#I need to know this for very important things

[hhbluedynamite]

...Oh, dear God...

Do I have some words to say to those people villainizing these characters...

First and foremost, I haven't seen much of Beastars (I think I've only seen the first four episodes), am barely involved in the Sonic franchise, never seen Homestuck, and don't watch...whatever show that lady is in (Doctor Who?), so I can't really say anything for the characters from those shows.

But as for the others...

Mabel: A...CHILD!!! Children are inherently selfish! It makes sense for her to act the way she does (and Dipper's the same way! He's selfish too!). She was also MANIPULATED BY A LITERAL DEMON to give him a very dangerous portal that she had no knowledge of its importance because such knowledge was withheld from her! But what about Dippy Fresh? She's basically replacing Dipper! Mabel didn't make Dippy Fresh! It was Mabelland! And she was also under its influence too! Mabel Pines was a literal child! You are villainizing a kid for being a kid who was scared of change and growing up (something I relate to, honestly)

Rose Quartz/PD: Oh boy...where to start. Before abandoning her old life, Rose was emotionally abused by the very Gems that were basically her sisters/mother! She was belittled, neglected, felt like she had no place there despite wanting to be a part of what was basically the family business. Did Rose make questionable decisions? Oh, yeah. Big time. But, does that make her a bad person? Hell, no. She's just flawed. Which is a very...human thing.

Beatrice: ...Really? People are villainizing her? Have they not played her route? She's frustrated that she's stuck in a small dying town, she lost her mom to cancer like two years before the main story, is basically getting sexually harassed by someone she can't fire, and her dad is kinda neglectful about her needs. I would be bitchy too!

Gangle: ...Are you fucking serious? We're villainizing someone whose dreams were freakin' crushed for being "unrealistic" and spent an entire episode going through mania? The woman whose Digital design is a representation of masking your actual emotions, including depression? And she was told that she was annoying and was better sad?! Who was so, damn close to Abstracting (which can be seen as a euphemism to suicide)??!!!

Did these characters do questionable acts or say things they shouldn't have said? Yes. Does it excuse their behavior? Not really. Does that make them villains? Hell, no. These are flawed characters, like everyone else!

...Sorry for the rant, to the readers and to the person who made this post. I've just seen this a lot with Mabel and Rose Quartz and it pisses me off...and I didn't know that it happened to Bea and now Gangle?!?!?

I have opinions about the recent gangle hate

[spatialwave]

Jayce Talis as a Husband & Father | Headcanons

➸ ask: "hiii i was wondering if you could do post s2 arcane headcanons for Jayce?? like jayce x wife!reader that have a newborn baby??" ➸ pairing: jayce talis x wife!reader ➸ word count: 923 words ➸ tags: mdni! sfw, fluff, comfort, mentions of jayce’s trauma, pregnancy, headcanons, childbirth, parenthood, canon-divergent ending. ➸ notes: i went really poetic with this idk why. also this definitely heightened my already terrible baby fever……. please for the love of god send me more asks about girldad jayce, i am begging you. i love writing these.

When you met Jayce Talis, you fell madly in love with him almost instantly—as did he with you. Within the first six months of your relationship, he proposed to you with a ring that he’d smithed himself, adorned with a hextech gemstone that sparkled unlike anything you’d ever seen. Of course, you said yes… and moved in within that same week.

Living with Jayce Talis meant dealing with the aftershocks of what he’d gone through during his time in the arcane and subsequent war. With a permanently injured leg and mental wounds that left him cursed by night terrors, you were they by his side to help him overcome his past. You were the rock he hadn’t known he needed, the one who encouraged him to keep fixing what he’d broken (and not without his partner, Viktor.)

Although he’d gone through hell and back, he found joy and happiness in you again. No longer was he filled with anger and guilt for allowing his naivety to take control of what was right—all Jayce wanted was to be happy. With you. 

When you found out you were pregnant, Jayce was over the moon, excited and horribly nervous. He constantly worried whether or not he’d be a good father, and the absence of his own in his life made him uncertain. He would spend countless evenings with his mother, asking her hundreds of questions about parenthood, which either made it better or worse depending on what he wanted to know.

However, the worry washed away when he held his little girl in his arms—weighing shy of six pounds and so tiny in his arms. It was a beautiful sight, a rugged man with messy hair, scarred arms, and calloused hands holding the love of his life.

Your daughter brings out a side of Jayce that Viktor told you is reminiscent of his life when they first met all those years ago: gentle, curious, nervous and much too excited. 

Jayce is messy and clumsy in his parenting, learning as he goes, but he is so dedicated. He’s used to being covered in stains but no longer in oil and soot from his work. Now it’s spit-up and dried milk… among other things. And to you, he’s never looked sexier than when he’s a mess.

Even though he’s still a councillor and working with Viktor on restabilizing hextech, he makes time for his family. The days of late-night tinkering in the lab or long council meetings are in the past because there is nothing more important to him than you two.

He is a very overprotective dad, constantly worrying about the little things and often getting sleepless nights because he checks on her one too many times to make sure sleeping soundly in her crib. He baby-proofs your home with everything he can make—doorstops, locks for the cabinets and removing any of his work from his home to the lab so there are no accidents. It’s cute, but considering that your daughter is shy of two months old, the baby-proofing tends to get in the way, but you let him. ‘Father knows best’ is a term he coins and uses, much to your annoyance.

Jayce always splits the tasks of parenting between you two but is never opposed to taking on more than you if you need the rest. As you slowly transition to include bottle feeding in your routine, he takes on nightly shifts for you. You find him asleep a few times, sitting up against the crib with a blanket covered in spit-up draped over his shoulder and an empty bottle in his hand.

He is a sentimental man. He makes a locket that he wears as a necklace every day, tucked beneath his clothing, and shows it off to anyone that he can—a photo of you and your daughter inside it.

You swear you’ve never been more in love with Jayce than you are now. A loving father and husband who doesn’t let his new role as a parent overshadow his love for you.

He’s just as romantic as he was the first time he took you on a date. A month after you gave birth and were far too stir-crazy to be at home any longer, Ximena watched your daughter, and he took you out on a date that reminded you of simpler times. Showering you with gentle touches and kisses that set your heart on fire and reignited your passion.

Jayce noticed how your confidence dropped since the pregnancy. He finds you looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to love the body that grew your daughter, hands over your still-rounded stomach and tracing the stretchmarks. Changes that look so large in your eyes go unnoticed by him, and he makes sure to cherish your body as a reminder that his love for you hasn’t changed.

Every night in bed, he kisses your stomach, your hips, your thighs—peppering your body with kisses and massaging you as he worships your strength and beauty, silently thanking you for bringing your daughter into the world. 

As with any relationship, there are good days and bad. Some days go so smoothly that you wonder if you both were naturally inclined to be the perfect parents. Then come the days when all you can do is argue, overcome with the stress, fears and worries of marriage and parenthood.

But you make it through because to be loved by Jayce Talis is to feel love unlike anything you have experienced before, and that is worth the hardships.

[agatalunar]

new year, new me… ㅤㅤ𖤓 · What will 2025 bring you? ㅤㅤ· 𖤓

merry christmas everybody 🤍🎄 sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy this last reading of the year, and as always thank u for your support… it would be a pleasure for me if you let me know if the reading resonated with you so do not hesitate to send me a message, comment or reblog, it will make me immensely happy

- choose the one with which you feel most connected -

Pile 1… 2… 3…

ㅤㅤ

𖤓 Pile 1

cards: five of pentacles, six of wands, five of wands, nine of pentacles, five of coups

Independence is a great word for this year that is beginning. You are going to start facing the world on your own, so you must act with certainty. It is a year of a lot of personal growth in relation to how you want to present yourself to the world, what you offer.

“Adult life is no longer a game.” You may be a very, very young person or you may not have had the opportunity to do things on your own, but if you really want the things you want, it is important that you take action.

It is a year in which your soul is going to take very different paths in relation to the past and all of them will be good if you know how to choose them and know how to handle them. For some reason it is as if you are embarking on the path of being a CEO/ a type of boss (?)

Getting out of your comfort zone, recognizing your potential and having security and confidence will lead you to success. Use your mind but also your heart, do not let greed or ego guide you. You may want this to help your family's finances, but you are also doing it for yourself. You deserve to get everything you want and the universe is helping you get it in 2025. Be patient and don't despair. Everything comes at the best time.

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Happy than ever - Billie Eilish, This will be - Natalie Cole, “we don't play around”, Let me - Zayn, Whatever - Oasis, “Im freeee”, applause, decisions, “all action is reaction”, being latinx or latin descent, depend on others financially, Cuba or Miami, 565, 6, 3, 333, “I used to pray for what I have today”, Simple - Kali Uchis, Jenny from the block - Jennifer Lopez, emigrate-migrate, vision board

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 1 ♡

𖤓 Pile 2

cards: eight of pentacles, knight of swords, the moon, knight of cups, the dead

2025 brings you a lot of internal learning. Your guides want to communicate with you. Dive into the spiritual sea of ​​your soul and life purpose. Dare to see what has been hidden for a long time.

You will know and recognize yourself from a deeper perception, you may need to connect with your past lives, understand where certain repetitive patterns come from, your soul needs to be healed and there is no one else who can do it but yourself.

If for a long time you have wanted to buy crystals, tarot cards, learn more about astrology, meditate... 2025 is the perfect year to carry all that out.

Do not set expectations, enter that path with a blank mind. "Reborn." You will become the most authentic version of yourself when you manage to recognize the spirituality in which you live. Do journaling, automatic writing, guided meditations... etc. And remember that healing the soul is also about eating well, surrounding yourself with people who have positive intentions, not being hard on yourself and just taking life easy.

This process will also change your style, you will want to dress differently, your observation of yourself will change completely and everything will be for your highest good. Your spiritual guides can't wait for you to take that big step... "do it, do it baby"

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Frailty - Violent vira, 18, 8, “save yourself”, third eye chakra, role models, Very special - Chris brown, Nobody - mitski, Conquest of Paradise- Vangelis, watch things on the laptop at 3 am, Chachachá - Josean Log, Blueprint - Tyler Jane, blue light

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 2 ♡

𖤓 Pile 3

cards: the chariot, the magician, knight of cups, eight of wands, the moon

“Just take it easy, baby, enjoy it”. Literally just have fun, 2025 is a year where you shouldn't think about things so much, “don't overthink it”. Act like a child, enjoy the moment, don't worry about what might happen. But just because you let yourself be guided by the universe doesn't mean you have to leave your inner voice behind, use your intuition, have faith and trust but act consciously.

DANCE, connect with your inner child. Don't care what people might say, it's your life and you decide how to live it. Dare to challenge the rules you've been forced to follow. Connect more with music, it may be a way for you to heal or simply relax.

Be your best friend, no one will know you as well as you know yourself. Take care of yourself in all aspects, physically, energetically and above all emotionally and mentally. Transform nostalgia into healing potential.

Just as you act when no one is watching, act the same way when everyone is watching; 2025 will be a year of great satisfaction for you, the universe embraces you and pats you on the shoulder so that you take the next step.

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

BTBT - B.I, 222, False starts - Zayn, “trust me, you’re not gonna crash”, butterfly, Felling good - Nina Simone, wings, Alma mia - Natalia lafurcade, cherry, strawberry, makeup for children, 2000s, Deceptacon - Le Tigre, blue shirt with white stripes, party decoration, dancing in the kitchen, rock, music from your childhood or what your dad listened to, Rock you like a hurricane - Scorpions, As it was - Harry Styles, “be a diva”, You & Me - Jennie, Opera House - Cigarettes after sex, Modern Love - David Bowie, The breakfast club

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 3 ♡

[thoughtfulfiction]

The P Word

Author’s Note: Two fics in two days?

In 2013, Joe sent a dm to a recruiting analyst for scout.com, asking which camps he should attend because he was flying under the national radar.

Most four star recruits get about 20 college offers. He had 12.

At Ohio State he sat on the bench for three years, only gaining attention as a scout team player who would later have to graduate in three years just so he could transfer and get some playing time elsewhere.

That same scout team player would become the best player in college football and a Heisman trophy winner and the number one pick in the 2020 NFL Draft. A few years after that fateful private message to Dave Burk.

Robin Burrow had been there the entire time. Through every shining moment and the times that seemed rather dark. She drove two hours to do his laundry just to make sure he was physically and mentally healthy when he lived in Columbus, has attended every game since he began playing sports, made him snickers salad when he tore his ACL…and when he tore his scapholunate ligament in his wrist. All in all, she’s been a constant presence in the midst of all of the mayhem. To be frank, there’s nowhere else in the world she’d rather be than between him and anything that could possibly serve to harm him or cause him any pain, no matter how old he is.

That included protecting him from himself.

The last few months had been filled with joy. After the news of his engagement, the wedding planning process had been smooth. You and Robin along with your mom, had gone to several appointments together and Joe had even added his input in most of the details without you feeling like you had to twist his arm and force him to participate.

You were now in the home stretch of the most important day of your lives. Less than two months from now you’d be saying “I do” to the love of your life. And Robin had taken her role as future mother in-law very seriously. You knew that Joe was a mama’s boy, his brothers much older than him with their own mom, and it was clear to anyone with eyes that he was Robin’s pride and joy. But not in a creepy way that would get them to star in a TLC show. It was just very evident that she was proud of him and his achievements and that she didn’t mess around when it came down to business.

After one of your dress fittings, she pulled you aside. “There’s one quick thing I need to mention to you. You’ll be getting a formal document in the mail in the next few days. Nothing huge, just a formality that Peter and the team drafted up for you to sign. I hate the word prenup but that’s essentially what this is.” She said in a matter of fact way. “We just need to make sure to dot our i’s and cross our t’s if that makes sense. Get the boring stuff out of the way so that we can focus on showering you and Joey with our love on your special day.”

“No that makes complete sense, just send it over and I’ll sign whatever you need me to. Thank you Robin seriously, for everything. You’ve made planning this entire thing a breeze.”

She shakes her head with a genuine smile, giving you a warm hug. “This has been an honor, I’m so happy for the both of you sweetie. I’ll see you in a few days for brunch at your house? The kids are so excited they won’t stop talking about it.”

“Yes absolutely, I can’t wait either it’s been so long since we’ve gotten both families together it’ll be really fun.”

There weren’t many opportunities for your family to interact with Joe’s and vice versa, unless everyone met at a football game but that wasn’t exactly quality family bonding. That felt more like a collective screaming match where the adults pregamed with beer and the kids wore his jersey. Most of them didn’t really know what was going on in the actual game. So you and Joe were going to host both sets of parents, all of your siblings and their kids in order for everyone to really spend time together before the wedding.

A few days later, you were finalizing the menu with the catering company when Joe came home.

“It’s gonna be like Cheaper by the Dozen in here tomorrow,” he notes, grabbing a Body Armour from the fridge. “Are we sure we’re ready for this?”

“We kinda have to be. Should we do smoked salmon or shrimp crostinis?” You held up one of each and let him examine them. He snagged the salmon one first and took a bite then did the same with the shrimp.

“Definitely the salmon. What time is everyone getting here?” The catering people jot down their last notes and head out the door after you and Joe thanked them.

You could tell he was going to need time to mentally prepare in case he got overstimulated. “They’ll be here at 1pm, so you can probably get an early workout in and take a nap afterwards,” walking over to him on the other side of the counter, holding his face in your hands. “I know you get cranky when you’re tired and Uncle Joe needs to be at his best tomorrow because the kids will need a QB for their flag football game.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, sticking out his lips that are begging to be kissed. You happily grant his wish, pressing your lips against his, giving him a quick smooch. He asks for a few more, about to get lost in a full make out session when a stack of papers on the counter catch his eye. Joe pulls back so abruptly that your face smacks against his chest.

“Sorry baby,” he cradles your head, reaching around you to grab the piece of paper that’s on top. You take that as your cue to go after his second apology for nearly giving you a concussion. That chest is a brick wall.

The more he skims the words, the tighter his grip gets on the little sheet and the confused look on his face deepens. “Um…what is this?”

“What is what?” You give him a look that matches his energy.

He holds up the paper. “This. What is this? Where did you get it from?”

You look around the room to make sure you aren’t getting Punk’d. “Wait—are you being serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking,” it wasn’t a question. He’s legitimately starting to look upset. “Who gave this to you?”

“Joe,” you let out a dry chuckle, “your mom did. Said it was a formality and that I should sign it and give it to her so she can hand it off to Peter so your lawyers can process it.” When your fiancé continues to stand there motionless in the middle of the room, that’s when it hits you. “Did—did you not know about this?”

He usually has something to say about everything, so watching him silently shake his head is a little scary. Joe places the first page of the prenuptial agreement on the table with a heavy sigh, visibly trying to compose himself. The man had the patience of a saint, known to have blow ups on the field but that was Football Joe. Off the field Joe was calm and rarely ever let things get to him. You’d probably only heard him yell twice in the entire time you’ve been together. And now he was dead quiet. You didn’t know what to do with that.

