#I mean this completely genuinely I love it

[lovieku]

INTRO ⋆ 정국

you’re jeongguk’s secret santa this year, so you give him the best gift he’ll ever receive.

⋆⁺₊��. 1/6 from christmas & chill

pairing virgin!jk x fem reader

genre smut, fluff, friends to lovers, first time

warnings painfully oblivious jk, even more painfully oblivious oc, mutual pining unlike anything you’ve seen, jk being a hot nerd ceo who’s loaded rich and unaware of his potential, please imagine him as nam joohyuk in start up, oc just creaming her pants for jk, hand job, lowk strip tease, dry humping, nipple play (m&f), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, jk is so needy and impatient but also very polite, smut is kinda rushed because well… it’s his first time! sawrry! also i open gifts on xmas eve please don’t come for me and my traditions (it’s lich just because i’m impatient)

word count 8.3k

author’s note hello hello hello!!! i’m so nervy to post this because it’s what finally inaugurates c&c!!!! i hope it can be a pleasing (intro)duction to the series hehe… either way you’ll get something totally better from miss lyssa tomorrow so stay tuned Wink 🩷 luv u always

banner by the talented @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

Secret Santas have become the only way you’ve been able to deal with Christmas. When it comes to gift-giving, you’re embarrassed to admit that creativity in that department doesn’t exactly come naturally to you.

You try your best, truly. But you either end up going over budget, striving to please all your loved ones with unnecessarily expensive gifts which will only leave you with empty hands and an empty wallet, or having your brain completely stop working, if not to come up with the most basic and useless options that will get you forced smiles and polite nods in fake recognition.

It’s exhausting, demoralizing, and frankly, a recipe for holiday burnout.

So when two years ago, on the brink of giving up entirely and seriously contemplating hibernating through winter, your dear friend Jimin swooped in and suggested Secret Santa, it completely reshaped your next Christmases.

Exactly a month before Christmas Eve, you reunite over drinks and food at Jeongguk’s house to draw names. His place always ends up as the default spot for dinners, movie nights, or even football matches. Those don’t usually get the attention of everybody, especially of some of the girls, and it wouldn’t get yours either.

But you never skip game night. Correction, you never miss an excuse to be in Jeongguk’s space, even if it means sitting through 90 minutes of men chasing a ball on a screen. After all, you’re never truly paying attention, always stealing glances at the boy who seems almost even more uninterested than you.

It’s about witnessing him in his house— which, truthfully, is more of a mansion. The spacious, cozy interiors mirror a part of him that’s hard to miss: his perfectionist side, the one that likes to keep things understated but can’t help leaving subtle, telling marks of his presence on everything he touches, is woven into every corner.

Over time, you’ve naturally come to associate the place with holidays, laughter, and celebrations that fill you with a sense of belonging. Being here, surrounded by your closest friend, makes you feel profoundly grateful.

And there’s so many traces of you all, too. The faint wine stain on Jeongguk’s carpet that is only still noticeable if you squint, the one that spilled from your glass when Hoseok’s jokes had you laughing too hard; the long, slim scratch on the kitchen door, courtesy of Eunbi, who thought learning how to balance glasses on her forehead would get one of her coworkers to finally fall for her; the wobbly vase on the coffee table that was knocked over during one of Jimin’s overly enthusiastic attempts to kick a water bottle open.

Watching Jeongguk deal with the chaos you all force into his space might be another big reason why you love being here. It seems to squeeze out his most genuine reactions and quirks, and you can’t help biting your lips at those, almost pornographically so.

For someone who works so hard to appear composed, and who’s also extremely shy and reserved, Jeongguk is hilariously transparent when things don’t go his way. Brows furrowed, as if that’s where he keeps all his control. Although, no matter how flustered he gets, Jeongguk almost never gets choleric. His instinct is never to lash out but to scramble, a picture of barely contained stress insisting that everything is fine.

And the more he insists, the more you find yourself wishing it wasn’t fine. Sometimes, you want to see him lose it— especially at you.

You’ve tried, too. You’ve pushed boundaries, done little things to test the limits of his patience, all for the slim possibility of seeing him crack, just for you. But it never works. The best you get is an awkward smile, maybe a quiet laugh. It’s not nothing, but it’s not what you want, either.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this crazy about someone before. Not in the way where everything he does sends your brain spinning with possibilities. It’s maddening. His obliviousness is maddening.

Chiefly tonight, when you’re trying extra hard to keep it under control, the whole group gathering in a circle around the bowl that holds all your names, each one carefully folded into a little square, waiting to be drawn.

But when your slim fingers brush against one of the many crumpled pieces of paper and decide your fate, you send a small prayer to whoever might be listening. Please, don’t let it be Jeongguk.

It doesn’t really come off as a coherent request, especially considering how much your body has betrayed you tonight. Your thighs have been pressing together most of the evening, a subconscious reaction every time your gaze wandered — lingered — on Jeongguk’s lower half. Those low, slouchy grey sweatpants, hanging effortlessly off his narrow hips, have been the source of many inappropriate thoughts that you wish would make you grow some shame within yourself. Instead, they only make you grow hotter in your seat.

No, you would love to be Jeongguk’s Secret Santa with the blatant, embarrassingly huge crush you have on him. You think you’d be happy about it in any other universe, except this one.

Jeongguk is difficult. And not because he’s ever been argumentative, looking to start quarrels, never willing to agree or see past his nose. He’s far from those. He’s one of the easiest people to be around, rarely judgmental, even when you were drunk off your mind and you jokingly grinded on very-gay Jimin to make up for your lack of sexual activity. On those occasions, you didn't exactly see judgement in his eyes. Just reticence. Maybe. It wasn’t clear.

What is clear is that Jeongguk is incredibly particular. He’s picky about what he likes and even more so about what he doesn’t, though dislike might be too soft a word. When he hates something, it’s impossible not to know. He doesn’t even try to mask his disappointment.

It’s not malicious, of course. He’s not the type to be spiteful. It’s just how he is, an open book, his expressions giving him away without fail.

It’s one of the many reasons you love watching him, other than hoping your eyes would telepathically convey your undying desire to fuck him and cuddle him close to your chest afterwards. But most of the time, studying the shifts in his features is a way for you to decipher what he’s thinking.

And that’s why this moment feels so high-stakes. The last thing you want is to be on the receiving end of one of Jeongguk’s polite smiles or barely-there nods of acknowledgment, the kind he gives when he’s unimpressed. It would crush you, the ultimate failure in your short-lived career as a gift-giver.

It’s not just that he’s hard to please. Jeongguk is also the last person who seems to need anything. He’s loaded, his success as a game developer has afforded him a life where anything he wants is within reach. And yet, despite his wealth, there’s no arrogance about him. If you didn’t know him so well, you might think he was just another college student scraping by.

Who else but Jeon Jeongguk could walk around in a hoodie and square glasses, looking like he just rolled out of bed, while being the CEO of his own company?

But, of course, none of this is important. Because as you unfold the piece of paper in your hand, it’s there. Jeongguk.

You don’t think you enjoy Secret Santa as much anymore.

With the bowl continuing its journey around the circle, you spend the rest of the game staring holes into the back of Jeongguk’s head, desperately trying to figure out what in the world you could possibly get him. Your monthly budget feels laughable in comparison to his lifestyle, but you’re already prepared to go way over it if that’s what it takes to impress him.

You wonder if he’s as insecure as you are when he quietly unfolds the small, paper square he picked up and scans the name. His bug eyed expression doesn’t hide an evident surprise, the twitch of his eyebrows managing to conceal a possible disappointment.

For someone who’s usually so easy to read, Jeongguk seems uncharacteristically guarded in this moment, and it drives you crazy. You squint at him, frowning as you try to decipher any small detail on his face. Is he annoyed? Or worse, completely indifferent?

Either way, it doesn’t look like a positive reaction. If it ends up being you, you’ll rethink back to this moment and cry yourself to sleep.

With the first step out of the way, the night goes on following its usual rhythm. Only by the end of it, Jeongguk’s space starting to empty, you quietly help him put some order to the mess left behind by a too drunk Hoseok paired with his too drunk best friend Taehyung.

You keep yourself busy with storing some leftover food, managing to keep your tone unbothered when you ask, “Hey, Gguk. Wanna help me with the party planning this year?”

Always obliging to your every request, he only stutters slightly in his movements, the glasses he was cleaning clinking together. He clears his throat, “S—sure. I’ll help you, goldie.” The stammer doesn’t seem to be caused by any kind of hesitation, just an usual consequence to his nature. Reserved, quiet.

You nod, gulping way too loudly at the special nickname he has for you, and both of you keep your focus on your doings instead of witnessing the faint blush dusting your cheeks, “Cool. I’ll text you the details tomorrow.”

Details texted, your efforts to divert the conversation into something remotely playful failed miserably. Jeongguk is painfully formal, methodical as ever, hyper-focused on the party. When you sent him a TikTok you deemed adorable enough to nudge him toward a different matter, maybe hint at the dog being the cutest thing he’s ever seen and that you two should definitely adopt three of them and move in together, he still doesn’t get it.

gguk🤍: Oh… I asked my brother to keep Bam for Christmas Eve. I thought he would be too much of a hassle, especially with Iseul not being fond of dogs.

You had stared at the ceiling for a long moment after reading that text. Jeongguk is endearingly dense, and you don’t mind it most of the time. But it’s starting to cause quiet bursts of frustration when it comes to whatever undefined thing you two have, and what is clearly simmering for the eyes of everybody to see, except his.

You’d thought giving him his first handjob when he quietly confessed he’s never been touched, his voice a tremble in the calm aftermath of a chaotic group sleepover, would be enough to make him see. His quiet whimpers were hypnotizing calls that only you were meant to hear, and your fist pumping his girthy length with intent was speaking all you were afraid to voice.

Jeongguk came hard and unannounced all over your hand, pleasured sounds muffled in the side of your neck, and you’d assured him it was okay; he did good; that you would get something to clean him up. You didn’t sleep that night, and he didn’t either, spending the rest of it next to each other on his couch talking pointless conversation.

If that hadn’t opened his eyes, you were beginning to wonder what would.

“So… Do you have any idea what to gift your person?”

Jeongguk stirs his latte for the fourth time. You’d decided to meet at a café halfway between your cramped flat and his mansion, because it was the easiest way you managed to make your busy schedules merge.

“No, Gguk,” you acknowledge his question without meeting his eyes, focusing on the grocery list on your laptop instead.

What would? You’re starting to think subtlety isn’t cutting it. Maybe it never has. Perhaps the only way to break through that frustratingly thick skull of his is to go full throttle, strip naked right here in the middle of this café and spell it out for him.

Your eye involuntary twitches at the thought in relation to his question. Crazy Christmas gift, you reason as you stare maniacally at your bright screen. Yeah. Totally crazy.

Shaking your head, you can’t resist glancing up at him. The idea doesn’t seem so irrational anymore, not when your insides twist at the sight of his absorbed expression, his brows furrowed as he scribbles out unheard-of maths on a piece of paper to figure out group expenses.

With your chin resting in the palm of your hand, you abandon your pretense of being productive and let yourself watch him work. A teasing lilt slips into your voice as you prod him in your usual way, “Why should I believe you already don’t know who it is?”

He blinks up at you, promptly, like he always does when you speak to him, and he stumbles, “Huh— I don’t—”

“You so do. You probably already guessed it all with your nerdy brain.”

Despite looking mildly offended, his ears turn red anyway, “Nerdy brain—”

“Glasses look cute on you,” that shuts him up; his mouth, his brain. Completely unable to cater to any of their functions.

You smirk at the way he diverts his gaze, pointer finger unconsciously fixing the specs on the bridge of his nose, and you wonder how much longer it’ll take for him to notice that you don’t just go around calling everyone’s glasses cute.

Sighing, you continue, “Anyways. It’s not you.”

“W—what? Is it really not?” When he looks up at you with even wider eyes, you feel bad for lying to him but you still shake your head. He mutters, “Shoot. I was so sure I had it.”

A playful scoff escapes you, “See! You did sit in your nerdy room and tried to guess!”

“Stop calling me a nerd,” it’s a request grumbled in the most adorable way you’ve heard, and there’s no real heat behind it. Especially when he goes back to be exactly what he doesn’t want you to refer to him as, “Well, if it’s not me, it must be Taehyung.”

You pretend to busy yourself with your touchpad as you ponder on his eagerness. Then, you voice the result, “What’s the fun in knowing right now?”

Jeongguk hesitates for a moment too long before admitting, “I don’t know. I guess it makes me less anxious.”

It’s a raw kind of honesty, much like what he was painted all over with when he came from your touch, and it has you shifting your gaze back on him, now absorbed in doodling stylized portraits of Bam right next to numbers and additions.

You don’t know if it’s the hot chocolate still simmering in your tummy, the warmth from the coat laying on your legs, the café’s natural heat or Jeongguk’s proximity, but you buzz with something homely.

Ariana Grande’s version of Last Christmas replays for the third time in a row, and at this point you’re starting to believe it’s a conscious choice, but you don’t mind it.

Jeongguk belongs to the world the soft melody is building, hugged by a woolen white sweater, the wide glass window behind him giving the perfect view to a classic winter scenery, snow softly resting on any surface it finds and unconsciously bringing magic to dullness. Or maybe it’s just him adding that last bit.

You smile at his small confession, reassuring with your tone, almost drowning in the lively chatter of the place surrounding you, “You don’t have to be.”

Jeongguk only nods, tapping the pencil on his temple as he studies what he has so far with sudden doubt. He looks at your laptop, scanning the long forgotten visual board on your Pinterest, then back to his calculations.

Giving one more glance at the screen, he concludes, “By the way, I really don’t think that color would look good in my living room.”

Ugh.

You think you want to strangle him when he deflects so easily from these moments. And mostly, the burgundy he’s so easily refusing happens to be one of your favorite shades. Do your tastes ever match?

God, as much as you want him, you hope he’s not your Secret Santa.

────⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆────

Jeongguk is your Secret Santa.

And on Christmas Eve, he’s pacing the length of his living room back and forth, his socks brushing against the polished wooden floor with each step. You’re supposed to arrive any minute now to help him with the final touches before the others come for dinner, and the idea of having you here alone is enough to make his hands clammy and his thoughts stumble.

The neatly wrapped gift with its shiny red paper sits tucked under the towering Christmas tree, the one adorned in messy decor that his friends jumbled up together. The item hidden inside the bag doesn’t share his anxieties, though he suspects his downstairs neighbour might have caught on to it with the incessant pacing.

When you ring the doorbell he’s jolted out of it and, practically tripping over his own feet, he rushes to the door and yanks it open. He would have let you in just as rapidly if his brain didn’t stop short at seeing you standing there.

You’re cladded in a soft sweater that looks two sizes larger, its beige tones complimenting the warm brown of his own jumper, and your short skirt peeks out beneath its hem, edged with lace ruffles. At your feet, a pair of chestnut Uggs that he can only hope are enough to make up for the cold shivers on your bare legs. Not that he’s staring, so intently he has to gulp down an impulsive thought. No, he’s just a naturally observing guy.

And that brings him to notice that your hands are empty, save for a small purse and a bottle of wine. No bag, no box, no sign of a gift.

When his gaze flickers back to your face, your eyes are wide and darting nervously between his own, narrowed by the frown that he can’t quite hide but bug sized the moment he catches a trace of insecurity in your shaky voice, “Hi.”

It could be the cold causing the brief greeting to tremble, small snowflakes laying on your neatly styled hair, shimmering for a brief moment before melting away. It pulls him out from his unabashed study of you, and he steps aside to let you into his much warmer space.

Your vanilla scent inebriating his senses has him forgetting all about your seemingly non existent gift, and how he suddenly finds himself wishing he truly did get something messed up in his calculations, that you’re not his Secret Santa.

But you are.

Many drinks later, filling up everyone’s stomachs along with shared food and belly laughter, it’s time to exchange gifts and the expression on your face is unlikely anything he’s caught on so far.

A huge contrast to the mellow Christmas tunes indistinctly playing in the background, your eyes are impassive as you word your excuses, “I’m sorry, Gguk. I forgot your gift at home.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” he says quickly, the words spilling out with genuine ease. And it really is okay. He’s not upset— far from it. The thought of you giving him anything at all, even belatedly, is enough to make him feel content.

But now, as the group’s attention turns toward him, his heart races for an entirely different reason. His gift for you, a lavish, over-the-top gesture that far exceeds the modest budget they all agreed on, sits waiting on his lap.

When it finds a new home atop your own crossed legs, you’re eager as you rip the paper, but your eyes don’t follow your movements. Instead, you focus on the nervous boy sitting across from you, your very own Secret Santa who’s monitoring your hands for you while subtly rocking from one side to the other.

His anxiety is endearingly soft, but you can see something more to it, almost an irrational fear of tripping on the wrong step, messing up something that’s supposed to be simple.

You hear it before you see it. The whole room inhales sharply in a collective surprise, with some gasps muffled behind hands pressed to mouths. You scramble for an explanation in their expressions, jumping from one face to the other, stopping on Jeongguk’s own, gaze glued to his fidgeting fingers, head bowed down to his lap.

When you slowly look down at what’s resting on yours, you almost wheeze. If they could, your eyes would leap out of their sockets.

Your palm instinctively presses on your lips as you look between the gift and the gifter in a frantic attempt to catch any sign that this is not what it is. With the music being the only sound eerily filling the sudden silence, you add to it, even if barely, with your voice a whisper, “What is this?”

Jeongguk gulps and finally meets you, “It’s m—my gift for you.”

It’s not like you even opened it yet. But the simple sight of the box had you grasping for support. On the pale, textured surface of the square box, the unmistakable gold lettering is what’s making your orbs shake in confusion: Dior.

You trace the sign with your pointed finger, tilting your head up to look at Jeongguk through your lashes, and you don’t know how else to put it, “Ggukkie… Were you there when we set the budget?”

