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colleendoran · 1 year

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How Do I Do Stuff

The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.

I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.

Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.

I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.

I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.

This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.

I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.

This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.

But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.

He's pretty, too.

If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.

Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.

Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.

Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.

However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.

Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.

The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.

Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.

I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.

While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.

So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.

If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.

Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.

Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.

So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.

#snow glass apples #chivalry #neil gaiman #drawing

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bby-deerling · 1 month

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zoro + quality time

masterlist || commissions

@eelnoise @willowbelle @atanukileaf @cloudzoro @stsgluver

you and zoro had developed a bit of a routine on the merry; he trains, you either draw or paint him, and you both meditate together afterwards. the time you pass together started as a sharing of productive, comfortable silence, but over time, small flakes of conversation began to sprinkle into your quality time—including some curiosity on zoro's part as he begins to take an interest in all the practice sketches you're making of him.

"how come you're always sketching me all the time?" zoro asks, setting down his ridiculously large barbell. he watches you as he takes a swig of his water; you're still meticulously scribbling and adding some few final touches onto your last drawing.

"you never have a shirt on. makes it easy to study anatomy." you reply teasingly with a soft giggle, looking up at him to take stock of his features one last time, comparing them to the ones you've translated onto your paper.

zoro scoffs in response, a playful smirk creeping onto his features. "i'm sure the stupid cook would take his off if you asked him to. how come it's always me?" he pries, leaning back against the mast.

"ew, no thanks. he's the last person i want to see shirtless." you respond with a grimace, cringing at the mere thought of sanji shedding his shirt for you with hearts in his eyes as he swoons. answering his question, you tell him that since he usually does the same exercise for a little while, it makes it easier for you to do gesture drawings. zoro tilts his head in confusion, prompting you to clarify. "i'm capturing some quick ideas of some poses—i draw you so often that i have a decent idea of what goes where on your face, so i fill those in as an afterthought, even if you've already moved. the important part is making sure the figure looks fluid and accurate." you say, putting a couple finishing touches on your last sketch before showing him.

his eyes widen in awe—they were rough around the edges considering they were a set of practice sketches, but they were good. "you've really got this all figured out, huh?" he asks, unable to take his gaze away from your hard work.

"of course i do—mindful practice is the only way to get better." you tell him with a lopsided smile. zoro gives you a grin in response and nods in agreement. your dedication and commitment to your dream make his heart feel an unfamiliar swell; a bit of introspection while he meditates makes him realize that maybe that's exactly why he's so drawn to you in the first place.

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x you #zoro fluff #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece fanfiction #one piece drabble #zoro fanfic

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evilcowgirl · 7 months

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jealous ellie headcanons

ft. sapphic longing

i get my inspo from sintuationships bc im real

୨♡୧

ellie doesn't like not being around you at social events, or with you out of her sight. it stresses her out so much that she can't even properly enjoy herself without you close to her. can barely pay attention if someone's speaking to her because shes busy trying to watch you in the crowd.

convinces herself that everyone wants you. you often have to assure her that your friends and other people you interact with casually aren't secretly pinning over you or waiting on the opportunity to make a move. she never believes you, always stuck on the idea that you're too good to not have a billion more options.

ALWAYS thinks someone is flirting with you, and get pouty about it. when she's feeling bold enough she'll say something direct.

"i mean you didn't see the way she was looking at you from my perspective, you guys were basically at 3rd base."

ellie knows that you're only her friend, that you don't owe her loyalty, but anytime you bring up time you've spent with someone else she goes all quiet and short with you, not because she's mad at you, but because she gets an unexplainable feeling in her stomach like she's gonna drop dead when she thinks of you enjoying the company of anyone else but her.

cannot go an hour without bringing you up to other people (barely exaggerating.) her mind wanders to you so often she hardly even notices it. at the sight of a trinket you'd like, or a color she knows you love. whenever she hears someone say something that reminds her of you, she's quick to to point that out. you stay on her mind always.

can't handle being away from you too long, she gets antsy and starts asking around about your whereabouts. especially when she's missing you, all hell breaks loose. when she finds out that you were only getting lunch or something simple like that she feels embarrassed at how desperate she was to find you. (she'll definitely do it again tmr.)

likes to see you sitting in her room, around all her stuff doing whatever. painting your nails, reading, listening to music ect. just getting to see you in her personal space makes her happy. knowing that you're safe and with her.

will start an argument if she doesn't know where you've been. arguing with ellie is always slightly maddening because shes so nonchalant when she's being ridiculous that it makes you question yourself.

she's so sweet and nervous when she apologizes though, going over what shes going to say over and over in her room and still messing up.

"i'm just—fuck this is stupid—i shouldn't have said what i said to you. . . about the thing earlier?" she'll look away like a scolded puppy waiting on you to say something. "i'm sorry."

if you accept her apology, you can visibly see the fear leave her body. the worst thing that could happen to her is losing you and anytime she thinks that might happen her whole world gets turned upside down until she knows you're okay with her.

she doesn't see you as her property, just something really special that she wants to keep safe and close.

likes to keep a hand on you when you're walking with her. on your waist, a hand around your wrist or tugging at your clothes when she needs you to follow. she doesn't care if people notice, she'd prefer them to see actually.

writes the little things she notices about you down like she's studying you or something. the way you look at her when you're listening intently, how you act when you're sleepy. things she knows no one else would take note of. she jots down her thoughts about you when they're overwhelming because it helps, talking about it isn't an option she doesn't want to share you with anyone.

"she's so pretty when she's doing her hair, like a fucking angel on earth. she's driving me INSANE. i feel like i'm going to mess this up somehow."

gets jealous when you're babying dogs in front of her and will admit it !

"you never pay that much attention to me." when you totally do.

huge complainer, she's so bold about it too ! if you're spending any extra time with someone she'll get all dramatic about it and ask when you guys' wedding is and if she can be the maid of honor because shes petty.

can and will make things a competition if that means she'll get the chance to show off to you. some guy your age is impressive at target practice? she'll make an effort to double what he did just to say she can.

"i guess I've just had more experience." meanwhile she knew exactly what she was doing.

getting praise from you is like her main goal, anytime you let her know you're proud of her she feels like the most capable person on earth. on the other side of that is her absolutely debilitating jealousy when it comes to hearing you brag on other people. ellie doesn't pride herself on being nice but she gets pretty mean when she feels like you're giving attention she should be getting to others. you mention how well jesse did on his patrol and all of the sudden she's going on about how she's killed more infected as a kid than jesse could even imagine seeing.

oppositely, shes so sweet to you when you're feeling down, always making sure you know no one's allowed to mess with you (other than her) and if someone had she'd set things straight.

when you're feeling bad, or you're sick she likes to watch you sleep because you look peaceful and its ideal for her to see her girl safe nd happy.

strokes your hands and face while you're asleep, careful not to wake you. she's so infatuated and isn't quite sure how to handle it yet but for now she's able to roll with just being your person.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie tlou fanfic #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x female reader #tlou fic #ellie the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader

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jacktoria4ever · 1 year

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Nails

pairing: Rafe x fem!Reader

Summary: you have a nail appointment and ask Rafe if he wants to go with.

A/n: random fucking idea

Enjoy this really fucking stupid story I randomly thought of <333

Dividers by @saradika

You knew you wanted to get your nails done but you didn't know what color to get. This debate started when you were invited to your friends wedding a week before your summer vacation started. Two completely different occasions, and considering you had less than a week until the wedding you had to choose fast. It didn't help that the wedding dress-code was 'minimalistic and old-fashioned' so you couldn't choose a super bold color.

You were annoyed at everything when your boyfriend Rafe walked in.

"Hey baby what're you doing?" He said whole plopping down on the bed in your shared room.

"Looking at subtle but summer-y colors for my nai-" you stopped yourself mid-sentence and just look at him with mischief in your eyes.

"Hmmm" He hummed contemplating whether or not to say anything about your face. He decided on the latter. "What does that face mean, gorgeous?" He said after a bit of complete silence.

"Wanna go with me and pick out the color?" You say eagerly knowing damn well he won't turn down a chance to hang out with his best girl.

"Yes. What time is the appointment?" He asks simply.

"The appointment starts at 2:00 buy we can get there a bit early so you can see all of the colors we'll. And if you want you can choose the style and design." You say in not-so-chill tone.

"I will choose a nice sage green for the color and maybe coffin shape and them little flowers for design." He says feigning excitement.

You stare at him, mouth agape, trying to figure out where he learned all of this knowledge.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He asks curiously.

"How did you know that? Also what color will the flowers be?" You ask incredibly confused.

"Mmm the flowers will be baby blue with little yellow middle thingys and Baby, I've been waiting for you to ask me for so long that I have learned all there is to know about nails. Also I have designs in my mind for every occasion so I'm REALLY prepared." He says as if you're not staring at him in pure disbelief.

"You blow my mind everyday with the amount of knowledge you can fit into that head with the size of that ego." You snap jokingly. Would he really believe it if you were serious?

"Wow, Baby, you're so nice to me." He says sarcastically while pulling you in for a sweet kiss, probably the sweetest kiss you've experienced with him.

