that time and effort tracking it down, waiting in line, or staying at the website refreshing repeatedly until you could buy it.

It shows him you're fully supportive and not embarrassed to be seen as a "weeb." That you won't pretend to not know him in public when he freaks out the latest Ruri-chan merch and proudly displays it on his person.

What really makes Leviathan believe you love him is getting jealous over him and turning down the others to be with him.

Especially if you made plans with them first and then ditched them for Levi when he threw a fit.

It's very mean-spirited, unlike Mammon who mostly wants reassurance. As Leviathan actually wants to feel them hurting, but again, he's a demon and The Avatar of Envy at that. Take the most jealous, unreasonable, and controlling person you know and multiple it by a thousand. That's what he has to deal with in his head 24/7, and though he does a very admirable job of keeping them as thoughts rather than actions, it's still a very heavy strain and things do slip out.

Levi will end up throwing a fit if you try to restrict his Ruri or TSL time out of jealousy, but any H-games and etc. are fair game so long as you promise to pick up the slack.

He'll even stop going to idol meet and greets for you, but it's only fair you start restricting your time with other people (including his brothers) in return, right? Right?

…Yeah, good luck handling that.

You know you've made it when Leviathan feels confident enough to regularly initiate physical contact and casually ask for your time and affection.

It's not that he doesn't like it, he's completely touch starved and has been fantasizing about initiating for a while, it's that he's completely sure he'll be rejected or mess it up somehow.

Or that it'll become overstimulating and he'll hurt your feelings by abruptly breaking it off when it suddenly becomes too much.

It means that you've brought his self-esteem up quite a bit, that Leviathan finally trusts that you won't suddenly make fun of him. That you actually like him for who he is and not in spite of it.

Satan:

Satan likes to show his love through gifts, acts of service, and the occasional sprinkle of affectionate words. Possibly even through poetry he wrote himself. He wants to show you that he's the superior choice. The reliable, practical, and in-the-know choice without being too stuffy and uptight, unlike some people. *cough* Lucifer *cough*

He also prides himself on his knowledge, and would be very eager to share said knowledge with you.

Feel free to ask him about any topic you want, chances are he at least knows a good book for it. If he somehow doesn't, then he'll gladly try to find one for you.

Just don't expect him to do your coursework or any other intellectual work for you. As much as Satan loves to be useful, he values self-sufficiency and growth even more.

He just can't understand wanting to cheat yourself out of a possible learning experience, and only wants the best for you.

What makes him feel loved is when you acknowledge his flaws but don't make excuses or demonize him for them.

When you don't push too hard for him to open up or spend all of his time with you, and instead set a schedule of sorts so the two of you always have at least some time together without it becoming too much.

He's not the biggest fan of physical contact though, as the circumstances of his "birth" meant that non-violent contact was rare until he finally calmed down and repaired the few relationships that he had. Truth be told, he also a bit afraid of hurting you. Satan's afraid that he'll instinctively lash out when you touch him suddenly, or that he'll hold on too tightly when he goes to touch you himself. You'd never know it now, the way he handles his centuries old books and week old kittens, but Satan is not gentle by nature. He won't shove you away or anything, but he will tense up and never initiate "pointless" physical contact even if he knows you love it until you let him approach it at his own pace.

You know you've made it when Satan finally opens up and doesn't avoid talking about his insecurities and weak points, or feel as though he's competing with Lucifer for your affection anymore.

When he feels free to act as he would like to instead of trying to compensate for his inexperience by imitating romance novels. When Satan doesn't feel as though he has to hide his purely demonic upbringing and everything that comes with it in fear of intimidating or scaring you off.

Asmodeus:

I feel like Asmodeus' love languages are pretty obvious, as in he absolutely adores all of them, as he's got so much affection to give and is plenty eager to receive.

He especially loves spoiling you and dressing you up. It's as much for his benefit as it is yours.

It's the same with all the pictures he takes of the two of you. He considers himself very generous indeed for sharing your beauty with the world instead of keeping it to himself, unlike some people.

Asmo will tell you as much himself, in fact, he never grows tired of describing your beauty in every possible way he could.

You can't go more than a day without him comparing at least one aspect of you to some beloved art piece or wonder of nature.

And of course, you can't forget the physical affection. Asmo lives for the chance to run his fingers along your skin and drape himself across you.