Jimin butts in with a scoff, “Yeah, that’s like fifteen thousand won multiplied by another fifty thousand.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know what he should say. He’s scared of the deafening silence that follows, the way Jimin’s comment seems to linger in the air, the way you seem to struggle with finding something to say in response.

He begins, tries to, “I—”

“Fuck, Gguk,” the simple sound of your words has his mind spiralling, palms clammy with doubts that question his every choice leading up to this moment, feeling foolish for even thinking this could be right, a shot worth trying. What if you think he’s showing off? Or worse, overcompensating?

But what he fails to notice is the toothy grin that follows your shameless surprise, your fingers gingerly lifting the lid of the box, and really, if only he had the courage to look up at you he’d have avoided the worries.

He misses your reaction at the reveal: the prettiest earrings sit on a soft cushion, gleaming gold with delicate CD initials and cream pearls dangling gracefully beneath them.

“These are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I love them. You didn’t have to.”

Jeongguk’s head snaps up. He meets your face painted with the most beautiful grin he’s ever seen you wear, your cheeks burning with red and your nose scrunching as you carefully slip the earrings to take a better look at them. With you, everybody else around him seems in awe, too. Their soft, endeared whispers begin to fill the earlier suffocating silence, melting into a sweetness reserved entirely for Jeongguk.

He exhales quietly, the welcomed warmth in his chest replacing the cold. He admits, no stutter, no fear, just a sheepish smile, “I wanted to.”

Jeongguk really did want to. It felt like his one shot. A desperate, last-ditch attempt at making you see him the way he’s always seen you; a declaration wrapped in gold and pearls.

He wants you to see him as more than the shy, awkward boy who stumbles over his words and blushes too easily. More than the nerd who spends too much time working on equations and codes half the world doesn’t know about. More, just to have you look at him a bit closer.

He wants to be a man, one who badly wants you, in your eyes.

They’re gleaming with adorable excitement as they flicker back to his, sheepishly accompanying your quiet request, “Can you… put them on for me?”

Jeongguk is at your side in no time, handling the earrings with care while trying to keep his usual clumsiness at bay as he fastens the dainty jewels in place. He begins to understand why it’s hard to see him as anything else but gawky when he feels his heartbeat speed up from the simple way his skin is brushing against yours.

Namjoon’s voice cuts through the spell, playful, “Oh, what a pretty princess. Jeongguk truly has an eye for this stuff.”

With the group following with chuckles and mindless banter, Jeongguk feels uncharacteristically bold, gaze fixated entirely on you as he lets himself spill something meant for you only to hear, “I think it’s just you. You’re beautiful.”

You’re clearly caught off guard, and it stings a little when he realizes the only reason he doesn’t get to see you this flustered often is because he’s usually busy being the flustered one. Blinking up at him through your lashes, your laugh comes out a little breathless, and the sweet way you let your cheek rest on your shoulder has him daring to hope.

“Nerd.”

But no. There it is again.

That’s all he’ll ever be in your eyes.

He forces a smile that barely reaches his eyes, but you’re too engrossed with having your pearls admired by the rest of the group to notice. Those weren’t a waste; he would do it all the same. You deserve everything that makes your eyes shine, that brings the corners of your lips into that grin that shakes him, that can ever bring you joy. He just wishes it could bring you more than that; bring you to a bigger sentiment, a bigger realization.

Perhaps that’s why he can’t shake off the awful mood that pervades his senses throughout the rest of the night, the earrings hanging from your ears catching the twinkly, warm lights and mocking him with delighted amusement. There’s nothing else you can do, you nerdy boy.

Perhaps that’s also why, when the house starts to empty and you’re in his kitchen making yourself helpful with dishes, he slips on composure when you accidentally let a glass slide from your dainty hands.

It breaks the moment it meets the ground, and the sound penetrates his ears, both of you jumping at the impact. He hisses, “What— what the heck, ___!”

You’re startled, blinking up at him. It’s not the chaos from the glass, not its tiny pieces covering the floor and reaching your feet. It’s the deliberate frustration of his tone, one he’s never let free, especially with you.

You pant for apologies, but they can’t seem to be let out. Wide eyes jumping between his own bug ones, your brows draw up in shame. It has never been this easy to get him bothered. Hell, you’ve even struggled to.

Jeongguk only sighs, dragging a hand across his nape, and he regrets the quiet sharpness in his voice the second he lets it out, “God. Be more careful next time.”

He’s still quicker than you on his feet, moving to sweep the mess you’ve created before you can even react. You seem to move in slow, infinite motions, kneeling down to pick up the bigger pieces, all while keeping an unusual silence.

He steals a glance up at you, biting his lower pierced lip in sudden guilt, “Are you okay?”

Your hands pause, clutching a fragment of glass as your eyes flicker up to meet his. You nod, distant, and it does nothing to convince him.

He doesn’t even seem to be paying attention to your hesitant confirmation, rather he’s hyper-focused on your fingers, and before you realize the shift in his expression, he alarmedly blurts out, “Goldie. You’re bleeding.”

The sting barely registers for you until his words bring it to your attention. Looking down, you see a sharp, red line running across your finger, small but enough to make Jeongguk spring into action.

You’re lifted off the floor and ushered to the bathroom in fractions of seconds, letting yourself be handled like you don’t own your body. The only thing you want to be aware of is the switch in his behaviour. He’s back to normal once he’s in his quiet bubble of concentration, movements precise as he cleans the barely visible wound and carefully places a band aid over it.

All while he can’t stop apologizing, “I’m sorry for yelling at you. That was not your fault. But, this. This is my fa—”

“Jeongguk, it’s just a scratch.”

The way he meets your eyes with his face drawn tight and brows furrowed makes you rethink your statement. Maybe it’s more than a scratch. Maybe it’s the only thing that snapped him out of his frustrated daze.

“It doesn’t matter. You didn’t deserve that.”

Your first instinct is to giggle; it’s a resonance of the butterflies childishly swarming in your belly from the proximity and his careful words. Both your gazes soften as you accept each other, even the faulted versions of tonight, and a timid smile stretches over his lips.

You hesitate before speaking again, your mouth opening only to close, reconsidering your words; but then you finally let out what you had foolishly planned as your next desperate attempt to cling to him.

“Can you… My car is… Can you take me home?”

What you’re now sure you like the most about Jeongguk is how he caters to your needs before you even have to voice them. The soft kindness in his eyes, the way his body instinctively shifts to act before his mind even fully processes the request. He’s already nodding, ready to make it happen for you.

“Yeah. Of course.”

The heat in his car fans over your cheeks, dusting them with a soft red that has his Adam’s apple bobbing every time he turns to steal glances at you at stoplights. You keep talking, filling the air with contentment about the night’s events, and it’s like that subtle slip of his never happened.

It’s almost too easy to surrender and pretend that everything is fine, that he doesn’t feel the ache of wanting more. If staying a nerd in your eyes means getting to be this close, to hear your laughter, to see the slight curve of your lips as you speak, then maybe it’s enough.

His subtle gestures — adjusting the temperature so you’re comfortable, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter when your giggles spill into the cabin — don’t go unnoticed. They settle into you and have your heart beating anticipatedly.

God, you won’t regret what you’re about to do.

By the time he pulls up in front of your place, you promptly turn to him before he can offer anything else, voice a bit too eager, “Would you like to come inside?”

“Huh—”

“I’ll show you my gift.”

Jeongguk sits on your couch, because you tell him to wait there. And of course, he’s a great listener. Very obedient, willing to follow your every order.

His fingertips drum restlessly on his thighs and he can only busy himself with his surroundings, every detail speaking for you. What’s definitely more prominent is the intoxicating scent of vanilla that clings in the air, of which he hopes his lungs inhale the entirety of, never getting enough of everything that is you.

When you come into his vision again, walking down the stairs in quiet steps, you’re tightly hugged in a trench coat, the textured belt cinched snugly around you and accentuating the small of your waist. Under it, your legs are bare. It has his mouth drying and his legs spreading stiffly on the couch.

He thought he got better at hiding his concerning infatuation. He hopes he did.

That’s why he initially manages to chuckle and attempt a joke, “Are you going somew—”

“Ta-da.”

Jeongguk doesn’t think he’s breathing. He doesn’t think he can even breathe anymore. His blinking fastens, brain stumbling over itself as it tries to make sense of what he’s sitting in front of.

You’ve loosened the coat just enough for the fabric to fall and reveal what you’ve carefully wrapped for him. You’re a gift coming in a red lingerie set clinging to your perfect curves, your boobs deliciously spilling out from the sides of your lace top and the line of your panties thin enough to leave little to the imagination.

He pants, scanning over your body once, twice, three times, questioning if the wine was perhaps laced with stronger substances, “What— What is this—”

“It’s my gift for you. Merry Christmas, Gguk.”

Meeting your face again, he nearly groans. You’re almost bare before him, yet you still sport a crimson blush and your teeth graze your bottom lip in a sheepish smile, in a way that is so achingly you. He can feel himself throbbing painfully in his pants. Thinks he could cum just from this view, tip over the edge without a single touch, no matter how bad he needs it.

“Fuck.”

You’ve barely ever heard Jeongguk curse throughout the time you’ve known him for. He only sometimes reserves that for his monitor, Overwatch games causing his composure to slip in adorable loud whispers.

But it’s like you’ve broken his dam, and he only lets more slip as you walk slowly but certainly closer to him, coat discarded on the floor, “Oh my, fuck. Holy shit. Thank you. Thank you. I— I don’t know what to do.”

It’s a quiet plea, the one that’s hidden in his strained words but clear in his full eyes glazed over with anticipation, his hands hovering uncertainly over his thighs, chest still heaving and struggling with manual breathing. He’s begging to feel deserving of this, to have you prove to him that it’s what you truly want for the both of you, to have you touching him and to be touching you.

He can’t help the moan that escapes him when you position yourself in between his spread legs, bodies close yet not touching, but he’s dying to feel you.

Now your turn to bend at his every request, your head tilts and your smile widens the more he’s forced to crane his neck up to keep your gazes connected, pending off your every syllable, “You don’t have to do anything. Will you let me take care of you?

“Yes, please,” the confirmation is immediate and empty of hesitance. Under you, Jeongguk nods promptly with his lips agape, watering with want when you straddle his lap to sit yourself on him.

He wails, throwing his head back and searching for all the strength it takes from holding back his instinct to snap up against your core, snuggled atop his raging hardness. At his shameless desperation, your giggles fill his ears, and when they’re followed by your cold hand on his cheek redirecting his gaze on yours, he feels feverish.

Delirious, eyes barely keeping from rolling back, his brain reduced to senseless blabbering, “My God. Thank you for this.”

With his brows adorably drawn up, he focuses on your dilated pupils now that your faces are mere centimetres apart, and you close the distance with small pecks that trace his jaw, up to his ear lobe, whispering against the skin, “Are you seriously thanking God while I’m about to take your virginity?

Jeongguk hisses in a frenzied surge, his hands still unsurely keeping from touching you, and your sarcastic pun has him full on rambling, “Shit, sorry. I don’t even believe in God. This just feels too good to be true. You look like a fucking angel.”

“Ggukkie, language!” Your seductive tone along with your chuckle reverberates right against his chest, your hands moving to lead your own palms up and down his broad front, and when you subtly roll your hips against his clothed length, he breaks into a cry.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’ll come so soon,” you don’t know if it’s the adrenaline of the moment, but you’ve never witnessed such a bold Jeongguk. It only spurs you further, your hand traveling down, and down, until it sneaks under his sweater.

When you find his nipple, you playfully roll it between your pointer and thumb, his trembling body bucking up in an unstoppable urge, quiet whimpers working to keep his tone down. But you want to hear him scream under you, just as loud as you can feel his heart beating.

You bite your lip as your eyes drift downward, watching where your bodies meet in slow, teasing drags. His wide palms press into the cushions on either side of you, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip, and when you lift your gaze to meet his face again the delicious buzz pooling low in your stomach intensifies, your lips parting instinctively. A pretty blush creeps up his neck, painting his sharp jaw and cheekbones in shades of red, and his eyes, clouded, desperate, and burning with unfiltered need, lock onto you with a gaze that makes your knees weak even as you straddle him.

The simple grinding through the layers of clothing you still have on has you releasing whiny gasps in the air, his cock sliding torturously between your folds, and if you’re so affected by every shift you can hardly fathom what he must be feeling under you.

So you wonder out loud, voice rough the more you feel his stiff nipple under your fingertips, “How long since you’ve been touched properly, hm?”

His body hiccups, shaking with the barely contained lust, “Since— Since you last did, goldie.”

You coo, slowing down your movements and bringing your fingers to the hem of his jumper only to lift it and toss it behind you carelessly, “You’re so sensitive, aren't you?” At the view of his exposed chest, you can’t help roaming the expanse of it and feeling the tensing muscles under your skin, and by now you’re sure your panties must be ruined.

“Puh— please,” the plea is barely coherent, whispered out messily through high-pitched moans, but he begs again, “I wanna touch you too.”

“Then…” You let your hands speak for you, moving them to lead his own big ones to rest at your thighs, letting them drag up the curve of your ass. You’re impossibly close to his lips now, fanning against them, “Feel me, Gguk.”

Unable to resist, you fall forward and catch his mouth with yours in a kiss that struggles to find a rhythm, that has your tongues tangled in an uncoordinated dance, but that inevitably has you both humming loudly in an effort to almost devour each other, and his hands digging in your bare skin only force a gasp out of you.

In an impatient rush, you urge him to unclasp your bra, his unpractised and shaky fingers being joined by your experienced ones to finally free you from the tight confines, and as much as he wants to make kissing you a sport just to win every gold medal and break record after record, he can’t help separating from your lips with a wet sound to look down at your exposed breasts.

Jeongguk groans, and this time he doesn’t need you guiding him. It’s his own palms moving to cup you, and the innocent, light feather touch causes you to throw your head back and resume your slow grinding on top of him.

Both of you are panting messes, his moans significantly louder the more he gets to knead at your softness only to slice his thumb over your hardened nipples, the contrast making his brows furrow in hazed need, and when you arch your back into him he squeezes your tit to his mouth, eliciting a surprised wail from you.

Even when he gets closer, your sensitive nub engulfed by his swollen lips, he keeps looking up at you for approval with wide, teary eyes that beg for you to praise him. And with a hand gripping his wavy locks, you nod repeatedly for him to keep going, “Fuck, baby. Just like that, oh my God.”

He hums lowly with his mouth stuffed, his fingers digging in your flesh the more you drag your cunt mercilessly over the outline of his thickness, and he has to release you with a pop and rest his head on the couch behind him, palms keeping you somewhat still by the waist, panting out a desperate request when he feels himself throb dangerously close to his high, “G—Goldie, I can’t. Don’t— Don’t wanna cum like this.”

You lift your hips just enough for the both of you to whimper at the loss of friction, and you murmur through a string of kisses along his exposed neck, “How do you want to cum then, huh?”

He only whines, cheeks flushed with want and eyes glossy, forehead creasing with the way his brows are stressing, “Please.”

You show no mercy, flashing him with a wicked smirk and a teasing tilt of your head, “Ah-ah. Say it.”

Gulping with effort, his waist twitches up unconsciously to seek for your touch once again, and with his face turned to the side he admits in the smallest voice, “‘Nside of you.”

“Good boy. Gonna give you exactly what you want.”

He voices a loud cry just from the sound of your promise, only echoing more intensely when you hastily work at his zipper. It’s messy, uncertain, and it elicits breathy giggles from the two of you, drunk on adoration and high on desire.

Eventually, he’s stripped free from his confines, and his cock stands proud and hard, veins pumping the blood that has it throbbing against his toned stomach.

Jeongguk can feel your hooded eyes on him, can sense his tip wettening with the simple way you seem starved and eager to taste him, your hand coming too close to where he needs you the most before he gently grabs your wrist to stop it.

Automatically, your head snaps up, and the look on his face is one of nervous desperation, “Wan’ you to kiss me, please.”

You’re ready to comply to his every demand, and this one is as easy as it gets. You want to give him everything— whatever he wants, however he wants it.

Your lips mold with his in worldless acceptance, absorbing all you were afraid to voice to each other, making up for all the time you wasted, devoting to a sealed promise, the one that dances between your connected tongues, saliva making it wet and breathless.

Even more when your slim fingers trail down his torso before wrapping around his length, your wrist expertly flicking in a teasing touch, and his moan is unrestrained as it tears through the kiss. You swallow the sound greedily, steadying you against his chest rising and falling in frantic pants.

Before he can protest, his own hips bucking up in a silent beg for more, you steal the air from his lungs when you move your panties to the side and align your entrance with his tip, just to sink down on it.

The drag is slow and it has both of your eyes rolling back, pleased groans filling the air and straining against your throat when you fully sit yourself wrapped around his dick. You search for him, “You okay?”

“Shit,” Jeongguk seems hypnotised by the view of his thickness wrecking you in half, and his palms come to rest at your waist where his fingers dig into the skin. Your own playing with the hair on his nape only seem to make him more vulnerable, “This is perfect. You feel so good and warm, fuck.”

You’re not used to hearing him curse so openly and so often, and it naturally makes you giggle, the sound tickling his ears and leading his dilated pupils to look up at you through his lashes. Your sweet laughter fades into a lasting smile, one he can’t help but kiss, even if it’s all teeth, the contagious sight of your happiness getting to him too.

The moment is sickeningly sweet, bodies connected in more ways than one. With your kiss only deepening and your chest melting against his, you pull him impossibly closer by the back of his neck and start attempting slow motions on top of him.

You hear him through his thundering heartbeat, “Goldie… I— I don’t think I can last any longer, I’m so sorry, I—”

“Oh, shit, baby,” one particular shift has his length, deeply stuffed in your tight walls, finding your spot and teasing it with an electric buzz that travels through your body, “It’s okay. I’m so close too.”

The moment you try a firmier bounce and feel him find you again, you can’t help the way your movements fasten, your moans thick and low against your throat, his own louder and ricocheting through the walls.