"Okay, we have to leave in about...Forty-five minutes so be ready by then and I'll close out my pinterest and get dressed." You said pulling away from him reluctantly.

"Okay, Princess." He says giving you a quick peck on the cheek before walking to your closet and getting the two of you matching outfits in a beautiful muted orange color.

"Ooh, cute outfit, my love." You say happily grabbing it and walking to the bathroom that is attached to your room.

When you walked out you swear you can feel all of the air being sucked out of the room because of the incredible gasp you hear your adorable boyfriend take. "Beautiful, absolutely beautiful, have I told yiu today that I love you?" He says dumbfounded almost.

"I don't think you have. Do you love me?" You say trying to fuck with him.

"You have no clue how much I love you, Darling." He says quietly, almost silently.

》》——>>

At the nail salon you picked out the colors for your nails and sat down. You picked, as stated before, a sage green, a baby blue and a yellow that could be seen from a mile away.

The whole time the lady wah painting you nails Rafe wasn't even paying attention, he was staring at you as if you were the most beautiful woman to ever walk this earth. And to him you were.

He was lovesick and at this point him being utterly obsessed with you made Topper and Kelse annoyed constantly.

After you were done you walked out to his truck and he opened the door for you and you climbed into the comfortable seat whole Rafe scurried to the drivers side and climbed into the truck the exact same way as you.

"Lemme see, Baby." He says making grabbing hands toward your hands.

"Okay, okay. Be patient, Rafey." You mumbled whole basically throwing your hands at him.

"Oh my Goodness, Baby, they look amazing!" He cheered in excitement.

"It was all you, Handsome." You said reassuringly.

And you both lives happily ever after-ish

Thank you for reading this hope you enjoyed as much as I enjoyed writing it.

If there are any typos I'm so sorry I was writing this half asleep and reread it and was like "Okay then!" And now I'm posting it

Taglist: NOBODY YET BUT LMK

Also, sorry if it seemed rushed

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe fluff #rafe x you #obx rafe cameron

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nomazee · 24 days

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enough to make me cry

blade is your only roommate, your only friend, and your only way home from this terrible party you found yourself in.

blade x gn reader — 3.3k — college & roommates au!, very americanized college experiences, frat parties, mentions of drinking & vomiting, could be read as platonic but there are definitely romantic undertones, feelings of inadequacy/being out of place, hurt/comfort, social anxiety, blade is probably ooc i'm gonna be so honest, mild kafka & reader friendship, erggg im probably missing something

notes: no i have to be so honest blade is probably completely out of character i have not played a single side quest with him in it but i just think he has reluctant roommate-to-best friend potential and i wanted to pour that into a fic,,, this is mostly unintelligible but i did proofread! love you all

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

A warm hand rests on your shoulder, and the first thing that you think is Blade’s hands are supposed to be cold.

It’s really pathetic. You’re somewhere in a stupid frat house, the thrumming of music around you. There’s the flashing colors and sounds of Mario Kart on the TV, the smell of puke (probably yours) and corona lite, and a hand on your shoulders that you’ve discerned is not your roommate, Blade’s.

Looking to the side, you follow the hand (painted, manicured nails, definitely still not Blade’s), and it leads up to an arm up to a shoulder up to a face, and—oh.

“You’re—” you pause, getting your words in order before you puke them up, “you’re Blade’s pretty lady friend?” It’s supposed to come out as a statement, but leans more to a question. She looks down, a bit of a teasing grin on her face, but her eyes are a little soft so you trust her.

“Is that what he calls me?” she jokes.

“No, I’m— I came up with that.” If you had any dignity left in you, you’d be embarrassed to admit that to her. Unfortunately, you’re pretty sure that Kafka (the pretty lady friend in question) just held your hair back and wiped your face as you puked into a frat-house toilet, flushing your dignity away with your dinner. Your eyes burn with tears and mortification, and you pray that only Kafka saw your embarrassing mishaps.

“I called him to pick you up,” she tells you, already looking away from you and scanning the room as if looking for something, or someone. “I would take you home myself, but I’ve got some things to take care of. And I’m assuming you didn't bring your keys with you?”

A quick pat-down of your pockets confirms that, yes, you somehow managed to leave your keys at home, the one personal necessity that you were supposed to bring besides your phone. Which, thankfully, you do at least have.

“Umm, the…” you mutter, tongue tangling uselessly as you try to find a way out of here without facing the impending doom of Blade’s aggravated scolding and his I told you so’s.

A week ago, you went to him with an invite to this frat party and begged him to come with you, saying something like You don’t go out much, this is your chance! He’d adamantly refused, calling it a bad idea and rolling his eyes whenever you brought it up. But you were stubborn, and you wanted to have a fun college experience, so you forced him to drive you to the party with the promise of paying for his next gas payment and getting your own ride back home at the end of the night.

“I can go,” you finally tell Kafka, mind stringing along memories and thoughts and alarm bells of get your ass home before you have to sit in an awful car ride with Blade, “It’s, like, a fifteen minute walk, don’t call him.”

“It’s a little too late for that, kid,” Kafka drawls, amusement in her words. She’s smiling down at you, and you’re reminded of how small you feel. “He’s already on the way.”

“No!” you protest, a little too loudly, but not loud enough to be heard over the thumping of music and bodies and voices. “It’s— Kafka, please, just tell him to turn around, I really don’t want him to deal with me today.”

If you knew her even less, you’d misinterpret the twitch in her expression as concern—but you’re not too dumb, so you read it as amusement. “Trust me, he’s not going to have a problem with that. You’ll be fine.”

Whatever that means. Kafka’s too cryptic for your liking, but you won’t complain. She wiped up your vomit from the dirty bathroom tiles and stayed with you to make sure you didn't get trampled, and she didn't complain about any of that. In a week, when you have enough strength to face her again, you’ll treat her to a good, expensive, flaky pastry. She seems like the kind of person who would love those.

Her phone buzzes with a text notification, and she clicks her tongue, standing up and pulling you with her. Her hand is still warm, seeping through the sleeve of your shirt as she takes you by the forearm, gentle but guiding. Your stomach churns at the thought of seeing Blade, the thought of him seeing you like this. Freshly-puked-out with a nasty stomachache all because of a party that he told you not to go to.

You hold back your protests as Kafka leads you through the still-crowded frat house. What time is it? Has nobody gotten bored yet, seriously? At least you didn't kill the mood by running to the bathroom and weeping into the toilet. It seems like nobody noticed, except for Kafka, and you don’t know if that should make you feel comforted or just more upset.

The cool air of the night hits you as you step through the front door, eyes tracking your feet as you walk down the concrete steps. You see the silhouette of Blade’s ugly blue car in your peripheral vision, but you don’t want to look up in fear of seeing the disappointment on his face so soon. He’s going to rip you a new one, and then call you a slob and kick you out of the apartment and say I can’t have a party fiend living with me even though this was your first party ever, honest.

You barely register that you’ve reached the passenger side of Blade’s car, only coming back to awareness when Kafka opens the door for you and starts nudging you into the seat. A really pathetic part of you wants to grab onto her arm and cry hard enough that she just relents and lets you walk home, but you’re already half into the passenger seat, looking everywhere but Blade.

“Take care of them, won’t you, Bladie?” Kafka commands lightly, her hand leaving your arm as you get situated and buckled up in the car. Blade lets out a little huff in response and your stomach sinks. He’s already annoyed.

The car ride to your apartment is only five minutes at this time of night. You just have to survive five minutes in silence and pray that he doesn’t tear into you and scold you like a disappointed parent. A glance at the clock on the car’s console confirms that it’s half past midnight. What the fuck. What were you even doing at the party for that long, besides vomiting and crying?

The car rumbles, exhaust sputtering a little bit as Blade pulls out from the side of the street and drives slowly, carefully, as if not to rattle you, and you really just want him to speed up and throttle the car around so you feel more guilty about waking him up in the middle of the night to come pick you up. Blade goes to bed at eleven, the latest. You can’t imagine why Kafka thought it would be a good idea to call him, of all people, but then you remember that you kind of don’t have any other friends on campus. Your chest tightens at the thought.

Blade makes some kind of sniffling noise, his way of trying to initiate some kind of conversation. There’s not even any music playing, because he always drives in dead silence because he’s abnormal, and on any other day you’d tease him about it like you always do. You see him turn his head to you in the corner of your eye, but you refuse to acknowledge him. You wish he’d just start scolding you, yelling at you or something.

Tears prickle behind your eyes, painfully so, but your hands tighten around each other in your lap as you will yourself to not cry like a baby in front of your roommate. He lets out another sigh, but it doesn’t sound angry, just tired, and somehow that makes you feel worse.

“What were you guys even drinking?” is his question of voice, and it’s the one question you didn't want him to ask, and you can’t help it when the tears spill over and you bring your hand up to wipe them away frantically, hiccuping a little bit as your gut churns.

“What—” Blade stutters, and he never stutters, and you see him whip his head around to look at you, crying into your hands over a simple question, and you just want to leave the car and walk home like you told Kafka you would do. He pulls over to the side of some residential street. There’s a dog barking in a yard and wind chimes clinking together, and you think of your handmade bottle cap wind chime hung in the balcony of yours and Blade’s apartment, and it just makes you cry more.