“Joe, your mom is just trying to protect you. Get this out of the way so that we can—”

“Please don’t try to defend her right now,” his tone was laced with venom, a seething anger you hadn’t seen before and weren’t too keen on getting familiar with. “I don’t like that this was just drafted, printed and handed to you without my permission. She and Peter shouldn’t have done that. And my mom definitely shouldn’t have ambushed you with this.”

Now he was being dramatic. “Robin didn’t ambush me! She told me a couple days ago and I thought you knew so I didn’t mention it.”

“I would never do that to you,” he says with a pain in his voice that makes your chest clench. “WE, you and I should be talking about this. Not my mom and Peter. Jesus.” He rested his arms on the counter, running his hands through his hair.

You hated seeing him get worked up like this, crossing the room again to place a comforting hand on his back. “Why don’t you talk to her tomorrow, I’m sure she didn’t mean to upset you. She most likely just thought she would do this for you so you didn’t need to worry about it.”

“That’s the thing, this isn’t something she should be doing for me. We’re getting married. You’re going to be my wife. There’s no reason she needs to be handing you documents on my behalf like you’re some fucking stranger. I don’t care how ‘busy’ I am. You come first.” You can feel the tension in his muscles even when he stands up to his normal height. He’s really trying to keep it together, giving you an empty kiss on the cheek before heading into his office to cool off. An hour later you head up to check on him, assuming he has his headphones on and can’t hear you, you find that the door is locked.

Tomorrow’s brunch is going to be very interesting to say the least.

Joe surprised you by being in bed by the time you came upstairs to get ready to go to sleep. You thought for sure he’d be on a run to clear his mind. As soon as you climbed in next to him he put his phone away, wrapping his arms around you and giving your body a squeeze.

Whatever private meeting he had with himself must have done the trick because he was actually letting you be the big spoon for once. His touch was soft and intentional, the previously icy aura was liquified and only warm and cuddly Joe remained. “Are you okay?” You asked him and he nodded without looking at you. He just interlocked your fingers in his before sitting up.

“Switch me.” You knew the little spoon wouldn’t last long. “That’s better,” he sighs kissing your head, feeling at home with your arm draped across his waist.

After a few seconds of silence he mutters, “I’m so sorry this is happening. Are you sure you want to sign up for a lifetime of this?”

You look up to meet Joe’s gaze to see if he’s trying to be funny. “A lifetime of you? I can’t think of anything I would want more. The rest of it is just extra, the good and the bad. As long as I have you I don’t care.”

His shoulders sag once again in relief, “good.” Joe peppers a few kisses on your neck, making his way up to your jaw, taking his sweet time until he got to your lips. A joyous hum leaves his mouth as the kiss grows deeper, each swipe of his tongue against yours makes you feel dizzy…love drunk. Nothing compares to the way that Joe kisses you, sensually careful but hungry at the same time, almost as if this is the last thing he’ll ever get to do. This kiss is different, it’s a promise to always protect you, to never let the outside noise sway what his heart knows is true. He’s found the one person in the world that consistently makes his heart sing and no one—not even his mom—will have the final say. And he was going to make that very clear.

When Joe sluggishly came down the stairs the next day rubbing his eyes after his nap wearing a hoodie and cargo pants, you were just thankful he wasn’t in sweats.

“Hi there Sleeping Beauty, I’ve already gotten a few texts that most of them are about five minutes out.”

“Great,” he grunts, parking himself on the couch, “I’m starving,” he scoots around trying to subtly adjust himself.

Joe stares at you , running his hand down your thigh. “Hungry…for food right?” You give him a pointed look.

“Yeah, yeah for food. What did you think I meant?” He laughs as he catches the pillow you launch his way and scoot far enough away that he can’t grab you.

“Don’t. Today really needs to be a stress free day. Can you promise you will be nice and not yell at your mother?” And with that statement he is no longer in the mood.

“I will not yell at my mom,” he crosses his arms over his chest with a scowl only like a youngest child could. “Can’t promise I’ll be nice.”

Before you can negotiate any further the doorbell rings and your first guests arrive. Nieces and nephews come running in, suffocating you with hugs and the youngest one tugging at Joe’s legs demanding to be picked up. Less than 30 minutes later the entire backyard is filled with kids playing tag, drinking juice boxes while the adults enjoyed the appetizer spread.

Joe wasn’t making it blatantly obvious that he was mad but he wasn’t exactly hiding it either. He kept the greeting with his parents short, keeping his distance throughout the afternoon focused on entertaining the kids and playing the perfect host.

“I just realized I never asked,” Codie, one of Joe’s sister in laws speaks up. “Where are you two going for your honeymoon?”

“Bora Bora! I can’t wait,” you respond, topping off her wine glass.

His brother Dan’s ears perk up. “We were thinking about going there for an anniversary trip. Are you guys staying in a resort?”

Joe shakes his head, “I got us an underwater bungalow. The view is supposed to be insane.”

“Yeah I bet,” your dad notes.

“Take lots of pictures,” his dad adds in.

He waits for a second taking a mental note of his mom’s silence throughout the conversation, nudging you to make sure that you’re on the same page. By the time everyone was gone you needed something stronger than wine. Robin and your mom insisted on helping you clean up but you let them know that the caterers were coming back to grab everything. As you bid your family goodbye and thanked them for coming, your mom whispered in your ear, letting you know that the man inside was a keeper. You responded by telling her you intended on keeping him.

Once the door was fully closed you could breathe a sigh of relief…until you heard Robin ask Joe what was going on with him.

Here we go.

Joe didn’t respond. He just went up to his office and came right back down with the prenup in hand. “Care to explain?”

“Oh,” she looked rather unfazed, “Peter and I thought that—”

“And that’s where you went wrong,” Joe interrupts, voice surprisingly even. “You and Peter don’t get to ‘think.’ You don’t get to do whatever you ‘think’ I need. You have to ask me.”

You can tell she’s visibly taken aback at how this has gone. “It was not at all my intention to go behind your back. You’re just very busy and now with wedding planning and everything else, it just made sense to get it put into place so you’d have one less thing to worry about.”

“Mom, I get that. But you crossed the line here. I’m an adult who would’ve liked to have a mature conversation with the person I am going to marry about a topic that is extremely uncomfortable for everyone. It is not your job to play the middle man here. There is no middle man. This is between y/n and I.”

The tension in the air was getting a little too thick for your liking. You stood next to Joe, running your hand down his arm trying to diffuse the situation as much as possible. “Okay I think you’ve made your point. Robin, I am not at all upset with you, this can all be resolved rather—”

“I am upset with you mom. There was no reason to hand over that document without at least giving me a phone call,” Joe counters, starting to stand in front of you a bit like he’s physically shielding you from her.

“Now Joey I don’t think your mom meant any harm,” Joe’s dad speaks up seeing his wife almost in tears. “Why don’t we all just take a breather here.”

You nod in agreement.

“I’m so sorry, to both of you. In hindsight that wasn’t the best way to go about it but like you said this is uncomfortable. I thought keeping it casual would remove some of that awkwardness and I just made it worse. I really am sorry.”

Joe still seemed unmoved but you really didn’t think she needed to apologize this much. He just told her he appreciated the sentiments but that she needs to recognize that’s he’s an adult, telling them goodnight and immediately heading upstairs.

You’re left to walk them out alone, giving them both hugs goodbye. “Honey I’m so sorry,” Robin states again, “I never want you to think that I don’t love you or that I was intentionally going behind Joe’s back. I was just making sure we have all of our bases covered so we aren’t sweating the small stuff on your big day. I hope you can forgive me.”

“You’re totally fine, I understand. And I agree. I think he just got a little freaked out at the reminder that his life is abnormal. He wants things to be simple and sometimes they just aren’t. That probably stressed him out a little. Or a lot.”

It feels good to leave their tense interaction with her smiling. Even though it didn’t reach her eyes like usual, it was still a small step forward.

“How can you not be upset about this?” Joe asks after brushing his teeth.

You focused on what was going on at your sink, taking your time to complete your skincare routine. “Because I see where both of you are coming from. You have every right to be angry at her for doing this behind your back. But at the same time I understand why she feels like she should get a jump on protecting your assets.”

“Protect my assets…” he scoffs, “…from you? What’s mine is going to be yours.” He hands you a towel after you wash your face, having memorized the steps at this point.

“Yeah ok, legally. But your accomplishments and accolades are yours. That’s how you got here and your mom saw all the blood, sweat and tears that went into you being in the position you are today. She may have overstepped a little but you’re still her baby at then end of the day and sometimes it’s hard for them to recognize that they have adult children who are fully capable of making their own decisions.” He grabs the moisturizer off the counter and places it in your hand as you laugh, whispering thank you. “My mom has done the same to me, not to this extent obviously because we’re in completely different tax brackets but—they just want to make sure we’re okay no matter what.”

Joe leans against the counter, deep in thought. Growing up with his dad coaching it was usually just the two of them, she drove him to basketball and football practices and tournaments, took him to school and worked the entire day at school and came home still ready to dedicate all of her time to him if he asked. “I was too harsh wasn’t I?”

“A teeny bit? Maybe? I do thoroughly appreciate you looking out for me though. Going to bat for me against your mom of all people.”

He shrugs, giving you a hug from behind, resting his chin on your head. “She protects me so somebody’s gotta protect you. That’s what I’m signing up for and I promise to always take that job very seriously.” I should put that in my vows, he tells himself. He leans over a little more to press a kiss against your temple.

“Is that a promise?”

“That is a promise,” he holds out a pinky, making you gasp as you turn around.

“Isn’t a pinky shake you and Ja’Marr’s thing?”

Joe looks at you sheepishly, smiling so wide his eyes crinkle. “I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

You lock your pinky in his, kissing the smile off of his face.

That night before he went to sleep, he texted his mom telling her that he loved her. You gave them privacy when she came over the next day, smiling and hugging it out so you assumed everything went well. You hoped to have open communication with your kids even as adults one day, but did not envy the journey that your parents were constantly navigating. This once tiny person you created and had to make sure to teach them everything was now not only getting married and had established their own life but in Joe’s case everything was heightened. She’s been there through her son being the overlooked player who Urban Meyer said threw like a girl to now if he so much as has a paper cut an entire city of people, a whole fanbase is worried and asking for minute by minute updates on his condition. You couldn’t imagine the whirlwind that must be.

So you were going to sign that prenup whether Joe liked it or not.

“We need to decide on bridal party gifts,” Joe suggests a week later. “I was thinking about getting the guys customized golf carts. They could be delivered straight to their houses after the wedding or I could have them dropped off the day we get and they can drive around the property whenever they need to get somewhere? What sounds better?”

“It sounds like you’ve had this very specific plan and just couldn’t wait to make your big announcement. How am I supposed to compete with that?”

Joe laughs, grabbing his water. “You can give them all Cartier bracelets, have the wedding date engraved on the inside. That’d be pretty cool.”

Cool and expensive. “Don’t do that, I can actually hear what you’re thinking.” Curse him for knowing you so well. We’re only gonna do this once, might as well do it right. Make it a great experience for everyone we love.”

“Fine. You’re right. But we are not doing an ice sculpture then.” He gives you a blank stare but says nothing, both of you know that it’ll be coming back up sooner rather than later. “There is something else we need to talk about though.”

He rolls his eyes, deciding this is the perfect time to get up and put his plate in the sink, like you can’t just follow him. “We really don’t have to do this.”

“Oh but we do. Joe seriously we’re gonna have to figure this out. It’s important.”

He lets out a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling before putting his eyes back on you. “I’m just uncomfortable with any conversation that plans a breakup. I don’t ever want to breakup.”

“Then let’s not breakup and we won’t even have to worry about any of this. We’ll discuss the details, I’ll sign it and we’ll never talk about it ever again. Deal?”

You place a hand on his cheek and he kisses the inside of your hand before he speaks. “Deal. I can’t wait to marry you. Even got a countdown on my phone.”

“That’s probably the single most adorable thing you’ve ever said.” He pulls his phone out to show you a countdown app with a timer down to the hour the ceremony is supposed to start. A picture from your engagement shoot is set as the background. “I can’t wait either. I love you, so much.”

“I love you more.”

[tiffany-loves-broadway]

While I do think that the Watsonian/Doylist distinction is important to keep in mind as a very basic theory-of-fiction-criticism framework thing, I think that there's a very important point missing from this discourse, a point which is often missing from this discourse. (The popular but godawful "Thermian Argument" is emblematic of this framing; it's just more condescending about it.)

Oftentimes, when there are two sides of a discourse, one offering a Watsonian explanation and one offering a Doylist explanation, the side framing their point in a Doylist way is actually incorrect. Not "correct but a stick in the mud about it" - simply wrong. They're prone to assuming that they're correct because they're using the Doylist lens, and they'll try to pattern-match the discourse to "one side is being frivolously charitable to the text, and the other is seriously analyzing it in realistic terms" because that narrative is flattering to them, but it doesn't actually mean that they're right.

If you want to know why a character did something, and Tumblr user #1 says "the text actually already explained why they did that", and provides sensible citations, and Tumblr user #2 says "they were acting out of character because the author was a moron with evil politics and hated his readers" and their case is just kind of incoherent, then Tumblr user #1 is acting as the Watsonian, and Tumblr user #2 is acting as the Doylist, but the former is certainly making a better argument. A correct Doylist explanation here would need to understand what the author even intended to convey on the Watsonian level.

Now, that said, Watsonian explanations that disregard the likelihood that the author actually intended them can certainly be lots of fun; I've spent a lot of time on them just as creative exercises. But I don't think that that means that a Watsonian lens is inherently less respectable than a Doylist one; if anything I think that the lower stakes of the Watsonian lens actually favor it. It takes a Doylist to have something banned as subversive literature.

I feel like we need a refresher on Watsonian vs Doylist perspectives in media analysis. When you have a question about a piece of media - about a potential plot hole or error, about a dubious costuming decision, about a character suddenly acting out of character -

A Watsonian answer is one that positions itself within the fictional world.

A Doylist answer is one that positions itself within the real world.

Meaning: if Watson says something that isn't true, one explanation is that Watson made a mistake. Another explanation is that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle made a mistake.

Watsonian explanations are implicitly charitable. You are implicitly buying into the notion that there is a good in-world reason for what you're seeing on screen or on the page. ("The bunny girls in Final Fantasy wear lingerie all the time because they're from a desert culture!")

Doylist explanations are pragmatic. You are acknowledging that the fiction is shaped by real-world forces, like the creators' personal taste, their biases, the pressures they might be under from managers or editors, or the limits of their expertise. ("The bunny girls in Final Fantasy wear lingerie because somebody thought they'd sell more units that way.")

Watsonian explanations tend to be imaginative but naive. Seeking a Watsonian explanation for a problem within a narrative is inherently pleasure-seeking: you don't want your suspension of disbelief to be broken, and you're willing to put in the leg work to prevent it. Looking for a Watsonian answer can make for a fun game! But it can quickly stray into making excuses for lazy or biased storytelling, or cynical and greedy executives.

Doylist explanations are very often accurate, but they're not much fun. They should supersede efforts to provide a Watsonian explanation where actual harm is being done: "This character is being depicted in a racist way because the creators have a racist bias.'" Or: "The lore changed because management fired all of the writers from last season because they didn't want to pay then residuals."

Doylism also runs the risk of becoming trite, when applied to lower stakes discrepancies. Yes, it's possible that this character acted strangely in this episode because this episode had a different writer, but that isn't interesting, and it terminates conversation.

I think a lot of conversations about media would go a lot more smoothly, and everyone would have a lot more fun, if people were just clearer about whether they are looking to engage in Watsonian or Doylist analysis. How many arguments could be prevented by just saying, "No, Doylist you're probably right, but it's more fun to imagine there's a Watsonian reason for this, so that's what I'm doing." Or, "From a Watsonian POV that explanation makes sense, but I'm going with the Doylist view here because the creator's intentions leave a bad taste in my mouth that I can't ignore."

Idk, just keep those terms in your pocket? And if you start to get mad at somebody for their analysis, take a second to see if what they're saying makes more sense from the other side of the Watsonian/Doylist divide.

[meetletsinmontauk]

stop waiting- L.H

There's not a synopsis, I'm sorry

Disclaimer: nsfw, contains smut!!

It had been 3 months since Lee Heeseung’s world turned upside down. 3 months since he switched from a homemade man to a big party animal. 3 months since his girlfriend, Karina, left. 4 years of relationship, for nothing. 4 years of promises and plans simply went down the sink. 4 years for at the end be cheated on with that Sim Jake guy. But Heeseung didn’t need her anymore, he had his soju, his hennessy and his weed. They would never leave him. That’s why every Friday night till Monday morning, he had his ass stuck in a party, surrounded by strangers, numb of feelings. 

Numb of feelings, that was the best part, he couldn’t feel anything among the strangers, |among the drinking, the loud music, among the dancing, the sweat bodies, among the sex, and the different beds he had been on. 3 months of living completely alienated from reality. It was the price he decided to pay in order to not feel the pain, to try, somehow, fill the void Karina left on him.