Platonically, romantically, sexually, it's all amazing to him.

He also finds testing out all sorts of creams and lotions on you incredibly intimate and relaxing, despite always preferring to be the one being pampered before.

You know you've made it when Asmodeus allows you to see him at his "ugliest," whether that be physically or emotionally, and trusts that you won't leave him for it.

When he feels like you would still be with him even if he never did anything sexual again.

It may or may not seem like that big of a deal to you, but Asmodeus is incredibly insecure deep down.

He can't help but feel like he'll never be as loved as he was back in heaven all those years ago, and certainly not for the same reasons.

What Asmodeus needs is someone who will prove that wrong, that sees him as something more than to look at and get off with.

Beelzebub:

"You didn't get me a snack? It's okay. I don't mind being stuck with you forever." (Slightly Used Handcuff Item - 2020 Valentine's Event)

Beelzebub makes it extremely obvious that what he wants more than anything is just to enjoy being by your side.

You don't have to do anything special or even talk, just showing that you're willing to spend time with him is proof enough of your love.

It's also how he shows affection. Like how even though he's not that interested in anime or video games, and Levi usually doesn't let him play (thanks to his messy eating and sticky hands,) Beel still goes into Levi's room surprisingly often.

Honestly, I'm not convinced part of it isn't at least partially from PTSD as well.

Beelzebub feels the need to stay by your side so that he can always be there to take the hit for you.

So that he can see you're still here with his own two eyes and not permanently gone the second he turns around.

What really makes him feel loved is when you look out for his emotional well-being and refuse to let him put himself last.

When you don't take his self-sacrificing ways for granted or come to expect them.

It doesn't matter how you show your appreciation, he's grateful for anything you give him, so long as you do it.

He is a bit insecure however. Both about his behavior and his appearance, as surprising as that may be to anyone who's seen him.

His demon form is associated with something most humans find disgusting after all. So he really appreciates any way you try to reassure him about it.

You know you've made it when Beelzebub is consistently willing to share his food with you.

Beelzebub arguably has the worst control over his sin and readily admits it. Belphie is the only other person he'd ever really share his own food with, and even then not all of it all the time.

But the ultimate test is when he's willing to go against Belphegor for you, even if it's just not immediately agreeing with everything he says.

Beelzebub feels very indebted to Belphie, no matter how many times he tells him it's fine Beel still feels like he has to do any and everything to make up for it.

So if he's willing to go against that, willing to risk upsetting Belphie, it means that you mean everything to him.

Belphegor:

Belphie's all about physical touch and quality time. Both in the sense of spending all of your time with him, and in the sense of not spending that time with anyone else, except Beel of course.

Not just cuddling in bed or taking naps together, but holding hands, letting him lean against you, and kissing are all things Belphie also really enjoys, and expects.

Despite getting embarrassed fairly easily by some of his brothers at times, it's almost impossible to ignore PDA when you lean into it like that, and he's desperate to stake his claim even in public. (Though his embarrassment quickly fades as he becomes more comfortable being vulnerable with you and his brothers again. His guarded, territorial behavior quickly turns into bragging and "tests of your loyalty" after that.)

Now, despite that he does expect you to respect when he wants his alone time, but Belphegor doesn't respect your boundaries all that well until you make him.

Not that he minds if you do try to force him to stop being as much of a spoiled brat though, he likes someone that can give as good as they can get so long as you do it with love.

He's another one that wants to watch you crush his brothers' hopes and dreams in favor of spending time with him. Not Beel though, never Beel.

Seriously, he likes to make out in public and actively fantasizes about his brothers getting jealous because of it in his devilgrams.

(He's also the most suggestive even after they started toning everything down. He gets implied sex and makes out several times a devilgram while other characters don't even get kisses at all sometimes.)

Belphegor is a Belphewhore when it comes to you. (Which is rather fitting, if you know anything about demonology.)

You know you've made it when this lazy cow gets up off his ass to do something for you, something usually only reserved for Beel.

Now, normally being compared to someone you're trying to date's twin brother would be a bad thing, but not in this case.

It just means the only one who will ever be equally important as his figurative other half is his twin, his literally magically and psychically connected other half.

The deepest form of trust is when he fully entrusts Beel's safety and happiness to you.