The car comes to a full stop. Blade puts it in park and turns completely to you. You spare a quick glance at him through the gaps between your fingers, and there’s something like worry on his face, which you’ve never seen before. His face is pinched, lips parted as if wanting to say something, but he can’t. He’s waiting for you.

“I didn't drink anything, Blade,” you sob, feeling miserable at the state of yourself, at how you went to a frat party with nobody you knew and just walked around like a lost child, too scared to drink or talk to anyone, too anxious to say a word. “Not even a shot, or a sip, nothing from the fridge. It was so stupid, you were right, okay? It was a stupid idea, and I shouldn’t have gone.” Your breath catches in your throat, and the car is dead quiet as Blade lets your words sink in.

You try not to make so much noise when you cry, but you’re sniveling and wiping your face and wishing that he would just stop looking at you like that. You can still see the ruby-red of his eyes even when you can’t bear to look up at him, and it makes you so viscerally upset.

Blade is beautiful, really, and it makes you so upset that he looks better than you right now despite him being dragged right out of bed by Kafka’s phone call with a request to pick you up just minutes ago. You, who spent hours selecting an outfit, just to feel inadequate and wholly ugly the minute you walked through the door. It felt like you were back in middle school, spending hours with your parents picking out an outfit to a school dance, looking through ties and pants and shoes, just to show up and feel both overdressed and underdressed, feel like a fool, feel like you just can’t look the way everyone else does. Like something is always a little wrong.

“Kafka said that you got sick. You didn't drink anything? You’re sure?”

“No,” you confirm pitifully, wanting him to just drop the topic and drive the rest of the way home and never talk about this again. “I was just anxious, and I puked like an idiot. Kafka helped me, she was the only one that I knew at the party. I don’t know. I don’t remember anymore. I was just anxious.”

He says your name, not unkindly, but with a prying tone that just makes a fresh wave of tears stream down your face in rivulets. “Why would you go if you didn't know anyone?”

“I don't know!” you shout, heated with embarrassment. You’re acting like a child, throwing a tantrum and crying and shouting in Blade’s car. The seatbelt is too tight on you. You fiddle with it, pulling it from the juncture of your neck and shoulder and loosening it, scratching your bitten nails against the scratchy cloth and looking out of the car window so that you can avoid Blade’s awful, terrible, intrusive gaze.

“I just wanted to be normal, or something. I don’t know anybody from any of my classes. I don’t talk to anyone from my major. And then I got the invite for the party somehow and I just thought it would be fun. I don’t know, Blade, I know I should’ve listened to you, I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” he says firmly, fully turned to you now, as if he wants you to look back at him, to listen to whatever he’s going to say, and that’s the one thing you don’t want to do. You hate that he’s being kind. You wish he’d be sarcastic and mean and cruel, bite into you and feed off your self-pity. But he’s being nice, nice in the same way that he’s nice when he buys the right brand of milk for you (because the others make you sick, and the taste is different), or when he drives you places in his car when it’s raining so that you don’t have to take the buses everywhere, or when he comes home with your ridiculous coffee order that costs a hellacious amount of money with all of your substitutions and additions and flavorings.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he says resolutely, leaving no room for argument, “Just— I didn't know you were feeling like that. I would’ve gone with you if you told me you needed someone. I assumed you were going with a friend.”

You don’t respond with I don’t have any friends, because you’re pretty sure that’s clear enough by now, and you don’t want to confirm what’s already been confirmed a million times over just from the way you act. The way you cling to yours and Blade’s apartment, the way you never spend a second longer than you need to in any of your classes, the way that sometimes, when Blade goes out for class or work, you sit on the couch in silence with your laptop out, doing your work for the week and checking the clock and taking naps so that you don’t have to feel so alone for so long.

“You didn't want to go,” you say instead, “I wasn’t going to make you just because I’m— I don’t know.”

“I would’ve gone for you,” he tells you, really tells you, with a force in his words, like he wants to drive the point into you with a stake, driven right through your heart. “I would do a lot of things if you asked. You just need to ask.”

You don’t— you really don’t want to think about what that means. What he means. You rip your eyes away from the car window and turn to face him. He’s not too close. You almost wish he could be closer, but you would suffocate under the pressure in your stomach and behind your eyes.

He shouldn’t say things like that, things like You just need to ask, because you’d ask for a lot if given the chance. You’d ask for him to come to parties with you, stay by your side, let you put a hand on his shoulder and guide him around another disgusting frat house as if you know what you’re doing. You’d ask him to sleep in the same bed as you some nights, just a foot away from each other, backs turned to each other but still close enough that you can feel the unnatural coldness that radiates off of Blade.

You’d ask him to introduce you to Kafka and that other girl they hang out with, to say something stupid and funny like This is my abhorrent roommate, be nice to them, and that way you’d have more contacts in your phone that aren't just Blade and your parents and two old high school friends who you haven’t spoken to in a year. You’d ask him to be a lot more than just a plus-one to a party full of people you’ve never met.

“I just want to go home,” you breathe out, a guilty confession burning your gums and leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry,” he asserts for the second time tonight, making your lungs squeeze as you puff out a tired exhale. Blade turns back in his seat, taking the car out of park and heading back onto the road—driving slowly, yet again, avoiding cracks and potholes in the road. “You need to eat something. You’ll wake up with a hellish headache if you go to bed dehydrated.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“I said it, so it’s true,” he says petulantly, turning the car down into a road that’s definitely not in the direction of your apartment building. To your hidden delight, the glowing sign of a twenty-four-seven ice cream store comes into view, and you sit up just a little bit. Blade slows the car as he turns into the drive-thru, glancing at you with an eyebrow half-raised.

“What do you want? I’ll order for you.”

“I don’t have my wallet,” you admit, just a little bit embarrassed. “I didn't even bring my keys with me. Do you think they take Apple Pay?”

A breathy laugh escapes him, and you catch sight of a dimple pressed into his cheek, and you want to press your thumb into it and look at his smile, just for a little longer. “Don’t be dumb. I’m paying,” he tells you, the same way he has every time he pays for your cafe drink, or when he comes home from work with your favorite, and says You’re broke enough without having to pay for these drinks, don’t pay me back in that snippy way he shows his care.

You ask for a medium vanilla milkshake, with sprinkles, and he gets you a large instead, which you’re more than grateful for. He refuses to let you look at the receipt for the total cost, and hands you the milkshake with a comical severity that you often see in him. The sweet drink washes away any bitter taste left in your mouth, and you feel a little better, a little nicer in your haphazard party outfit and under Blade’s fleeting gaze.

A deep sigh escapes you, one of relief, when the car finally parks at your apartment building. Blade puts a cold hand between your shoulder blades, unobtrusive and leading, and it’s a comforting contrast from the heat lingering on your skin from the party and the closed car. It feels right, more in-place than Kafka’s warm hands were when she wiped your face and kept you steady, though she was just as gentle.

Blade all but tosses you onto the couch, claiming that it’s much too late for a shower and he’d rather not deal with you collapsing from exhaustion in the tub. You relent easily, the exhaustion of the night hitting you and soaking into your limbs.

“I’ll let you sleep on the couch,” he says, and it’s a good and kind thing, because he knows that sometimes you hate your bedroom because it’s just too empty, and the constant sound filtering into the living room puts you at ease. He never lets you sleep on the couch, because it’s bad for your back, and he jokes about you developing adult onset scoliosis with the awful way you sleep. Letting you do it, just this once, is another one of his small mercies.

The TV is on, humming at a low volume, and your legs are thrown across Blade’s lap. You’re shocked that he’s willing to fall asleep with you like this, but he’s kind, sarcastic and biting but kind all the same, as much as he loathes to admit it. It’s not too lonely, you decide, hearing the bottle cap wind chimes on your balcony clink together in dissonant harmonies.

(There’s a missing text from a new contact on your phone when you wake up, coming from pretty lady friend, extending an invite to brunch in two days, and you kick your legs on the couch in giddy excitement, thinking about how you’ll rope Blade into coming with you, too.)

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

taglist: @tragedy-of-commons

(pssst!!! send me a msg or fill out the form in my navi to be added to the taglist!!!)

#blade x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #blade hsr x reader #hsr blade x reader #hsr ren x reader #thats his name right..........#blade x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #begging myself to write something under 1k next time #i miss when i had the ability to write short drabbles instead of behemoths #i say this as if i don't have a supernatural blade fic thats already 5k and not even halfway done #THATS the real behemoth #he's so out of character here forgive me #i just like his pretty face #me writing about a frat party when i have yet to even touch the vicinity of a party house

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prettypei · 8 months

Text

plot: satosugu bf headcanons (seperately); fluff!

reader: gn! Reader

parings: highschool! geto, gojo

warnings:none?? I don’t think so

(a/n): SUGURU ON THE MIND!!!! esp after that new ep gawd damn

✰GOJO

HES SUCH A LOSER BF

like you knew it from the way he asked you out

he planned to ask you out by making a cake that said "date me?" on it

he thought it was romantic

but gojo srsly cant cook

he even though he really likes sweets he cant even fry an egg so the cake turned out something like... imagine the worst cake possible with frosting everywhere and the message on top of the cake is unreadable and the cake is a weird brown color? yeah its like that

you agreed to go out with him anws

if you ever get in a fight hes definitely pullin up to fight with you, no matter how wrong you are

"cats are dogs" "yea they're basically animals so they're the same!"

will ask to copy homework EVERY. SINGLE TIME.

he claims that he trusts you like you grades vould be going downhill and he would still borrow urs

is the type of person to accidentally copy the name too

such a virgin everyone says he's a major f-boy but in reality he has never felt another person touch him romantically

he gives you goofy grins whenever he does sth stupid (and when he does it's mostly bc he wants to see you laugh)

calls you the most ridiculous pet names "sugar bby pookie bear"

also likes referring to you as candies like he called you liquorice one time???

has a habit of applying lip gloss... like A LOT.