He was at one of those parties, smoking some weed on someone's couch, next to his best friends Jay, Sunghoon and Ni-ki. He didn’t talk or hung out with them too much when he was in a relationship. But now, he was free and he had no one to tell him what to do or not. Even though his focus wasn’t on his friends, it was on a girl across the room. She was wearing a mini skirt and stiletto heels and she was an old acquaintance, they studied at the same high school, they had art classes together, and he simply hated that girl. 

He hated her because she was perfect. She was beautiful, talented, kind, funny and intelligent, and, of course, he had fallen in love with her back then, when he was still a loser. During that time, they became closer very quickly, and he did everything for her. Everything to see her smiling. But she kept him in the friendzone, because she was banging with his old brother, Lee Taemin, who simply dumped her 2 months later, after he lost interest.

 It was 4 years ago. It was the last time she talked to him, and because of that, even being perfect she was also an asshole.

He kept staring at her, wondering how were the odds they would be at the same party, in the same night? He dragged his joint again, trying to relax and praying she would go away soon. He probably wasn’t good in that manifestation thing cause out of the blue, she started to scan the room, till her gaze crossed with his. “Fuck”, he cursed under his breath. And, worse, she started to walk toward his group. “For fuck’s sake…”, he cursed again, then tilted on the couch, trying to convince himself that her presence wasn’t making him uncomfortable. Maybe it was because he hadn't seen her in 4 years, but she looked even more beautiful, the most radiant and sexy version of her, which made him hate her even more. “Damn”, he thought when she stopped in front of the couch he and his friends were sitting on. 

“Hello, guys!”, she greeted, smiling, “Hey!”, drunk Sunghoon, sober Jay and stoned Ni-ki greeted her. But not Heeseung. She lifted an eyebrow and turned specifically to him “Hi, Heeeung”. He lifted his gaze, dragged his joint and exhaled slowly, everyone was looking at him, apparently he had no choice but to answer “‘Sup?” “Are you good?” “Do I look good to you?”. She stared at him, he looked good, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “It’s been a while…”, she continued. Heeseung chuckled, “You think so?” “Why does he keep making rhetorical questions?”, she thought. “Can we… hum… can we talk? In private” “Now you wanna talk?” “Well, yes, it’s important” “You can speak. My bros and I, we’ve got no secrets” “I know we haven't spoken in a while…” “A while?!”, she ignored the 1000th interruption and continued,  “...but, hum, could you tell your brother to stop trying to get in contact with me, please?” “Are you talking about Taemin?”, she nodded. Hee laughed, “You gotta be fucking kidding me! You come here, after 4 years, to ask me a favor!? Involving my hyung!?”, he paused to chuckle, “Do you think I am some sort of idiot?”. 

She was embarrassed, the way he was stating she did sound like a selfish bitch “No… I just didn’t know who else to occur” “Well, if you want Taemin hyung to stay away from you, you go and tell him yourself”, she held back the tears, she didn’t remember Heeseung being so rude. Probably because he wasn't, but now he hated all women, he despised them. 

“Heeseung, please, I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t need your help” “I’m not your fucking bitchboy anymore” “But…” “If you’re done already, the door it's that way” he pointed to the door of the living room. “If you aren’t done yet, go anyway”. She opened her mouth to say another thing but she gave up, it didn’t seem he was going to bend.

 “Sorry for bothering you. Bye, guys” “Bye!”, the other 3 said, while the 4 of them watched her go. Jay poked Heeseung’s arm to scold his friend, “Bro, you didn’t have to be rude with her” “What?! Are you defending her?!” “Bro, I’m just saying you could have helped her, you know your brother is an asshole!” “She’s not my problem, Jay. She picked Taemin back then, now she deals with him” “Yeah, but can you stop acting like a resentful child just for a second and…”, Heeseung put his hand on his ears and shouted, “Ah!”, Jay shutted his mouth and tapped his ears “You’re giving me a headache, Jongseong!” “What a hypocrite”, he thought before standing up. “Where are you going?”, Sunghoon asked “Bathroom” “Good! Bring me some more of this drink, yeah?” “Don’t you think you’ve drank too much already?” “Sorry, mom”, Jay rolled his eyes, “Will be back soon”.

When Jay stepped out of the bathroom the first thing he saw was her talking to her friend Minji. She had red eyes and was clearly nervous. He probably shouldn’t cause of his loyalty to Heeseung, but he couldn’t help himself, he had to do something to help. So he approached them, “Excuse me, girls…”, they turned to him “Hi, Jay”, she sniffed. Jay and her were friends in high school, they were lab partners, but he ended up being under Heeseung’s guard after they stopped talking. “I’m so sorry about Hee, he has been angry at everything lately” “It’s ok, I shouldn’t have talked to him, I know Karina doesn't like it, but he was truly my last option” “You…” “She’s telling the truth. She already tried everything, but Lee Taemin keeps creating fake accounts on instagram just to try talking with her”, Minji completed “I’m sure he does, but… you said Karina doesn’t like it when you talk to Heeseung?” “Yeah, that’s why I distanced from him” “You’re kidding, right?”. She crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow, “No, Jay, I’m not” “Heeseung thinks you did that because of his brother” “Why would I? Heeseung was one of my best friends back then” “Fuck!”, Jay put his hand on his forehead, “Heeseung is so stupid!” “Why?” “Karina told him you asked her to tell Heeseung that if one Lee sucks, then 2 Lees probably sucked the double and you would rather lose your vision than to see any of them in front of you again” “What?!”, she and Minji said in unison “I never said that. Karina hated me since the first time we met” “Its true”, Minji commented.  “Oh my God, I have to tell Heeseung about that”, Jay turned to leave, but she didn’t let him. “Jay, wait…”, she held his arm, he looked down at her hand “What?” “Don’t do it. I don’t want to ruin their relationship. Hee’s happy with her and I want him to be happy. Even with a nasty bitch like her” “Lucky for you, they are not together anymore”, her lips parted. “W-what? Is that for real?”, he nodded “What happened?” “She cheated” “With who?!”, Minji asked “Minji!”, she scolded her friend “How’s he dealing with that?” “Terribly. He’s angry at everyone and everything. He goes out every weekend, he leaves on Friday night, and shows up on Tuesday morning. And he’s drinking and smoking a lot” “Damn”, she muttered “I really thought it was weird to find him here tonight” “Yeah… Anyway I’ll try to convince him to talk to his brother” “Ok. Thank you, Jay, it really means a lot to me”, he smiled “It’s nothing. Bye, girls”, he said before winking at them and leaving.

When he joined his friends on the couch again, Heeseung wasn’t there anymore. Sunghoon was laying down, with his mouth open, REM sleeping while Ni-ki tied the korean man’s shoe’s laces in a way that Hoon would fall when he stood up. “Where is Heeseung?” “What?” “Heeseung. Where’s he?” “I have no fucking idea, bro” “Damn, Ni-ki! Is the weed destroying your neurons?” “Bro, I am not understanding anything you are saying today” “Fuck…”, Jay muttered, before leaving to try to find Heeseung. He asked at least 30 wrong people before finding the right one “Jungwoon! “Hey, Jay” “Have you seen Heeseung?” “I don’t even see him at home, man”, they were roommates, “Fuck…” “I think I saw him in the kitchen with a girl, then they disappeared”, Jay groaned. 

He knew it meant he wasn't going to hear from Heeseung till Tuesday “Ok, Woon. Thanks bro”, he poked the younger’s chest and left, Sunghoon and Ni-ki would need his help to reach home and trying to find Heeseung was pointless.

…

A week later:

Jay was at the apartment they shared with Sunghoon and Niki. The 3 of them were having a gaming night, they even invited Jungwoon and Heeseung, but none of them heard from Heeseung since last Saturday. According to Jungwoon, he didn’t spend much time at their place as well. “He went home on Monday, I guess. Then he went to work, I didn’t hear from him for 2 days, and yesterday he showed up, said he had an off day and stayed in his room all day. I went to work this morning and when I came home in the afternoon he was already not there”, Jungwoon told them, sitting on their carpet while eating popcorn.

“Are guys worried about him or is it just me?”, Sunghoon asked “Yeah!”, the rest of them answered in unison. “Yes, man. But I have a plan” “What’s it?” “Do you guys remember that girl from his art class? The one he was best friends with?”, the other 3 nodded, “You don’t even attend the same high school as us Jungwoon!”, Sunghoon pointed out, “I want to be included. Now go on, Jay” “So, I talked to her at the party we went to last weekend, and it turns out Karina lied to Heeseung all that time” “What happened?”, Niki asked, “She never said those things to his ex. Apparently Karina just didn’t like their friendship and she cut contact to avoid ruining it” “Karina didn’t like any of his friendships”, Jungwoon added “That bitch”, Sunghoon rolled his eyes, disgusted. “You have to tell him that”, Ni-ki said “Yeah, but who said I can talk to him?”, at that moment Jay’s phone buzzed:

Lee Heeseung shared his live location with you

“Oh my God, guys. It's him!”, felt like he guessed he was the subject of their conversation. “What does it say?”, Woon asked “He just sent me his location”:

Park Jongseong: ‘Need me to pick you up, bro?’

Lee Heeseung: ‘Nah, come over. Bring the guys with you’

Park Jongseong: ‘Which guys?’

Lee Heeseung: ‘Anyone you want. Just come, it's boring without you to parent me’

“He wants us to come to a club in Hongdae”, they protested, nobody is in the mood for it. “I go, you guys can stay” “No! It’s game night! It’s not gaming night without you, Jay”, Sunghoon cried, “But I have to talk to him” “Do you think it will really help him to know the truth?” “I think so, at least a little” “So you should go” “Yeah…”

Park Jongseong: ‘Omw. Will be there in 20’

28 minutes later, Jay found himself in a club, trying to avoid being pushed and humped by the people on the dancefloor. He tried to text and call Heeseung one thousand times but he wasn’t successful. It took him more than 10 minutes to find the motherfucker among a smoke of weed and 2 girls on his lap, one in which leg.  “Jongseong! Finally, man!”, Heeseung shouted so Jay could hear him over the loud music. “Same, bro! Same!”, Jay already had lost his patience, he didn’t know if it was because of the ocean of sweat and drunk people he had to face to find Heeseung or the whole past 3 months. “What’s wrong, man!? You seem stressed!” “I’m stressed!” “Why, bro!?” “I have to tell you something and you went missing the whole damn week! Where have you been, man!?” “Here and there! What do you want to tell me!?” “I'd rather do this somewhere where I don't have to shout in order for you to hear me!” “Chill out, man! At least tell me what this is about!” “Karina!”. Heeseung furrowed and his jaw tightened up, “I don’t want to know!” “Yes, you do!” “No,  I don’t! She’s past!”, Jay pressed his temple, he was already done with that son of of a bitch, ““Can you stop being a fucking brat for at least 10 minutes and listen to me?!”, Jay said with his jaw and fist clenched. “Ok, ok! Chill, bro!”. 

After Hee convinced the girls to leave his lap, he walked with Jay for the parking lot. He sat on the hood of his friend’s car and lit up another joint. He offered to Jay, but he declined “So, what’s about Karina?” “She is a freaking liar” “I know. That’s why we are not together anymore” “That’s why you’ve lost your best friend too” “What are you talking about?” “Remember when Karina said she asked her to…”, Heeseung cutted Jay, he didn’t want to remember those words. “Yeah, yeah, go on” “Apparently Karina made everything up” “How do you know?” “She said she never asked Karina anything. She also told me Karina didn’t like when you guys were friends. So she stopped talking to you cause she didnt want to ruin your relationship”. Heeseung scratched his chin, trying to find a way to attack her, "How do you know she isn’t lying too?” “You know what happened to all your friendships when you were dating her”, Jay was right, Karina didn't like any of his friends, boy or girl, she wanted him all for herself. 

He dragged again, trying to process everything Jay said, “So… it wasn’t because of Taemin?” “No! She was your best friend, man, she wouldn’t have done it to you”. Heeseung placed his hands behind his head, everything Jay said made sense, all he wanted to do was scream. “Fuck!”, he screamed repeatedly. He jumped from the hood of Jay’s car and started to walk around “Can’t fucking believe on this!” “I couldn’t either” “Damn! All of those years for nothing”, he stopped walking in a sudden, as he remembered something really important. “And she reached out for my help, bro. And I acted like an asshole!” “Yeah, but you can fix that” “How?” “Talk to your brother” “Yeah, man I thought about that”, Jay rolled his eyes, Heeseung’s sarcasm didn’t affect him anymore. The older man threw the joint on the ground and stumbled on it with his shoe. “Can you help me? I think he’s here”, “Yeah, su…”, Jay’s phone interrupted him. 

He got surprised when he checked on it, and saw her name on the screen “Hold on, it’s her”, he picked up “Hello?” “Jay? Please, help…”, he heard a sound of crashing, as her phone had been thrown on the floor “Hello? Are you still there?” “Who said you could do that shit, huh?”, he heard a masculine voice approaching her phone along footsteps “It was a mistake, nobody needs help. Bye’’, Jay’s face turned into white, as he saw a corpse. “Jay! What happened?” ”Taemin, I think he’s with her” “Fuck!”, he cursed “Stop cursing and let’s find them. I heard an echo, I think they’re in the bathroom” “Let’s go!”.

…

“Who’s that Jay, hum? Is he your new boyfriend?” “What if he is? It’s none of your business, your creep!” “Nah, nah, nah, baby girl. Don’t speak like that to me, cause I already made you happy” “It wasn’t happiness! You used me for your own pleasure when I was hopelessly in love with you!”, Taemin chuckled, and touched her chin. “Well, I guess I did. But…”, he approached her lips “I’m truly “ “Bullshit”, she spitted on his face “Ugh! That’s disgusting!”, he dried his face “Where are your manners?” “Who are you to talk about manners?! You were just rubbing your boner on my groin without my consent!” “It’s so cute when you pretend you weren’t enjoying it” “I wasn’t!” “Sure”, he caged her in between his arms, and dipped down to kiss her, but she didn’t kiss him back, of course. He pressed his erection in between her legs, holding her forearms against the wall when she tried to fight back.

That's when Jay and Heeseung came into the bathroom. Heeseung’s blood started to boil when he saw his hyung forcing her to kiss him “Lee Taemin!”, he shouted. His brother stopped kissing her and turned around “Heeseung?!” “Take your hands off her!” “Right now!”, Jay completed “Yeah, right now!”. Taemin laughed, “Or what?”, Heeseung approached him “Or I will tell dad you have been selling drugs to teenagers, he will love it” “Are you really using the ‘I’ll tell dad’ card?” “You bet I am”, the oldest man looked at her, then to his young brother “Fuck it! This bitch isn't worth it”, he took his hand out of her “If she isn't worth you can leave her alone, right?” “Whatever, man”, he slammed the door when he left the bathroom. 

At that moment, she slid her body down the wall, buried her face in her knees and started to cry. Heeseung looked at her, then to Jay, he didn’t know what to do. “Do something”, Jay mouthed “Me!?” “Yes, go!” “No! You go!”, Jay didn’t even bother answering, he just turned around and left the bathroom. Hee rolled his eyes, then squatted in front of  her and tapped her head, softly, “Hey… are you ok?”, she lifted her head and looked at him, she looked scared “Did he hurt you?” “N-no, he just forced me to kiss him and pressed his hard dick on his groin” “Fucking disgusting”, he muttered. “I was so scared he would do something more”, Hee stretched his hand and caressed her hair “It’s ok, he is not here anymore and he will not bother you again”, she leaned forward and hugged him “Thank you, Hee”, he nodded, without hugging her back. Then, he took her arms off him and stood up, “Well, I think I’m going to take some air, wanna join me?” “Ok”, he helped her stand up and took her to the parking lot.

After Heeseung called Jay and told him everything was ok and he could go back to his gaming night, they sat on the hood of her car. Heeseung got a beer on their way out of the club and she was laying down, stargazing. “Jay…”, she looked at him, “...he said you and Karina broke up”, he nodded, drinking more of his beer “He said to me you stopped talking to me because of her” “It’s true” “I thought you were an asshole for all those years. That you didn’t care about me or our friendship…”, he paused “...it was just made up”, he drank more. She sat up, “Hee, I always cared about you and our friendship, I’m sorry that I just walked away instead of talking to you, I just wanted to see you happy” “I’m sorry for not trying to understand you too, I just believed in her blindly” “It’s ok”. 