You steady yourself with one of you palms on his thigh, leaning your weight back and finding a new angle to fuck yourself on him. He watches in awe as you work your fingers on your clit, rapid circling movements causing his mouth to hang open at the squelching sounds.

He pants, his wide hands guiding your riding, pushing you up and down, “Can— Can I touch you?”

You hum, but it sounds more like a whine, “Hm, of course, pretty boy,” the hand that was stimulating your sensitive nub now comes behind you to help support yourself on both of his muscular thighs, flexing under every shift.

Jeongguk is unpracticed as he leads his thumb to rest at your clit, applying a soft pressure and mimicking the same pattern he observed from you. He only seems to be focusing on his doing for the first few moments before he searches up for the reaction on your face, and he whimpers when he finds your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, your brows drawn up in pleasure.

You smile at the unconscious twitch of his chin, and give him just what you know he wants, “Always seeking my approval. You’re so good.”

The simple praise only has him working on you with more confidence, collecting some of your wetness and sliding it up along your lips. He learns fast, listening to your every sound and centering on your pleasure, as best as he can with his own knot getting closer to bursting.

You’re clearly affected by the simulations, your hips stuttering and riding around him, but you still make sure to concentrate on him first, “I’ll tell you when to cum, hm? You’ll listen to me, right?”

Jeongguk nods before he even knows what he’s agreeing to, “Y—yes. Yes, yes, fuck. I’ll be good. Wanna be so, so good for you. Wanna c—cum for you.”

“You’re so filthy, baby. Naughty boy. Fuck me.”

His hips meet you up with harsh thrusts that have you lose your balance on him, and you can only throw yourself with your arms around his broad shoulders, face hidden in the crook of his neck as he lets his desire take over, fucking up into you with a desperate need for release.

You think you see stars with the way he relentlessly pounds your hole, wet folds sliding along his length and causing a mess between you, his own slickness mixed with yours trailing down and pooling at the base. The sounds are inglorious, and they merge perfectly with your wails.

Breathing in his scent, you know he’s close from the way his thrusts are stammering sloppily, and his moans are closer to strained whines. You concede, “F—Fucking cum, Gguk. Cum inside me, fuck.”

He nods, slamming you down to meet his movements, desperate to feel you before he can stop himself, “Cum with me, pleas— Oh.”

When your walls spasm around him with your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, causing you to shake in his embrace around you, he feels himself cum unannounced, hard and thick, sprouts of white liquid relentlessly pumping inside your warmth.

You milk him dry, both your wails drained with the effort and fading into breathless gasps, his arms around you falling limply at his sides. You’re sprawled on his chest, emptied from any energy, and he is just as spent with his head lolling against the back of the couch.

But you feel it in your heartbeats syncing, the realization of what happened, what finally happened. You feel it in his face moving down to find your lips and catch them in a sweet peck, his fingers trailing up again to trace lazy patterns on your back before tangling in your hair, grounding himself in you.

It’s your own smiles breaking through the kiss, lashes tickling, and both of you laugh senselessly as you come down from the moment.

“Fuck,” Jeongguk breathes out, voice raspy, “This was the best Christmas gift ever.”

You snicker, biting your lip to hold back your amusement, “Oh, baby. It was just an excuse to fuck you. I actually did forget your gift at home.”

“W—What?” His brows shoot up, his post-orgasm haze momentarily replaced with incredulity as his cheeks redden even more.

When Jeongguk straightens on the couch, so do you, steadying your weak frame with your hands splayed against his chest. Sheepishly, you confess, “Yeah. Bought you that Mario game yo—“

“Princess Peach: Showtime?”

“Yea—”

Jeongguk gasps dramatically, his excitement so pure it’s almost jarring considering what just transpired, and that he’s no longer a virgin, “God, I fucking love— that game. That is the best Christmas gift ever.”

You can’t hold back your laughter this time, shaking your head at how easily he slips back into his usual self, the one that had you buying a Victoria’s Secret set in that shade of burgundy he said he didn’t like just to attempt a crazy chance at having him.

Leaning forward, you press a lingering kiss to his lips that brings you back to the realization that you finally did get to have him, before murmuring against them, “Well, that and a second round. What do you say?”

“Please.”

[daikaiju-arts]

Hi! First, love your IRL Au. It's fantastic, and I'm watching every day for more! I'm just wondering, because in your art this isn't obvious: Do they, at any point during the circus, realise that their fellow 'performers' are actually their friends from the real world? I mean, they do look completely different, and they don't have their names, and there seems to be some kind of unwritten rule among the cast that you don't really talk much about your pre-circus life or something? So, it's possible they don't realise until after they leave. Or, if they do realise in the cirucs, when? And how do they react?

AH THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥺 I’m genuinely really flattered you like my goofy lil au, it really means a lot!

Also I do have a theory that I’m applying to my Irl Au, where in the Digital Circus you forget everyone’s names from the real world, but, most scarily, their identities as well. Like if you’re recalling someone while in the circus, you DO remember them, but you only recall certain actions of effects they had on you.

Like, Pomni (in the Irl au) does remember having two friends before entering the circus, but doesn’t know what they looked or sounded like, nor their names or interests. She really can only say that… well, they were friends, and she can recall vague things of what they did together but otherwise it’s a blur. Pomni sees Gangle and Zooble and does experience moments of “This person makes me think of someone…” though.

It’s like trying to remember a dream a few hours after waking up!

[cozycottagetarot]

The Little Things That Drive Them Wild

Notes: I've been working on this all week, I'm depressed and on top of that burnt out and exhausted soooo sorry if I missed any mistakes!

💄 Reading Contents:

How Do You Unintentionally Captivate Them?

The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic

Your Everyday Charm

💋 Patreon Extended:

Moments When They Feel Weak for You

Their Favorite “Caught in the Act” Moments

How They Fantasize About Responding

This reading is for entertainment purposes only! Take only what resonates be it all, some or none! ✨

LINKS: Reading Masterlist | Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Patreon Masterlist | Paid Readings | Paid Readings - $10 and Under - PLEASE DM ME ABOUT READINGS

PILE 1

How Do You Unintentionally Captivate Them?

Cards: Page of Cups, Two of Wands, Sun,

For some reason, the first thing that comes to mind is someone caught mid-thought, their eyes kind of distant but soft, lost in a dream or musing about something exciting. There’s something so captivating about when you slip into those moments. It’s like you radiate this quiet, hopeful energy that makes your person wonder what’s going on in that mind of yours. To them, it's irresistible.

You also have this undeniable joy exuding from you. The kind that can infects others without them even noticing. When you’re fully in the moment, letting this joy pour out of you, it’s like the world around you disappears for your person. They’re completely pulled in without you even trying.

I also keep getting this image of you smiling—a genuine, effortless kind of smile—and your person being absolutely smitten. You seem to have this way of lighting up when you’re excited or happy, and it’s almost like they can’t help but feel it, too.

The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic

Cards: Knight of Swords, Death, Seven of Wands

The first thing that stands out is your ambition and drive—you don’t hesitate to charge forward when you’ve set your sights on something, and your person finds that magnetic. And it’s not just that you’re ambitious; it’s the way you act on it. You seek out transformation and change with a sense of confidence and purpose. There’s something so inspiring to your person about the way you embrace growth, even when it means taking risks or stepping into the unknown.

I also get that your fierceness is a big part of what draws them in. I feel like you don’t back down when it comes to defending what you believe in. Even in moments where you might not be 100% correct, the passion you bring when it comes to standing your ground is something your person finds strangely endearing. Part of what draws your person to you is that spitfire energy and the way you throw your whole heart into what you care about.

But you also have a softer energy that balances everything out. You’re someone who's generous and compassionate, maybe even without a second thought. You're the type of person who would stop everything to help an injured animal or lend a hand to someone in need without a second thought. It’s that blend of intensity and gentleness that makes keeps the hooked. Your person loves how multi-dimensional you are—someone who can fight for their beliefs one moment and show deep compassion the next.

Your Everyday Charm

Cards: Five of Cups, Five of Wands, Wheel of Fortune, Ace of Cups

There’s something about you that comes across as a bit mysterious... I feel like in quieter moments when you’re lost in thought or just keeping to yourself, your person may feel like they take the time to really see you. What I mean by this is the little details about you such as the way your features soften when you’re deep in your own world.

I don’t know if you’re someone who fidgets or has a habit of touching things, but it feels like they notice those small quirks. Maybe it’s the way you twirl your hair, tap your fingers, or run your hand over a textured surface— but whatever it is, it’s something they can’t help but find endearing. I'm also getting that in moments where you’re being challenged by others, you may observe before reacting. If they're with you, it’s like they can see the gears turning in your head. They love watching you process things, almost like they’re trying to understand your inner workings of your mind.

There’s also this magical quality about you, like you have this ability to make life feel filled with magic in the simplest of ways. You might not even realize it, but somehow you make them feel like they’re living in a dream. There’s a sweetness to the way you show care, whether it’s through small, everyday gestures or moments where you’re pouring into your person or your relationship. Even mundane things—like making them a cup of coffee, fixing their hair, or just sitting next to them—feel enchanted for your person.

💋 Discover what makes them weak for you, their favorite “Caught in the Act” moments, and how they fantasize about responding (not a spicy reading). Plus, unlock exclusive extended readings for all my other PACs when you join The Cozy Corner for just $1.50 USD (and up). Check it out here.✨

PILE 2

How Do You Unintentionally Captivate Them?

Cards: Five of Wands, Three of Cups, Death

The first thing that comes to mind is your ability to adapt effortlessly to different environments and social circles. It’s like you could seamlessly blend into one group today and an entirely opposite group tomorrow, without missing a beat. This could stem from a survival mechanism you developed throughout your life, but it’s become second nature—a part of who you are. Your ability to navigate these social dynamics with ease is likely something your person finds captivating.

There’s also a strong sense of resilience about you. The way you handle conflict or challenging situations seems graceful, almost effortless, even when the odds are stacked against you. Your person might be struck by how you manage to remain composed under pressure and spin difficult moments into opportunities for growth. They might admire the way you emerge from the other side of hardship renewed, stronger, and ready to embrace what’s next.

Beyond that, there’s a warm, supportive energy radiating from you. Whether you’re celebrating with others or offering comfort, you seem to have a knack for making people feel at ease. I also get a sense of enchantment from these cards, almost as if there’s a spark of magic in how you carry yourself. For some reason, Tinker Bell comes to mind—maybe it’s a reminder of your playful, whimsical side or your ability to light up a room in unexpected ways. Maybe it's a confirmation for something you've been pondering on for a bit.

The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic Cards: Seven of Cups (Reversed), Page of Pentacles, The Emperor

You give off an energy of someone who is grounded, decisive, and incredibly self-assured. You have an ability to cut through the noise (of life really). While others might get lost in daydreams or overwhelmed by choices, you’re someone who sees clearly and knows exactly what you want. Your person could likely find this decisiveness magnetic, as it exudes a quiet confidence that feels stable and dependable.

I think you also bring a unique blend of practicality and creativity to the table. You’re someone who can take even the smallest spark of an idea and nurture it into something tangible. You have the focus and drive to bring dreams to life, and that’s an inspiring quality. It’s like you’re the one people look to when they need a plan or want to see something through. You come across as someone who knows how to take charge and create stability, whether in your own life or for those around you. Your person might admire how dependable you are, someone they (and others) can rely on for solid advice or a calm presence in chaotic times. I also feel like you're someone who puts the time and effort in and that's something that just does it for your person.

Your Everyday Charm Cards: Wheel of Fortune, The World, Five of Pentacles

There’s something charming about how you carry yourself through life’s ups and downs and not just the significant moments but the little ones too. Like missing a bus, running late for work, running out of something when you need it (I hope you get the gist lol). I also feel like your person sees beauty not just in your appearance (although that's emphasized as well) but in the way you quietly navigate the dull moments and short term disappointments we experience. You have a way of picking yourself up and boosting your spirit that is endearing. On a daily level, it might be the little things you do to create beauty in your life, no matter the circumstances. Think how you decorate your spaces, plate your food, cultivate a cozy moment.

Your person really admire how you’re able to turn the simplest things into something special, creating a life that feels fulfilling and intentional even when resources are limited. You don’t need the latest trends or expensive items—you can take something as humble as a few old books or scraps and turn them into something that feels genuinely valuable.

Your person notices the way you focus on making things better, no matter the circumstances, and finds it charming and hard to ignore.

💋 Discover what makes them weak for you, their favorite “Caught in the Act” moments, and how they fantasize about responding (not a spicy reading). Plus, unlock exclusive extended readings for all my other PACs when you join The Cozy Corner for just $1.50 USD (and up). Check it out here.✨

Pile 3

How You Unintentionally Captivate Them

Cards: Death, Judgement. The Emperor, The Hierophant 

It’s not just one thing—it’s everything about you that pulls them in without you even realizing it. There’s this grounded, unshakeable energy you carry, but it’s wrapped in a quiet elegance that feels so effortless. It’s not about trying to stand out; you just do. The way you move through life—intentional, steady, and composed—creates a presence that people can’t help but notice. Even in chaos, you somehow stay calm, like you’re the eye of the storm.

What really gets them is how deeply you focus on what’s in front of you. It’s like the world blurs around you, and you’re completely in your element. Whether it’s the way your hands move when you’re busy, the calm in your voice when you’re speaking, or the determination in your eyes when you’re locked into something—it’s magnetic. They can’t look away.

It’s in the small, subtle things, too. The way you pay attention to details, how you seem to elevate even the simplest moments, or that quiet confidence you have without even trying. Maybe it’s the way you smile, how kind you are in little ways, or the natural grace you bring into every interaction. It feels like you make life more beautiful just by being in it.

There’s this perfect balance between your strength and your calmness that they can’t get enough of. You’re firm but approachable, confident but kind, and it’s just captivating. They admire how you move through life and how you make them feel just by being yourself.

The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic

Cards: Four of Cups, Eight of Wands, Queen of Wands, Strength

Your person is attracted to how intentional you are about what you let into your world. You don’t say “yes” just to go along with things or settle for something that doesn’t feel right. Your discerning nature makes you stand out and pulls them in.

There’s also the way you move through life with an air of purpose, momentum, and confidence. You don’t linger too long in “what ifs” or overthinking; you simply trust yourself to make the right call and go for it. It makes watching you in action thrilling for your person as you bring this bright, unstoppable energy wherever you go. You’re bold, and you own it, but it never feels forced. It’s just you, shining naturally.

I do think that what makes you really magnetic to your person is how you balance your boldness with gentleness. Beneath all you passion and creativity, there’s a softness that makes people feel safe and seen. It’s in the way you treat others with kindness and show care without making a big deal about it. Even when you’re chasing your passions, you always seem to carry this warmth and thoughtfulness.

Your Everyday Charm 

Cards: Wheel of Fortune, Justice, Nine of Pentacles

Somehow, you manage to make the simplest moments feel special, like everything you touch has a hint of magic to it. Even the way you go about your routine feels intentional, like you’re crafting a life that’s all your own.

I know I keep saying it, but the balance you keep on a daily basis charms your person. You’ve got this knack for keeping things in harmony, be it work, downtime, or fun, and on top of that you make it look so natural. It’s not about chasing perfection either, you just do what works for you. I think your person admires this so much.

I think you also manage to genuinely enjoy your everyday life and your person loves that about you. You don’t wait for big moments to feel happy—you find joy in the small stuff. Whether it’s sipping your favorite tea, throwing on an outfit that makes you feel amazing, or stopping to notice something beautiful, you have this way of savoring life that’s so refreshing.

💋 Discover what makes them weak for you, their favorite “Caught in the Act” moments, and how they fantasize about responding (not a spicy reading). Plus, unlock exclusive extended readings for all my other PACs when you join The Cozy Corner for just $1.50 USD (and up). Check it out here.✨

[tinytinyblogs]

Does My Shirt Smell?

Prank them by asking them to smell your shirt, only to lean in and kiss their forehead instead—then watch their reaction!

Hyung line, Maknae line

Stray Kids Masterlist 1.0 & 2.0

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Han

Han couldn't suppress the shy smile creeping across his face as your lips brushed against his forehead. The warmth lingered, and for a moment, he froze, his thoughts spiraling into the meaning behind your sudden gesture. When he realized you’d asked him that question just to prank him, a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Ah, you're playing dirty," he muttered, turning his head to the side in a futile attempt to hide his amusement. His heart betrayed him, though, as his lips stretched into a wide, helpless grin. He tried to keep his composure, but it was no use. You had a way of breaking down his walls effortlessly. With a deep breath, he turned back to you, his gaze now filled with both adoration and mischief. Slowly, he reached out, his hand finding its place on your waist, pulling you closer until the space between you was nearly nonexistent. "What should I do with you?" he murmured, his voice low but tinged with affection. His eyes searched yours, a mix of playful exasperation and undeniable tenderness reflecting in them. "You're too adorable and lovable for your own good," he added with a slight shake of his head, as though scolding you for the effect you had on him. Yet, the corners of his mouth betrayed him, curling into another smile.

As his fingers gently caressed your cheek, his touch was featherlight, as though afraid you might disappear if he wasn’t careful. The moment felt suspended in time, his focus entirely on you. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, mirroring the one you’d given him earlier. It was slow and deliberate, his way of savoring the fleeting intimacy of the moment. "You make me fall for you even more every single day," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a vulnerability in his tone that he rarely let show, and it made his words hit even harder. "It’s bad, you know," he continued, his thumb brushing against your cheek as his eyes held yours. "Now I can’t let you go." His arms tightened slightly around your waist, grounding himself in the reality that you were right here, with him. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in this bubble of shared warmth and affection. "What am I going to do with you?" he asked again, his voice soft, almost as if he were asking himself. You laughed lightly, the sound melting into the air between you, and Han couldn’t help but smile in return. "I guess I’ll just have to keep falling," he said at last, his voice filled with a mix of resignation and joy. "Every day, over and over, for you."