He may not seem as outwardly protective as his twin, but he is very much so, and he's become even more paranoid and codependent after being forcefully separated for so long.

Whereas Beel is more concerned with physical safety, Belphegor is more concerned with Beelzebub's mental state.

He knows his twin has a tendency to be self-sacrificing, full of guilt, and a bit too eager to take things at face value at times (despite being the emotionally intelligent out of all of them) for a demon. He also knows plenty of people would take advantage of that, intentionally or not.

Belphegor will act uncaring, but he's carefully monitoring your interactions with Beelzebub and paying attention to all of the shared feelings from their connection, intent on matching them up to see if you caused any of his poor moods.

Diavolo:

Lord Diavolo constantly puts himself into frustrating lose-lose situations.

He only really feels assured if you keep coming to him of your own free will, but he's so terrified of rejection and losing you that he rarely ever allows you to do just that.

He's always coming up with some brand new scheme or just outright forcing you to come to him, sometimes even physically, which only reinforces his bad habits and insecurities.

It doesn't matter how much you try to resist. Do you really believe you could do something to stop it when even several-thousand-year-old Lucifer and his strong-willed brothers can't? When even Barbatos couldn't? You'd need the power of God and anime on your side for even a small chance at that.

He'll literally pick you up or drag you if he has to, laughing all the while, refusing to take it seriously as you squirm even though he's really hurt deep down.

He tries to keep in mind that some people are "shy" and don't want to be dragged out all the time, but if you say, take the week in between his tiring plots to catch up on coursework and relax, he'll start to worry you're distancing yourself.

Diavolo's severe abandonment and boundary issues make it nearly impossible for you to challenge them without doing exactly what he wants, when he wants.

Who does he think he is, some kind of all-powerful demon lord or something?

Diavolo doesn't consider himself to be a big gift-giver, but he spoils those he appreciates regardless, and you receive his love on a completely different level.

He's just so used to opulence and never wanting for anything purchasable (easily or not) that he may overwhelm you with uncomfortably extravagant displays without even considering how the average human might react.

Want some chocolate? Diavolo will have Barbatos summon the most skilled chocolatiers immediately.

Can't find the perfect formal wear for yourself? He's calling in his personal tailors to make the most beautiful pieces of clothing you've ever seen in your life.

And yet despite all that it can still fall a bit flat at times.

Diavolo is the most flexible with this form of affection, but he can still be very inconsiderate in a sense.

He takes being told it's a bit too much surprisingly well, but he's fairly controlling about the gifts themselves.

You don't like the colors he picked? Too bad. It matches his own outfit and the color you want would match with the brothers instead and etc.

Sometimes it almost feels like the gifts are more for him than you, or that they come with hidden expectations rather than to make you happy.

Even though he really does want to make you happy, very much so in fact.

You know you've made it when Diavolo finally trusts you to come back to him on your own. Something that might take years and years of "absolutely perfect loyalty."

When he's not constantly sending you messages every time you're apart and doesn't try to force his way into every outing or private moment you have.

Quality time is still his main love language, giving and receiving, and he's still very aggressive in his attempts to spend time with you, but it's expressed in a (slightly) healthier way.

It does mean fighting against his very nature as a demon, even more so than he already does, but he's more than willing to try for you.

Barbatos:

Despite being quite powerful himself, people are often so used to taking advantage of him that they don't see him as much of a person compared to others.

He's rarely Barbatos and often "The Prince's Butler, who happens to be called Barbatos" instead.

Barbatos is targeted quite often by various groups of people, but few of them are after his attention specifically, instead of his power and connections.

He doesn't really allow himself to date in general. Besides not having the time for it, he's too worried about accidentally giving a spy or old Demon King loyalist an opening to cause trouble.

Whether that'd be because he's distracted or because he somehow ends up dating that kind of demon, Barbatos is rarely a risk taker when it comes to Diavolo's safety.

Even when he's liked it's usually for what he can do for other people, like Beelzebub wanting to keep him as his chef and Solomon eyeing his powers for example.

The only one who's really broke past that in the last couple of centuries has been Luke, who's come to be like an adopted son (or pet chihuahua) of sorts to him.

As much as the child loves to say he's using Barbatos, it's clear that the affection is mutual.