They remained silent for a few moments before he finally said something. “I missed you” “I missed you too, Hee” “I like your tattoo”, he pointed to her left thigh. She had a beautiful and majestic dragon who went from her low belly to her leg “Do you?” “Yeah. It comes to the hip?” “To the low belly” “Wow! Sick’ “Thank you! I drew it by myself” “Really?!”, she nodded “I remember when we were in high school you were very good at art class” “Yes, I miss that time” “I don’t “Really?” “Yeah. That time was hell” “Why?” “I suffered every time I was around you” “I don’t understand…” “I had a massive crush on you and you just wanted to know about my brother” “You had a crush on me!?” “Yeah” “Well, I had a crush on you too!” “What?!” “But you were always flirting with Karina, so I thought you wanted her, not me. So when Taemin started to flirt with me, I just… got hooked on him” “She was the one who flirted with me!” “But you let her” “Damn, can’t believe it. Fucking unbelievable!”, there it goes, he was losing his temper again. 

He jumped off the car’s hood and started to scream with her, “Do you have any idea of how happy we could be right now?!” “Hee…” “I’m ruined because of her! Ruined! And you!? You were almost raped in that bathroom! Fuck!”, he kicked the front tire of her Jeep. She jumped off the hood too, “Why are you so mad about it?! You were the one who got into a toxic relationship! The one who lost yourself in that damn relationship!” “Why didn’t you tell me you like me?! Why?!” “Why didn’t you tell me you liked me?!”, he didn’t say anything, she was right, it was as much his fault as hers. But she was pissed with his behavior since the last party, “I know why, cause you’re a coward!” “Shut up..”, he muttered, “You’re a fucking pussy! Your fucking loser!” “I told you to shut up!”, he screamed at her. She stepped forward, till her nose was inches from his nose “Or what? Fucking assho…”, but he didn’t let her finish, he took her lips on hers, discharging all the represed anger, all the feeling of inferiority he felt over the past years. It all turned into a ferrous, aggressive kiss. 

She felt his salty tears on her lips, maybe she had crossed the line, so she pulled away from him to apologize “I’m sorry, Hee. I didn’t mean to, I was angry and…” “Shut up” “But…” “Did you enjoy the kiss?” “Well, I didn’t have much time to savour it but…” “Can you just fucking answer me?” “Yes… I think so” “Good”, Heeseung pulled her waist to another kiss, this time he leaned her against the hood of the car, in which she laid down, melting to the kiss, enjoying all the magical tricks Heeseung was doing with his blessed tongue. She never thought he could make her feel this way. She put her fingers on his hair and pulled it, searching for some relief. He moaned into her mouth, running a hand up her thigh, pulling her dress up with it, stopping on her belly button line. He looked down to appreciate the tattoo “You’re a terrific artist” “Thanks”, he took another look at it, then rubbed her hip bone, she thrusted it up as a reflex, he smirked “I can’t fuck you in public, babygirl” “I have a car, you know?” “I am waiting for your invitation”, she smirked, then reached for her purse and car keys. She stood up, then unlocked the car and opened the backseat door “Come in”, he did, she followed, slamming the door behind her.

Heeseung threw his belongings on the seat next to him “Come here”, he tapped his lap, she took her heels off and obeyed him. He grabbed her hips and pulled it down against his boner, wanting her to feel how much a simple kiss just made him crazy. She moaned with the stimulation, “Damn, you’re already so hard”, she muttered “It hurts”, he faked a pout “Won’t you help me?”, she smirked before moving her hand to his belt, unbuckling it. Heeseung watched her open his zipper and pull his boxers just enough for freeing his hard member, she gulped when she saw it, he was bigger than she thought. He squeezed her hips lightly, “Are you ok?” “Yes, I… I’m just thinking about how sore I’m going to be tomorrow”, he smirked “You know what a man likes to hear”, she took her lips to his neck, sucking it with the goal of leaving a mark on the sensitive skin. Heeseung threw his head back, and rolled his eyes, trying to suppress the groan stuck in his throat, his cock pressed against her belly was aching, he needed some damn relief. She finally pulled away from his neck to see her masterpiece “You are going to wake up with a bruise on your neck just for you to know” “You’re a fucking temptation”, he muttered, “What are you going to do about it?”, he didn’t botter in answer, he just ran his hand down her dress and pulled her laced pantie to the side. He looked her in the eyes the whole time he got into her, her facial expressions trying to hold a moan back was priceless, when his head collided with her cervix he started to move her hips, and neither of them could keep silent anymore, soon the moans started to stood out the sound of skin colliding. The windows of the cars started to fog but it wasn't important, Hee looked at her, who had her lips nailed in her bottom lip as she moved her hips by herself, “You’re taking me so well”, he commented in between his cutted breath, “Are you calling me a whore?” “I don’t mind if you are a whore, as long as you are my whore from now on”, she changed the angle of her hips, founding  a sensitive spot, unable to speak more than just a muttered “Yes”, she whined, “Fuck, I’m cummming very very soon”  “Good girl”, he held her hips again helping her to hit the edge, and when she did, he bucked his hips up to reach his own orgasm. After he unloaded inside of her, he pulled her body against his chest and muttered against her hair, “You are mine now”

…

2 months later:

Dragons. All Heeseung could think about was dragons. Because the thing he saw the most over the past 2 months was a dragon. Her tattoo dragon. Sex was good and she treated him like her boyfriend. Safer than fuck random girls he found in parties. It didn't mean he gave up on his shallow life. He still went to parties, he still avoided his feelings and had no intention in turning what they had into something serious. Even so, during the past 2 months he got a lot better, he wasn’t angry anymore, he still went to parties, but just Friday and Saturday nights, he went home after the parties ended, he started to help Jungwoon taking care of their place, he participated of the gaming nights, he took her out to places where there was not alcohol, he didn’t even got late for work anymore. Heeseung’s friends loved her, they knew he was feeling better because of her presence and her cares, “I feel like the void inside of me is finally filled again”, he confessed to Jay once “Don’t you think this is a problem?” “Why would  it be?” “If she’s gone you will feel empty again” “She’s not leaving, bro” “How are you so sure?” “I just am” “If you say so”. But one day, everything was about to change, he just didn’t know yet. 

Heeseung had a day off work and he decided he wanted to spend it with her. He texted her a casual:

‘I need you. Come over’

And half an hour later she was there, naked on his bed, doing what they did the most. They usually had very funny and nonsense talks after sex but that time she chose a topic Heeseung didn’t like at all, “Don’t you think…”, she said while tracing lines into his chest, where she was laying on,  “What?” “...shouldn’t we like…” “Just say it, you can say anything to me” “...shouldn’t we be dating?” “Oh! Why do you think like that?” “Cause we’ve been doing this for almost 3 months already, and we kinda act like a couple but we're not a couple officially” “Why do you think we act like a couple?” “Because we do” “But… give me an example” “We go out on dates, we have sex, I know your friends and family and you know mine… Do you need a few more?”, she was right, he was getting trapped, “I don’t know, I ended a 4 year relationship 6 months ago” “Do you still love her?” “No, I don’t” “Do you love me?”, he lifted his head from the pillow “Do you love me?”, she lifted from his chest “Well, yes” “What?!”, he sat up too “Why?!” “What do you mean with why, bro? Do I need a reason to love you?” “Well, I don’t know how you can love me”, he stood from the bed, panicking, “Well, I see now”, she stood up too and started to wear her clothes, “Hold on, you don’t have to leave. We can just pretend we didn’t have this conversation, and you didn’t say you love me. There’s no need to feel embarrassed” “No. I am not embarrassed and I don’t want to pretend I didn’t say I love you. I’m not ashamed of my feelings” “Fine! Just… don’t go” “Look, Heeseung, we probably shouldn’t see each other anymore” “What?! Why?!” “You clearly need to love yourself right now and I am not wasting my time with someone who is not even aware of that”, she passed through him and grabbed her purse, “C’mon!” “Bye, Hee, figure that mess out”, then she walked out the door. Heeseung sat on his bed, still naked, feeling the hole in his chest getting voided again.

…..

2 weeks later, Heeseung felt like hitting the rock bottom. He was at a party again, leaning on the wall, holding a red cup with some shit cheap whiskey in it. His eyes burned two people across the room: Ni-ki and her.

He actually missed her and watching her getting all flirty with one of his best friends didn’t make things any easier. Ni-ki didn’t have much fault, she was the one who started a conversation and she was the one who kept touching his arm and chest whenever he said something funny, which was very often. But Ni-ki was equally blamed cause he bent to her charm, he probably was high from some herb he smoked. They were getting closer and closer, Heeseung could picture them leaning for a kiss anytime soon and for that, Jay could see smoke coming out from his ears. “What the hell are you doing, man?”, he asked, “Wondering which part of his face Ni-ki would like to be punched’ “Bro, no! You can’t do it!” “But I guess I will” “Please, don’t. Stop watching them”, but he couldn’t, he tried 3 thousand times and his eyes kept turning back to them. “Unfortunately, this isn’t an option” “Why not?” “Cause I fucking can’t, Jay! Fuck… Do you think I like it!?” “What’s the matter? You say you were happy to be completely free again” “It turns out I’m not” “What’s going on, bro?” “I miss her” “Do you?” “She made me feel… good, the best I felt the past 6 months. So,  yeah, I miss her” “And you’re going to sit here and watch her flirting with someone else?” “She wants a real relationship” “So what?” “I’m never going to date again” “Hee, I know trauma can be difficult to get over but… if you want her, you must face your fear before someone else does and you lose her forever. I know Ni-ki wouldn’t mind having a girlfriend, so stop waiting and go after her! ”. He closed his eyes, just the thought of Ni-ki and her being a couple and having them around as a couple was killing him inside, but he couldn’t be in a serious relationship, not after everything Karina did to him. He opened his eyes to tell Jay he was going to leave, but he saw Ni-ki bending down and whispering something in her ear. And worse, she giggled, then nodded, which impulsed Heeseung to stand up and walk towards them. Then, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the bathroom, ignoring all her protests. 

“What the fuck, Heeseung?!”, he didn’t say anything, “You’re being fucking ridiculous just like your brother. He did the exact same thing, forced me into a bathroom with him and did things I didn’t want to!” “Don’t compare me with Taemin. He’s a piece of shit” “You’re exactly like him, asshole. He just wanted to have fun with me, so did you!”. He was facing a window, she couldn’t see his face, so she didn’t know he was crying till he sniffed, rubbed his nose with his point and middle fingers before turning to her and saying with a weak voice “Shut up…” her furrow faded away instantly, her face relaxed, she didn’t know what was worse: his shaky voice, his swollen eyes or the sadness he was carrying in his gaze. She walked toward the Korean man “Oh, my God, Hee! Are you actually crying?” he nodded “Why!? I know I was rude, but, didn't mean to make you cry”, he didn’t say anything “Hee, talk to me…” he cleaned his throat “I…” he paused “Don’t…” “Don’t what?” “Pick him. Pick me” his voice failed again, he only had strength left to beg “Please” she frowned again “We already talked about it. If you’re not willing to take things seriously, you should let me go”, he didn’t say anything again, “Are you going to make things serious between us?”. He looked at her, she was waiting for an answer with a question mark expression printed on her face. “Fuck it” he said, grabbing her nape and pulling her for a kiss. A messy kiss cause he was a fucking big mess at the moment. He spent the last 3 hours thinking about the possibility of her lips being touched by Ni-ki’s lips and he was going crazy about it. So, yeah, he might be fucking rude in his perspective for just kissing her with roughness and without her consent, but he didn’t fucking care at that point. 

All that mattered at that moment was the grip on his hair, her jawline being cupped by his big hands, those heavenly pieces of flash moving with his, the sweet taste of her cherry lip gloss mixing the salty taste of his tears, rolling down his face, reaching their lips and being absorbed by that act of love. Then suddenly, her hands moved from his hair to the hem of his t-shirt and started to run over his bare chest. In that moment, his conscience hitted him and he broke the kiss, stepping back “I’m so sorry. I….”, she looked up at him, searching for some hope, a small sign which would show her that, yes, he was going to fight with his own demons for her, for them. He rubbed the skin of her cheek, smiled, then nodded, “I’m doing anything for you, babygirl”. She smiled at him, maybe this time, he wasn’t going to run away anymore. 

[psychemochanight]

You know everyone in the family has this little gestures that mean something, right?

Dick just knows his family very well.

Bruce is tired? he makes a small gesture that simulates supporting his weight on one leg, but in reality he only slightly lowers one of his shoulders.

Tim leans against his desk when he's frustrated with something and won't ask for help.

Jason still tenses his legs when something makes him happy, a reflex from when he was a kid and would bounce on his feet when he was happy.

Damian is the easiest for him to notice, not only because of the time he spent with him, but because he no longer actively seeks to hide his emotions from him. But he still has to look for that slight tension in his jaw every time he tries to hold back a yawn when he's sleepy.

Cass lets Dick see her body language, she knows how important it is to convey her emotions, so she lets him see it. Dick especially appreciates it when she picks something up from the table and plays with it in her hands, she always does this when she's about to confide something to him.

Duke and Steph are always open about what they think, so you don't need to look for anything in particular. Still, he can usually tell whether the conversation is going to be about something happy or not based on the way they walk when they approach him.

Barbara still does that thing where she squints her eyes whenever she thinks too much and needs someone to take her mind off it so she doesn't give herself a headache. She is just like her father in that.

Even Alfred has his mannerisms that Dick knows, which usually involve him going over and handing him things in the kitchen or living room, silently accompanying him.

It doesn't just happen among immediate family.

Donna: How did you know I was angry?

Dick: Aside from the obvious fact that you look like you're about to go kick Wally's ass?

Donna: Good point.

Wally: How do you always know when I'm hungry?

Dick: Maybe because I don't need to be a metahuman to hear your stomach growling from a mile away?

Roy: How did you know I fought with Oliver?

Dick, watching Roy practicing his aim with a photo of his mentor in the middle of the target: Instinct.

Not all gestures have to be subtle.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 6 - Everything I Do

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Sam Winchester/Reader (platonic), light fluff, mutual pining, light angst, love confession, smut (handjob, fingering, p in v sex), Dean's got the Mark of Cain, uh oh.

Summary/Warnings: The Mark reaches a breaking point. Usual Warnings, little angst, lotta smut.

Author's Note: I am of the firm belief Rowena would’ve said cunt religiously if the CW wasn’t full of a bunch of pussies.

Chapter title from Video Games by Lana Del Ray

Word Count: 8.7k

Read on A03!

Chapter 5

Dean can breathe. Not easily, but he can. He can feel the weight of something airy and thin wrapped around him, stuck to his skin and far too heavy. There’s a hand on his brow, and it’s not the right one. Dean’s not sure what the right one would even be, but he knows it’s not this one. This one feels a little wrinkled, and the nails are too long, and it doesn’t satiate the betterlust. It’s just there, pressed to his skin like it’s looking for something and not all too pleased with what it finds.

The longer it’s there, the more the betterlust pounds and stabs and scrapes at him. Rots his guts and carves open his skull and rips through his chest. It’s searching for something that’s not there, and Dean’s head is too clouded with pain and ache and sickness to figure out where he should even be looking. Not in the hand. Not in the thing around him like a shroud–hot and clinging to him like a plague—but maybe somewhere close. Because wherever Dean is—he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t have enough of a brain to guess right now—it’s unfamiliar, but feels right. He’s lying on something soft, and it smells good, and when his fingers flex, they’re tracing over an impression left on the area next to him. An indent left on the space by something that could curve and press into Dean exactly like he wants. Craves. Needs. 

The betterlust starts to flare and bellow, almost drowning out the low voices around him, and Dean knows he might die if he doesn’t find what fits into that impression and take it.

“How long has he been like this?”

“I’m not sure, a few hours?”

“Well can you try to be sure, Samuel?”

“I got here the same time you did, how am I supposed to be sure-“

“Ask our resident Dean Expert, the poor girl has been stuck with him all week-“

“No, I’m not going to make her do more. And, uh,” there’s a long sigh, and Dean still isn’t really sure what’s going on, or who these people are, or why they’re talking about him. “I don’t think it’s safe for her right now. To be around him. He said he didn’t want her-“

“He obviously lied, you idiotic boy-“

“He didn’t want her to know, Rowena. And it’s not my place to tell her-“

“She’s a big girl, she’ll survive a little bit of emotions.”

“He’d, he’d fucking kill me-“

“And he will kill himself if he does not accept what he needs! It’s quite honestly a miracle he was a stubborn enough arse to resist the Mark’s demands this long.”

Dean’s really fucking confused. There are two voices, one that sounds a little like his and one that very much doesn’t, and they’re both talking about him like he’s important. He doesn’t feel important. He mostly just feels tired, and bad, and sick. Sweaty and hungry and desperate for something he can’t name, but they say he needs to name or he’ll die, and he doesn’t even really know what names are right now-

“If I tell her, this becomes her responsibility-“

“Well, Dearie, I wasn’t aware you were stupid and blind-“

“Hey-“

“You cannot look me in the eyes and say that she would not welcome the responsibility, boy. She is so pathetically obsessed with him it makes me feel ill.”