"can I kiss u babe" "yeah lemme put on lip gloss rq" *proceedes to spend 10 whole minutes smacking his lips and applying lip gloss*

really big on pda hes suuupperrrr into it, but he'll tone it down if you're uncomfortable

if ur into it tho? he kisses you every two secs

TAKES THE WORST DATING ADVICE EVER FROM THE TRIO

"guys where shld I bring (name) on a date?" "Bring her to a sewer, that way they'll be scared and hug you."-geto "idk a therapist?"-shoko (in the end you were just grossed out, but he somehow makes it sweet and wholesome at the same time?)

✰GETO

he texts you a lot of memes (I'm sure this is widely agreed throughout the fandom lol)

doesn't hug you a lot in public but he does wrap his arm around your shoulder

he wouldn't be reallyyyy affectionate but if you are he'll accept your hugs with a little smile

he likes my melody more than kuromi

his love language is quality time, sometimes you'll spend dates just lounging out on the couch and doing nothing. However, he thinks it's much nicer than just being by himself

really great memory, he notices those small details about you that no one else does, or even the ones you're unaware of like when you always fold a napkin when you're at a restaurant yk hes cute like that

asks the weirdest questions ever: "do you think I'm a squirrel or a chipmunk?" respond with "I think you're an idiot" QUICK!!!

he gets super moody when his hair ties are missing, he has a whole bag of them at his dorm

allows you to give him silly hairstyles when he's sleepin <3

loves truth or dare and 20 questions

has a weird obsession with puzzles and he likes it if he’s piecing one together with you

he also gets competitive without knowing. Like even with you if you guys are at an arcade and you win him at basketball hoops he’s bitter

”let’s do it again I was not ready” “you said that 5 times and I still won” “NO”

he believes in astrology stuff

is more emotionally attracted to people than physically

he may come off as cold but he just doesn’t express as much as gojo

he sometimes paints (mostly watercolor) and a lot of them are of you or are inspired by you <333

MY POOKIE!!! Free my man he did nothing wrong!!!!

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argreion · 3 months

Text

A Pretty Little Mouse You Are

Dragon-shifter Leon x Female Reader smutty drabble.

Warnings: Tiny gore talk. Dragon munch Leon, him having sensitive horns and doing a little grinding... I'm really passionate about this, shut up. Low-key monster fucking.

Val Here — We don't get banners, we get pussy ate. IM GOING THROUGH A 2AM PHASE RN. SHITTY SMUTTY WRITING MAKES THE WORLD GO AROUND Y'ALL! I need to make s'mores with him you don't understandddd! We love stupid crappy endings too. cbyushajkcn. It's literally 4AM, and I'm just gonna say again so sorry if the writing is shitty I'm not proofreading I'm TIREDDDD!

Was it easy to be a 'mate' to a dragon? Being shipped off like those cliché stories. Yeah, uh, thanks to the village, you got thrown on a horse. Having to watch as this 'dragon' feasted on it, gore covering his face. Next, wanting to look at you with ravenous eyes. Oh, how this would be fun...

Fun that you would be put to such torture. Feeling his burning tongue swipe against your bundle of nerves. Your hands curling around those rough horns; ridges against your soft hands. The dragon-kin bucking against the sheets he often ruined. Letting himself get lost in your sweet taste.

“S-stop...” You moaned, weak from the overstimulation. It was like he never lost any energy. Infinite stamina for a beast that was alive for so many fucking years. Couldn't remember what he told you, the only thing that mattered was that skilled tongue he had—both in quick-wittedness and sex.

Only hearing a grunt against your lips, already got your answer. A stubborn no, as he pushed his tongue inside your weeping hole. Causing you to tighten your grip on his horns, head tossed back.

Leon couldn't help that you were so pretty. Arriving on that horse, crying your eyes out and your screams muffled. Watching you struggle as he grew closer to your form. All vulnerable, soon to be become his little pretty jewel. Painted in claw marks and bites. His little mate.

He also couldn't help his hips as he ground against your shared bed. Well, more like lazily thrown together nest. With the help of Leon, 'graciously' stealing pillows and a fancy blanket for you. Luxurious for a common girl from a village.

Hearing him mutter words in her mother tongue against your folds almost made you cum on the spot. Watching as he stared at you, staring at that fucked-out look on your face. Made his hips act up more, jutting his hips against the bed harshly.

“Make those noises, make those pretty little mews.” Leon hissed, suddenly biting into your thigh. Forcing a moan to come from your lips. Fangs threatened to make blood pour from the bite if he so desired. Pretty little human cries...

“My pretty little human.”

Already gotten what he needed, he finally let you cum on his tongue. Feeling the roughness grind against your pussy, fangs tracing against your folds. Sucking on your clit and pulling off with a pop. Watching as you would squirm, your hips thrusting into his mouth at the very last seconds. High impending on you as you heaved through your noises, before cumming with a high-pitched cry. Followed by expletives, and by expletives, many of 'em.

The look on his face, covered in release. Cloudy fluids leaked down his face, from his cheek to his chin. Licking the small drop on his lips with a satisfied hum. Watching as you faded in and out of consciousness. In the irk of temptation, he brought his hand up and brought it down against your mound. Making you yelp in surprise, bringing you out of the haze.

“What the fuck was that for!?” You yelled, yanking your head up to glare at him. Watching as he chuckled, gently caressing it as a nonverbal apology. Shifting to lay beside you, letting his tail lay across your stomach.

“Mmmm, you're cute when you squeak, like a mouse.” He purred, vibrating from his chest to his throat. Snuggling against you with a gentle, loving kiss to your temple.

“My pretty little squeaky mouse...”

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you

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maybnksdoll · 2 months

Note

jj request-

smoke session while playing truth or strip which leads into rough fuck and getting caught (by who? you can decide) 💞

jj maybank x fem!innocent!reader ♡

" truth or strip "

"dude, really? just because you're sleepy?" jj asked his best friend after he said that he was going home, looking how he was standing up and going to the door "yeah, was a long day, after all" john b said before telling him goodbye. "i'll do the same, dad wants me to work since early tommorrow, 'm sorry man" pope repeated john b actions before passing through the chateau room's door, leaving jj insulting him alone.

you were giggling at that situation, while the cigarette smoke were running through your mouth.

"don't get mad, j" you called him "at least i'm not going anywhere" you smiled at him.

time passed, and you two started a little blunt rotation, talking about weird things while the room was being filled with smoke.

"let's play somethin', " jj told you looking at you, sitting in the bed in a comfier position "okaaaay, what do you wanna play?" you asked him while sitting beside him.

"so, there's this game called 'truth or strip', did you heard of it?" he started. you told him you didn't had idea of what it was, so, he explained "it's something similar to truth or dare, but this one has an specific dare" he looked at you "you can tell the truth, or taking off one piece of your clothes, and visceversa, you get it?" you nodded, you were too baked to take an clear decision, you were pretty innocent and "good girl" type of girl. but after all, he was only your best friend, right?

the game was about to start, after jj lighted the third blunt of the night, he told " 'kay pretty, you start" you throught a few seconds, touching your knees "what's your favorite school subject?" jj started laughing at that question, admiring how ingenue you were "well, its probably biology, either, I don't even like school" his confesion wasn't new for you "my turn now" he says "are you virgin?" your eyes widened a little. you didn't expected that question, since he knew how shy you were (and how shy you were to tell him that actually, you were virgin), you thought he weren't going to make a question like that, so, you just pulled out your baby pink socks, revealing your little nails painted red.

"how many girlfriends did you had?" you asked "only two, nothing serious tho" he confessed, letting the blunt in the little plate on the night table. he made you the same question, only with the difference that you never had a boyfriend before.

the game was starting to getting hotter, and the clothes were messed up all around the room. you were sitted in jj's lap, without your tee and skirt either, while his hands were resting in your hips. it was his turn "would you let me kiss you?" he said, looking straight at your lips, it looked like he didn't wanted to say it, but for sure he thought it. after saying a shy "yes" he didn't think twice and attacked your glosy lips like an predator.

as your and his lips met like magnetically, a surge of raw emotion swept through them. the intensity of their kiss was a mix of desire and urgency. his touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as you two lost their own common sense

"fuck this little stupid game" he said, while taking out your wet panties roughly, and the same with his boxers, revealing his hard erection to you.

with his hands he positioned you easily, and in a quick movement he was thrusting into you, looking at you letting little and high pitched moans and whimpers get out of your lips, with a hand on your neck and the other one in you hip. he was getting deeper into you, mumbling things about how tight and wet you were "all mine" he groans, seconds before filling you up with his fluids, rolling his hips into yours a few minutes more "all fucking mine. lets see how this little whore will take my fucking dick" he takes a pillow and puts it under your tummy, putting your ass at his desire.

the thrusts were getting speed, making your eyes wet as your cunt, making you feel vulnerable at his big and well trained figure.

you were about to finish, letting out desesperated moans fill the ambient, until you heared a voice getting closer and closer.