Felix

The moment you asked Felix if your shirt smelled bad, he didn’t think twice. He genuinely wanted to help and leaned in closer without hesitation, his brows knitting slightly as he focused on checking. His movements were thoughtful, his nose hovering near your shoulder. Just as he began to take a whiff, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Felix froze for a brief moment, caught completely off guard by your sudden gesture. Slowly, he tilted his head up, his eyes meeting yours with an expression that was equal parts amused and surprised. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head lightly. "Okay… you got me," he said, his voice laced with a playful tone. But instead of pulling away or calling you out further, he did something unexpected—he leaned back in to continue his "inspection." His lips quirked into a small smile as he sniffed your shirt one more time, his actions now slower, more deliberate, and clearly meant to tease you back. "It doesn’t smell bad, darling," he finally said, his voice warm and filled with affection.

Felix straightened up, crossing his arms as he gave you a knowing look. His soft, freckled face lit up with a grin that was impossible to resist. "You know," he began, tilting his head slightly, "you didn’t have to pull a trick just to kiss me. You could’ve just asked, and I’d have gladly let you." His words were teasing, but there was a tender sincerity behind them that made your heart flutter. He stepped a little closer, his hand brushing against your arm as he gazed at you with that familiar mix of warmth and mischief. "Still, I’ll admit that was a pretty smooth move," he added with a small laugh, his dimples deepening as his smile grew wider. Leaning in, Felix placed a gentle kiss on your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to make your heart skip a beat. "Next time, just tell me what you want, yeah?" he murmured softly, his voice carrying a playful edge that made you laugh in return. As the two of you stood there, sharing quiet laughter and stolen glances, Felix’s presence wrapped around you like a warm hug—effortless and full of love.

Seungmin

It’s not like he’d fall for a trick that easily. When you first asked that question, his eyebrows shot up in mild confusion. "Why are you even asking? You normally never smell bad," he replied, his tone laced with skepticism. Shrugging it off, he returned to what he was doing, clearly unbothered. But when you asked again—and then maybe even a third time—his interest was piqued. Something about your persistence felt odd, almost suspicious. With a curious tilt of his head, he stepped closer, narrowing his eyes slightly as he studied your expression. "You’re acting weird," he muttered, his voice low as if trying to solve a mystery. He leaned in, hesitant at first, moving to take a whiff as though humoring you. And that’s when it happened. Before he could even register what was going on, your lips brushed against his forehead in a quick, affectionate kiss. The sudden gesture caught him off guard, and for a split second, his body froze. His eyes widened slightly as the realization sank in. Slowly, he pulled back, his expression a mixture of disbelief and amused irritation.

"I knew it," he said, pointing a finger at you like he’d just solved a grand conspiracy. "I knew there was something off about that question. It was too weird coming from you." He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest as if trying to regain the upper hand. But the faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips betrayed him. "That was lame," he finally declared, though his voice lacked any real bite. Instead, it was filled with a playful fondness that he couldn’t quite suppress. He looked away for a moment, trying to gather his composure, but when he glanced back at you, the warmth in his eyes was unmistakable. "Seriously, though," he said, stepping closer again, this time with a teasing glint in his gaze. "Who even comes up with a question like that? You’re so obvious." Yet, as he stood there, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, he reached out and gently flicked your forehead. "Don’t think you’re off the hook for that, though. Next time, I’m the one pulling the tricks." His soft laugh lingered in the air, leaving you both wrapped in the playful comfort of the moment.

Jeongin

When you leaned in and kissed Jeongin on the forehead, his reaction was immediate—and entirely unexpected. He looked up at you with wide eyes, his face frozen in an exaggerated expression of surprise, as if you’d just done something utterly shocking. For a moment, he stayed like that, his lips parting as if to say something, but then he let out a soft, theatrical mumble: "What was that?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked away, his shoulders slumping dramatically as he headed toward the couch. His movements were slow and deliberate, almost like he wanted you to notice. You watched him, a mix of confusion and amusement bubbling inside you. But as he flopped down on the couch with a heavy sigh, doubt began to creep in. "Is he really sulking?" you wondered to yourself. Unable to ignore the possibility, you stepped closer, leaning over slightly to catch his gaze. "Innie, are you mad?" you asked, your voice soft but tinged with concern. He didn’t respond right away, which only made you more nervous. But then, in a flash, his serious expression broke into a mischievous grin.

Before you could process what was happening, Jeongin shot up from his seat, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. "Gotcha!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with laughter as he pulled you even closer. Your heart skipped a beat, both from relief and the sudden closeness. But Jeongin wasn’t done yet. "Now," he said, his voice dropping into a playful tone, "it's revenge time." Before you could protest, he began showering you with kisses—on your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, anywhere he could reach. His actions were filled with an infectious joy that made it impossible not to laugh. You tried to squirm away, but his hold was firm, his arms wrapped around you like a warm cocoon. "Stop it!" you giggled, though your smile betrayed how much you were enjoying the moment. Jeongin finally paused, resting his forehead gently against yours, his grin still firmly in place. "That’s what you get for sneaking up on me," he teased, his voice soft but filled with affection. As the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, it was hard to tell who had truly won the playful battle—but neither of you really cared.

[prettyboykatsuki]

fang i need to see yukimiya with an oversexed s/o so bad

i think about this all the time bc of hypersexuality

tags for some implied religious trauma on mr yukimiyas part and very explicit sexual content. reader is very wanton lol, 18+

it is . sooooo hard for him. the thing is yukimiya genuinely thinks of you as such a warm, kind person. his feelings for you are so deep and sincere and completely removed from any lust he might feel for you. or at least that lust is intertwined with a stronger desire to be gentle and intimate and sweet with you yk

but you are sooooo horny and so shameless and it is soooo much for that poor boy. i do genuinely think yukimiya has like self imposed saving himself for marriage thing. and he's super upfront about it with you from the start bc u so obviously want to jump his bones. he has a very Strong sense of discipline overall.

like the first time you kiss you're just like... all over him. hands in his hair, pressed against his lap, tongue in mouth and he is trying to handle all the sensory input and failing. he has to PRY you off of him and he's so red and he's like no no we can't go any further.

and you pout jokingly but you never push him. you're so sweet about it, maybe a little teasing but that's it. you always express your desires and voice them, always tell him whats on you mind. if you think he looks handsome or sexy or whatever—you'll sort of fidget with the end of your straw and bite and make a comment so unbelievably lewd before moving right along.

you make these like... eyes at him. fuck me eyes, he's heard the term before but he didn't really get it until he met you. you know exactly what you want from him and you're thinking about how you can get it. a little dazed, very determined. always gets him sooo flush.

you brush things off easily enough when he blows you off about it. you're a lot but you're not....forceful or anything. he makes a little face of faux disappointment and you laugh it off and thats all there really is but the longer you date the less he feels sure of himself.

yukimiya wanted to get married young and didnt see a whole lot of purpose in trying to lose virginity to someone he didn't love so he held onto it for longer than most people. that plus growing up religious its just something he was so sure about it.

and he does want to treat you well. marry you. yukimiya is the first guy to ever be such a gentleman to you and he doesnt want to taint that because of his own ...desires. its dirty to him. he doesn't think it's bad when you want things, but it's different when he wants things.

but it gets. harder and harder. you're so forward and you are also so good at touching him (too good) and so attractive already without trying very hard. you could do anything and look insanely beautiful to him but god.

you really don't go farther than making out and heavy petting. but that in itself gets so obscene. the way you space out your kisses, the way you flick your tongue - how your hands slide up his chest and neck, thumb rubbing against his ears, how you carry your weight in his lap, how you use your teeth. you kiss him like you could eat him whole.

when your hand gets on his belt he always loses his sense of reason - only barely tears himself a way from it each time. half-hard and apologetic. eventually you get the feeling that he's not even... it's not like he doesn't want to do it but he's holding onto beliefs he only barely has.

you have to have a long conversation about it i think. give him a peptalk about how you know how much he loves you and sex can be intimate too etc. when he's still resistant to it, you make a compromise. no penetration until he's ready, even if that means marriage. no sex. you think its silly but it helps him make sense of everything.

i think he agrees to this kind of blindly, assuming it will take the edge and tension off. like letting the pressure out slowly so something doesnt explode.

but. once you open that box, you can't really close it again.

so you do everything but have sex. and it absolutely makes him want to fuck you.

its light at first. dry humping while you make out and making him cum in his jeans. giving a handjob or teaching him how to finger you ("for when you do fuck me, someday"). directing him on how exactly you like getting head - on foreplay, your sure hands over his shaky ones as he make him squeeze your tits and guide them into his mouth. tell him the other places on your body you like being touched.

you teach him things about his own body too. or rather, he learns them because of you. his ears get red and sensitive, he likes when you bite his ear lobes lightly.his lips too. likes your hands on his biceps or chest or back, kissing and rubbing his muscles appreciatively. it does something to him. he knows he's attractive but it's... different. it's a nice feeling to be wanted but being wanted by you makes his whole body break into these terrible shivers.

he learns that the tip of his cock is way more sensitve than it should be. he learns he doesn't mind when you take advantage of this either.

he's got a few moles on his body and he likes how you kiss them when you go down on him. on his hip and inner thigh and some other places. likes when you rub up against him in general, when you cling to him during it or when your nails dig into his arms

yukimiya likes how... relaxed you get when you feel good. the first time he makes you cum with his mouth he feels so absurdly accomplished, even more so when you giggle at him and kiss him so full of love.

nothing changes. you go on dates and see each other. sleep in the same bed. but when you stay over at his place now - he's started to anticipate your little escapades.

no penetration. he knows that should mean not getting his dick anywhere near you. but you're persuasive. it's fine, yuu-kun. just slide your dick against me, it'll feel good. you can do it between my thighs, if you want.

the first time yukimiya slides his hard cock through the soft, slick folds of your pussy he nearly passes out. randomly on a date night. it just turns out that way. your hands on the back of his neck, kissing him as it slips through the sticky warmth.

it feels so good. it's mindblowing. it's so unfair. how can something feeling so much better when everything else you've been feeling had felt so incredible? how can there be anything more tempting than what you already do?

but there is. its you with your ass up and your thighs squeeze as yukimiya fucks the plush of them - tip knocking against your clit, catching on your hole, one misstep away from thrusting. the thought haunts him even as he's cumming up against your belly and thighs.

there's a guilt he feels about greed in particular, even more than lust. sometimes you go at it and he just. can't help it. can't help but want more. can't help but shamefully jerk off in the bathroom after you've already done it for a while.

you come onto him the same as always, more now that he's receptive to it but god he can never turn down your advances. even when it'd be smarter to do it. all it takes is his name now, or maybe just you taking his glasses off so it's a little easier to kiss him. it scares him a little, just how easy it'd be to slip up and . take you really. thin threads of control fraying as he gets close and closer to just giving you what you want.

it's Hard. he holds onto it for so long. i think he snaps eventually when you do something very thoughtful for him on a bday or anniversay and he just becomes uncharacteristcally aggressive (not that ur mad) and u have such intense deep missionary. like eye contact, chest to chest, slow rolling of his hips while he grinds into you. it is such a crazy feeling.

yukimiya just really. bends to your whims after you have these breakthroughs. he is so unbearably seduced by you even when he tries so hard to fight but it . god its rough on his brain. shame and pleasure are not opposites for him, that's for sure.

[kaminocasey]

Hey! I'm gonna take advantage of your charity and incredible talent and ask me some Silco stuff, and I will make it very personal.

Im just a sucker for angsty fluff, so I was thinking something in the lines of reader works either in some restaurant where Silco goes or actually works in the last drop. And she's just having a rough couple of days and Silco finds out about it and just wants to help (maybe he gets frustrated because of it all, and goes all Silco, you know what I mean? Damn I'm gonna shut up now). But we all know Silco is not the most affectionate man, or at least shows it in weird (?) ways. I feel like it would be better (?) if they didn't have a relationship yet. But I'll leave it to your brilliance to do as you please, I have complete trust in your skills.

But remember, you don't have to do this if you don't feel like it of course.

Anyway, to much information already. So good luck, love your work, that brain of yours and you in general ❤️💙💛🤍

PS- do not allow me to make more requests, I will make them long, weird and I'll keep remembering more stuff to add and the next thing you know it's a full blown fic 🤣

Take All Your Sins

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, love!!! I was excited to do this one!!! This is going to be a two parter or MORE for SURE. <3 ilysm thank you again for your trust in me!!!

Summary: You work in the Last Drop and very close to Vander. What happens if Silco comes along and ruins that?

Pairing: Silco x Reader

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: Angst, sweet Silco, protective Vander, alcohol

Taglist Form | Arcane Masterlist

“If you have something else to do, I can finish those.” You come into the doorway of the kitchen, nodding toward the dishes that he’s doing. 

“I got ‘em. Almost done.” The older man smiles at you.

A few years ago, Vander gave you a place to stay when he found you out on the streets and ever since then, you were basically inseparable. His kids were like your own. 

“Rough night, huh?” Vander asks as you lean in the doorway, keeping an eye on the place in case more patrons came in. 

The Last Drop is usually busy this time of night, especially on this day of the week. But it’s like a ghost town right now and you can’t seem to figure out why.

“Rough week.” You sigh, crossing your arms. 

“Do you need a couple days off?” Vander asks, genuinely.

He always made sure you were taken care of, which you appreciate, but sometimes it feels like he does too much for others, and never lets anyone do anything for him. You’re bound to change that though. His birthday is coming up and you’ve been saving up for something special that will be from you and the kids. 

“Nah, I’m-” You start but hear the door open.

“You got it?” Vander asks and you nod with a grin and turn around to greet the customer, letting the kitchen door swing shut.

“What can I get ya?” You smile at the older man, who makes you do a subtle double take.

“Whiskey. Neat, please.” He smiles. 

He’s got dark hair, a partially scarred face, one blue eye and the other dark black with an orange iris that makes him look incredibly menacing. He’s wearing an open, fancy peacoat with a buttoned vest and tie. Who the hell is this guy?

His eyes rake over you as you approach the bar where he sits. 

“Haven’t seen you before.” You smile, politely. 

“I don’t get out much.” He takes his coat off and sits it down on the stool next to him. “I… work a lot.” 

His voice is silky and you can’t help but want to hear him say more. 

“What do you do?” You ask as you pour his drink. 

“I own my own business.” He tells you and takes the drink when you slide it to him. 

The way he says it, makes you think he doesn’t want to answer anymore questions about himself. 

“What’s your name?” He asks softly. 

You tell him and he takes a sip, keeping his blue eye on you. You smile softly, unsure of what to say.

“Pretty name.” He tells you, after he finishes off his drink. 

You go to pour him another but he puts his hand over his drink and shakes his head.

“Thanks.” You put the bottle back down and then take the empty glass from him, sitting it in the sink. “What’s yours?” 

“Silco. Do you like working here?” He asks, not missing a beat. 

You nod. “Yeah, I do.” 

“And you like Vander?” 

You nod. “Who doesn’t?” 

He chuckles, glancing around subtly. “Who doesn’t, indeed?”

“What are you doing after work?” He asks. 

Oh… of course. He thinks you’re going to put out- 

“I’m not trying to fuck you.” He tells you, as if he can read your mind while he stands up and puts his coat back on.

“You’re not?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to, but that’s not why I asked.” He smirks.

You both stare at each other for a moment. His eyes fall to your lips before coming back up to your eyes.

“So… the real reason is?” You cross your arms.

“I think you’re beautiful and I’ve not been on a proper date in years.” Silco shrugs, placing a hand on the back of the barstool. 

You go warm in the face before looking down at his slender fingers and immediately can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like inside-

“I’ll be by at 11.” He tells you, snapping your thoughts back to the present as he places a few cogs onto the bar. 

“Um. Alright.” You nod, giving a kind smile. 

He stares at you for another short moment before giving you a smile back and then leaving. Just as the door closes, Vander walks out and sees you staring at the door, breaking you out of the trance that Silco seemed to have put you in.

“Everything okay?” He asks, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You look up at him, smiling a little dreamily. It’s not something you’re used to. Normally, when customers ask you out, you brush them off and pay them no mind. But Silco… he managed to get you to pay attention. 

“All good. Um… I have a date after work.” You go warm in the face at the word ‘date’. 

It’s not like you don’t date… you do… just not consistently. The last date you went on was a year ago. It didn’t go well so you decided to just focus on work.

“With the customer that just came in? Who is he?” Vander’s eyebrows raise in surprise, knowing that you haven’t gone out with someone in a long time.

“Just… some guy.” You shrug, starting to wipe down the bar. 

Vander chuckles. “Alright. Keep your secrets. I was young once, too.”

You laugh with him, your thoughts immediately going back to Silco’s unmatching eyes and the way they softened at the sight of you. 

“You can go get ready if you want. I can finish here.” Vander smirks. 

You roll your eyes. “Thanks. I owe you.” 

“Nah. Get outta here.” He nods toward the door that leads to the upstairs. 

You pat him on the shoulder as you walk past him, heading upstairs to go shower. You look at the clock and see that it reads 9:30. That should give you plenty of time to get ready. You don’t take particularly long showers. 

As you turn on the water, you climb into the shower, letting the water flow over your body as you stand there for a moment before starting to wash your body and hair. You still can’t stop thinking about the older man. He had to be about Vander’s age, right? You wonder if they know each other. Perhaps after you get to know Silco a little more, you’ll introduce them. 

After your shower, you dry your hair the best you can and then settle on a dress that you’d saved up forever to buy just because. What better excuse to wear it than on a date with an extremely attractive, slightly intimidating, man? 

At ten til 11, you make your way back down to the bar. Vander and Benzo both let out a whistle at the sight of you.

“Don’t you clean up nice?” Vander grins. 

You shrug, going warm in the face from the attention. “I guess.” 

You sit up on the bar stool next to Benzo. You glance over at the door and then back at Vander. 

“Do you want something to loosen your nerves?” Vander teases. 

“I’m alright, thanks.” You roll your eyes, amused.