Dean felt his mouth try to frown—he can’t figure out how to move, so it more of a twisted grimace—as he racked his mush of a brain to figure out who they could possibly be referring to. He couldn’t remember names, but he could remember presences. Remember that the voice like his was good, and he was supposed to protect it. The voice that wasn’t like his was bad, and kind of a bitch, but helpful when they ran out of options. There wasn’t a third voice, but there was a smell that he really liked. Loved. Craved. Needed-

That was the imprint. And it wasn’t here right now, but the betterlust and already spiraling around it and constricting his lungs as he tried to find it. He needed it, and it didn’t need him, and he was going to die-

“I know,” the familiar voice sighed. “Believe me, I know, but I can’t ask that of her-“

“She’ll shred your sorry arse apart if you don’t-“

“And Dean will put a bullet through my brain if I do!”

“He will die before he gets the chance. Have I not made it clear that, unless Dean receives the help our lovely, pretty, lovesick-“

Then the voice that wasn’t like Dean’s said a name, and the betterlust exploded inside him. He knew that name. He’d die and kill and cut himself to pieces for that name. He wanted it. He couldn’t have it. He needed it, more than he needs air or water or food or music. The betterlust demanded it, and was shredding apart his insides because he refused to take it, but was also lending him the strength to find it. To find Her. Dean needed to fucking find Her, or nothing would ever be good again-

His eyes fly open, and for a long movement everything is only a blinding blur of color. There’s noise around him—both voices shouting words that sound like they’re for him but he can’t understand—and Dean’s brain kicks into a vigilant, borderline feral function as he hauls himself up, something pushes him back down, and the betterlust grew feral.

“Rowena, grab the other arm-“

“I am not meant for brute labor, Samuel-“

“Are you fucking kidding me-“

Dean roars Her name clawing and grabbing at the air to try and go, try to get to Her, because he was going to fucking die, and the betterlust told him She could fix this, make this better, make Dean better-

“Oh for- Fine.” 

The voice not like Dean’s says something he can’t understand, his whole body tightens. Like a weight has been dropped on his chest, and ropes have been wrapped around his limbs, forcing him to collapse back onto the bed with a noise that might have been a whine.

“Dean.” Rowena appears in his vision, her face drawn in annoyance. “Blink twice if you understand me.”

Dean scowls, but blinked twice.

“Good. Are you going to try and kill us again?”

Dean glowers at Rowena, keeping his eyes wide open in a gesture of no, and she sighs.

“Good boy. I’ll let you up, but if you ever try and grab my hair again, I’ll make you regret having hands, aye?”

The tension vanishes from Dean’s body, and he sits up slowly, pinch the bridge of his nose to try and curb the pounding ache behind his eyes, taking deep, mechanical breathes to get some fucking control over his body. Over the betterlust. Over himself.

“Dean, are you feeling okay?“

Sam looks worried. He’s frowning and scanning over Dean with concern, like there will be wound on his skin they can patch up to fix this. 

But only one thing can fix this. And Dean still isn’t strong enough to not know where She is, not when all he can remember is dragging himself to Her room, and hearing her voice, and seeing her pretty face before it all went dark. 

Dean mutters Her name, his voice low and gruff, and Sam and Rowena freeze. “Where is she.”

“She’s eating.” Sam mutters, bracing his hands on his hips. “I told her to get some rest. You freaked her out, dude, she-“ Sam shakes his head, giving Dean a look he doesn’t understand, and doesn’t have the energy to try and decipher. “She was really shaken, when we got back. She needs-“

“She needs you.” Rowena interrupts Sam, and he shoots her a venomous glare. “You’re too much of a meat-headed dolt to see it, but that darling girl looked as if she’d been devastated over you.” 

“Rowena.” Sam hisses. “We agreed-“

“You agreed. I made no promises-“

Dean raises his hands—they both need to shut up, or his skin will fly off his body—and their argument stutters off.

“How bad is it.” He looks to Rowena, the moment alone an act of labor. “And don’t try to lie or sugarcoat it. How long I got.”

Rowena sighs. “If you insist on keeping your head up your own arse, a day. Maybe two.”

“But we’re going to try to reverse it.” Sam jumps in, his voice desperate. “And Rowena gave you something to keep you going-“

“But, as I told your brother,” Rowena’s words are harsh, and Dean appreciates it. This really isn’t the fucking time for dancing around anything. “It is a very temporary solution, and the reversal will take time you no longer have. There is an obvious fix to your little problem-“

Dean lets out a dry chuckled. “My problem? Last I checked, Rowena, you were the one who fucked this up-“

“I did not fuck anything up, you petulant man child-“

“Rowena-“

“No!” Rowena cuts off Sam with sharp words, holding Dean’s glare. “I did my job, Dean Winchester, but you are too much of an arrogant, brooding little cunt to do yours.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “Watch it, bitch-“

“I did not have to help you,” Rowena hisses. “But that poor, desperate, lovesick woman begged me to. You know exactly what you need, and you are too cruel and stupid to do it.”

Dean’s hands curl into fists on the sheets. “I said fucking watch it-“

“She’s right.” Sam mutters, and Dean’s gaze whips to him, his mouth falling open at Sam’s pitying, exhausted expression.

“I’m sorry, I must be going insane, because there’s no fucking way you just sided with Rowena-“

“I didn’t side with her.” Sam snaps, running a hand over his face as he shakes his head. “I’m just trying to get you to think for five seconds. I’m trying not to lose my brother because he can’t see what’s right in front of him-“

Dean scoffs. “There’s nothing in front of me, Sam. Rowena botched the spell, and now I can’t do anything but-“ He cuts himself off with a groan, a stab of pain twisting over his ribs, and Sam throws his hands in the air.

“For crying out loud, Dean, you’re dying because of this self-righteous, sacrificial bullshit you always pull! Rowena didn’t botch the spell, you’re just refusing to give the Mark what it wants, and until you do-“

“It doesn’t matter what I want!” Dean roars, slamming a hand down on the mattress. “Fuck, Sam, I’m not going to force myself onto her just because-“

“Because you think she’ll say no?” Sam rolls his eyes. “Dude, you can’t be stupid enough to really believe that-“

Dean scowls. They don’t fucking get it. Sam and Rowena don’t know Her like Dean does. They don’t understand that She would say yes, but she wouldn’t really want it, and Dean would stain and mark Her in a way that they’d never come back from. She’d never smile at him the same, and he’d have to die alone in the dirt when she finally got the memo that he wasn’t worth helping. When She left him, her soul more tainted than when she’d found him. When his poison sunk into Her skin, and she would still be so pretty and amazing, but ruined and marred from Dean’s touch. From how weak and pathetic and toxic he was. 

He couldn’t do that. He’d rather fucking die.

“Just drop it, Sammy.” Dean mutters, his gaze falling to that imprint of Her on the bed. Her bed. Dean was finally in Her bed, and he didn’t even get to enjoy it. “It’s not happening. And you’re not going to convince me, so either fix this, or let me die without goddamn yelling at me.”

There’s a moment of wired silence, Rowena silent in the corner of the room as Sam and Dean glare at each other, and Sam shakes his head like he can’t believe Dean’s nerve. Like Dean isn’t saving the only good thing they both have. Protecting the only person that’s stayed with them, that they both love, even if Dean’s love is made of undying, animalistic, grime and dirt covered devotion, and Sam’s is purer, softer affection that could never cut and scar Her like Dean’s. 

“She was crying.” Sam finally says, his tone colder than Dean’s heard it in a long time. “When we got back, she was sobbing, Dean. Have you ever seen her cry? Ever?”

He hasn’t. Dean has seen Her grit her teeth and bite back sounds of agony from injuries, seen Her scream and flail when they’ve lost people, and seen Her so angry it scared him a little, but he’s never seen Her cry. She didn’t cry. Her eyes got glossy, and her voice grew tight and choked, but she didn’t cry. Sam has to be lying, and he doesn’t look or sound like he is, but he has to be. She doesn’t cry, so why the hell would that be the truth? But why would Sam lie, and why has She stayed this long, and fuck, everything hurts and Dean’s too damn tired to figure out what the hell Sam is trying to tell him but the betterlust is scratching at his heart to know-

“Sam,” Dean swallows, watching his brother carefully. “I-“

There’s a knock at the door, and everything in Dean flies to the sound. It’s Her. Before Sam’s hand is even on the doorknob, Dean somehow knows it’s Her. Here. Maybe for him, maybe not, but the betterlust doesn’t seem to care because it’s Her-

She looks horrible. Still so fucking pretty, but horrible. There’s a slump to Her posture as she stands in the door—hair tangled and shirt wrinkled—and Her gorgeous face is slightly puffed. Her lips pouting. Her eyes lined with red. 

Like She’s been crying. 

Sam says Her name in question, and when She speaks her voice is hoarse.

“Look, I know you to told me to rest, but-“ Her mouth falls open as her eyes land on Dean, and Her sharp inhale feels like it shoots adrenaline right into his blood. 

He tries to offer Her a winning, I’d be happy to see me too smile, but it doesn’t feel right on his face. It feels too vulnerable, where it’s always been like a shield. It feels like it’s a lie, or trick, or act of cruelty when Dean’s rarely met a woman who doesn’t flush and giggle under that attention. It’s supposed to make him feel good from their happy, hopeful eyes. It’s supposed to make them feel good from Dean’s well-crafted, carefully wielded charm.

But right now he still just feels like shit. Bottom of the gutter, horrible, flea-ridden and matted shit. A fucking piece of shit that might have made Her cry, and isn’t even smart enough to know why.

He tries again, making the smile wider, adding his most casual drawl. “Hey, Sweetheart-“

She makes a strangled sound—loud and pained, making the betterlust start to snap at Dean’s brittle spine—and all but runs to the bed, almost falling to Dean’s side as Her hands begin to grab at his face and run over his skin. Angling him for Her to examine with frantic eyes and words, igniting little paths of insatiable fire wherever She touches.

“Are you okay?!” She turns his head to the side, her fingers tracing his jaw and cheek like boils or scars might have just appeared. “Your fever is gone,” the back of Her hand presses to his brow, flipping to touch it with Her palm. “But shit, you’re covered in sweat-“ Her glare whips around to Sam, Her grip still tight on Dean’s face. He doesn’t really mind. The betterlust is still trying to climb out of his throat, but he can fight it—for Her—and this can be enough. It’s all he’ll get before he’s gone anyway. Her touch, and loud almost furious shout at Sam. “Why didn’t you change the sheets like I told you to-“

“He was dead weight,” Sam says Her name, his voice a hell of a lot kinder than when he’d been talking to Dean. “And you also told us to make sure he got some rest. Rowena said the fever broke, and he’s lucid again-“

“But this is gross Sam, and you could’ve moved him if you tried-“

“Moved him where? He started freaking whimpering when we took away your comforter-“ 

Dean scowls. “Can you guys stop talkin’ about me like I’m not right fucking here-“

Her gaze turns back to Dean, the odd, aggressively mind-numbing panic and care returning to her eyes as she begins to examine him once more. 

“You seem better, but you’re redder than you should be, and, shit, was that scar always there-“

Her finger’s trial over Dean’s chin, dangerously close to his mouth, and he has to bite down a groan as he says Her name. “That’s been there at least a decade-“

“What about this one-“

“Three years, you were there when I got it-“

“Fuck, you’re right.” She shakes her head, Her eyes suddenly boaring into Dean’s and settling warmth in his gut. “Well, are you feeling okay? Does anything hurt, or feel sick, or feel numb-“

“Sweetheart.” He catches Her hand, and she falls silent with wide eyes. “I’m-“

“And,” She moves his gaze onto Her’s, and fuck She’s always so pretty. Even when She’s pissed at him. Especially when She’s pissed at him. “Don’t you dare fucking lie to me, Winchester, I’ll stab you-“

He chuckles, and it’s dry and low, but maybe the realest sound he’s made since he woke up. “I don’t doubt that, Sweetheart.” He drawls, and she lets his guide Her hands away from his face. “But I promise, I’m feelin’ better.”

She nods slowly, and Dean pretends he can’t see Sam’s eye roll in the background.

“Oh. Okay.” She turns at Sam and Rowena, her voice slightly unsteady and weak. “Have you, um, have you both been in here? The whole time I was eating?”

Sam nods. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” She swallows, and Dean notices Her body go slightly rigid. Sam must notice too, because he tilts his head and frowns at her.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just…” She trails off, staring at her nails as her voice drop to a mumble. “There’s a lot of people in here. Makes me nervous.”

“Shit, sorry.” Sam says Her name, his voice apologetic. “Didn’t know that. We can go, if you want.”

There’s a long moment where She’s just staring at Sam, Her mouth slightly open, and her body curled in on itself like she’d been punched. Sam repeats Her name, his voice cautious, and when She snaps out of it, her voice is still soft and anxious. 

“That would be good.” She whispers. “Thank you.”

Sam nods. “No problem. Me and Rowena,” he shoots the witch a glare, and she rolls her eyes. “Are gonna go try to fix this. Text me if you need anything, either of you.”

She hums an acknowledgment, Her attention never leaving Dean as Sam and Rowena close the door, and Dean’s whole existence begins to curve into only the feeling of Her as her fingers trace over the back of his hand. 

After a long moment of silence—only the sound of Dean’s heart in his ears and the shifting of blankets under their bodies—she swallows, her voice barely a breath. “They can’t fix it, can they.”

He blinks at Her. “They’re gonna get it-“

“Don’t lie to me, Dean.” She gives him a soft smile that makes her look like she’s already grieving, and something in him lights up and withers away in the same second. “Please.”

He swallows. He is really tired of lying to Her. And he can say something closer to the truth and still hold his ground. He’s not quite that weak. Not yet.

“It’ll be close.” He grunts. “But I’ve survived worse. I just gotta pull through-“

“You don’t, though.” She whispers. “Rowena said you just have to-“

“Rowena can eat me.” Dean mutters, glaring at the door. “I’m not doin’ whatever the hell the Mark tells me to, that was the fucking point of this.”

“The point was to help you, Dean.” She sounds so freaking sad, and it’s pulling Dean apart. His will and mind all being reduced to Her. Too good and pretty to be sad. And it’s just Dean. She shouldn’t be this sad over only Dean.

“Sweetheart-“

“I don’t,” She swallows, speaking over Dean with quiet, soft words. “I don’t know why you’re being such an ass, Dean. Why can’t you just do what the betterlust wants? Isn’t it what you want-“

“It is.” Dean has to push the words through his teeth, because She so close and it’s not close enough and everything fucking hurts. “But I can’t have it, so we’re dead in the water. But Sammy and Rowena-“

“Dean.”

He can’t look Her in the eyes. Her voice is so gentle and nervous, and he’s not strong enough to look Her in the eyes and see all that worry and pity in them. He can barely even grunt an acknowledgment for her to continue.

“What do you want?”

“I’m not gonna-“

“Is it me?” She whispers, and Dean’s eyes shoot to Her’s. He can’t breathe. He can’t do anything but stare at Her and try not to die as he realizes this is it. This is how he loses Her. Forever. This is the last time he gets to look at Her and bask in her beauty and kindness, the last time he gets to drown in the smell of cherries and feel a little more alive under Her touch.

But She doesn’t look afraid, or disgusted. She just looks urgent. Desperate. As confused and hopelessly hopeful as Dean feels.

And he can’t speak, or think, or do anything but stare at Her as she speaks again.

“Dean, do you,” She takes a shaking breath, and Dean needs to touch Her. “Do you love me?”

——————

He’s not saying anything. Dean’s looking at you like you’ve shot him right through his heart, ripped it out, and taken a bite. Gaping like he’s trying to ask you for it back but can’t find the breath to, blinking like he’s trying to test if you’re really there. He reaches a hand up to run over his own face, reaches out to touch you—trace broad, calloused fingers over your cheekbones and jaw, over your chin like he’s wiping something you can’t see away—and jerks back suddenly, like you’d hurt him. Burned him. Branded him.

He’s branded you. You’re never going to forget his voice in your head, sounding like he’s overdosed on something awful, and doesn’t think he’ll come back down. Like he’s trying to cleanse himself of something by whispering words that will either haunt you past the grave or feed you for the rest of your life. Your heart will never forget the way it stopped for only a second before kicking into a pace that was all too fast when Dean’s eyes closed, and your hands will always remember the cold fever of his skin.

“Dean.” You have to make your voice strong. Steady, like you’re demanding something from him and not praying to him. “Please-“

“Why-“ His voice is hoarse, almost strangled, and it makes your every muscle feel a little weaker. “Why would you ask that.”

“I’m, I can’t tell you, just please answer me-“

“Did Sam tell you-“

“Sam?” You frown, shaking your head slightly. “No, I just, this has nothing to do with Sam-“

“Then why the hell are you-“

“What would Sam have told me?”

Dean falls silent, opening and closing his mouth as he goes red, his eyes looking almost feral. He looks like a cornered animal, something starved and needy, unsure if it should bite the hand reaching for it or grab it and never let go. 

You want to hold him and never let go. You want him to grab your hand, and hold it, and never think to drop it again. You want to hear him say those words again, and have his voice be certain. You want to touch him, no matter if he’s like this or breaking or furious or—in those rare, priceless moments—happy. And you need to know. Dean’s never owed you anything, and he never will, but if there’s only one thing that he can offer you in universe, it would be really nice if it was this. If Dean ever gives you anything, please, dear God, let it be this. 