"hey guys, i think i left my phone here-" your mind painted white when you heard john b's voice in the room.

"what at you looking at? huh?" jj's voice yell to john b, while he stared the whole situation without reaction "take you fucking phone and go still wishing you were me to fuck her little tight pussy, 'kay?" seconds after hearing that, john b fastly took his phone and loudly closed the door.

"idiot, he will never get this view of you. right, bun?" he groaned, filling you up with a dense and large amount of cum inside you.

tired, he let his body fall on the bed, right beside you.

"i left bunny without air" he saids proudly, leaving a sweet kiss on your neck.

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oozedninjas · 3 months

Note

How would the bayverse turtles react to their partner putting eggs and mayonnaise in their hair? 😭 I used an egg mask once and it works but imagine what they'd think lmaooo

haha omg!

Leonardo

Leo had a hand clamped over his mouth as he watched you intently. The glimpses of his expression reflected in the mirror oscillated between distress and a dash of bewilderment.

"Why the contorted face?" you teased, a smirk playing on your lips. "It's just a hair mask!"

"It reeks of eggs and mayonnaise. Are you sure you want that on your hair?"

Not that Leo was a hair expert. Turtles, after all, weren't known for their luscious manes. But, in his humble reptilian opinion, smearing edibles on your head wasn't exactly the pinnacle of wisdom.

"I've tried it before, don't worry. It works like a charm."

Leo responded with a miniature smile. "I trust your judgment," he muttered, simultaneously shooting a quick text to Donnie, contemplating the need for a contingency plan in case your hair decided to fall off your head.

Raphael

"Hey babe, why are you smearing sandwich condiments in your hair?"

The question came so sincerely and with such a shocked innocence that you couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well, it sounds stupid when you say it like that! But it's a hair mask. I read that it helps make your hair look brighter."

Upon seeing your smile, Raph shrugged his worries away. Your hair was too important to you for you to intentionally ruin it.

He gave you a supportive smile. "Let me know if you need help getting rid of the smell, 'kay?"

"Sure! I—wait, what do you mean?!"

Donnie

"Did you know that rosemary and vanilla are also very effective for hair care and maintenance? I added a couple of recipes here, oh, and I included the preparation methods as well. These herbs are much better for hair hydration than mayonnaise with egg, I assure you."

You took the book with both hands. It was a kind of recipe book for natural hair masks, and you couldn't help but smile. You knew he had something up his sleeve since the last time you asked for help covering the back of your hair with the mask.

"Donnie, this is… it's wonderful. Thank you so much."

He gifted you a smile, his fingers nervously endearingly playing with each other.

"It's nothing. I'm glad you liked it."

Mikey

"Hmm, hmm, yeah," Mikey nodded along to every word as you passionately explained how this hair mask was destined to turn your locks into a radiant masterpiece. Simultaneously, he found himself typing a frantic query into Google: "My girlfriend's putting eggs in her hair, what do I do?" - just in case things took an unexpected turn.

"I'm so excited to see the results! Bet it'd look even prettier," you chanted, delicately massaging the mixture into your hair.

Mikey's heart melted, and an unabashed smile of adoration painted itself across his face.

"That would be impossible, babycakes. You're already perfect."

#this was super fun haha #tmnt #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt bayverse #tmnt x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt mikey x reader #mikey bayverse #tmnt mikey bayverse #tmnt bayverse leo #tmnt bayverse donnie #tmnt bayverse raph #raph x reader #donnie x reader #tmnt raphael

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anundyingfidelity · 16 days

Text

YES, MA’AM — Sam Winchester/Sam Wesson ft. Dean Winchester/Dean Smith (Chapter I)

Summary: Sam is the new tech support guy at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc., and he thinks you, his supervisor, are related to him in ways more than professional. He not only dreams of ghosts and Dean Smith, the sales and marketing director, but you, the pretty boss who seems very fond of him, maybe a little too much.

Word count: 1.3k.

Pairing: Sam W./Sam Wesson x female reader (main), Dean W./Dean Smith x female reader. Situated in 4x17 - It's a Terrible Life.

Warnings for this series: smut with plot, sexual tension, sub!Sam, dom!reader, switch!Dean, co-workers with benefits with Dean, boss/employee dynamics, canon violence and stuff.

Notes: welcome to my very first spn fanfic, hope you enjoy this short series of Sam and Dean!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Chapter I: A Boring Life

Taking a quick look at the clock on the corner of the screen of his computer, Sam let out a long sigh. Lunch hour was far from near. He continued drawing the monsters he saw in his dreams on the notebook, those who wouldn't let him continue his abnormally boring and stupid life.

"Hey, Sam," a voice called, making him jump slightly on his seat.

He cleared his throat shutting the notebook and sitting right this time as he took in your figure towering over him in the cubicle with a smile on your lips.

"Hi, uhm... Is something wrong?"

You chuckled slightly. He wanted to slap himself for saying that. For Sam, bosses coming to him meant he might have done something wrong. He didn't want to know what he screwed up. Barely three weeks have passed since he started working there. As much as things were strange and weird around, Sam just wanted a quiet life.

"Not at all," you answered in a friendly manner. "Actually I just wanted to give you kudos. I've received good compliments from customers who called for help, you're doing excellent!"

Sam breathed out, feeling a heavy weight on his back dropping. He smiled. "Well, thank you. It feels good doing that."

But a raise or something would feel absolutely better, he thought.

"Sure! You're brilliant, have you ever been told that?"

"Uhm, not here. I mean- I want to say you're the first one. Sorry, the first one to say I'm brilliant, I- uhm I never really got kudos before? I don't think so but it does feel great."

He stumbled so much with his words that it made you laugh a little but he noticed you tried to suppress it. So you gave him a nod.

"Yeah, of course. I also see you're very organized with your stuff and reports," you remarked before taking a quick glance around and leaning a little bit toward him, your face morphing into a shy look. "Probably I shouldn't but could you help me with some reports today? You'd be off the phone, I just really need to send them by the end of the day and I'm extremely busy."

You bit your painted lower lip with big doe eyes, waiting for an answer. Since the first day he saw you around the company, he thought you looked extremely familiar. Like he had seen you before. Hell, it was like he knew you ages ago. But he wouldn't say it out loud, he might look like a creep.

You'd usually come like this to his spot just to talk and get into business, sometimes he'd go to ask you something he wasn't sure about from a call, but he never, ever herd from a complaint or that his work was shit from you. In fact, you were very kind and smart, always letting him know you were there if he needed anything. And you were pretty. So damn beautiful that you got his heart agitated and his body aching when you bent over a desk wearing tight black pencil skirts and those matching high stockings. He began to think probably you liked him but you used to get close to all of your employees on the tech support floor. You were just being nice to everyone.

"Uh, sure. I can do that," Sam curved his lips into a smile.

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver! I'll send you those in your email, ask me anything if it's difficult, okay?"

You responded with happy demeanour and quickly walked away back to your office, leaving him alone before he had the moment to say something. Just two minutes later he received an email from you with a bunch of reports and data to organize.

Sam scanned the files quickly while hearing the sounds of a chair rolling to his side.

"I think she likes you, man," Ian, the messy and chill coworker of his, teased. Sam chuckled.

"Nah, she's just nice to everyone. Besides, she needs help."

Suddenly, a notification popped from the side of his screen on the computer.

It was a message from you. It read:

Put on the headphones and listen to some music if you want ;)

"You were saying?" Ian joked again.

He smiled. Well, at least he'd be off the phone. Shouldn't be that hard, right?

The night fell and Sam found himself alone on his desk at eight o'clock working on your reports. Seeing the long reports and files he thought could make it on time to finish his shift at four and leave on time. It was fucking Friday. Poor him.

At least you ordered delivery for dinner for both of you. The good thing was that he wasn't really alone on the floor, you were in your office but soft music played as you worked on your stuff. Moments later, you found yourself sitting by Sam's side as he worked the final things on the last report.

"It's done," he announced, his body falling to the backrest of his chair.

"Thanks," you whispered shyly as he sent the finished files back to you. "I'm so sorry though, it's so late."

"Well, didn't have anything to do either."

"Really?!"

Your surprise made his eyes fall on you. He shrugged. "Just sleep."

You raised your eyebrows. "I thought maybe a girlfriend was waiting for you or something?"

He shook his head, pressing his lips together. "No, nothing like that."

The question was odd coming from you, so he decided to play a little.

"What about you?"

This time you shook your head. "Just my books and my TV."

Sam hummed. "It's a boring life, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well I get to pay my bills by the end of the month... And I meet nice people here... And I see you- Sorry."