“Who’s this hot date with?” Benzo nudges you with his elbow. 

You go warm in the face all over again, thinking about Silco. “Just some older guy… he’ll be here any minute.” 

They accept that answer and continue their conversation from before about business stuff that you don’t really mind yourself with. You pretty much just show up and do your job and do exactly what Vander tells you to do and then go back upstairs and sleep. And then repeat. 

The door opens moments later, and the three of you look up to find Silco walking in. You can’t help but give him a sweet smile. He smirks at you and pauses by the door.

“Are you ready-” He starts.

“Silco.” Vander growls. 

“Hello, Vander.” Silco’s eyes fall past you to the man behind you. “Lovely establishment you have here.”

You turn to Vander, confused. “You know each other?”

“Oh yes, we do.” Silco walks toward you, wrapping an arm around your lower back, looking you up and down. “You look beautiful, darling.” 

“She’s not going anywhere with you.” Vander comes around the bar and starts toward Silco but Benzo gets up quickly from the stool and stops him. 

You look between Silco and Vander, still confused.

“I think that’s for her to decide.” Silco smirks up at Vander who stands almost a foot above him.

You turn to Vander, with furrowed brows. This man is the one who gave you life again, the man who is like a father to you. The man you owe your life to. If he says you shouldn’t go… then shouldn’t you listen to him?

[secriden]

This line. God, this line! It has been eating me up inside for 2 days now, because let's not forget, this line isn't about love, it's about trust. And that has implications that make me want to scream.

It's a direct reference to this moment earlier in the episode:

At the start of this discussion, Style and Fadel still have a kind of playful air about their conversation:

Style: Oh? Not even me? Fadel: You're at 80% at best. I feel like you're hiding something from me in the 20%.

In this exchange, though, there's a sense that Fadel is issuing a challenge, like there's something specific which Style can do to gain Fadel's full trust. And while Style knows there are things he cannot (yet) reveal to Fadel, I think a part of him is determined to be as honest as he can be, which is why he issues a challenge of his own by asking for more specificity:

Style: What do I have to do to gain your complete trust?

Part of this question is a simultaneously inquisitive and deflective - What (and why) do you think I'm hiding (something) from you? - but there's also a moment after Style finishes speaking where he stills and goes quiet that feels... genuine, weighty. Or, as @airenyah has pointed out in her meta on Style in episode 4, the "grounded[ness]" in Style's demeanour is a signal that Style means what he's saying in the moment. Maybe about his own desire to be worthy of Fadel's trust, maybe about how he genuinely does want this relationship to be real in whatever way that matters to Fadel.

I think Fadel sensed that too, because the moment looses all the lightheartedness it had before. Fadel pauses, and then gets a look on his face that just... breaks my heart. There's a sombreness there, like he knows he's going to have to say something that makes him sad. Fadel looks away, and then down, before he seems to steel himself and says:

Fadel: It'll never happen. No matter how much you love someone, I just don't believe that you can completely lay yourself bare in front of them.

Fadel says this like it's fact. Like what he's expressing is something foundational and true and irrefutable. It's not even about his doubt in Style's honesty, because this statement has no qualifiers or conditions put on it to connect it to Style. Rather this is what Fadel fundamentally believes about relationships and trust: he finds the very concept of being fully known and still accepted an impossibility.

Sure, maybe this is because of the falling out (or betrayal or disappearance) associated with the former lover; but I also think it might be because Fadel is acutely aware not only that he's hiding a rather big and dark secret (not to mince words, but: actual literal premeditated murder), but also about what it implies about Fadel. Because being able to kill another human, coldly and clinically and without remorse, takes a certain type of person. Because, yes, Fadel has lived through an absolutely harrowing and traumatising event (his parents' murder), but it's also undeniable that it changed him. Because there's something about Fadel that twisted dark and which he never quite got back. There's an anger, a hurt that colours every moment of his life; that enables him to look a man in the eyes, smile politely, and pull a trigger.

And at this point in their relationship, Fadel's understanding of Style is that he's... well, kind of innocent. Especially in comparison to Fadel and Bison, and even Kant.

Style, who easily reveals facts about his life which Fadel already knows (winning a car tuning competition), making Fadel doubt his own instincts about Style hiding secrets. Style, who also reveals the things Fadel doesn't know, like the tender and secret pain of a mother lost to cancer (which, now that I think about it, Fadel may also know) and his worries about a father who "lost his bearings for a bit" (which he probably doesn't). Style, who tries to comfort Fadel in his own loss by offering a safe space and a sympathetic ear.

Style, who doesn't just see Fadel for his tragedy, but is asking to be given the chance to accept all of Fadel as a person. Style, who not only wants but has the capacity, to be the only person Fadel needs to rely on. Style who, despite the sea of differences between them, understands Fadel on a level that is so very foundational.

I'm going to slightly segue and mention something that may not resonate with everyone, but really hit me in the gut this episode: because I lost my father when I was 16 after he battled cancer for 2 painful years. And this revelation about Style has totally shifted and coloured everything Style has done in a new light for me. Because not only does this totally explain Style's sometimes almost stubbornly childish demeanour (it's common in adults who've had to 'grow up' too early), but also why Style shows seemingly random flashes of insight and maturity when they are most crucial. Notably, Style has this almost instinctive sense of when he needs to back off a sore point with Fadel that I couldn't quite put my finger on until this episode.

I've seen a few jokes about Style's awkward subject change, but I've actually got a friend who I hold very dear to my heart who was one of the only people to give me a sense of normalcy and comfort when my dad was on his last few days and then at his funeral. And part of that was the instinctive way she would know when I needed to just. Not be a grieving daughter for a few minutes. To get a small respite from the overwhelming hopelessness and sense of impending loss. To get a moment to breathe and gather my strength, because knowing I was never going to see my dad again, or hear his voice, or hold his hand was tearing me apart back then. Sometimes she'd talk to me about college drama, sometimes she'd introduce a new kpop video to me, sometimes she'd just ask me what I wanted to eat and take me to go have a meal with her. And sometimes there really just isn't anything else to say other than "I'm sorry." Nothing you say - nothing you can say - is going to ever, ever make this grief go away, and in most cases, it was better when people (especially those who couldn't really understand) didn't try.

And I think if you look at Fadel very closely, there's a moment of genuine surprise (Fadel wasn't expecting the subject change at all) and then... something that looks like fondness mixed with exhausted relief. Because I don't think Fadel was ready to talk about his parents yet. This was honesty he wasn't ready to give Style, mostly prompted because Style himself had willingly been so vulnerable that a part of Fadel wanted to reciprocate. But further down that path lies not only his darkest memories, but also the connection to the part of his life he is not willing to share with Style yet. So this subject change is a relief, it's a blessing, but it's also Style knowing when he shouldn't push any further with Fadel's fragile heart.

Which brings me back to how well the episode's theme of trust (both deserved and undeserved) was woven in this episode. This is true on multiple levels and characters but I'm not even going to attempt to touch Kant in this post because... Lord, that is beyond me at the moment. Someone else needs to do that, pretty please, so I can reblog it and scream.

It starts, somewhat unexpectedly, with Fadel asking for entrance into the intimate spaces of Style's life.

So, this episode was not about Fadel's fear of his own feelings, desires, or even affection for Style - that appears to be fully addressed in episode 4. I think that's why we see Fadel be so physically affectionate and indulgent of Style in this episode. He's come to terms with his lust for Style's body (hence his comfort in initiating sex), he's accepted Style as his boyfriend and so can enjoy Style's playful teasing (still reluctantly, but Fadel is still an introvert even if he's mostly enjoying Style's rambunctious nature), and give into Style's (and Bison's and Kant's) cajoling with relatively little fuss.

He's even comfortable toying with the edges of revealing his darker and more sinister side by reminding Style implicitly about how violent Fadel has the potential to be. Recall that Fadel knows Style knows some of his capacity for violence; he just doesn't know how very thoroughly Style is aware of the full scale of this truth. It does help that Style evidences no actual fear and, in fact, looks positively euphoric. Like, buddy, pal, dearest one... please control yourself.

And yet something very, very telling is the way the show makes it a point to depict Fadel very deliberately getting drunk during the double date. Even before the date has started, Fadel looks to be about half a beer in and we see him constantly drinking, drinking, drinking during the whole date. From the conversation about trust he has with Style while Kant and Bison are being off key and adorable about it, to after Kant leaves and Bison gets worried. And we've seen Fadel cope with emotional and mental distress with alcohol before, so we know that Fadel is internally fighting some kind of very intense battle even as he is also very clearly enjoying moments with Style on this date (most notably when they're dancing by the bowling lanes and when Style asks him to go home with him).

So here's my take: rather than being about love, this is about Fadel fighting to hold onto his own philosophy on relationships and trust. Because as much as I do believe Fadel believes he's telling the truth when he tells Style that 100% trust is "impossible", I think it's clear that's not what he wants.

What he wants is to finish this last job so that the only thing he can't be honest about with Style will finally stop being a factor in his life. What he wants is to fully and completely reciprocate the openness Style seems to be giving Fadel. What he wants is to switch off his brain and let his heart lead for once, to stop fighting a battle he has no desire to win anymore, only he can't. Trust (not love) is Fadel's final frontier, and one which he can't quite give up in spite of himself.

Which is why I think Fadel intentionally gets himself drunk here. Because he wants to let his guard down around Style. He wants to open himself fully, he wants to "lay himself bare" for Style, he wants Style to know the full truth and accept him anyway - and he gets so close, but can't quite get there - because he doesn't know that Style already has.

When Style says this, Fadel thinks it's empty words, not knowing that Style has long passed the bar Fadel thinks is insurmountable. And just like Style was able to offer safety and reassurance to the vulnerability Fadel was showing in episode 4, Style instinctively gets to the core of Fadel's darkest fears again:

Style: One day, I'll be your 100%.

This isn't (just) a promise that Style will wear Fadel's stubbornness down, or that Style will be worthy of Fadel's 100% (which, already, has me in tears, ngl). Beyond that, this is Style promising Fadel isn't ruined for this; that it isn't too late, that whatever hurts and wounds Fadel has can be made whole again. That the kind of honest and all-encompassing and unconditional trust which Fadel says is impossible can, in fact, be his. That Fadel still has the capacity to trust and be trusted the way he so desperately, painfully longs for.

I know a lot of people have said Style in this episode is writing cheques he has no ability to honour, but I think it's more layered than that. Because in a very significant and profound way, Style is wholly deserving of Fadel's trust. Because in all the ways that Fadel has ever known he should want, Style actually IS worthy of his trust. Style knows the truth Fadel is hiding, knows what this man is capable of, knows the danger of being in his arms, knows the likely nonexistent future Fadel has to offer him -- and wants him anyway. Style is a man who would stare into Fadel’s darkness and reach out first. Strip away the complication of Kant being blackmailed and dragging Style into his mission, and Style is literally perfect for Fadel. He is exactly what Fadel wants (and possibly has wanted for a very long time). He is, in fact, exactly what Fadel needs to ever experience anything beyond the shadow of a life he's had so far.

But oh, the cruel narrative means that Style is also, simultaneously, painfully undeserving of Fadel's trust; and this is something Style is very much aware of. I think that's why he's trying so very hard to be worthy in all the other ways he can be. Style's awareness of what Fadel is hiding enables Style to (counterintuitively) be completely honest about his feelings for and about Fadel even as he cannot reveal his motivations. So he gives Fadel as much honesty as he can: offers the vulnerability of his own pain and hurts; the comfort of his true understanding and acceptance.

And just as Fadel's vulnerability in the abandoned factory was met with Style choosing a form of physical connection that prioritised Fadel's pleasure (it's made very clear that Style is jerking Fadel off and that all his focus in that moment was on Fadel, not his own pleasure), so too is this moment met with Style very intentionally choosing to worship Fadel's body with all the tenderness and genuine emotional weight that Style wanted Fadel to have in their first time in the storeroom.

Because, crucially, this was Style giving Fadel the chance to lay himself at least physically bare. This is the closest either of them can get to full honesty with the secrets they both are keeping. It's why Style tries so very hard to show the care and adoration and genuine feelings he has for Fadel. Why he makes sure that the vulnerability of Fadel getting himself as drunk and as relaxed and as trusting as Fadel can allow himself to be is tied only to gentleness and tenderness and pleasure.

Because Style actually knows that Fadel can't (and shouldn't) trust him in the way Fadel truly wishes to.

And as much as I believe that Style genuinely means this from the bottom of his heart, the horrifying full truth is that it is Style that has the metaphorical knife hovering over Fadel's chest. He is the one with the capacity to actually give Fadel a new scar that would truly matter. He is, in fact, the only one Fadel wants to fully trust -- and this, along with Style's compromised heart, makes it so that the circumstances will doom them both.

[nosyp]

Twst chars from most to least likely to entertain ur weird bs

Note = by weird bs, I mean like ur random ass behaviours, from screaming random stuff to pranking ppl... This has been in my drafts for a whileee... enjoy

MOST

Ace Trappola

Ace is LITERALLY the embodiment of chaos. He loves to stir things up and will almost always jump into pranks or loud public behavior. His mischievous nature and carefree attitude make him a perfect partner in crime for wild antics. He’ll often initiate chaos just for fun, and his energy is contagious.

2. Kalim Al-Asim

This is a no brainer, he'll literally join in everything and ANYTHING you're doing, no matter how busy he is. He thinks everything your doing is fun and he won't wanna miss it for the world.

3. Cater Diamond

Cater LIVES for content and trends. Anything that promises or even slightly hints at entertainment (or is post-worthy) will have him fully engaged, he's listening as soon as you mention anything fun. He’ll even suggest to turn your antics into videos or memes.

4. Lilia Vanrouge

He literally tricks his friends for no absolute reason at all. ANYTHING that promises trouble for him, he's in. He adores chaos and he'll go wherever it goes and it's going in your direction.

5. Floyd Leech

Floyd loves unpredictability, so as long as your antics keep him entertained, he’s gonna be there. But once he gets bored, you’re on your own so you better keep it fun.

6. Jade Leech

He enjoys watching chaos unfold, and while he might not always start it, he’ll definitely join in. And he's not going to deny entry in your chaos.

7. Ruggie Bucchi

Another no brainer, bro literally tricks people for his own benefit. He is down for fun, especially if it’s harmless pranks or mischief. He loves silly ideas as long as they don’t get him into trouble.

8. Rook Hunt

Rook finds beauty in everything, even your weirdness. He’ll narrate your antics poetically while fully participating, making everything feel dramatic and epic, only further motivating you into doing smt crazier.

In the middle of most and least likely, varies on the situation kinda guy

9. Sebek Zigvolt

He’s loud, intense, and has a strong presence, especially when it comes to Malleus. And while he might not always go along with pranks, he can certainly be swept up in the moment, especially if it involves defending his pride.

10. Deuce Spade

Yes, he might be quite dumb sometimes but he is not like that all the time. But when he’s in a group, he’ll sometimes get swept up in the chaos, but it’s not something he seeks out on his own. He enjoys the excitement but can feel out of place in overly loud, chaotic situations.

11. Ortho Shroud

He'll engage with genuine enthusiasm, analyzing your dopamine levels to determine whether or not he'll join. If it’s wholesome, he’s all in. However, if it’s dangerous, expect him to step in with big-brother energy (even if he's younger).

12. Epel Felmier

Since epel is a bit more rebellious and will join in on chaotic behavior when it suits him. He’s not afraid to break the rules, especially if it’s for a good reason. BUT he might be hesitant to start chaos on his own but will happily get involved if it’s fun or a way to express himself.

13. Jamil Viper

Jamil is composed and prefers to keep things orderly, but he’s not completely against chaos. If it serves his goal or it’s in the best interest of his plans, he will engage but he’s not the first to initiate chaos, but he’ll follow along if it’s part of his strategy or if it helps him control the situation.

14. Azul Ashengrotto

Azul prefers things to be controlled and orderly, and he isn’t one to create chaos just for fun. However, if there’s a situation where the chaos might even benefit him or his business, he won’t hesitate to join in. His motivations are more strategic, so he’s likely to engage in pranks or chaos if it serves a purpose.

15. Leona Kingscholar

Leona is the type to avoid unnecessary noise and chaos, preferring peace and quiet. However, if he’s in a good mood or if chaos is tied to something that interests him, he might engage. He’s not the first to start pranks, but he might join in if he finds it amusing or if it helps him relax.

16. Malleus Draconia

Malleus doesn’t actively seek chaos, but his curiosity and fascination with human behavior make him more likely to get involved in loud or chaotic situations, especially if they intrigue him. He’s not loud or disruptive by nature, but he’ll join in if he’s in a group, or if the situation calls for it.

17. Jack Howl

Jack is a serious guy, but he’s also loyal to his friends. If the situation calls for it or if his friends are involved, he’ll reluctantly join in on pranks or chaotic activities. He’s not one to seek out chaos, but he’ll participate if it’s necessary or if it helps bond with others.

18. Silver

Silver will go along with your antics even though he might not fully understand the point. BUT if it’s too chaotic for him, he’ll try to steer you toward calmer activities, kinda saving u and him from trouble.

19. Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is strict and values rules and order above all else. His temper can get the better of him, though, especially if someone challenges his authority or pushes his limits. He might reluctantly get involved in chaos, particularly if it’s something that breaks the rules, but he’s not someone who enjoys it on a daily basis.

LEAST (No way, nuh uh)

20. Trey Clover

Trey is calm, collected, and extremely responsible. He values order and structure and will steer clear of any chaotic or loud activities. You'll NEVER catch him dragged into chaos, willingly.

21. Vil Schoenheit

Vil is all about maintaining perfection, both in his appearance and in his environment. He won’t tolerate loud or chaotic behavior, as it conflicts with his polished image. He avoids situations that might risk his reputation or status and is very unlikely to partake in any public mayhem.

22. Idia Shroud

It's no secret that Idia WAY prefers to stay out of the spotlight. He would rather stay in his room gaming than get involved in chaotic public behavior. Loud pranks and disruptive activities are his worst nightmare, and he avoids them at all costs.