“Dean,” you whisper, moving your hand to his knee and holding his almost fearful, rabid gaze. “Please answer me. Tell me what Sam-“

“He,” Dean swallows, voice gruff. “He wasn’t supposed to say anything. He fucking swore he’d never-“

“He didn’t.” You repeat, unsure if he’s even understanding the words out of your mouth. “All I’ve talked to Sam about is the spell. But why-“

“Rowena.” He mutters, and it sounds like he’s mostly talking to himself. “Rowena must’ve open her bitch mouth-“

“I haven’t really talked to Rowena at all-“

“Must’ve been some fucking spell-“

“Dean!” You scream, your nails digging into his leg like you can hold him with you forever. “It was you! You told me you loved me! You had a fever and you told me you loved me, you said my name, and I just,” Your voice cracks, desperation starting to break through your blood, out of your mouth in spit. “I need to know, please, you need to tell me if you meant it-“

“Sweetheart-“

“Please.” You refuse to look him in the eyes. The moment you look in Dean’s deep, pretty eyes you’ll know what he’s thinking, and you’ll lose him forever. Everything in you is screaming to know, but you’re still not able to just look into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, please tell me.”

“Why.”

For a second you’re not sure if you heard him right. The question startles you enough to make you look up, and the moment you see him something snaps inside of you. He looks wounded. Nervous. Almost as afraid of you—of your words, and what they might be capable of doing to him if you use them wrong—as you are of him.

“Why would you need to know.” He rasps, staring at his own hands. Flexing in his lap, seemingly against his will. “You’re not- It’s not somethin’ you’re-“ He looks up to you, his eyes almost pleading. “Why would you give a shit about-“

“About you?”

Dean’s throat bobs, his nod short, and you summon more bravery than you’ve ever been capable of before. Enough to reach out, over the space between your bodies that so small—but still feels like miles—and place your hand on his cheek. Keeping his gaze on yours.

“I always care about you. I-” You take a shaking breath, the last words falling off your tongue. “I love you.”

Dean’s hand shoots up to cover yours. To hold you against him, with a grip that tells you he might be trying to sear his skin into yours. 

“You-“ His voice is so soft. His hand over yours is like iron, but everything else about him seems to be dreamlike. Hazy and uncertain, both of you watching each other like you’re sure the other will vanish if you look away. “You love me?”

“Yeah,” you try to smile at him, and it’s not charismatic. It’s pleading and tragic and so fucking delicate. “I do. I mean, I have. For a while.”

“How-“

“Four years.“

He blinks at you. “No, I, I meant-“ He swallows, shaking his head. “I meant how. How did that happen.”

It’s your turn to frown at him. “How did that happen?”

“You shouldn’t love me.” He mutters, his hand over yours flexing. Like he’s trying to pull it away but doesn’t know how. “It’ll get you hurt.”

You raise your brows slightly, running your thumb over his cheek. “Are you going to hurt me?”

Dean’s eyes narrow. “That’s not what I-“

“Are you?”

“Of course not, I’d never-“

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter why-“

“It does.” You whisper, folding your legs under you to rise on your knees, dropping your brow to his. Holding his gaze the whole time. “It matters to me, Dean.“

He makes a choked sound, but doesn’t move away. “Why?”

“Because I love you.” You whisper. “And it would be really cool if you loved me.”

Dean’s only staring at you, his eyes flicking between your own, slightly blurred gaze that can still see him so well, and your lips. 

“And it happened,” you push on, your voice growing a little weak when he still doesn’t respond. “Because it’s really easy to love you, Dean Winchester. You’re a good man.” You offer him a smile, and his own mouth falls open just a little. “And even if you don’t love me, I wouldn’t have you any other-“

Something in Dean’s eyes flickers, and he moves before you’re sure what’s happening. Yanking you into his lap with his hand—fingers now tangled in yours—catching you with an arm around your waist, and kissing you. 

Kissing you. Dean’s kissing you. 

Your body sparks into action—even as your brain becomes fogged with a hazy, Dean-shaped lust—and you fist a hand into his shirt, pulling him as close as the world will allow. He’s holding you so carefully, leaning down in a slight dip, and there could be a storm raging around you instead of the soft, romantic rain this feels like it belongs to, but you wouldn’t know. Because this is a kiss people wage wars over. 

It’s louder than music in your ears and electric in your blood, but sparks isn’t a strong enough word. It’s like lightning. Shooting through your spine and lighting up every nerve in your body to Dean. Soft lips molding perfectly into yours, warm and calloused hands skillfully mapping over your skin, a groan down your throat that you can feel settle in your lower gut and start a wildfire.  You’ve been hungry and you’ve never dared to eat, but Dean is here now and you��ll either be starved for the rest of your life or never want for anything again.

When Dean tries to pull away, you just follow him. Chase after his lips with yours, trying to get just a little more before this all comes tumbling down. Before the thought can even dare to cross Dean’s mind—that he’s not good for you, and he should go—because this is all you’ve ever wanted and you’ll be damned if you don’t cling to it for as long as he’ll allow. You’ll fall all the way down, until your body is only supported by Dean below you, and you’ll forsake oxygen until your body demands it. Maybe a little while after, too. 

And Dean doesn’t seem to care to let you go. Every time he tries to pull back it’s a jerked movement, and every time you collide again he grows more and more feral. His groans turn into deep, animalistic growls, and his touch on your skin becomes rough. Not painful, never painful, but urgent. Uncontrolled. Pulling at your skin like he’s trying to meld it into his, kissing you with bruising force, bucking up into you with his hard cock brushing your inner thighs. 

You grind down onto him once—when he hits closer to where you’re beginning to ache for him, and your own need grows stronger than you’re desire to let Dean control this—and he bites you. Dean catches your lip between his teeth, sucks in into his mouth, and grins like he’s won a prize when you whine a plea of his name.

“Holy shit,” he mutters your name, pressing his brow to yours as you both catch your breath, grabbing your waist to stop the next roll of your hips. “I’m not- I can’t do this to you-“

“You’re not doing anything to me,” you whisper. “I love you. I want this.”

Dean catches your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles and staring at the movement, his voice so low you almost don’t hear it. “Say you’re lying.”

You blink at him, and shake your head. “No.”

His eyes flash, shooting back to yours as he grunts your name. “You need to say you’re lyin’ right now, or I’ll-“

“You’ll what?” You lower your face back down, until you’re sharing Dean’s every breath. “Fuck me? Actually say you want me?”

His throat bobs, voice rough with lust. “You, I can’t fucking control it, sweetheart, if you’re fuckin’ with me you need to take it back now-“

“Dean.” You grab his face between your hand, forcing his darkened gaze back to yours. “Answer my fucking question.”

He shakes his head weakly. “You don’t-“

“I love you.” You hiss. You need to make sure he feels it, in the slightly spit on his face, that still tastes a little like him because it’s pushed through lips that are swollen from Dean, and Dean alone. You glide a hand down his chest, the kiss apparently fueling something bold inside you that hadn’t been there before. Your fingers trace down, over his abdomen—hardened from work but still soft in all the best places—and Dean takes in a sharp breath, his hands on your hips tightening enough to leave a mark, and you lean back. Just enough to open space between your bodies, just enough for you to palm him through his sweatpants.

He’s huge, and twitching under your careful, light fingers, and God, you need him inside of you in any fucking way—between your hands or filling your mouth or buried deep into your cunt—but Dean’s still just staring at you. His chest heaving, eyes so dark and wanting you might cum just from his attention, and nostrils flaring as you move your hand up, resting right over the hem of his pants. 

“I love you, Dean,” you whisper, the rush of confidence barreling down as you wait for him to do anything. “And you need to tell me now that you don’t love me, or-“ you take a long breath, dragging up the last bit of your nerve. “You need to say you love me, and do something about it.”

Something shatters in Dean’s gaze for the last time, and whatever war he’s been waging with himself reaches a brutal end as he surges back up, kissing you with all spit and bloody need. Like you’re the best thing he’s ever dared to have on his tongue, and he might be trying to chew off a bit of you to keep.

He won’t need to. He has you. He’s had you for a while, and when he leans back to watch you with glazed, hungry eyes, his words seal some deep, fragile part of you to him forever.

“I love you,” Dean grunts your name, scanning over your face like he’s afraid the words will yank you from his hands. They won’t. “I need you. I gotta have you, but I’m- I’m not in control of it right now-“

“I can take it.” You push your hand into Dean’s sweats, taking his cock in your hand. He groans, eyelids fluttering, and when you run your thumb over the head of him—pressing into the weeping slit and squeezing just so lightly—he hisses your name like a prayer. “Please, Dean. I want it. Please.” 

You pull down his pants with your free hand, taking his boxers with them, and start to slowly pump your hand up and down his impressive length. There will be bruising marks of Dean’s hands of your hips for a while, but you’ll survive. It’s worth it, to watch him unravel below you, to see Dean’s pretty eyes grow glazed with lust for you, feel his dick throb and hips jerk under your touch, hear his low growls and grunts as his jaw clenches and he doesn’t pull you away.

“God,” he moans your name, and you start to squirm above him, desperate for a bit of your own relief. “I wanna- Wanna taste you. Fuck you. Ruin you-“

“So do it,” you slip your other hand down—trusting Dean’s hold to keep you upright—and squeeze his balls. “You say you love me, Dean, but you haven’t proved it-“

The words do exactly what you’d wanted them to. Dean yanks your hand from around him, crashes his lips into yours with a fervor that might have been dangerous if it didn’t taste and sound and feel like Dean, and lets go. 

His every movement is rough and uncontrolled, because his tether over every bit of will that had seemed to keep him restrained is gone, and in its wake is only the Mark. All its lust and fury and hunger, primal and focused on you. On taking what it wants.

And you’d give it to him, even if it left a few marks on your skin and bruising on your heart, but you realize that the Mark doesn’t seem to just want to use you. If it did, Dean wouldn’t be sucking on your neck and moaning at the taste of your skin, all while tracing big, warms hands around your body to palm your breasts. He wouldn’t allow you to grind onto him, or whimper his name, or scratch at his skin as he pulls you apart with barely anything at all. When he flips your over without any effort—only a low grunt and flex of his muscles—you feel like the most priceless bag of flour in the word. Perfect to be tossed around like that forever, but worth more to him—more the Mark—than just another body.

And you can’t see him anymore, but you don’t need to. You hear the sounds of him shuffling behind you, the muffled noise of his shirt being tossed onto the floor, and then his voice. Low and feral and saying your name in a way that makes your knees weak. 

“Up.” He grunts, and you whine when he angles your hips up and pulls down your shorts, you already wet cunt being hit by the cold air. “So fuckin’ pretty, gonna ruin you, baby. You’re never gonna even think about a cock that’s not mine again-“

You nod a little stupidly, wiggling your ass back into him and moaning when his still-clothed erection presses right into you. “Fuck, Dean, please-“

He spanks your pussy—just once the stinging pleasure shooing up your spine—and you bury your face in the sheets to stifles your desperate moan. 

“Need ya’ to listen.” He mutters. “You’re gonna have to talk to me, baby, lemme know what feels good, what you’re likin’, what you need more of-“

“You,” you gasp, and Dean chuckles, running a taunting finger between your folds. “God, I need you, Dean, need you so bad-“

“You need me?” He pushes the finger into your cunt, his body moving to covers yours as he whispers in your ear. “Need me to fuck this tight little pussy until you scream? Goddamn prove you how much I’ve wanted you, how much I’ve always wanted you-“

“Yes.” You nod frantically, grinding your ass up into him. “Show me, please show me-“

Dean moves your head to the side, capturing your lips in a long, slow kiss, and hums in satisfaction when he crooks that finger right up against that deep, sensitive spot inside of you, and your hands start to claw at the sheets.  

Then he’s gone. Without warning Dean draws back, yanks his finger out without warning, spanks your pussy again—chuckling at the high, needy sound that escapes your lips—and presses one hand to your lower back to still your writhing as he shuffles behind you

“Tell me whatcha want, baby.” He mutters, moving his hand to rub up and down your thigh. “And I’ll get it for ‘ya. But you have,“ He slaps your pussy one last time for emphasis, and you can only moan. “To say what you-“

“Your cock.” You whisper, spreading your legs wider for his to see. To look at your wet pussy—need dripping down to your knee—and take whatever the Mark is asking of him. “Want your cock Dean. Want you to fuck me, no holding back, please-“

He slams into you without warning. Burying himself at the hilt in one brutal movement, groaning above you as you go limp under him, trying only to twist and touch him, only to push back and somehow get him deeper. You feel so full, so fucking high on the stretch of Dean inside you, but it’s not enough-

“God, sweetheart, you feel so fucking good.” Dean starts to massage your ass, with one hand, the other holding you up in the air for him to use. “Better than I dreamed, feel like heaven, gonna fuck you so good like you deserve-“

“Dean, fuck-” you clench around him, the praise feeding right into your cockdrunk daze of Dean, and he groans. 

“Don’t do that,” he grunts your name, and it sounds like an order. “I ain’t gonna last if you-“ He moans as you squeeze around his massive cock again, and pulls all the way out before slamming back into you with a growl.

Your mouth falls open, a sound like a mewl escaping your mouth, and Dean starts to fuck you. Really, properly fuck you into the mattress, with low groans and an unforgiving pace, bumping your cervix and snaking a hand around your stomach to pull you up to his chest, rubbing your clit until you’re wrecked and seeing stars, thrusting up into you like a jackhammer and keeping you so blissfully pleasured and warm.

“So fuckin’ good,” he growls your name in your ear, and you squeak. “Takin’ this cock so fuckin’ well, all warm and tight, made for me. You were fuckin’ made for me-“

Dean’s thumb and fore finger roll your clit in a tight circle, and you cum with a scream. Light and color lining your vision, the far-off sound of Dean’s filthy praise making your orgasm ride out and out and out until you’re sure you’ve reached something like heaven. Your vision is still blurred when the satisfaction has washed fully through you, and you realize Dean’s stopped moving.

His hand tangles in your hair, angling your face back for him to see, and fuck he’s so handsome. Breathing heavy in your ear, lips puffed from sucking and kiss your skin, eyes glazed but still focused on you.

You must look like an idiot. Your expression is slack and needy, your eyes glazed a lips parted, but Dean looks at you like you’re a diamond and his cock twitches inside you as your eyes meet.

“Shit, baby,” he mutters. “You gotta say somethin’-“

“That-“ You let out another moan, your pussy still fluttering around him. “Good.”

He chuckles, kiss the very corner of your mouth with a smirk. “You got full words, Sweetheart?”

You swallow, the full feeling of Dean—throbbing inside you, still rock hard, pushing against that heavenly spot but with just too little pressure to send you over once more—crashing into you, and you say the only thing you can think of.

“Keep going?” 

He stares at you for a second, then shakes his head. “No, I- I’ll be fine, I can take care of myself-“

“Want you to use me.” You’re practically whining, and you’d be more embarrassed if the words didn’t make Dean jerk up into you. “Please-“

He groans your name, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. “I’m not- you’re-“

“I said don’t hold back.” You whisper, rolling your hips against him and feeling pride glow in your chest at his moan. “Fuck me, Dean. I’m yours.”

And there it is again. You say the exact right thing, the thing you knew would work, and Dean gives in. He shoves you down, flips you onto your back—pulling out for only a second as he adjusts you under him—and starts to fuck you like an animal. Rutting into you at a near inhuman speed, hitting your cervix with every thrust, every word a low growl that coils release tighter and tighter in your lower gut. 

“So fuckin’ greedy,” he grunts, slamming a little rougher. “Wantin’ more, begging me to fuck you, so fucking pretty comin’ apart on my cock, tell me how good it feels, baby-“

“Good,” you moan, your nails digging into his shoulders as the bed creaks around you, your whole body overwhelmed with pleasure. “Feel so full, Dean, feels so good, you’re so fucking big-“

He groans, and you start to babble. You’re not even sure what you’re saying anymore, because every word feels like it’s spilling from your mouth. But every inch of your brain trapped in Dean’s skin slapping against yours, his muscles flexing around you, the low and primal sounds rumbling out of his chest as his movements grow sloppy and his cock starts to throb inside of you, and you couldn’t think about anything else if you tried.

“You feel so good, Dean, please don’t stop, want you to cum, I-“ You gasp as he starts to kill up your neck, your hands shooting into his hair. “Fuck, Dean, please, so good, God, I love you-“

His mouth slams into yours, and your orgasm rushes through you like a tidal wave. Longer and powerful, leaving you so fucked out you can only whine under Dean’s body, toes curling and eyes rolling back in your head as your pussy flutters around him.