You cut off your words all of a sudden, your eyes blinking rapidly saying you realized what you just said.

"My bad. We should get going."

You gave him a smile to try and brush off your words, but they were strong enough to get in Sam's head unnoticed. He watched you walk away, turning your computer and lights off on your office as Sam did the same on his spot. Once done, you walked out the floor together in silence.

"Thank you again. I don't think no one would ever do this for me here," you admitted with a deep exhale.

"Yeah, no problem," Sam smiled kindly as you got closer to the elevator.

"Really, I owe you. Do you have a car to get home or something? I can give you a ride if you need."

"I do, don't worry," he said as you stopped in front of the elevator, the doors opening.

"Great, so I think this is it," you grinned at him. "Have a good night."

"Thanks. I hope you have a good weekend, boss."

You nodded. "You too, Sam. Take care."

He saw you disappearing inside the elevator with a wave of your hand and a beautiful smile on your face. With a sigh, he made his way to the locker room and took his briefcase and stuff out. It was just a couple of minutes that he saw you leaving when he went back to the elevator. Checking his watch, the lift arrived and before he could get inside, he got a shocking picture in front of him.

Dean Smith, the marketing director, had you pinned against the wall and kissing down your neck. Your blouse unbuttoned, skirt up, lips open and eyes closed in bliss. Dean noticed the doors were open, pulling away his plump lips from your skin.

"Sorry buddy, wrong floor," he beamed and pushed the right button.

When you opened your eyes once again, you met Sam's open mouth and wide eyes as the doors closed. Great, now he might think you're a slut.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x female reader #sam x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester imagines #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean x reader x sam #sam wesson #dean smith #supernatural fanfiction

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cowyolks · 1 year

Note

Can you please write relationship headcanons with könig 🙏🏿🙏🏿 I'm so desperate

RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS FOR KÖNIG (NSFW at the end)

A/n: sorry anon I got a bit carried away because he’s my lover.

Warning: Minors DNI after the NSFW border.

When I tell you this man is anxious, he’s ANXIOUS. König needs constant reassurance that he’s doing the right thing. He makes sure you are the top priority, going out of his way to make you happy and feel loved.

König is secretly an artist, he enjoys drawing and painting. If he could get away with it, he’d paint you for hours, his eyes soft while he studies your features.

Expect comfort when it comes to being with König, he’s 6’10, and the best damn snuggle partner ever. You had to buy an extra large blanket so he could keep his feet warm at night.

He’s only comfortable with you seeing him out of his hood. Because he was so bullied in his childhood he found it hard to believe that he was beautiful in your eyes. It means everything to him when you kiss his face, his cheeks, lips, forehead, anything. This man yearns to feel wanted.

König gets quite anxious in crowds, people are always tending to look at how absolutely giant he is, but it makes him feel better when you’ll hold his hand and bump against his shoulder.

König loves to give his S/O little presents, whenever it be small souvenirs from a time on tour to little chocolates and flowers he’d think you’d like.

When he breaks out of his bubble, he’s extremely intelligent and loves to spit out random facts. He spent most of his childhood readying fantasy books about knights and dragons, you jokingly call him your knight in shining armor.

König is a blusher, and gets super flustered when you show him PDA or sexual attraction.

He keeps a Polaroid of you in his breast pocket while he’s on missions, says it’s his best good luck charm. After he comes home he always greets you in a crushing hug, spinning you around in the air as your feet leave the ground.

König is super good with children, you don’t know why, but he’s very attuned to them. Maybe it’s because they have yet to see the horrors and bullying of the world. He usually always leaves them laughing, never wanting a child to go through what he did.

König tries to teach you little sayings in German/Austrian, sitting down with you and pronouncing the words slowly. He gives you a peck on the lips whenever you say it right.

NSFW (Leant more towards F!Readers)

König is a mountain, he’s big, really fucking big. He’s always very gentle with you, even when you tell him not to be. He cares too much to even think of hurting you.

What he refuses to do with his dick, he’ll do with his mouth. Like stated earlier, König is a people pleaser, and nothing makes him harder than hearing you moan as he’s eating you out.

The big guy is stupid strong, he can hold you up for hours, so it’s no surprise he likes to effortlessly pick you up with your legs wrapped around his hips and go to town.

He isn’t a talker, like at all. It’s embarrassing to him. However, he can’t help moaning and grunting. (Especially when you give him head)

He started off very timid when it came to sex, now he knows what pleases. He catches on quick and is a good listener. He was fast to learn where your clit was just based on your expressions and feedback.

König is a sweetheart, but we know he deals with a lot of trauma and anxiety. You couldn’t believe how many times he said sorry after having sex, even if it was for nothing. It took a long time to condition him to realize he had NO reason to apologize and it was a thing both of you wanted.

You’re usually the one that takes care of him afterwards. Rubbing his back after a hot shower. You wear his shirts afterwards and would kiss him until he was flushing red.

#cod #konig #könig #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #konig x reader #könig x reader #cod headcanons

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eyestrain-addict · 9 months

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I just realized why lestat marked Tom, like the big stupid idiot I am

(I know everyone else probably already figured this out, but this is MY blog and I get to post whatever deranged thought crosses my pea brained mind.)

When I watched that scene in episode 5 where they're at the bar talking to Tom, I was confused as to why exactly. Why does Lestat mark Tom? If he's marked to kill, why does he wait almost 2 decades later? Well I realized, as all realizations come, in the shower.

Lestat has been planning on killing Tom the whole time.

(Warning before you click read more, this post is a lot longer than I first intended holy fuck)

Well not the whole time. Just right when Louis realized that Anderson and Fenwick had screwed him over. Maybe even longer if he knew it was a trick ("ridiculous of you to mix human and vampire business it always ends poorly"). Notice how he's upset with louis when he kills the guy who's microaggressive with him, cus lestat wasn't there (even if he was there I have my doubts Lestat would understand microaggressions, but he would have definitely killed him for touching Louis.) But tells Louis he's proud of him for killing Alderman. I think this has to be because he witnessed the disrespect first hand. He didn't give a fuck about the money, what he DID care about was that those two disrespected not only him, but Louis.

Even with Lestats little understanding of race relations of the time in America, he did understand hierarchys. He's from 1700s France for God's sake. It's no coincidence wanted to be king of mardi gras. Lestat came to New Orleans and saw himself as the king, even if no one knew it. And he wanted Louis to be his queen. Honestly I could make an entire other post about how Lestat almost literally saw himself as if he was a King and Louis his beloved Queen, which is why he thought it was okay for him to sleep with other women (mistresses and playthings of the king should mean nothing compared to the queen in lestats eyes) but that's getting off topic. I only bring that up because I'm trying to paint a picture of how I think Lestat sees disrespect done to Louis. To him that goes beyond disrespect or rudeness, it's irreverence.

You begin to notice if you watch scenes with them together. Because while I wouldn't say lestat is good at controlling his anger, he's definitely great at concealing it until it erupts (props to Sam Reid have to be given here) lestat is always on the verge of fury when talking to Tom. It starts as a distaste then as he begins to fall more in love with Louis and become more protective of him, his anger builds. Claudia was wrong about one thing, it was no petty slight that was the reason Lestat killed Tom first, it was a loooonng time coming.

I could list every detail I think supports this but I'm sure you get the gist by now. My main point is really the layer of complexity this adds to not only the story, the characters, but also lestat and louis' relationship. Consider it for a second, Lestat saw all his violence as justified, everything he did one can see it through the lense of him punishing the disrespectful (take a shot every time I say disrespect in this post jesus christ). "I bring death to those deserving" indeed. Lestat has a god complex out the wazoo, and every attack, torture, and death he caused was righteous to him and thus enjoyable. Louis on the other hand didn't see himself so highly. He may seem confident but if you look through the cracks it's apparent Louis's self worth in near nonexistent and he's horribly insecure. I think lestat thought when Louis was made a vampire he would see himself as Lestat saw himself, and as Lestat saw Louis. But again, another post for another time.

Despite Louis' insecurities (or perhaps because of them) louis revels in the violence lestat commits for his sake. That's probably why louis is so quick to forgive lestat about the priests. For a brief moment Lestat truly said the truth to Louis and Louis could forgive him because of it. As lestat says, he doesn't kill the priests to intimidate Louis, nor does he do it just because he enjoys it. He does it because he sees them as humiliating Louis, charlatans that don't deserve Louis' sorrow. Louis didn't want the priest's to die, but he could understand why lestat killed them, simply because for once in his goddamn life lestat told the truth, and louis loved that truth. That truth being that lestat killed and mutilated and committed such horrors not just because he liked it, but because he did it out of a fucked up sense of protection. Him killing the priests was essentially a knight killing a dragon to earn the princess' hand in marriage.