A/N = The order is so... tacky ew... pls tell me if you disagree or there are any mistakes🙏

[vespaer77]

Aside from the fact that I think I might be the only person on the planet who could genuinely be interested in the Executors (I say "could" because my faith in good storytelling from BW is on shaky ground), I fully agree with this post.

And I say this as someone who wasn't sure that the Veil coming down was the right move. But whether someone thinks the Veil should come down or stay up is immaterial. The whole point is that no arguments for the validity of either claim were really ever truly examined. The only reasoning in the game that we get for the Veil remaining intact is that its collapse would "drown the world in demons." Which is... almost a fallacy on its own. Aside from naturally occurring malign spirits (that we learn about from the Mournwatch), demons exist as a direct result of the Veil simply existing.

Perhaps the danger is in not knowing what would happen to all of the mundane, unmagical folk when confronted with the full power of all the raw, unfiltered, chaotic magic of the Fade. But that's still thinking of magic within the confines of the Fade itself. We have no perspective, outside of Solas, on what magic really looks like when the Fade and the mundane world combine. Does it change? Is it still dangerous? Who does it endanger? Are we wrong? Are we right? Who knows? The whole point is that there's never an opportunity to ask those questions. And we have at least three characters fully immersed and available in the story who could provide concrete, first-person, lived and experienced answers.

But we never ask.

We have a spirit of Wisdom who loves answering questions.

And we never ask.

Hell, in addition, we have two dwarves that are connected, isatunolly, with the Titans, who were also there before the Veil.

And we don't get to really ask anything of great value. Even our characters are canonically frustrated with how little we get to ask.

I just think it's very interesting that this game was called Dreadwolf for so long, and then it wasn't. The game we got has very little to do with, and makes very little use of, the Dread Wolf at all. So the game is called The Veilguard. But at no point does the Veilguard really ever.... guard... the Veil. Or make any mention of guarding the Veil. Or have any discussion on why guarding the Veil is so super important or what it even means, especially considering that, in the first 20min of the game, the only real element threatening the Veil is neutralized until the last 10min.

The game, called The Veilguard, isn't about the Veil at all.

In my humble opinion? This game should have been given a title that had more to do with the Blight or the gods or something. Or, given how many times it gets said in game, it could've just been called, "Dragon Age: It's Just So Hard." Even on a meta level, that's a title I could've believed, lol.

All this without even mentioning that one mural memory. We all know the one. The one that falls somewhere between a shameful, textbook retcon and a blatant attempt at gaslighting.

Whoops. I mentioned it, didn't I? Maybe I'll make a longer post about that someday. That's the part of this game that really grinds my gears, the status of the Veil notwithstanding.

In short, I firmly believe that the vilification of Solas is purely based on a retcon (and one that makes no logical sense when properly examined) and it's a hill I'm prepared to die on.

Anyhoops, if someone told me that, even though this game had been in development for 10yrs, the final version of this game was produced from start to finish in 16mos or less, I'd honestly believe it. I also feel like they were 100% shooting for a game that would have DLC afterwards and were told late in their development cycle that there wouldn't be so they tried to gift wrap everything with the ribbons and bows that they had. Like... go to the Halls of Valor and tell me that this is a fully finished game that was intended to be complete from the very beginning.

Castles in the Fade, or What Was the Point of the Veil Anyway

Something that will now haunt me until the end of time is why was the concept of the Veil ever introduced into this series.

We’ve been hearing about it since the very first game. There’s a codex entry about tears in the Veil in Origins. Tamlen mentions a thin spot in the Veil if you play a Dalish elf. Sandal has a prophecy in Dragon Age 2: “One day the magic will come back—all of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part and the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see.” Admittedly, this is just one line said by a character who often says odd things, but it hinted to the fact they were planning to do something with the Veil from the very beginning. The state of the Veil is repeatedly brought up. It all had to mean something! Or so I thought. 

When I saw “The Dread Wolf Rises” quest in Veilguard, I said, “Oh, here we go!” The Veil is coming down, magic is coming back, and it’s going to set up such an interesting story for the next game. 

Alas, no. 

I hadn’t really enjoyed my time playing Veilguard up until this point. It felt like the game was ducking and dodging every bit of world building and lore that could possibly bring nuance or complexity to the story. Every returning character or faction was a cardboard cutout of themself. They shoved Solas is a time-out box and gave him nothing to do. They refused to let him have any impact or influence on the story when he had been set up to be our main antagonist back in Trespasser. This game used to be called Dreadwolf! And while we learn about his past… we never talk to him about it. In the present, he’s in stasis.

Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are our villains. And they are your typical evil for evil’s sake villains. They are mad, bad, and only as dangerous as the narrative will allow as to not give Rook and co too much trouble. They are surprisingly patient while Rook fixes all their companions’ problems… until Elgar’nan moves the moon to cause an eclipse. A vital component in making his own lyrium dagger. For some reason. This guy can move a satellite!? And he just let Rook walk away in previous encounters… twice. Ok. Sure.

The Evil Duo need their own dagger ostensibly to tear down the Veil, because they want to unleash the full force of the Blight onto the world. Because they are evil. And they were thwarted last time they tried to Blight the entire world. Why do they think Blighting the world is a good idea? What’s the point of ruling a world if everyone is dead? I guess they haven’t thought that through, because of the madness and the evilness.

Ok, I thought. Perhaps the gods will be the one to tear down the Veil. Or maybe we’ll have a choice to let Solas do it his way before they can, which will be less chaotic and less full of Blight. Because the Veil has to be coming down one way or another? Why introduce the concept of the Veil, especially a Veil that has been thinning and failing since the series began, if it’s just going to… stay.

There is a principle in storytelling called Chekov’s gun. If something is mentioned in a story, it must have a purpose. If you keeping mentioning that gun hanging on the wall over the fireplace, it’s because at some point in the story, someone is going to take it down and use it. The Veil felt like Chekov’s gun to me. Chekov’s Veil, if you will. It’s been here from the beginning of our tale, the spectre hanging over our protagonists’ heads for multiple games.

The Veil has been a character unto itself. It was the central focus of the third game, and its dissolution was set up to be the core conflict of the fourth game. We learn everything we thought we knew about the Veil was a lie. It was not created by the Maker to separate the Fade from this world because of jealous spirits, it was created by a guy named Solas to trap the elven gods and the Blight from destroying the world. Also, the elven gods were never gods, and they are also evil.

This reveal will surely throw the Andrastian religion into chaos! This puts the very existence of the Maker into question! The Evanuris are a lie; it’s only fair Catholicism—oh, I mean—the Chantry is a lie too. We briefly touch on that in Veilguard… then it is quietly discarded. Religious crisis averted.

But I digress.

When the title of the fourth game was changed from Dreadwolf to Veilguard, I started to see the writing on the wall. Still, I held out hope the Veil would have some greater purpose in the story. That its introduction as a concept was for a reason. That something in this world would change.

Instead, from the get-go, the question of the Veil is no question at all. We only get Solas and Varric making oblique or catastrophizing statements about it. Solas says little beyond he has a plan. If I ever wanted to hear a villain monologue about their plan, it was now! Varric, on the other hand, decries Solas’s plan. He warns that should the Veil fall, it will destroy the world and drown it in demons. And that’s that.

We never really learn why Solas wants to tear the Veil down, or why he thinks it will help anyone. “The Veil is a wound inflicted upon this world. It must be healed,” he says. And that’s basically all he says about it in Veilguard. In Inquisition and Trespasser, we learn it took the immortality from the elves. It cut most of magic off from the world. Spirits are trapped and are being corrupted into demons, and most of what we know about spirits and demons is wrong. There are ancient elves possibly asleep? That part is left vague, but ancient elves are still about. We meet some in Mythal’s temple. There seems to have been some merit in bringing it down, because elves were flocking to Solas’s cause at the end of Trespasser. He had agents working for him already. What do they know that we don’t know?

Apparently nothing, because by the time Veilguard rolls around, there are no mention of agents. He is working alone. His only motivation now seems to be he’s too deep in his sunk-cost fallacy. The Veil is unnatural, so it must be removed—consequences be damned. We are never given any reason to think Solas has a leg to stand on in his pursuit of tearing down the Veil. We never hear any kind of counter argument from anyone, not even Solas, as to why the Veil should come down. We are only told it will destroy the world. It will drown the world in demons. This is all Solas’s fault.

There is no nuance. No complexity. No moral quandary to mull over. The game gives us vague warnings with no explanation as to what exactly is so world-annihilating about the Veil coming down. We must take Varric’s word at face value. We’re the heroes; Solas is the villain. Stop him.

It makes me wonder why Solas was ever a companion in Inquisition, let alone a romance option. Solas was presented to us as a complicated character in Inquisition. We had the potential throughout the game to make him see the value of this world, to help him realize he was wrong about it. “We aren’t even people to you,” the Inquisitor says in Trespasser. Solas replies, “Not at first. You showed me that I was wrong...again.” He began the third game viewing the world as tranquil, seeing the people in it as nothing more than figments in a nightmare, just as we saw our companions in the In Hushed Whispers quest. He ends the game having made friends, having recognized he was mistaken. He might have even fallen in love. (Or he may still seen no merit in this world if the Inquisitor antagonized him the entirety of their time together.) But something makes him continue with his plan to tear down the Veil, despite recognizing this world is real. He must know something we don’t. Something we’ll learn about in the next game.

We’ve been hearing about the Veil for three games now. We’ve set up our complex antivillain for the next installment, and he’s going to tear the Veil down. We swear to stop him or save him. But it has to be more complex than that. It can’t be so straightforward. Uncomplicated. Simple. Boring. Right? Right?

Nope. He really is just the villain, mustache-twirling and all. He apparently had no greater motivation, no as of yet unrevealed knowledge that would put this whole Veil thing into a new context. It was really as simple as the Veil falling will destroy the world, so Solas must be stopped. There is no new information that is revealed which makes us question what we are doing. Solas is never given any nuance or complexity to his actions. Nuance and complexity have actively been taken away. Both him and the Veil are looking like they are the worst things to be in a story: pointless. Why introduce the Veil if it’s just going to remain unchanged? Why introduce a character like Solas, bother humanizing him (for lack of a better term), giving us his backstory, setting him up as a cunning antagonist, only to make him look stupid, then put him on a shelf until the last ten minutes of your game?

Solas was the trickster archetype of this tale. He was our version of Loki from Norse mythology. What is the role of the trickster archetype? To challenge the status quo. To bring about events of extreme change, like say, the tearing down of a Veil that holds back all of magic. Loki is a huge contributing factor in Ragnarök. Through his manipulation, he causes the death of the beloved god, Baldr. This ushers in a long winter, which signifies the beginning of the end. Loki is imprisoned for this crime. When the final battle between gods and giants begins, the sun and moon are swallowed, plunging the earth into darkness. The earth shakes and Loki is freed to fight on the side of the giants. The world burns in raw chaos, falls beneath the sea, and is reborn. The world is remade, and a new realm of the gods and a new, better earth is formed.

It really felt like this was the setup they were going for. Solas causes the death of Mythal, and this is his catalyst for creating the Veil, which ushers in a world without magic. This could be seen as equivalent to the long winter. Solas falls asleep, trapped in dreams. He wakes and sets in motion bringing about the apocalypse. It’s not a perfect one to one, but it’s there if you squint. We have a war against the gods in Veilguard. I was expecting a few remaining Titans to wake and join the fight. But we don’t get any of that. There is a final battle, but it does not end in the end of the world. Or a better world. It just ends, and everything is the same.

It seems our trickster god caused his apocalypse thousands of years before our story started, when he created the Veil. His role in this tale was over before ours began, and he really is just some relic from a long-past age. He has no role, no purpose in this story. He is here to be thwarted. He is no Loki at all.

If you can’t tell, I wanted the Veil to come down. Did I think the Veil coming down would be painless? Have no negative consequences? No. Of course not. But keeping it up has negative consequences too. And it made for an interesting story. Or at least it could have. But we never explore that. The game presents no counter argument to having the Veil stay up, which, again, begs the question: what was the point of introducing the concept of the Veil at all?

Did I think the Veil coming down was actually the best solution to help Thedas become a better place? I don’t know, and I never will, because the game never argues for it one way or another. It just tells you to want it in place and to stop asking questions. In real life, a catastrophic event is not the best way to solve any of the world’s problems. But this is the realm of fiction. We have gods and monsters, magic and myth. We have introduced the status quo of Thedas, recognized it needs to change, then our trickster god appears ready to fulfill his role in the narrative. 

Instead, it all comes to nothing.

I got to the end of Veilguard… and everything was more or less the same as it was at the start of Origins. Veilguard actually tries its hardest to pretend any previously mentioned problems don’t exist, so of course the Veil coming down has no merit. There are no problems to solve in this world, apparently. Solas is just stuck in the past and can’t get with the times. Silly Solas.

The Veil isn’t even a permanent solution. It wasn’t to begin with. It was some duct tape wrapped around a broken pipe, and we’ve just slapped an extra piece of tape on it. It’s still leaking. It is still unnatural, and will fall eventually one way or another. Large amounts of bloodshed weaken it, so I guess Thedas better achieve world peace real quick to avoid any battles. There were seven super-powered mages holding it together… now there is just one. Ironically, the Veil was going to fall after two more Blights anyway. The Wardens were doing Solas’s work for him! It would also have released the full force of the Blight at that time… which Solas was trying to avoid, I presume.

It feels like keeping the Veil up just pushed a big problem onto Thedas’ future generations. We’ll keep slapping bandaids on it until it all falls apart. Someone else can deal with the fallout, but we’ll be dead by then, so who cares.

Primarily, I wanted the Veil to come down from a storytelling perspective. The Veil was an interesting concept and I wanted the story to do something interesting with it. Conflict is what makes stories stories and the Veil coming down could create so much compelling and complex conflict. And the Fade is weird, and I like weird. Stories are also about change, and I wanted to see Thedas change. Yet, Veilguard is over, and barely anything has changed. Instead of magic coming back being a conflict for the next game, they went with Fantasy Illuminati. Oh.

The Veil turned out to be a nothing-burger, and no problems in this world are even close to being solved. Slavery is still rampant in Tevinter. The elven people are still oppressed everywhere. Mages have no more rights in the South than they did in Origins. Spirits are still trapped and being corrupted. The Calling still exists, though might be different somehow now? They don’t really get into that. The Chantry’s validity is still not allowed to be questioned. The Blight still exists in some form, but again it’s vague. Oh, and we learn the dwarves have been gravely wronged, and the Titans are still tranquil. At least if you redeem Solas and a romanced Lavellan joins him, they can work together on healing the Blight and helping the Titans. Oh, good. One problem is being acknowledged and some action will be taken. Offscreen. Hurray? Solas doesn’t have a really great track record of fixing problems, so Lavellan is definitely going to need to be there to make sure he doesn’t fuck it up.

For some reason, this game seemed terrified of letting us think about anything for more than two seconds. It shied away from complexity or nuance at every turn. The game is called The Veilguard—ironically, that word is never uttered in the game—but we are given no real motive for guarding the Veil. We’re unquestionably the hero. The villains are uncomplicatedly evil. Save the world… never wonder what you are doing or why.

I wanted the game to make me question if the Veil staying up or coming down was the right choice. I needed to be given a real counter argument. Convince me the alternative would actually be better or worse, because as I mentioned… things suck quite a bit in Thedas already for a lot of people right now. Let the Veil’s fate be a difficult choice to make. If the conflict cannot be what to do about the Veil, it should be am I doing the right thing about the Veil. If the heart of your game is so thin on motive, everything else falls apart around it.

I hoped they were setting up a complex, Thedas-sized existential conflict for this game in Trespasser, but no. I wanted something to happen, but nothing did. 

I want to feel challenged and changed by a story, not left feeling empty. I’m tired of superficial entertainment. I want to sink my teeth into a narrative that doesn’t paint the world in broad strokes of black and white, good and evil, heroes and villains.

Ultimately, I think my issue is why even introduce a concept like The Veil if you’re not going to do anything interesting with it. Or anything at all. What I thought was Chekov’s Veil turned out to just be a MacGuffin. And that’s disappointing.

[star-hoon]

number one girl

"I'd give it all up if you told me that I'll be, the number one girl in your eyes"

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

[WORK IN PROGRESS!]

PAIRING. sunghoon x fem reader (best friends-to-lovers! au)

WARNINGS. profanity, (will be updated once complete)

WORD COUNT. (will be updated once complete)

SUMMARY. you always admired your best friend sunghoon. but when did that admiration turn into something...more?

DISC. this story is entirely fiction & does not reflect any real events of the idols mentioned.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. omfg this was so cheesy

pls give me feedback, i'd love to improve my writing so any and all critique is welcomed <3

you can still remember the first day you met sunghoon.

it was the first week of the semester at university and in physics class you were partnered up with jake, the handsome austrailian student (much to the other girls' dismay). although you of course could admit jake was very charming and handsome, you saw him as a lot more than that. he was smart and always patient to give you some extra tutoring when you didn't quite understand what was taught in lecture, genuinely kind, and it was so entertaining to see him never pass up a chance to show you a new picture of his dog layla.

jake invited you to his birthday party at an arcade that also had things like escape rooms and an ice skating rink. you've never met any of jake's friends before so you really didn't know what to expect but after some drinks and games in the arcade, it wasn't too hard to ease your initial nerves around the group of strangers.

"you HAVE to see sunghoon ice skate, i swear he's more coordinated on ice than walking on the ground..." wonyoung says to you as the group walks to the ice skating rink. she was one of the girls there that you got along with really well and she was super friendly right off the bat.

"really? huh... sorry i'm really bad with names, who's sunghoon again?" you nervously laugh to her.

she points to the dark haired boy laughing with heeseung as you all get in line to get you ice skates.