Dean pulls out, keeping one hand gently on your knee as he pumps himself with an almost blurring fist, and cums over your abdomen and thighs. It’s hot and sticky, and part of you wishes you’d had enough of a brain to ask him to let you taste it, but you’re so completely spent that when Dean collapses over you—a heavy, comfortable weight you’re more than happy to be trapped beneath—your brain wipes every other thought but Dean away, and you decide to just stay here. Where Dean’s face in buried in your neck, and your sore from all of it but there will never be a better pain to experience.

“I-“ Dean breaks the silence, words muffled in your skin. “I feel better.”

“Oh.” You huff a soft laugh. “Good.”

“What, uh, what should we tell Sammy?”

You tug on his hair, just enough to move his gaze back to yours. “That we had sex?”

“No,” Dean groans your name, a smile pulling at his lips. “About the Mark. But we should tell him that-“

You make a mock, dramatic gasp. “Dean Winchester, are you going to brag about sex to your brother-“

“It’s sex with you, Sweetheart.” He winks, rolling you both over and caging you comfortably against his chest. “And Sammy’ll be thrilled to hear it, he’s been on my ass for years-“

“Years?” You squeak. “How many years?”

He shrugs. “I dunno, all of them?”

“All of them?! What do you mean all of them-“

“I mean since I met you.” Dean starts to rub soothing circles on your back, his mouth curling in smug amusement. “Deep breathes, baby, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

You flush, still not really use to the baby thing. Or Dean’s hands on your skin, every touch lingering like an imprint that will never even try to fade. “Shut up-“

He shakes his head. “Nah. You love it.” A boyish, wide smile splits over his face. “You love me.”

You might die. You might explode into a million, tiny pieces of confetti and shimmering glass, because Dean looks so happy. There are no ghosts in his beautiful eyes, no loathing or dread stained over his perfect face. He’s happy, here, with you, and you’re not cruel enough to stop yourself from crawling up his chest and pressing a soft, sweet kiss to his lips.

“I do love you,” you mumble against him, straddling his torso as you push yourself up flat palms. “But I’m still gonna tell you to shut up.”

He chuckles, the sound rolling and humming right into your blood. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Dean reaches up to tuck a little hair behind your ears, and freezes, his eyes trained on his forearm. On the Mark.

“We, uh,” he clears his throat, watching you carefully. “We do need to figure out what we’re gonna do about this.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. “We do. But I, I think-“

You cut yourself off, taking his hand in yours and running light fingers over the Mark in thought. Dean stares up at you with a slight awe in his gaze that makes you feel almost important, and your words fall to a soft breath.

“If you want.” You whisper. “We can turn it back-“

“No.” He shakes his head, sounding almost panicked. “I’m not goin’ back to that shit, not now-“

“Dean.” Your fingers still on his arm. “Was it me? That the Mark wanted?”

He swallows, but nods, and you sigh.

“We’re going to have separate sometimes. And we can figure out the bloodlust-“

“We should have to figure it out though, you don’t gotta put up with that-“

“I know.” You smile at him, and it’s not hard. Smiling at Dean is never hard. “But I will.”

“Do you-“ He stares at you, tangling his fingers in yours. “Do you not want me to keep the betterlust? You can tell me, I don’t want you to feel like you have to, for me-“

“God, no.” You shake your head, squeezing his hand. “I’m just, I’m worried about what might happen when the betterlust decides I’m not enough. Or when this, um, when you-“

Dean says your name, slow and firm, and you swallow. “This is it for me. It’s you, and the Mark knows that. You’re gonna be more than enough, hell, you’re more than I deserve-“

“That’s not true.” You mumble. “You deserve the world.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. “It’s adorable that you really believe that, baby, but-“

You scowl at him. “It’s the truth, Dean. You’re a good man, I meant what I said-“

“I know you did.” His charming, cowboy grins falters slightly. Not falling, but twisting into one you’ve never seen before. Still roguish, still well designed and stealing your breath, but with a slight crack that allows you to see deeper. To see the lonely part of him, that really thinks you don’t belong here with him. That’s trying to drag you into him, because he’s certain you’ll start running if he doesn’t. “But this,” he nods to the Mark. “Is still gonna be a problem. I’m still gonna be a problem-“

“You’re not a problem-“

He says your name, the word careful and tender and holy from his lips. It’s the best way you’ve ever heard it. The only way you want to hear it again. “Do you want me to keep the betterlust.”

You purse your lips, and nod.

“Words, baby-“

“Yes.” You whisper. “But I need you to promise me that if it stops working-“

“It won’t.” He shrugs, his voice flat, as if he’s speaking in fact. “And we’re gonna keep looking for a way to get this son of a bitch off. But we’re doin’ it together.” He pauses, scanning over your open features. “If that’s what you-“

You lean down, silencing him with a long, easy kiss. It’s not desperate anymore, but careful. Like you’re making art, or starting to spin a web that could unravel with a single tug, but neither of you will let it. You’ll never let this—whatever this becomes—fall apart. You’ll put your whole life into keeping Dean, fighting for him and helping him and reminding him that he’s not really a burden. Letting him remind you that he really does want you, and he’s never going to allow you to doubt that again.

“Together.” You speak against his lips, letting your content breath fall into his mouth. “I’d like to stay together.”

He nods, mouth curving into a grin. “Alright then. Together.”

End Note: Thank you so so much for reading!!! I've had a lot of fun with this one, and I'm so happy y'all have as well! I hope to see some of you soon for the next one, and if not, thank you. no matter what!!

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[koalayoo]

ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ, ʙᴏʏ

michael kaiser x gn!reader

content: pure fluff for the most part, soft! bf kaiser, reference to his backstory, kind of cocky, better than my last fic for sure

author's note: wanted to write a good christmasy bday fic for him. bit late, apologies. not really proofread or beta'd. apologies again.

wc. 1.3k

Kaiser had never celebrated Christmas.

Christmas was also his birthday.

That means Kaiser has never celebrated his birthday.

This was what had become apparent to you in your relationship with Kaiser, when all the walls between you two had become bulldozed and you realised, yeah, this is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. You had come to understand that with Kaiser’s upbringing and all that he would have probably never received a gift from his father. You wonder if at that age he knew what Christmas was.

Then you started tumbling head-first into a hole of unanswered questions. What would he have even done for his birthday? Was anyone there to ever celebrate with him? You knew how bad he had it growing up, you regrettably knew. Part of you wished you didn’t know how bad it was, hoped that sometimes his father grew to be lenient or that maybe the old women in town that would see him around knew his name. Knew him to be more than Michael “professional neighbour thief” Kaiser and instead as the kid he was. That was just wishful thinking though.

He had received gifts, which was expected. He was a pro athlete but he also had Ness from the age of 15 who had most definitely gifted him something you assumed but weren’t privy to the details. However, he hadn’t celebrated. Hadn’t experienced true Christmas joy. He doesn’t know the feeling of waking up early and ripping open the wrapping paper on specially curated gifts that sit under the tree you both decorated together. Hasn’t felt what it’s like making cookies with the radios ruffled Christmas carols sputtering in the background. Wearing matching sweaters while watching stupidly predictable themed rom coms. Making a wreath to put on the front door. Kissing under the mistletoe. Ughhh, there was so much you needed to show him.

So, you did just that.

As soon as December started, you did your utmost best to get him into the festive spirit.

On the 1st, you brought home a tree and excitedly decorated it with Kaiser. Putting various coloured ornaments on, some the typical solid coloured balls, others with stripes and patterns, differing sizes, differing shapes. Then, Kaiser had placed you on his shoulders so that you could place the star on the tippity top despite your insistence it be him.

On the 5th, you went shopping with two very important things in mind. A wreath, and some ugly sweaters. On the way you slipped in some ingredients for cookies too.

On the 14th, you had started wrapping some presents. You had both agreed 3 presents was a good amount to give one another but you couldn’t help but feel a gnaw at the back of your head. It was also his birthday, you just had to double it.

On the 17th, you had put the wreath up which welcomed him home from a long day at practice.

On the 22nd, you had finally worn the sweaters which you had taken a polaroid of before promptly taking them off, sweltering from the heat of the oven that was baking the cookies you both had put hours into making. Later that night, bad christmas movie #1 was watched.

The 23rd and 24th followed a similar routine. Jam out to a different song before you got sick of it and watch another bad christmas movie. 

Then, it was the day.

All the extra presents you hid from him were placed under the tree and you made hot cocoa for two. You had to work quickly, Kaiser was used to waking up at the odd early hours of the morning and there was no doubt he would feel you missing next to him.

Soon, he had stumbled down the stairs and was greeted with you wrapping a blanket around him. You had pulled him down onto the floor and planted a present in front of him, a chaste kiss pressed against his forehead.

“Happy Birthday, handsome.” You whispered softly into the air.

He had begun to wake up more and noticed the excessive amount of presents under the tree. He looked at the presents, then at you, and an eyebrow raised comically.

“And, Merry Christmas too, I guess…” You playfully rolled your eyes with a small smile appearing on your face. “Although that one’s of lesser importance.”

He sighs although he can’t help the small upwards tilt of his lips. “Thought we agreed on 3 each?” “Yeah, but it’s your birthday too! I wasn’t gonna be one of those people, ya know? The ones who just say the Christmas presents are also their birthday presents. You deserve to be celebrated twice.” 

“Yeah but-” And you briefly cut him off because if there was one thing you knew about Kaiser which was wrapped behind layers just like the presents was this feeling of foreboding. That he didn’t deserve this. However, your job as his brilliant partner was to teach him to sit there and take it.

So you started to celebrate, taking turns ripping the presents you both put love and care into wrapping. For every 2 gifts Kaiser opened, you opened one of yours in tandem. You giggled seeing him get you exactly what you wanted and teased him when a small blush appeared on his face when he got the same.

Although, there was one last present you wanted to give him.

A house full of love.

You wanted him to learn this holiday season that you were truly never leaving. Not like his mother, or even his begrudging father. That you were full of love for him and everything that came with choosing him. The arguments, the boundaries, the fear; you couldn’t fix it but you could help and that’s the sentiment you hoped to get across.

Later that day when you finished putting your gifts away and throwing the egregious amount of wrapping paper, you enter the living room to see Kaiser plotting. 

Before you can fully enter he spits out, “Stay right there.” You murmur in acknowledgement and stay put, eyes trailing the figure that is walking towards you suspiciously, one hand placed firmly behind him. You shoot him a questioning look to which he shakes his head, not budging.

“Should invite Ness over.” 

“Why would we do that?” He questions. “Fine with just me and you here, no?”

“Season of forgiveness, champ. Do I need to teach you how to be a good friend too?”

He’s stalked all the way over to you now. He towers above you and the hand he isn’t hiding comes to hold the top of the frame, leaning down towards you. His shirt lifts a little. You look. Then you look back at your boyfriend who has leaned in even closer.

His nose nudges against yours and you knew this was one of his ways of trying to assert dominance with the way a small brazen smirk made its way to his face. Could this guy try not to be a dick for one day? You notice the way his lips brush against yours slightly and you sigh, trying not to be pulled in.

“Answer?”

“Mmm, I’ll think about it?” He chuckles and leans in to swoop your lips against his in a passionate kiss. It didn’t last long because his smile broke the seal between you two apart. His eyes have a gleam in them and they flick up causing you to do the same.

Oh. 

A mistletoe.

“When did you learn about this one?” You whisper softly, genuinely curious.

“I had a tough childhood, doesn’t mean I lived under a rock.” He laughs again, this time more joyfully. You’re not sure whether it’s the fact that he successfully tricked you or that you truly rendered him this clueless.

Then, there’s a knock at the door. You see the sliver of magenta hair through the window panels near the door before you hear him.

Oh.

Maybe Kaiser doesn’t need you to guide him after all.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! Title is from December by Ariana Grande. Thanks for reading!

[elene78-blog]

I have read some comments about the stress that Cat, Laila and Jeremy cause Jean by trying to find out about her situation. I've read others saying that the way Jeremy informs the group about things that Jean tells him is horrible. Sensitive information about your experiences.

They are negative opinions and I find this super interesting.

I can see a clear contrast between the way the Ravens act and the way the Trojans act here.

The Ravens were intentionally ignoring Jean's situation. We can say that they knew something was happening. They have seen Jean beaten to the extreme. They have seen him continually injured, to the point of saying that “he has fragile bones.” Regardless of whether or not they knew Jean's age when he suffered from AS, they generated rumors that could do a lot of damage. They continue to feed them now.

Let's not fool ourselves. The Ravens KNEW someone was hurting Jean to the extreme. His response was to ignore it until it was normalized. They only talked about it with the intention of fueling the torture.

In response, Jean also normalized it.

In contrast to this, we have Trojans, which react in the opposite way.

The Trojans clearly see that Jean has suffered the unspeakable. They see that Jean has great difficulty adjusting. They see that Jean has been tortured when they see his scars. Jeremy finds out some things and discreetly passes it on to his closest friends, who are also the people closest to Jean in this complicated situation. This information is kept in a closed circle, which is the Trojans. It doesn't come out of there (that we know of).

Many people criticize this act.

I think what is important here is the intention with which the Trojans and Jeremy seek this information.

The Ravens interfered to hurt and create a harmful environment. The Trojans intrude to validate Jean's pain and create an environment appropriate to his current needs.

Let's face it; Jean needs help, but he is in a very difficult situation to acquire it, especially because of his own brainwashing. People who have lived with people who want to hurt themselves will know that these people tend to hide the problem (They don't see it or they think there is no solution), and this is one of the biggest difficulties in helping them.

If you don't see there is a problem, you can't help.

If the Trojans didn't meddle, Jean's pain wouldn't be validated. The message would be very similar to that of the Ravens: “we don't care. You don't matter to us”, therefore, Jean would continue normalizing his situation.

By getting involved, you are sending another message: “I care about this situation. What you have suffered is not normal. “You matter and I want to help you, even if I don’t know how.”

Trojans do not fuel rumors. On the contrary, they want to clarify them so that Jean feels accepted (Lucas does not, but because there is an obvious sentimental conflict).

What I want to say is that, although it shocks us and we don't see it as entirely correct, Jeremy's performance is, in part, appropriate. He tries to find Jean's need and conveys it to the people closest to him (Cat and Laila, with whom he lives) so that they know that there are limits and a series of problems to deal with that Jean does not want to confront.

The goal is to “be careful” and “watch out” for a catastrophic reaction. The goal is to create a pleasant and appropriate environment that can “push” Jean to seek the help he needs.

With the little information Jean gives them, the Trojans are creating a safety net that can pick him up and propel him toward help.

Kevin, Renee, Abby and Wymack did something similar. They would not allow Jean to return to the Ravens even though that was what he wanted. They ignored his consent because they knew he was not of sound mind.

Jeremy, Cat and Laila are doing exactly the same thing. Jean may not like it (actually, I don't think Jean is against this, correct me if I'm wrong), but this is what he needs FOR NOW.

Since Jean has had great problems with consent and limits, the fact that the Trojans talk about what Jean experienced without his consent seems like an attack against him, but let's not forget that this will not always be the case. This is an exceptional circumstance.

The ultimate goal is for Jean to be able to say no and establish clear limits, developing autonomy. But right now, if given that facility, we know what would happen.

Jean would not seek help, he would continue to feed her brainwashing, he would continue to think that he deserved the worst and... most likely, one day he would end his life, without caring about Kevin's promise.

Let's not confuse talking about a person's situation discreetly to their close circle with the sole objective of HELPING and SEEKING SOLUTIONS, with generating rumors to DESTROY him.

Let us also not forget that this is a TEMPORARY situation until Jean regains his personal autonomy. The boy is brainwashed. Until this goes away, Jean needs a few very very gentle (keep that in mind, Abby) slaps of reality to wake up.

This is what Cat, Jeremy and Laila are working on in hopes that Jean will get the boost he needs ON HIMSELF.

[friedwings]

I wouldn't say you need to be really freaked out about this right now since there are few cases currently for both cats and humans. if you or your cat are not around any birds or cattle regularly, and you're not feeding them any raw dairy or meats (or have any of these in the house that could expose both of you), you should be fine. I'll elaborate a bit and wanted to refute some things OP said.

the most important thing to prevent transmission to cats is not giving them raw dairy or meats. everything needs to be pasteurized and cooked. food is likely to be the cause of transmission for the big cat sanctuaries, because they feed them raw meats. eating wild birds is of course counted in that. if your cat is supervised so they are not in close contact with birds or their feeding, watering or nesting areas for prolonged periods of time, they are unlikely to catch the virus. there have not been many documented cases in domestic cats yet, and it seems like all of them are coming from raw foods.

I find no info anywhere recommending sanitation of your clothes unless you are directly working with infected animals. walking around in general is unlikely to make your shoes infectious. the virus is transmitted through direct contact of bodily fluids, or inhalation when you're around many infected animals in their areas contaminated by their excretions. if you're not walking around in a highly contaminated area, your cat is not going to sniff your shoe and get sick. they will probably not lick your shoes either. but if your cat is a shoe licker, it's not much better for them to be licking bleach. just keep your shoes away from your cat if you're concerned they're going to be weird about it.