The worst part is that Lestat doesn't even realize it. Not fully anyway. Let's be honest with ourselves, lestat doesn't understand Louis. Obviously there's the race, background, culture differences that lestat doesn't understand nor seems inclined to try, but there are better posts about that made by smarter people than moi. I'm mostly talking about lestat doesn't understand louis' mind itself (louis' mind in a vacuum I suppose you could say) he understands Louis' desire for violence sure, but he doesn't understand the core of that want. Honestly I'm on the fence of if he ever understood that Louis loved it when lestat was protective in the first place. I guess it can be dumbed down to Louis wants Lestat to kill to protect Louis and to protect the family (and anyone who deeply disrepects them), lestat perhaps understood a little at one point, but since he sees everyone as a threat and everything is a slight to him, he has no trouble and qualms with delighting in the torture of people Louis views as innocent. Louis' heart is a bit dark, but ultimately human, so he's disgusted by lestats violence towards the undeserving. Lestat can no longer read Louis' mind and even if he could, Louis doesn't quite understand the difference himself (that's why he tries to hunt for criminals briefly) so the cracks of miscommunication starts to form, and neither of them even realize there is miscommunication.

Therein lies the importance of Tom Anderson for season 1. Not much of a character, more of a plot device in human skin. Claudia can see that Lestat hates him, but doesn't understand why, nor does she care to get to the depths of that. (*Mr house voice* understandable) I think it's notable that Louis rarely brought him up, he didn't understand the depths of lestats love. Nor did he know about Lestats 3 decade long grudge, all because Tom disrespected Louis.

Now I'm not excusing Lestat's actions, I just think it's interesting how this one throwaway character reveals a whole level of complexity to the relationship between him and Louis, and better sheds light on not only Lestats personal philosophy but louis' as well. Even Claudia to a degree.

Anyway, uh. End of essay. Bye.

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elliespassagerprincess · 7 months

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just found this song a week or so ago, and i can’t help but think of ellie every time i listen to it.. it’s called ‘she calls me daddy’ by king mala… if you could write a fic based on it i would fxcking love it♡

She calls me daddy - (ellie williams x reader)

Hi anon! Firstly this song fucking slaps??? It low-key reminds me of moth to a flame by the weeknd just lesbian edition. Anyway I hope you enjoy <3333

This story is based off the song She calls me daddy by King Mala! If you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are always open, feel free to leave one or just send me a song and I'll take it from there:)

Warnings: cheating, men, homophobic parents

Summary: You might be engaged but you still always go back to Ellie

wc: ????

She's a little bit psycho

But she follows

When I call in the middle of the night

It might be a little superficial

She plays with the boys

But she comes home to me

Little fucked up but I think it's official

'Cause she might be your girl

But she's calling me daddy

"Hi Els" she heard you talk with a hushed voice. A smile spread onto Ellies face at the sound of your voice.

"Can you come over? I miss you" Ellie admitted.

"I miss you too" she could hear the smile in your voice.

God why did you have to be so fucking cute?

Ellie couldn't even see your face, but she can imagine the blush that spreads across your cheeks. The way your eyes crinkle anytime she says anything to you.

She knew the affect she had on you, but if only you knew what you were doing to her. It's embarrassing to even think about it.

"I'll try to come..." you started.

Excitement filled Ellie, as she thought of everything the two of you could do. You could watch a movie, or she could do your hair.

Oh! Maybe you can paint her nails-

"but Josh is here so I'm not sure" you finished your sentence.

The joy Ellie felt moments ago fell flat at the mention of your fiancè's name. She wanted to groan whenever you mentioned him in any conversation.

Why do you care so much? You don't even love him.

You quickly said goodbye when Josh called you to join him and all Ellie could do was wish she was him.

He gets to spend time with you. He gets to see you everyday, he gets to spend the rest of his life with you.

What does Ellie get? A few hours with you before you are called by your dear future husband. Hushed calls and quick texts.

No, Ellie didn't deserve this at all, but yet she stayed because she couldn't get enough of you.

As much as Ellie pretends to be in control of your relationship, you were the one that had the final say. Whatever you wanted, she would do.

It's kind of fucked up if you think about it.

The way you're playing the perfect daughter and the perfect wife while you would always come back to Ellie that same night. How you would take pictures with your fiancé, and soon after send Ellie pictures no one but your so called spouse should see.

It never bothered Ellie. Because she always knew that you belonged to her, and even if you were getting married nothing would change that.

She's mine

She wears a collar with my name

Secretive but not ashamed

She's mine

But I never tie her down

They always come around

Mine

Does he know that you call Ellie when he falls asleep? Does he know the type of pictures you send her? Does he fucking know how bad he is in bed?

Ellie wonders if Josh suspects anything. Hee probably wouldn't. He's so fucking stupid anyway.

He doesn't even know what your favorite color is. But Ellie does. Ellie knows everything about you.

The amount of times you've cried over your math homework. The amount of stuffed animals you had in your room.

Did Josh even know how much you loved Barbie when you were younger? Of course he doesn't.

Ellie let out a sigh when she saw your phone light up.

She gently reached over your sleeping figure, to grab your phone, trying not to wake you up.

When she turned the phone on, a picture of you kissing Josh appeared as your lockscreen. Ellie gagged at the photo, before she checked who sent you a message.

It was from the "love of your life", the message read 5 simple words: "when are you coming home?".

Ellie scoffed when she saw the text.

Is he really this fucking clingy?

Ellie replied "no! Sorry baby, I'm staying over at a friends house!"

Josh didn't even ask who. All he did was left you on seen.

Wow.

'Fucking nonchalant bitch' Ellie thought to herself.

She put your back onto the side of your bed as she lay down to face you. Ellie gently brought her hand up to remove the hair from your face.

Was this going to be it? Were you going to lie to your family your whole life?

Ellie didn't know the answers to these questions. And she knew even if she asked you, you would always reply with "I don't know Ellie" or "I don't want to think about it".

What happens if your affair gets exposed? Do you guys get to live a happily ever after?

In the past, before Josh was even in the picture, you and Ellie faced this same issue.

The two of you were madly in love but you could never be together. Everything you did was in secret.

Ellie liked to imagine that the reason why she never asked you out was because she could never stay committed to one person.

Back in college, Ellie remembered how'd she'd bring a different girl back to her dorm almost every night. But as soon as the sun rises she'd chase the girl out and she'd end up going to your dorm to cuddle.

She would always assure herself, that the reason she never told you back then was because she thought she would cheat on you. Like she did in all her previous relationships. But she knew that was a lie.

She'd been in love with you since the sixth grade, she was just in denial of her sexuality and she was terrified of your parents.

Ellie continued to stare at your sleeping face, as the light from the moon shown in.

If only she knew the situation the two of you would be in now, then she would've fought harder for you back then.

You should see their face when they finally realize

That she plays with the boys

But she comes onto me

Wanna change her mind but I get unwise

'Cause she might be your girl

But she's calling me daddy

You always knew you liked girls. Ever since you were a little girl. Your parents believed that only man and women could fall in love with eachother. You couldn't tell utter the word "gay" infront of them.

How were you supposed to live a lie? How were you supposed to pretend?

You fell in love with Ellie when you were 15.

The day the two of you lay on picnic blanket eating dry pieces of bread because Ellie forgot to bring toppings. You remembered you told her a stupid knock knock joke and Ellie laughed at it.

She always laughed at everything you said. Even when it wasn't funny. You looked at her that day, as tears fell from her eyes at the amount of laughing she did.

You realize you liked her a little more as a friend.

In a gay way.

When you were 17 Ellie kissed you.

And god you thought it was magical.

It felt like fireworks exploding. The world around the two of you blur as your lips passionately danced together. It felt like how all the romance novels described it.

You knew since that day, since that kiss, that what you and Ellie had was real.

The two of you started dating soon after.

Your biggest fear was that your parents would've found out. You'd be sent to boarding school, Ellie would be taken away from you and you'd be treated like shit for loving someone.

Unfortunately your worst fears soon became a reality.

Your mother had walked in while you and Ellie shared a quick kiss, and all hell broke loose.

Your mother ran in yelling, pulling you away from Ellie.

She blamed Ellie for making you this way. She used to say Ellie brainwashed you. But if only she knew. If only she believed you when you told her, this was love.

Your mother held you in her arms, as you reached out for Ellie. And soon after that, Ellie was kicked out and banned to come to your house or anywhere near you.

You were sent to boarding school and for the rest of your life your parents made you feel like shit, they made you feel worthless because of your sexuality till Josh came along.

The only reason you agreed to even consider getting married to him was so that your parents thought that you would be "healed".

After you were sent to boarding school you lost contact with the women you loved. All the men you've been with never compared to Ellie.

And even when the two of you reunited, you both knew your story wasn't over.

The love you shared was stronger than anything.

And as you stood infront of the mirror, wearing your wedding gown, all you could do was imagine that Ellie was the one waiting for you and not Josh.

In the mess

She's responsible

Change her mind

It's impossible

Close your mouth

You, catch a fire

Watch the girl get

What she likes

Ellie stood up as the wedding music started playing.

The crowd erupted in cheers as you walked down the isle.

Ellie looked toward your husband to be, the grin on his face made her sick. She wanted nothing more than to get a chair and to hit him in the face.

Ellie watched as your father left you with your husband. That should be her standing there. Not Josh. You should be the one walking to her, she should be the one you wore that dress for.

But yet you stayed true to your parents and you chose to walk down the isle to get married to someone you felt nothing for.

She watched as she fake smiled, she watched as you said I do and as you said your vows.