"he used to compete in international ice skating competitions...almost working towards olympic level. but he decided to drop competing to focus on his studies. don't let him try to convince you he just 'skates for fun'... you'll see what i mean," she had a lingering fondness in her eyes.

you couldn't help but to wonder what wonyoung meant but you got your skates and laced them on the benches lining the rink of ice.

"before we all get in the rink, i think it's only fair sunghoon gives a little show before we all totally eat shit on this ice" jake announces to the group, everyone laughing along with him.

your gaze falls on sunghoon, noticing the faint blush on his cheeks with all the attention now on him. you see his faint smile and waving his hands, declining jake.

"oh cmon sunghoon! please! some people here haven't seen you on the ice and you've been telling me you've been dying to skate again..." sunghoon finally gave in.

"fine fine, only because it's your birthday," sunghoon jokingly rolled his eyes. everyone cheered as you all gathered along the wall of the rink. the minute sunghoon started gliding along the ice, it was like a switch flipped. you felt like the person you were watching wasn't that shy boy you briefly met a few hours ago. his aura radiated a confidence but also a sense of comfort. you could feel his emotion with every turn and twirl. you could see his visible passion and love of skating. he was smiling so wide, his fangs poked out and you couldn't help but to smile as well. it was the kind of smile you wanted to stare at forever.

he was freestyling to whatever music that was playing over the speakers of the skating rink but you could tell he didn't need choreography to shine brighter than any of the white fluorescent lights in the building. you understood what wonyoung meant, he truly looked more comfortable on ice than on the ground—and you grew more and more curious about sunghoon.

when he concluded his impromptu performance, you all applauded and jake along with the other boys entered the rink cheering sunghoon on, hugging him and ruffling his hair. you entered the rink, you heart hammering out of your chest in nervousness and anxiousness. you've never ice skated before and you already knew you would make a total fool of yourself in front of everyone.

"wonyoung, i've never ice skated before...can i hang on to you?" she chuckled at your nervousness, finding you adorable.

"of course, here hang on to my arm until you get the hang of it. we can stay near the wall" the few circles you did around the rink was less you hanging on to wonyoung and more you having a death grip on the ledge of the wall—stopping every 2 feet feeling beyond imbalanced. you let go of wonyoung making a full stop.

"i'm gonna rest for a little bit, you can go hang out with the others" you stated trying to cover your labored breath.

"are you sure?" she questioned. "yeah! go for it! i'm just gonna take a breather, i'll join you in a sec" you reassured her. she gave you her signature sweet smile and skated towards the rest of the group.

after a few moments of watching the rest of the group from afar, you attempted to skate towards the center of the ice to join the rest of the group. without knowing still how to maintain your balance and the wall no longer within arms reach, you knees completely buckle under your weight. you were pretty much bracing for impact to have your hands and knees to collide with the harsh coldness of ice at your feet. before you could even fully comprehend it, you felt a pair of arms catching you, slightly easing your fall.

"woah that was a close one. are you okay?" it was sunghoon. his face was close to yours, close enough for gaze to fall on the concerned look in his dark orbs and the mole on his cheek and nose.

"y-yeah i'm fine! t-thanks for saving me, i totally ate shit." you joked, a cold sweat running down your spine in utter embarrassment.

"no worries, thankfully i got to you in time. and don't even worry about it, being on ice takes a ton of practice." his arm still holding onto yours helping you get up. he guides you both back to the wall.

"you're really good at ice skating by the way, like crazy good" he let out a soft chuckle at your compliment blushing. you knew he probably heard that a million times before.

"thank you, it's y/n right?" you nod.

"can i ask why you quit? wonyoung told me about how you used to compete but left to focus on school," the echos of the group's chatter and laugher being background noise to your conversation.

"yeah that's the main reason. i guess that's the simple explanation i give people..." his voice trailing, as if there's more to the story. you raise your eyebrows at him, hinting at him to keep explaining.

“it got pretty lonely in all honesty. competing i mean. i made friends through skating and stuff but when i trained and performed in a competition…i was alone through it all. it made me start to dislike the sport all together…” he sighed. “…and that was really hard for me. and i decided to step down from competing and just skate as a hobby now.”

he saw your solemn expression and reassured you the best way he could. “but it’s good now. truly. i think skating in a setting like this, with friends and just having fun healed my relationship with it.” you both looked out to the group, laughing in unison seeing ni-ki chase jake excitedly.

“basically the best way i can describe it being on the ice now feels like reuniting with an old friend…” sunghoon expresses, putting his hands in his jacket pockets.

“wow, i had no idea. thank you for telling me. for what it’s worth, i think you’re really brave.” you caught him tilting his head with a questioning look.

“well, i mean it takes a lot of courage to give up sometimes. especially something you put so much time and energy into…i feel like so many people think it's automatically a waste or a shame to give something up. but sometimes its just a redirection and sometimes its for the better.”

“y-yeah, exactly…” sunghoon looked at you stunned. you’re the first person to openly and fully understand his story and he didn’t even need to explain it to you his reasoning.

“i think you’re the first person who actually understands.”

you hummed in delight, smiling at him. “looks like we’ll get along pretty well”

“yeah i guess so” he smiles back.

you could feel the sincerity and warmth in his smile. it was different than the ones he gave you earlier. it was a smile you wanted to see again and again.

since that day at jake’s birthday, you and sunghoon have been inseparable. he was your best friend and you trusted him more than anyone else in the world.

he was reliable, he understood you in every way, and he accepted you even at your lowest—not judging you about your past.

you and sunghoon slept over at each other’s apartments all the time, even having each other’s a spare key.

sunghoon crashed at your place that previous night, you two pulling an all-nighter studying and your apartment being closer to campus than his. you two would sleep in each other’s bed but always staying on each other’s side—simply sleeping side by side, most of the time with your backs facing one another.

he had class earlier than you—his dreaded phone alarm going off, both of you stirring awake.

you pulled the covers over your head, groaning at the awful triggering sound of the alarm as sunghoon shut it off. he laughed quietly at your misery.

“hoon, why the fuck did you sign up for an 8am calculus class. who even voluntarily does that…”

"guess i'm a masochist," he sarcastically states, stretching and letting out a yawn. he reaches over your half-awake body, still covered by the blanket still to grab his glasses off your nightstand.

he basically puts all his body weight on top of you, borderline crushing you in the process dramatically reaching towards the table, a mischievous smirk on his face fully aware of his actions.

"hoon! ughhhh you're so annoying, you're crushing me" your voice muffled under the sheet. he laughs, amused by teasing you especially early in the morning when you're the grumpiest.

"sorry my bad" laughter still littering his voice. when you finally feel his weight off your body, you pull down the sheet from over your head.

you didn't realize sunghoon was still hovering over you, his arms on either side of your upper body. his gaze held something different in it, something you've never seen in his eyes before.

was there something in the air? were you starting to fall ill?

you and sunghoon joked around all the time and were in close proximity of each other all the time. maybe seeing each other at embarrassing moments one too many times, but this felt different.

the blue tint of the morning light peeking through your curtains illuminated his figure above you. the white tank top he always wore to sleep emphasized the contours of his defined arms, the thin silver chain adorning his collarbones reflected specs of light. and his messy hair and glasses wasn't helping your suddenly and unconsciously racing heart.

he was close. like really close. maybe too close for two people that were just friends. the air around you two felt thick and it was like you were holding your breath, maybe you were.

sunghoon slowly raised his hand, using his finger to brush a stray hair away from your face. and you swear his gaze wandered from your wide eyes to your lips. his touch lingered down to trace your jaw slightly.

he suddenly pulls away from your body, rising from the bed. he grabs his hoodie draped over your desk chair pulling it over his head and walking towards the bathroom—as if nothing had happened.

— should i continue writing?

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@gudkc @enha-stars @dimplewonie

thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3

reblogs, likes, comments & shares are always appreciated!!

[punkkture]

only his

you were just being sweet, its not your fault he took it the wrong way. but you should be grateful that he was doing this for you . . he was just trying to keep you safe.

part one ⋆.˚ part two

simon riley x f!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ , kidnapper!simon , taboo material , degradation, age difference , size difference , implied ddlg dynamics , pet play , sadism , simon is mean asf

c.ai bot

“you are home sweetie.”

you dont know why but that made it all ache even worse. made it ache worse than when he put the collar around your neck - than when he forced you to sit on his lap and drink whatever roofie he had mixed. the tears came out harder as you laid on the floor by his feet.

simon’s shoulders relaxed a little at this. his rough hand came up and started to brush up and down your back. feeling the ridges of your spine that were a little more prominent as the weeks had passed. his hands working in an attempt to comfort you instead of grabbing you.

“theres no need to cry. i’ve kept you for a reason. its not like i’m going to kill you.”

heart picking up, he could see the shift in your demeanor. how you were teetering between that docility and the true emotions you wanted to let out. he knew he won when he heard the shakiness in your voice. “what’s that supposed to mean?” your lips spoke. even if your words held threat, he knew he was on the right path with the way you pulled your tone.

his dense fingers continued to move up and down your spine, giving gentle and methodical touches as they went. his face held no expression. “it means you have the privilege of being mine. you should be grateful.”

your skin shivered and created goosebumps at his touch. not sure how to react to it. it was all so scary. you didnt know what to say back. how were you supposed to feel grateful in a moment like this? he took you from your life.

simon had to figure this out. he had to figure out how to get you to crack. to crave him and yearn for him. looking at him like he was a protector. because whether you saw it that way or not, he was. he is your protector.

he wanted nothing more than to have you give in. to stop struggling and start asking him to hold you. to start seeing him as a sanctuary, a safe place to come home to.

his hand finally stopped those gentle movements he used to draw you in. those fingers coming around to the side of your face. cupping the length of your jaw and turning your head to look at him. your heart and mind are completely tense and rigid, but your body shows no resistance to him. obedience could be led by a hair.

“say thank you.”

your eyes struggled to meet his. but when he gave a warning tap to your cheek, your pupils full of fear and exhaustion, looked up into his. he looked calm, at peace. “why should i tell you thank you?” you breathed out shakily and quiet.

those fingers adjusted the grip on your face, feeling the warm skin heat his cold fingers. his eyes narrowed, cold and callous. deep, dark, and genuinely never ending. not being able to see where his pupils started or stopped. to you, he always looked like a predator that was completely dilated. you were the little bunny for dinner.

“because i say so. youre mine now, remember that, puppy. be thankful im keeping you instead of selling you to the highest bidder. do you understand me?”

your lips twitched and a small gasp threatened to escape. but all that came out was a small shudder. your eyes were still stuck on his. he was being serious, you could tell. “y-you’d sell me?”

god he loved that voice. simon could’ve groaned at that little whimper in your voice. such a timid little pet.

his grip loosened a little bit as his hand moved to caress your cheek. his touch caring and kind, a complete contrast of his words. he sighed. “only when you piss me off enough to do so. im not in the market of pawning the things i claim, unless they're really ungrateful,” his eyes narrowed again, “are you ungrateful sweetheart?”

simon’s eyes watched your face. watched how you processed everything. how you took it all in. he knew you understood he was being genuine. he was serious enough to actually kidnap you, of course he would be insane enough to sell you. his hand continued to caress your soft skin. he was waiting for your answer.

that expression of his changing from cold and callous to a hint of annoyance. he was starting to get impatient - the answer wasn’t that complicated.

“i said, are you ungrateful?” he asked again.

the frustrated grip and raised voice snapped you back into reality. simon saw the way your eyes focused back onto what was in front of you. “no! no . . . im not ungrateful.” you quickly spoke back. you didn't want to be here, but you’d rather be here than some beaten down warehouse that was turned into a human auction house.

feeling his hand drop from your jaw, release that tight grip - his demeanor shifting of that into a carer again. a satisfied smirk appeared on his cracked lips. his fingers brushing back some of your hair.

“then you should say thank you, puppy. because you have a lot to be thankful for.” he spoke in a much calmer tone.

those eyes boring into you felt like they were starting to burn your skin. “thank you.” your voice is timid and quiet, speaking out of fear. the smirk on his lips grew into a bit of a smile at your response. “see? that wasn't so hard was it sweetie?” he teased a bit, his thumb moving to your bottom lip. rubbing against it and slightly pushing down to examine the pink skin.

　 　. ⋆ ✴︎ ݁ ˖ ˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ . 　

days have passed.

simon hadn’t softened any. it's been two weeks of gruff and agitated energy surrounding you. but today for some reason he seemed to be in an even worse mood. his voice louder and more rigid. those occasional sweet touches he gave were nowhere to be found. he was on edge, it was written all over him, in everything he did. his eyes cold and narrowed at everything, his voice snapping at any word spoken to him. he was pissed, and for no good reason at that.

you seemed to try and figure it out. there were bags under his eyes. he looked exhausted. you both were. it almost was like a standoff between two enemies. constantly. you were on edge, still and taking in his every breath. analyzing the tone of it and the deeper meaning of all his words. hoping to not anger him.

simon hasn’t been able to sleep since you arrived - and the only thing his body seemed to want, was you. tense muscles and breaths that were slicing the air he stepped in front of.

you sat on the floor of his living room. watching him pace around like a caged animal. he was acting like a damn rabid dog. he kept you right on the brink of decent. thrown into a pair of his boxers and one of his old long sleeve military shirts. that black leather collar still rubbing against the soft skin of your neck. the long leash cording down and around your body like a snake.

thankfully, he had been a little more lenient with keeping the leash so closely attached to his hand, but that didn't mean he would take it off.

this was frustrating. you were frustrating him. those sweet innocent eyes that were looking up at him like he was a monster. that angered him. he was your savior. my god he was saving you from all those awful sins the world harvested. a groan crawled its way up and out of his throat, stopping his pacing movements.

“come here.” he stated. not like a request. just a command. like you were his dog.

the brain in your head was working on primal intuition. when you are put into a scary situation, your body will do whatever it needs to to survive. so your eyes fluttered up to his face and then back down to his neck. it was scary looking him in the eye, you don't look rabid dogs in the eye. you don't look simon riley in the eye.

feeling the leash clank against your skin as your legs twitched to help you stand. they were getting weaker. your body was starting to reject what was happening to it.

he raised his hand and pointed to the floor in front of him. “no. not like that. crawl to me. you don’t deserve to walk on those legs of yours.”

his voice rang into your ears like how baby bunnies would react to hearing thunder for the first time. paralyzed and frozen in fear with eyes that looked up into the clouds with a sense of caution and longing that the sky wouldn’t do that again - naive hope that the universe would apologize for its outburst of anger.

but just as your body was frozen, the flash of lightning came, accompanying the thunder.

simon’s hand came out, wrapped tightly around the leash and pulled you down to the ground. the yanking of the leather forced you to your hands and knees. your eyes looking up to him - that baby bunny praying to the sky - looking up into those deep and irritated eyes. he was above you, even when he was crouching down the height difference was still prominent. creating a never ending power dynamic that shivered your soul.

he was stressed, he was angry, he felt sleep deprived. he was always watching over you. always making sure you were still here, he needed to put this outlet to good use right now. so on edge that even the small things like how the coffee table looked was making him mad right now. he needed to let off steam. something - someone to give into.

his feet planted themselves onto the ground in front of you. his hand coming to the top of your head, grabbing a fist full of your hair as he lowered himself to your level. you gasped at the sudden contact. shaking and soft hands gripping onto his forearm. your scalp starting to burn from his angered grip. he crouched down, his breath against your neck.

“you make me so goddamn frustrated.”

little frantic breaths picking up and making you panic more. “i-i didn't do anything?” your brows furrowed into a pathetic and worried curve. his lips moved closer to your ear, his fingers tightening around your hair. “you're making me on edge, and it's driving me up a wall.” he spoke.

your eyelids blinked in confusion. then why am i here? why is he keeping me here? just let me go!

“then why am i still here?” you breathed out, quiet and docile.

those cracked lips of his moved from your ear to your neck. they gently nipped at the skin before he spoke again. “because i don't want to get rid of you. you may be a pain in the ass, but i need you.” his mouth started to tenderly press and nip at your neck. leaving sticky open mouth kisses.

your body stiffened. but he had been so rough and sharp the last couple days, you hated to admit the sweet and gentle touches almost felt welcomed. it was better than him hitting you and tying you to a pole in the basement. simon’s voice wasn't as icy as before his commands. your soft hair in his fingers and the warm feeling of your skin against his lips helped calm his aggravated mood. it was like the perfect dosage of oxycodone. calming and relaxing him just enough to barely blink his eyes all the way closed. just enough to get him to not be so pent up about tomorrow's worries.

you started to feel safer almost. in this moment in time, it could’ve been worse.

“why?” you spoke after a couple seconds of silence.

“why what?” simon asked in between sucking on your neck. one of his hands pulled your hair a little bit again, forcing your head up towards the ceiling. he needed more of this soft warmth. “why don't i want to get rid of you, or why do i need you?” his teeth gently nipping into the side of your neck and making a small mark. chuckling to himself when he had to pull the collar out of the way so he could really get to the spot he wanted.

“both.”

it wasn't often he talked to you like that. wasn't often he treated you as human. so you took the wins where you could. letting his warm lips and teeth move against your body. trying to keep your voice steady. it was like walking on a frozen lake where you weren’t sure how thick the ice was.

he continued suck and bite at your neck, making sure the area was nice and bruised - marked as his.