Now, a lowly human on the other hand? He'd worry about them being taken hostage or having loose lips, but otherwise they're fairly harmless. Barbatos has all the power in the relationship, just the way he likes it.

In a way, humans' short lifespans also helps to prepare Barbatos for the possibility of seeing your untimely death.

He knew what he was getting into, even if he's gotten far more attached to you than he ever intended to.

In a way, your presence eventually becomes synonymous with respite to him.

At first because of the physical aspect of entertaining you, but it slowly starts to be because of you specifically.

How sweetly you talk to him, really talk to him and not at him. The way you're so considerate in ways that even angels are not for a "mere butler."

Not much longer after that, it comes to be everything about you, even your smile becomes enough to make his day.

Besides being helpful, proving you're willing to "stoop down to his level" and "serve the servant" makes him much more willing to believe you're genuine.

In his (plentiful) experience, pretending to actually enjoy helping out in person is much harder to fake than anything else, especially for the snobbish nobles typically attempting to gain Lord Diavolo's favor.

Barbatos is another hardcore perfectionist who takes his work extremely seriously, who would rather die than let anyone else do it for him, especially since it would cause him to look as if he was "slacking." However, small things like drawing a bath for him, bringing him his favorite snacks, and giving him massages really helps him relax and feel loved.

He's also very fond of homemade gifts for similar reasons. The thought of someone going to all that effort for "just a butler" is very much appreciated.

Despite being such a perfectionist he'll accept the love put into almost anything you give him if it's made with care and free of the furry beasts he despises so strongly.

He'll have them all displayed properly in his room, in a way that will let them last longer, right next to everything Luke has made for him.

You know you've made it when Barbatos allows you to take care of him and ease his burdens.

When he'll allow you to wash his hair and pour tea for the both of you without stressing about how perfect it may or may not be.

Solomon:

Solomon's main love languages are gift giving and acts of service, and yes, you're gonna have to eat his cooking and you're gonna have to like it.

More seriously though, I'd argue it's quality time and acts of service, both giving and receiving.

He may have an excess of years left, for the understatement of the century, but he knows not everyone else does.

So Solomon really cherishes what little time you're willing to give him, especially if it means ignoring the demon brothers in favor of him. Asmodeus included. Solomon needs to know you're willing prioritize humanity, and him of course, before he can really begin to trust you and let you in.

He's also very fond of physical touch, he's close to Asmo for a reason after all, but that doesn't actually assure him your love is true regardless of how much he enjoys it.

You know you've made it when Solomon is fully willing to become attached and admit it to himself, regardless of any potential heartbreak he may suffer.

When he's ready to tell you so, to make concrete plans about the future with you, instead of for you, and commit to them fully.

But he also really does want to see you eating his cooking, that he infuses with all of his love just for you, every day.

Simeon:

Simeon is another tricky one, as he rarely allows people get close enough to see his more vulnerable side. Not even those that he was once brothers in arms with.

I believe one major indicator of Simeon being truly in love with you is when he's seeking out your touch.

When he's always brushing his fingers against your shoulders and grabbing your waist as he walks past, just to feel your skin.

Or even allowing you to come to bed with him, "just to cuddle, of course" he says, despite the major risks being that close poses for an angel already teetering on the edge. That's not to say that he doesn't express it through other means, like through the written word, but his playful brushes against you and sly smiles as he tells his white lies to get some alone time are something exclusive to your (not-so-secret) relationship.

He does however, always want to spend time with you. Even before he's ready to fully commit and be completely vulnerable around you.

You may or may not have that much time together after all, and he wants to spend as much of it as possible with you. Simeon also adores teasing the ones he loves, and that will most likely be the first bit of "personalized" affection he gives you. He just can't get enough of your embarrassed faces and mannerisms.

You know you've made it when Simeon is willing to trust you with all of his darkest thoughts and concerns.

When he can trust you won't judge him for his sins or try to guide him to any particular path.

When he's certain you'll stay true, and value and respect his guidance, no matter what form he's in or what he's done.

It's a common idea I know, but I got an ask for it literally years ago and I wanted to dump my reasons onto y'all anyway.

The draft date on AO3 said I started it in the middle of 2021, which should explain exactly why I feel bad about taking requests.

Also shameless self promotion, but I have a full Obey Me! rewrite fic out now!