"You are mine for a lifetime" Josh spoke as he finished his vows. No you weren't. You weren't his.

She watched the lips that she has kissed so many times kiss another person. The pit Ellie felt in her stomach grew heavier, it felt like she could vomit at any moment.

The second you and your husbands lips touched the crowd cheered and screamed. Chants of your new surname filled the room as you locked hands and faced the crowd with your new husband.

A smile spread across your beautiful face, as the two of you started exiting the church.

You and Ellie locked eyes, as you made your way out of church. You gave her a small wink. A smile spread onto Ellies face.

That wink gave her hope.

Just because you got married doesn't mean you have to stop seeing eachother.

You've always been hers.

You don't need a ring to prove it. You don't need a wedding to prove your love for eachother.

Even though you were married Ellie had nothing to worry about, because she knew at the end of the day you'd be calling her daddy.

Authors note: a less depressing one for the first time in a while lmfao, but don't worry your regular scheduled angst will return in my next post;).... remember you are loved and to always be kind, my requests are also always open. I love you all!

Yours truly,

Zia <3

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samsalami66 · 10 months

Text

Here we go again with a fun little drabble, this time for a spontaneous Knight!Hob and Prince!Dream au (which will probably get a few more additions lmao). It all started with my lovely @im-not-corrupted handing me the prompt "you know, it's ok if you're not ok" from this wonderful prompt list.

----

Dream ran down a corridor, his coat billowing behind him like an angry cloud of black smoke, set to destroy everything that would dare to stand between him and this God-forsaken door deep within the bowels of the castle.

Dream ran, and it was the first time Dream remembered running since his childhood years, when he had been a naught but a babe, excited to explore every nook and corner of the massive palace that he called his home. Of course the first time he was forced to engage in such physical activity in as many years, it would be Hob Gadling's fault. Because it was always Hob Gadling's fault, from the moment he stepped foot into the throne room and announced he would become Dream's personal guardian, a Knight in his name alone, loyal to none other than the Prince of the Dreaming.

What is he at fault for? a curious reader might ask, and Dream would whirl around on his heel and give a whole list of things Sir Robert Gadling could be blamed for, if only indirectly.

For the blush he forced onto Dream's pale cheeks anytime their gazes met over a particularly boring dinner with his family. Perhaps also for the way Dream's heart skipped a beat whenever Hob spoke up to the King and Queen on his behalf, a feat so terrible even the most noble of men had failed before him. Good thing Hob was no nobleman, no son of high houses nor of new money.

He was an idiot, first and foremost. A talented, quick witted and patient idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. After all, who just waltzes into a room with the King and Queen in it and promises undying loyalty to their adolescent son who no one particularly likes and expects it to simply work? And who decides to simply enter a jousting match without any former training or experience for fun?

Hob Gadling, of course, which was just one more example of things he could be blamed for.

Nil consideration for his own physical well-being.

Idiot.

Dream was about to say as much as he threw open the door to Hob's chambers, but every ill thought spent towards his Knight's stupidity was immediately dropped as Dream found him hunched over the back of his armchair, one hand clutching at his bare chest as it rose and fell in quick succession.

God's wounds, Dream had seen how Hob got shoved out of his saddle, how the lance had connected with his armor plate and sent him flying from his horse in one spectacular arch. But he never could have guessed just how bad it must have hurt, even through the steel and cloth. The bruise on Hob's chest was an angry black, his sides spotted with a deep red where his ribs were most definitely fractured.

"Hob," the name left Dream's lips like a plea, like God's name would fall from a sinner's lips who prayed for salvation. And he did pray for salvation, in a way. Not his own, but salvation from endless pain nonetheless.

The man in question looked up between sweaty brows, a pained grimace painting his usual smile an ugly gray. Dream found himself by his side faster than lightning, hands coming up to hover helplessly over Hob's chest.

Hob sighed at the concern clearly plastered into every corner of Dream's face, the way his lips tugged downwards in an obvious display of his dislike for the position he found Hob in.

"Don't you worry for me, my Lord. I'm… fine. I'm fine, I promise."

Tragically, the trustworthiness of this statement was negated by a heavy cough wrecking Hob's body, which left him groaning in pain over his injuries.

"You are not fine, Robert Gadling," Dream hissed in response, hands finally coming to a rest on Hob's back. "Which is. Alright. It is alright if you are not alright. Just, please, lay down, my friend. You must rest."

Thankfully, Hob did not fight Dream as he was pushed towards his bedroom, and neither did he when Dream gently pressed him down into the mattress with a careful hand to his shoulder. His breath was still heavy and his eyes half-lidded as he looked up at Dream, something vulnerable hidden behind the dark brown of his eyes that Dream could not quite decipher in the near darkness of the bedroom.

"Will you stay? My Lord?" Hob whispered, apparently balancing carefully between the realm of sleep and the world of the waking.

"No duty could possibly force me from your side, my half-witted Knight." Dream responded quietly, his heart warming considerably at the soft smile that crept into his friend's eyes at the endearment, before they eventually fell close and Hob got pulled into deep and restful slumber.

Dream placed a single feather-light kiss to the dark spot on Hob's chest before settling into the other side of the bed, his eyes fixed on the slowing rise and fall of Hob's breast.

Hob Gadling really was an idiot.

Dream's idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.

#dreamling #the sandman #hob gadling #hob is an idiot #dream is worried TM #knight!hob #prince!dream #salamiwrites #he is not fine.#royal au

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gojoidyll · 24 days

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I was wondering...Aventurine's s/o who sometimes is misgendered as a man (fem! reader)

Any thoughts? 👀

I have many thoughts about this anon, some I would definitely like to share 🤭

Let's see, to me, if you're being misgendered and Aventurine just so happens to see it, then I can see it happening in the workplace, at the casino, or on a date.

But mostly at the workplace because lets face it, the IPC haven't exactly been painting themselves as the good guys lately 😐 and I can see a few of your coworkers being this way (be it new employees who do it by accident or stubborn old ones who are just plain rude).

"You should go ask him. He knows a lot about the subject and could help out with the project."

You weren't far away from the people who were having the conversation since you all were in the same office, and since it was such a small office housing only seven or so desks, it was easy to hear every single conversation and know who was talking about who.

"Thank you, I will!"

You didn't want to turn away from your computer despite the heavy thumps of footsteps coming up behind you. Instead, you tried to ignore it and continue typing away at your report. Your eyes heavy and focused on the computer as your fingers mercilessly hit the innocent keys.

"Sir? Excuse me, sir?"

You resisted the urge to groan aloud. This always happens. Mainly for two reasons. One, the stubborn fool who keeps misgendering you refuses to acknowledge that you're a woman. And two, the same stubborn fool insists to new employees of the IPC that you're a man and should be referred to as such.

And with a final tap on your shoulder, you sighed. Your feet planted on the ground as you swiveled your chair around.

"That's ma'am to you."

The new recruit was quick to fumble and bowed, "I'm sorry, ma'am! I was told that you could help me with- blah blah blah blah blah," you couldn't care about what he was saying. Not when your alarm went off, signaling your lunch break.

"Sounds interesting newbie, but if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lunch."

You didn't let the new employee get another word in as you got up and did a little stretch before walking out of the office while also being sure to ignore the smug looking bastard who waved at you while you left. Working in such a place exhausted you, and you hoped to hide your tiredness when you met up with the one person who made it all worth it. But...he noticed immediately the moment you sat down in his comfy couch in his own personal office.

He was already beside you when you sat down, and instead of grabbing his own food, his mesmerizing eyes bore into you.

"What's wrong?"

His voice always sounded tender when he talked with you, especially when he knows you've been having a bad day. He doesn't use his condescending voice or the voice he finely tunes to get people to like him. He is just ... being himself. Granted it's behind closed doors, but you were thankful that he didn't wear his bluff around you.

"It's...," to be honest, you've been dealing with this coworker for a long whilen now, and even though it's hurts being called something you're not, you thought you could handle it yourself. Though, lately, it's just been getting harder, "it's just this coworker of mine. He ... he keeps misgendering me. I know it sounds stupid and that I'm probably just being too sensitive but..."

"Name."

"Huh?"

"The name, give me the name of this coworker of yours," Aventurine said smoothly as he leaned into you, his arm slung around your shoulders as his fingers lightly twirled a strand of your hair between his fingertips. His warmth immediately engulfed you into a comforting embrace that you couldn't help but lean into. Despite being such a calculating person, he always had a way of disarming you and making you feel safe.

"Aven... it's nothing. I just, I just need to vent a little is all."

"Venting is great and all, but that doesn't solve the problem. Besides, who told you that you're being too sensitive anyway? Being hurt over something isn't something to be ashamed of. So, the name. Give it to me, and i can make it all better. Promise."

His tone held that usually lilt in his voice that scratched your ears just right. Honestly, he could be telling you the nightmares within a black hole, and you would be putty in his hands.

And so, with little resistance, you relinquished the name of the stubborn coworker who keeps giving you trouble. Granted, you did worry that you were getting special privileges since your boyfriend was in a higher station than you, but don't worry about that. You are Aventurine's significant other after all, there is nothing wrong with relying on him every once and awhile. ;)

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail aventurine #aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n

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