“because you make me feel something i haven't felt in a long time, puppy. and because you’re mine. and i don't like to share my things. especially the ones i worked so hard to get.”

a soft wince escaped your lips when his teeth bit a little harder. his lips pulled away, giving a gentle kiss to the spot. you could’ve sworn you felt his thumb caress the hair his hand was so tightly holding. it was sweet. it was affectionate. and he was having an actual conversation with you. not lashing out and teasing, mocking or degrading.

this was new. this was human. one of your hands going to his chest, resting there as if you were asking him to be more gentle. his body shivered at that strange acceptance from you.“why me?” you said softly, asking the question you had been wondering.

the unfamiliar and strange energy between you two was making simon happy. very happy. all those times he was angry and awful to you just made his soft touches so featherlight and desirable. it was making him relax. his teeth let go of the spot on your neck, his tongue gently soothing over it.

after he made sure the spot would leave a deep bruise, he pulled back a little. his eyes looking down at you on the floor, gazing up at him. it warmed his heart and made him smile a little. even he thought about your question for a second. he sighed, and then answered. “you just are. you were sitting in that little library just . . . existing . . and i felt something inside of me break. that was it. you were mine. you still are and forever will be. this is where you belong and i hope you come to accept that, my puppy.”

your eyes looked into his. your neck started to ache from how he was angling your head back. but there was a sense of hope in your eyes. hope that he was human, he was showing you he was human - for a moment if you could pretend the leash wasn't around your neck, this would almost feel normal.

you licked your dry lips, always so cracked now from breathing and panting through your mouth. the seasons cold weather nipping in through the windows . . . but its alright . . he never let you get too close to those anyway.

simon could sense the fear in your breath. the shudders past your pretty lips. those little flutters of caution your eyelashes would blink. this was working perfectly in his favor. if he was brutal six out of seven days, your body would learn to crave that seventh day. it would learn to want him and need him to survive.

in the same sense of how people needed religion. they need faith in something to keep going. one way or another, he was going to figure out how to be your faith.

his gaze softened. his hand letting go of your hair, coming to gently brush against your face, a thumb running over your cheek.

“i know i make you afraid, but thats okay. you wont be afraid forever.” his face came down to lean close to yours, his voice a low tone. “you’ll get used to it. you’ll get used to me.”

even a dog held in captivity for years would still yearn for a soft pet, a good treat the second the opportunity was given.

　 　. ⋆ ✴︎ ݁ ˖ ˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ . 　

it was the next day and you both had gone through the motions of what a normal day was so far. he woke you up early, because he got up early and he needed you to constantly be at his side. he of course had you in a little dog cage when it was bedtime. or anytime he had to go out, which wasn’t often.

a metal dog cage with plush little pink blankets and frills, that attempted to make it more welcoming, adorning it. he always kept two locks on the metal links off the door - so you would never be able to get it undone yourself. but even if you did, he kept it all located in his basement. the only thing down there being your cage and a couple storage bins.

simon knew what he was doing. of course he did. he had been plotting this for months. since the second he saw you and that air was sucked out of his chest he’s been preparing.

in all honesty, you looked forward to bedtime. you were finally left alone to have some thoughts to yourself. and it’s not like it was pitch black down there. he didn’t leave the light on, but the outside lights from the backyard somewhat illuminated the basement.

you were asleep up on the plush mat, a warm fleece blanket wrapping around your cold frame. legs curled up since you couldn’t stretch your legs in the cage.

“good morning puppy,” he calls down the basement stairs. turning on the light and finally getting you out of the dark.

your eyes blinking awake in the harsh light. hearing his footsteps come down the stairs and a few keys rattling. he chuckled when he saw your head bump up against the top of the cage.

“did you sleep well, my dear?” he asked, those dark eyes looking over your form before he crouched down to unlock the padlocks on the cage.

you were tired, mornings were never your thing, especially not with how early he got up. your messy hair nodding along with your head as you gave him a simple answer. cold hands rubbing your tired eyes.

“we’ve got a big day today . . .” simon started while opening the metal door. your ears perked up at his words, sleepy eyes blinking awake and a soft grumble from your lips as he pulled on the leash, getting you out of the cage and into his lap.

“you’re gonna meet some of daddy’s friends today . . . and i trust you’ll be a very good puppy, right?”

ᡣ𐭩 tag list: @vanillarosekiss @pearljwm @redroserabbit

teehee thank u guys ily

[velvetvexations]

"Women do traditionally feminine stuff because they are afraid of the men in their lives." Hilarious, because for me growing up all of the worst misogyny I faced was at the hands of other women, usually family and friends, and whenever I caved into the pressure to do feminine things I didn't want to it was specifically because I was seeking the approval of other women. None of the men in my life have ever forced femininity on me the way the cis women have. The people who made fun of me for dressing "badly" and not shaving and spread rumors I was secretly a boy were all girls. I kept trying to get into makeup, not because I wanted boys to think I was cute(all the guys who've shown interest in me have actually liked me just fine the way I am), but because I wanted the women around me to see me as one of them and I never felt like I was.

Even when women aren't pressuring me to do girly things I still feel the pressure because I'm the only woman I know who doesn't and it makes me feel like a freak. I don't care what the men around me think, a guy getting weird about my not shaving or wearing makeup would be instantly disqualified from my dating pool without a second thought, being raised a feminist very quickly inoculated me against giving a shit what men think, but the women? My whole life I have been trying so hard to be one of them and it's still hard work to ignore the annoying internalized patriarchal cisheteronormative bullshit in my head making me think I need to be more like them and less like me. And I genuinely don't know if there will ever come a day when I can hang out in a group of women and not feel like an imposter just waiting to be discovered and killed.

And I know that my experiences aren't universal any more than the person who originally said that's are, but like. It's just wild to me that trans people especially will chalk all of the pressure to conform to gender roles up to shitty men and completely ignore how heavily the patriarchy incentivizes women to not only violently police each other's femininity but also destroy ourselves seeking the approval of the very women who are violently policing our femininity.

EXACTLY.

I love cis women who our allies with all my heart and soul, but we need to stop being desperate for their approval. The cis women who DO care about us would be the first to admit they as a category need to do a lot better, so why do we pussyfoot around them being just as horrible to us as cis men can be?

With trans women it feels like we're just trying to link arms under the exact same oppressive patriarchy because it feels like that's what being a woman is, haha yeah, men hate us, I mean they hate us in different ways and you hate us too but what matters above all else is that we're the exact same thing right? Oh, sorry, like seventy percent of you don't believe that and are violently disgusted by the thought of coming anywhere near me? But I also fear men!

And trans men...

"Women are soooo scared of me, yeah you better cover your drink around trans men too, I mean not that I would do anything personally, but I could, because I'm a man, and that means I could oppress and hurt you, theoretically!"

Listen, bro, most cis women aren't scared of you, they're laughing at you, and frankly so am I, not because it's impossible for a trans man to be a person who's intimidating, but because you're so needy for validation that you've developed a patriarchy fetish you can't turn off.

None of this is to say we should ignore the crimes of cis men or that cis women aren't also another marginalized class, and again, I love cis women who're trans allies, they're amazing, wonderful people and I would never want to leave them behind or seem ungrateful.

[cheshiresense]

Your latest time-travel verse made me rewatch Kyoraku vs Starrk battle over Fake Katakura.

I have to say, over the years, I have forgotten how sad that battle is. The way Starrk mourns even Barragan's death and loses his (already small to begin with) desire to fight after it... The only reason the guy followed Aizen was because Aizen gave him... friends😭 A pack. The only reason he fought was to protect that pack. Doesn't matter if that pack consisted of some shady individuals. It was his. The first and only one he got in all his 1000+ years of existence. He had no desire to strike down his enemies - didn't kill Ukitake, proposed Love and Rose to retreat with their lives... In a way, he and Ichigo are very much alike in that sense.

Starrk was too honorable and naive and paid for that.

And Shunsui killed Lilynette😭 It is so heartrending when Starrk calls out to her with no answer...

Shunsui's philosophy, on the contrary, allows him "to be evil" in order to win. Yes, he does not like war, just like Starrk, but IMHO, "as soon as the war starts both sides are at fault" does not mean Shunsui is saying that both sides are wrong in the war and to not fight till you completely disable / kill your opponent. I think, to paraphrase, it means: "As soon as the war start, to win, both sides *will* have to be evil / There are no good people in a war because winning a war requires one to do evil things, so someone who were maybe a good person will have to become evil to win". This philosophy, basically, is "to unbound his hands" (as we say in our language, meaning when something is used to make a person free to act), a workaround that allows him to be ruthless to his opponents, despite his pacifistic nature.

Anyway, emotional rant over. I guess I just wanted to share my pain🥲 I just hope Shunsui killing a part of Starrk's soul and the only family he had will somehow be addressed between them in the future in your fic's universe. I think it's just too huge to leave out. And the only way I can see Starrk never saying anything at all to his Shunsui in TYBW timeline - is because he is THAT much of a sucker for pain and/or THAT much desperate for a genuine connection with somebody.

Starrk is just a really tragic character with a really tragic arc, canonically he was never meant to be saved or have a chance at something better.

I don't know if I'd call him particularly honourable, if only because that doesn't seem like the sort of thing he'd really think about and adhere to as a Hollow who'd spent his whole life in a place like Hueco Mundo, not in the same way a Shinigami would. I think it was more that he just didn't want to kill anyone when he'd already killed so many without ever having a choice in the matter, and now that he did, he didn't want to keep doing that if he didn't absolutely have to. He was definitely a bit naive about it because it was war, and he was up against one of the most powerful and ruthless Shinigami in existence. The moment he decided to hold back, he was destined to lose.

For Shunsui, I agree, he believes that to win a war, people have to get their hands dirty, and you can't do that and still remain "good". I also think he thinks that it's disrespectful to not do everything in his power to win, because even if that means throwing away his honour, to do anything less means risking the lives of those he's fighting that war for.

Which ties into why I personally think Starrk doesn't really blame Shunsui for Lilynette's death. I think Starrk is smart enough and similar enough to Shunsui to understand him. And why blame Shunsui when he can blame himself? He's the one who held back from the start, he didn't fight as hard as he could, he even had the chance to kill Shunsui if he'd just gone down to finish the job after shooting him instead of just backing off after disabling him, or he could've even shot him somewhere more leathal like the back of the head instead of the shoulder/chest, because at their level, which Shinigami or Hollow wouldn't survive a simple injury like that? He would've also been able to sense full well that Shunsui's reiatsu signature hadn't disappeared. So that choice is on him, and he paid for it with Lilynette's life.

I also think Starrk didn't have much conviction or resolve, I mean I don't think most of the Espada really believed in Aizen's cause, they just followed him for more power or because Aizen tricked them or forced them, and prob with a side of hypnosis to pave the way. So Starrk didn't even have anything concrete to believe in and fight for aside from a debt he felt he had to repay, and that was quickly wearing away when he saw how Aizen didn't give a shit about them.

So overall, he went into battle against Shunsui without any desire to fight or kill because he thought he didn't really have anything he wanted enough to fight for, right up until he lost Lilynette and realized that yeah he did have something precious to lose after all. In contrast, Shunsui was fighting for Soul Society and to protect his fellow Shinigami, and at the time, he definitely understood that far better than Starrk did.

If Starrk had survived, I think he would've understood that too, plus he just doesn't have the kind of temper that lashes out and casts blame on others due to excess emotion; rather, he has the sort of analytical mind to comprehend the cause and effect of things pretty instantly. That would all play a big part in why he wouldn't blame Shunsui for doing what he had to do to take Starrk out. He and Lilynette were one, Shunsui would've had to kill both of them sooner or later, otherwise he might as well lie down and give up, Starrk wasn't exactly an opponent he could take it easy with.

In the time travel verse here, Idk if I'd make it a particularly huge thing, because for Starrk it's been like 10+ years, I imagine he's laid that ghost to rest a long time ago even if the loss still hurts sometimes, plus it's not TBTP!Shunsui who killed her, and i think he would've hashed out the issue with TYBW!Shunsui already at the beginning. Of course, TBTP!Shunsui is bound to find out about it eventually, which could be interesting to poke at.

But in Take What's Broken (Make It Whole), it'll definitely come up sooner or later. Even if Starrk doesn't bring it up first, Shunsui will, and even if there's no blame, I imagine they would at least have to talk about it going forward.

[myechoecho]

When the Phone Rings, ep 8

I have so many thoughts on this one.

Sa Eon avoids Hee Joo's question about being a good cook. He may say it's sincerity, but I suspect it has much to do with him being forced to eat foods he did not like. I do love that the communication is more open between them, even if Sa Eon is hiding who he is. I laughed at Hee Joo mentioning them no sleeping together and Sa Eon pouncing on that point.

Sa Eon mentioned a plan, which I am thinking he's been methodically working on a way to break free of his own prison. Hee Joo is not part of that plan, so he has been protecting her this entire time.

The back hug was adorable, and we get Sa Eon's inner thoughts which parallel many of Hee Joo's. He fears that she will not accept his true self or forgive him. Hee Joo dreaming that he's left means she has insecurities around him. I adored the spooning in bed, which is a contrast to an earlier episode where they faced one another.

I did like Sa Eon chasing down Hee Joo and Sang Woo. It was surprising to learn that Sang Woo also knows that Hee Joo can speak. Sang Woo is definitely shocked that Hee Joo just goes with Sa Eon so he does not know about their relationship. He also seems genuinely confused at Sa Eon's suspicions about him.

My favourite scene, hands down, is the one by the side of the road. Hee Joo explains why she's scared, why she has doubts and that she thinks she'll be left alone when she learns his secret. What she needs to be reassured is for him to come completely clean. They both need to share their worst in order to be stronger. Sa Eon does not come clean, though he definitely gives some hints.

In the end, what reassures Hee Joo completely is the company photos where Sa Eon's gaze is always on her.

I am actually very invested in the other plot about the past. I genuinely do like In A, and I do think she is on Hee Joo's side. She definitely does not like her step mom and I don't think she's thrilled about her dad. I do also like that she does not pressure Hee Joo to talk.

Kidnapper guy sniffing up Sa Eon and saying he smells nice further still says to me that he is the OG Sa Eon. Our Sa Eon clearly worked around fish and the kidnapper has a fishy smell. Add the fact that our Sa Eon's "parents" recognized the description of the bi coloured eyes and mom gave a coded message.

However, I am less convinced of my previous theory of our Sa Eon having a twin. The pictures we see in his childhood home are only of him. The twins are still key though. Whomever Sa Eon saw being drowned by who I am guessing is the Chairman is one of the twins. The one who is the "master" of OG Sa Eon is the other twin. While I am still suspicious of the assistant, he seems significantly younger that Sa Eon.

Also, wtf happened in the past? i have so many questions:

Did the grandfather kidnap boys from the orphanage, whom he assumed no one would miss, so that OG Sa Eon would have something to torture/kill and then they'd dump the bodies in the lake?

Why did our Sa Eon's father/grandfather go along with it? It seems like he knew and he let the lake be a dumping ground?

Why did he let our Sa Eon go?

Why did Chairman Paik go to Hee Joo's step father for help, ON HIS KNEES, with a gun to his head?

Why did Hee Joo's stepfather help? Why did he make the deal and what does it have to do with the accident that killed his son and caused his daughter's deafness?

Did the Chairman know who was behind the accident and Hee Joo's stepfather was able to take revenge in his own way?

Why is everyone worried about THAT PROBLEM being still alive?

How did the grandfather/father know HE was still alive?

Who tf is HE, exactly?

I suppose I could be wrong about the kidnapper being the OG Sa Eon but I don't think so?

[permanentlydramatic]

Tumblr helped me cope with heartbreak, and now it's helping me share my indescribable joy.

a bit random but my blog turned 2 years old yesterday. I don't even remember it turning 1 lol, so it's a bit of mind jumble how I even got here.

anyways, two years ago I joined Tumblr as a way to cope with my heartbreak about an unrequited crush i've had for 6 years and also because Tumblr's this cool, sort of underground platform (at least in my country) that I don't know anyone in, which meant I could totally post whatever lovesick and cringe poetic bs I could think of at any moment and nobody would care.

anyways, what I really wanted to say is that now, two years later, the guy I had a crush on for years confessed to me and we've been dating since early this year. we've been officially gf and bf for 5 months, and he's the only, and I mean 1000% the sole reason why I started writing poetry, and even tho in the beginning it was all overdramatic cringe teenage lovey dovey nonsense, I actually grew to genuinely love poetry for what it is. I was even voted as "Most Literary Senior" in my senior high school graduation ball, despite me being in STEM haha.

my first few posts had like 1-3 engagements (which was insane to me and still is), and eventually I reached almost 40 engagements from complete strangers that somehow found them relatable. I still remember the first few comments and reblogs I've ever had. so if this ever reaches you somehow, thank you for interacting with me!

idk I just thought it was cute to share this little life of mine. to whoever is reading, I hope you have a good day :))

[mossangelll]

The cait and jinx fic IS SO GOOD OMG, I loved how you portrayed cait as more obsessed with having a “perfect” spouse and how that was driven by her stress and trauma, I thought it was a really interesting take on her and I loved it, the idea that she is doing this (giving the reader books, dressing them ect) and presenting it as a favour is just so cait

fic is here!

TYSM!

honestly i was scared that the way i wrote cait would be too wooden and boring to read (still think it is kinda but i’m hoping to get better at writing full fics in time!) so it’s great to hear that you loved it :)

cait is definitely a control freak in my eyes - i mean, the minute she was born she was destined to live not for herself, but for the kiramman house. it must be pretty hard for her to reconcile that she’ll never have an identity separate from that. even when she tries to be an individual and go against whats expected of her by becoming an enforcer, her mum immediately tries to sabotage her career 😭

so what does she do? kidnap reader!!

i think cait is kind, but at the end of the day she comes from a elite house in piltover. she’s gonna be living in her own bubble even if she isn’t explicitly aware of her own biases. this is why i think she kidnaps someone from zaun: she can still feel superior and “educated”. also the fact that disappearances of zaunites isn’t a priority for the enforcers.

at one point the reader feels weirded out by the fact that cait is ‘serving’ them since it just completely disrupts the hierarchy. imo, what cait’s doing actually reinforces the hierarchy - everything the reader does is dictated by cait: the clothes they wear, the books they read, the mansion they’re currently locked up in lmao. i hc that cait’s family is aware of what she’s doing but sweep it under the rug bcs it’s more convenient for them. everything is done bcs cait wants it that way, not bcs she wants to wait on hand and foot for reader.

like you said. she genuinely thinks she’s doing reader a favour tbh like ‘wow, i bet theyre so happy i saved them from the chaos and that they get to be in higher society 😍’.

all the cards are against reader when cait’s involved.