Please do note that this is a fully realized fem OC with her own personality, not a gender neutral reader insert, and there are a lot of potential triggers involved.

So please make sure to read the tags fully before going in!

But don't worry, everything else will stay gender neutral and reader insert! Nothing is going to change about that here or on tumblr.

[orlesianhennin]

I love the banter between Vivienne and Solas so much, but these two in particular stand out to me because they represent how similar they are at their core in their worldview, but also how Solas recognizes this and respects her enough to try and teach her (in his vague, condescending manner) without giving too much about himself away. Vivienne sees small-mindedness, mockery, and venom in his "lessons," but I don't think that's his true intent. I don't think he cares about her, of course, but I think he could, possibly, if he allowed himself to. I think she frustrates him because she is just like him.

They definitely do not consider each other peers. To Solas, for all her brilliance and talent, Vivienne is a dogmatic and close-minded mage who willingly limits herself. To Vivienne, Solas is clearly more than he appears - she knows he is up to something and more than he seems - but there is nothing that he could teach her. She has achieved the highest position and enlightenment a mage in her society can; he is a vagabond who doesn't value what she values (power, influence, standing), and therefore his insight must be worth little. Little does she know, the spirit of what she believes in has a lot in common with the things that Solas believes in. That is the irony of their relationship; Vivienne is who Solas might have been if he had been in her position. They have nothing in common on the surface only because they exist in different worlds. Bring them together with all other things being equal, and they are undeniably peers, who could work together and even develop a friendship/rivalry and deep mutual respect - if things were different.

I used to think the "Dirthara-ma" banter was pure spite from Solas at Vivienne because she, on the surface, represents all that he despises (speaking only from what the Inquisitor knows about both of them during their journey when Solas would say this to her). But I don't think it is just sneering (though that's part of it - his reaction is genuine and I'm not arguing otherwise - his delivery shows his disgust for her arrogance). I think that he is warning her where this kind of grandiose thinking leads... because he learned. He believed the world was better off with him "setting its course" and now believes it was a mistake and he lost everything because of it and will destroy everything to undo it. He knows the folly of being a powerful, ambitious, and idealistic mage; he knows it is nothing more than arrogance to wish to shape history and command empires. And while he certainly grows frustrated at Vivienne's barbs and constant challenges, he clearly respects her a great deal, and I think much of that respect stems from Solas seeing a younger version of him in her (because, Solas is, lets face it, a bit self-involved). It doesn't ultimately matter to him if she doesn't heed his wisdom, of course. Because she is a product of a world that is wrong and nothing she does ultimately matters.

I like to think that if things were different, Solas would have been a great mentor to Vivienne. I see them as kindred spirits even though they are so distanced in history and context. I think if he does see some of himself in Vivienne (including some flaws in common) it adds a layer to his experience with the Inquisition and his time walking Thedas in general. "Neither of us is a fool" means a lot coming from Solas, especially a Solas who would see this world destroyed; he sees value, commonality, in someone like Vivienne who is so totally a product of a world that he despises. She could have been a peer, a rival, even an apprentice to him if things were different. She is a proud, powerful, determined mage, doomed to learn that she doesn't have all of the answers. She is him, or someone he's known, and he can't save her. But in spite of this, he does warn her, again: "Only a fool would ignore such a stark reminder of the destruction of an empire.. but neither of us is a fool." One way to read this is that Solas is telling her of what is to come; destruction of an empire from the very relics and magic that they are agreeing are dangerous. He is careful enough with his words that one may not even recognize the threat, and I don't think Vivienne does in the moment. He tells her in this instance that she is right, and she is no fool, and she may be suspicious but she doesn't truly know what he is saying. We see this with her interactions with Iron Bull, too; Vivienne is susceptible to flattery and quick to believe that her superiority is being recognized.

And does Vivienne heed anything he says, or recognize his wisdom? I think she, at the time, sees little value in what Solas tells her, and when her suspicions are validated by his betrayal, all that it does is strengthen her resolve to stop him. But these comments in Trespasser...

... make me think that his warning gave her a lot to think about. I do think this commentary demonstrates an evolution in Vivienne's worldview, as much of her prior commentary involved restoring order by her own hand, and valuing being in control, and "steering the world's course." I think her comments show that she knows these things are illusions and impermanent. I won't give Solas all the credit here, but I do think he gave her things to think about.