I'd say supervised walks might be safer than a catio, I think birds are more attracted to these sheltered areas and they can get in them. they should be supervised in the catio also for this reason. even if you screen off the catio now, some birds may have been hanging out or nesting in there previously, especially if you have any water or anything they can eat in there or nearby. some random place you'd take your cat outside for a walk like alongside a street is probably less likely to have had exposure to birds.

if you want to supervise your cat in their catio, and you know or not sure birds were in or around it, you should screen it with a very fine mesh and try to clean it out best you can. get those crevices birds like. if you were feeding and watering birds near the catio, you should move these things further away. wear PPE and clean these things regularly.

be aware there are no vaccines for cats for this virus. monitor your cat closely for symptoms and take them to the vet ASAP if you notice anything. it's always more likely they can make it through an infection or any other issue if it's caught early and they receive the care they need to recover promptly.

Please please please PLEASE keep your cats indoors right now. H5N1 (HPAI, highly pathogenic avian influenza) is zoonotic to cats, and it is just as deadly for them. Additionally, if you have a way to keep your shoes away from your cat(s), or sanitize them after being out in the world (bleach footbath for example), a little biosecurity wouldn't hurt.

A sanctuary in Washington just lost 20 of their rescue big cats to this virus. It is not getting less dangerous for your cats this year than it was last.

It has ALWAYS been dangerous to let house cats free roam without supervision, but it's becoming dangerous right now to be taking them on leashes if they will have access to ground birds have recently been on, or water they have accessed. Catios might be okay, if they're covered and well-screened, but I would take a moment to subscribe to your local state ag department's email or phone alerts for HPAI in your area, and react accordingly even for covered outdoor areas.

Keep the Kitties Safe!

[nixthelapin]

Midnight Thought on the Ithaca Saga (spoilers)

When Athena is hoping for a kinder world, I like how Odysseus doesn’t shoot her down (I think he had his fill of that with the suitors, ha ha ha), but just says it won’t be in his life. Why? Because he’s not saying it’s impossible, just that that kind of change takes more time and sacrifice than he can give. And that actually reminded me of something: in the Bible, King David wanted to build a temple to God, but God said no because of all the blood on his hands- David was a king during wartime, he is not meant to lead Israel in peace. But his son, Solomon? He would be the peacetime king, he built the temple, and coincidentally was also known for his wisdom (and his 700 concubines, but that’s irrelevant here).

Basically- TELEMACHUS AND ATHENA WORKING TO MAKE THE WORLD BETTER!!!

[I don’t really think Jorge was using the David-Solomon thing as inspiration or a reference, I just thought it was a cool similarity- especially the wisdom part, which I only realized while writing this. ]

Telemachus wants to “bring the world some light,” and she accepted his friendship rather than just a mentor-mentee relationship, showing that she’s opening her arms. Together, they can make a greater tomorrow that she couldn’t do with Odysseus. His part in the war was important, but there’s still work to be done, work Telemachus is very eager to accomplish.

He was also just coming back from a “diplomatic mission,” which shows more of that open arms mindset, something even the more innocent version of Odysseus didn’t really do! (I know in the actual Odyssey he went in search of his dad, but I don’t think that’s the same case here since there was no mention of a plan to do that on his end, plus Jorge had to change how Odysseus actually made it back to the island to fit his story.) Diplomacy is a lot about alliances and making peace, not about outsmarting/outmaneuvering enemies. It still requires wisdom and intelligence, but the world is not changed for the better by swords alone.

Odysseus’ story required him to embrace ruthlessness, but because of that, his son Telemachus doesn’t have to.

And I am so PSYCHED for the new wisdom duo. GO MAKE A GREATER TOMORROW!!!

[edit: it also ties into one of Circe’s last lines: “maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more”]

[psychoticallykind]

Jegumas Day Twenty-Four - The Night Before Christmas

576 words

@noblehouseofgay

--------------------------------------------------------------

“You seem sad.”

“No,” Regulus denied. “Not sad.”

“No?” James leaned against the wall next to him. “Okay. What are you?”

“I’m,” Regulus paused, struggling to find the words. “I’m quiet.”

“You’re quiet?” James checked.

“Mmhm.” Regulus tapped gently against the wall, not sure how to explain. “I’m not - I’m not sad about anything. But I - I don't know.” He frowned. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

“Yes,” James replied. He sounded concerned. “It is Christmas Eve.”

“And I’ve never celebrated Christmas Eve before,” he admitted. “It - it wasn’t important in my house. We were supposed to be quiet so that they could focus on the important things for Christmas - the guest lists and such. So I know how to be quiet. I - I like being quiet, James.”

Regulus chanced looking at the other boy. “You aren’t quiet. It’s - here - it isn’t quiet. You have stories and cookies and music, and there’s this whole thing about it being the night before Christmas and I’m not used to any of it mattering. I’m not used to mattering - James, it’s loud here, everyone knows how to be loud and I don’t.”

James blinked, very obviously confused. “Are we being too loud for you? Do you need to hide in my room for a bit? Or yours, obviously.”

Regulus shook his head. “No, I - I have a room?”

“Of course,” James told him. “You’ve been staying in mine, but you have your own. It’s across from Remus’s.”

Regulus tried to process that, failed, and decided it was definitely a later problem. “Right. No, I don’t need to hide. I just don’t know how to stop being quiet, and I don’t think I really want to stop being quiet, but you guys aren’t quiet and I don’t want to ruin your evening.”

“Do you think it bothers us that you’re quiet?” James asked, voice colored with alarm. He stepped away from the wall, turning to face Regulus directly. “Reg, we love you however you are. If you like being quiet, then be quiet. It’s okay.”

Regulus met his eyes, heart pounding. “But none of you are quiet. Even Sirius isn’t like me, I - I don’t fit.”

“There is no one in the world like you,” James replied softly. “And that is not a bad thing. You’re quiet, and smart, and funny, and beautiful, and we are grateful to have you here. No one here wants you to be anything you’re not. I promise.”

Grateful.

Regulus swallowed hard, blinking away tears. “You said ‘we love you’.”

James nodded. “I did.”

“Did you - “ Regulus stopped, shaking his head. “Never mind. Thank you, James.”

“What were you going to say?”

Regulus took a deep breath. “Nothing important.”

James nodded, looking almost hesitant. “Hey, Reg?”

Hope flickered in his chest. “Yes?”

James took his hand, squeezing gently. “I love you.”

“You do?” Regulus asked, and immediately winced. “Merlin, sorry, that wasn’t a good reaction -”

“I do,” James interrupted, smiling. “I love you. I’m in love with you, just as you are.”

Regulus sucked in a breath, pulling his hand out of James’s so that he could wrap the other boy in a tight hug. “I love you, too.”

James hugged him just as tightly, and they stayed there for a bit.

It was safe, and quiet, and comforting in a way Regulus wasn’t used to yet.

But that was okay.

He would get there.

[kendrysaneela]

Genuinely. I really need people to stop saying “It’s only canon if they kiss” because 1. That means we will never get a slowburn queer relationship because no one will ever believe it without a kiss 2. That destroys queercoding. Which is a very important part of queer representation. And queercoding is not queerbaiting please learn the difference. 3. Not to mention how much queer representation we’d lose from history if kissing is a necessity for the representation to exist.

And then here’s a more modern example. So on the Kevin Can Fuck Himself there’s these two women Allison and Patty. This show was made by a queer woman. Allison and Patty are both stuck under the control of these abusive men. Patty stuck under the control her little brother who keeps her under his control out of guilt from their childhood. And Allison who’s stuck with her abusive husband mentally and financially. And also possibly even physically though that’s never explicitly stated the threat of that just lies in the air. And the show is basically Allison and Patty working together to escape the abusive men in their lives. And throughout this process they start to fall in love with each other. This is made so incredibly clear by the show. And Patty eventually becomes a canon lesbian. (She never says the word lesbian but they make that clear) Patty is more obviously in love with Allison most likely because she’s a canon lesbian whereas Allison’s sexuality is more still up in the air and she’s sleeping with a different guy. But it’s there you can see it. And we had it confirmed offscreen by the showrunner that Patty was in love with Allison and we know that because Patty said “Maybe can die alone together” and that was confirmed as an “I love you” by the showrunner. They’re leaning their heads together with their eyes closed when this scene happens. Very romantically coded. Then the show got prematurely cancelled halfway through the second season so they had to rush to wrap everything up in the second half of season 2. So Allison and Patty escape the abusive men in their lives much quicker than originally planned and in a different way than originally planned. Also lots of the original storyline between Allison and Patty had to be cut out because of it leading to a loss of development we otherwise would’ve gotten. But in the end they meet up again and they sit on the steps of Allison’s house and Patty says “Let’s die alone together” and Allison repeats “Let’s die alone together” now it’s already been established by the showrunner that this means “I love you” so you can take from that that they are in love with each other and somewhere down the line they will become a real couple. And that they will be together forever. The showrunner said about that scene “They are romantically alone but always together” or something like that. And SO MANY PEOPLE decided that because they didn’t kiss or say I love you that the entire show was a waste and all their romantic scenes were for naught just because they didn’t kiss or say “I love you” at the end and the QUEER showrunner didn’t explicitly say “That scene means they’re in love” and a big reason I saw people give for being angry at that was that “Straight people won’t know they’re queer they can just deny it if it’s not explicit!” And here’s the thing. Not only should we not be defining queer representation by how straight people view it but also straight people will deny canon queer representation even if they DO kiss!

Like for example on the show Doctor Odyssey there’s a canon slowburn mmf throuple. It’s been confirmed by the actors and showrunners that them being a throuple is going to be being explored this season on the show. All three of the characters Max,Avery and Tristan have all slept together once and they’ve all stated they liked it and the next episode they discussed the idea of polyamory and they showed us a polyamorous couple that was together and happy had all the characters discuss what polyamory is how it works and how it’s valid. The female character Avery very much wants them to be a throuple after their threesome and discusses it with the boys using the words “Throuple” and “Polyamorous” onscreen. the boys are still reluctant at the moment but they’ll get there they just need a second to get used to the idea. It’s basically as canon as canon can get before they actually become fully canon. And lemme repeat. Avery is the character who’s the most onboard for them being a throuple this is canon. They make this very explicit. She initiates the threesome and she spends an entire episode trying to convince the boys to be in a throuple with her. Yet yesterday? I saw an article talking about “Who should Avery choose?” Between the two boys. When the whole storyline of theirs is she isn’t going to choose nor does she want to. But yet there was an article STILL not getting it. Even with the words POLYAMOROUS AND THROUPLE being used in an episode MULTIPLE times and them all having slept together AND CANONICALLY ENJOYING IT. (They say so in words onscreen) And yet there the article was still denying it because it wasn’t fully canon yet. That’s what I’m talking about. Even when it is explicit as explicit as explicit can be straight people are going to deny it. So why are we defining our own queer rep by how straight people view it? It’s ours not theirs. They can come along and enjoy it if they choose they’re completely welcome! The more the merrier! But we shouldn’t define rep for us by how theyll view it. Because some straight people will never accept queer rep as real no matter how explicit it is. So their opinion doesn’t matter.

Discussions of what "counts" as "canon" queer representation fall apart the second you start talking about media older than about five years or so. If your only metric for "canon queerness" is a character looking directly into the camera and explaining their identity in specific, modern, US-American-English terminology, you're not going to get a good picture of what queer media looks like. If your barometer for what counts as "canon" requires two characters of the same gender to kiss on-screen, you're not going to get a good picture of what queer media looks like.

Dr. Septimus Pretorius (portrayed by Ernest Thesiger in 1935's Bride of Frankenstein) was never going to look directly into the camera and explain his sexuality in 2024 terms, but he remains an icon in queer media history. You cannot look at that character (blatantly queer-coded in the manner of the time, played by a queer man in a film directed by another queer man) and tell me that he isn't a part of queer media history.

To be honest, even when discussing modern queer media, I would argue that the popular idea of what "counts" as "canon" is very narrow and flawed. I've seen multiple posts in the past few days that say the Nimona movie is "implied" trans representation, and I just...no, y'all, it's not "implied," it's an allegory. The entire damn movie is about transgender struggle, and the original comic is deeply tied into N.D. Stevenson's own queer journey. It isn't subtle. You cannot look at that movie and pretend that it isn't about trans struggle. It's blatant, and to say that Nimona "isn't canonically trans" is a take that misses the story's entire message, and the blatant queerphobia that almost kept the movie from happening. (I wrote a five thousand word essay about the topic.)

Queer themes, queer coding, queer exploration, and queer representation can all exist in a piece of media that doesn't seem to have "canon queer characters" on the surface. Most queer characters are never going to be able to explicitly state their specific identity labels, be it due to censorship or just due to the fact that scenes like that don't fit in some narratives. Some stories aren't conducive to a big "so what's your identity?" scene.

Explicit, undeniable, "this is my identity in no uncertain terms" scenes are very important and radical, and I'm not saying they shouldn't ever exist. I am saying that you can't consider those scenes the only way for queerness in a piece of media to be "canon."

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Relationship Headcanons - Ganyu x Male!Reader

A/N1: This is a new format, and as such, it includes just one character. Do you think it's comprehensive enough, or is there something I missed? A/N2: When I looked for a gif for this one, I found that the gif I used in the "at the dead of night" Ganyu fic is one of the first results when you search up her name. Nice to know I have somewhat of an impact, small as it may be. A/N3: While I was thinking of making a Christmas special, I decided that the best gift for you guys would just be getting posts out more regularly - so I will post them at least twice a week for the next three weeks at the very least. Anyway, happy Christmas, and enjoy!

Loving Ganyu requires patience and the gentlest approach, but her affection eventually blossoms on its own. She just needs a bit of time and guidance - it's her first time, after all. 

Being a notoriously hardcore worker, at first she'll be absent from home for most of the day. Her work-life balance is completely off the rails, and Ganyu will need all the help she can get in overcoming her centuries old habits. Now she has someone, remind her. Tell her that this special someone cares for her very much and would rather not see her worn out like an old pair of boots each night. 

An important skill you have to teach her is saying the word “no”. “No, I won't accept overtime”. “No, I have plans this evening”. “No, putting the entirety of Qixin paperwork on my shoulders is not ethical or healthy - Ningguang needs more than three secretaries”. In time, Ganyu will find it in herself to set healthy boundaries on how much she works. True, helping Liyue grow and prosper is her passion, but enough is as good as a feast. 

Walk alongside her on this road. Visit her at work, if only to give her a simple kiss on the forehead. Make sure she comes up from the underworld of bureaucracy to the real world. Bring her light snacks. Ask her about her day. Remind her that there is someone waiting for her back home - she will appreciate that beyond words. 

Working for the Liyue Qixing means basically swimming in Mora - especially that Ganyu leads a rather humble lifestyle. She does, however, live in a very nice multi-story house with a large garden in the most scenic part of Liyue Harbor, with a skeleton crew of staff to maintain in her absence (that being most of the time). But besides that, her expenditures are very small and everything she doesn't need or put aside, she donates to charity. 

While having a boyfriend is nice, she would feel much better if she’d be able to refer to you as her husband instead. Especially that she would prefer to save herself for the wedding night, and make your first “proper” time really beautiful and special. Ganyu is also a bit subservient to you, used to the idea that the husband is the head of the house - no matter if she has more money. At the same time, she is happy to be taken care of and protected, so as long as you treat her right, she’ll be comfy. 

While Ganyu isn't one to insist on much in a relationship, she will encourage you to live with her. Her house is big and quite empty… Having you there would liven it up and surely make it much cozier. Coming home to a warm hug and a kiss from her lover is a dream come true…

In terms of past times, well… Ganyu doesn't have much. Her work is her main pastime, or was anyway, and she didn't really see a reason to look for other things to do in her spare time. Just a few conversations with you made her realise that, while you have a broad range of things to talk about, she doesn't quite compete in that regard. Hundreds of years of paperwork made poor Ganyu quite a one-note person, but she will work on that, don't worry. 

And so she will frequently come up with things to do, together. Would you like to go to a museum? Or see a movie from Fontaine? You don't have to go with her, but… It would be really nice if you did!

Have any problems at school or at work? Personal Secretary Ganyu is on the case! She's had lots of experience in all sorts of matters and will gladly put it to use in helping out her favourite person succeed. She's a patient teacher and never raises her voice, no matter how hard it is for you to learn or do something. With her backing you up, nothing is impossible. 

Ganyu, by her own admission, gains weight easily, so while the urge to fatten her up with love and Qixins is huge, she'll be grateful if you hold your horses. Her thoughts always spiral into self consciousness about weight, so it might be a good idea not to include chocolate. However, a more tender approach to her and her beautiful body - with countless kisses and words of affirmation - may change her outlook on herself. If you do get her something to eat, make sure to feed her - she couldn't say no to you. 

Arguments with Ganyu are white crows in your day-to-day life. Being a timid and easy going person, it takes an impossible amount of pressure to make Ganyu lose her composure. If that somehow happens, she will be so upset that her anger will almost instantly fade into tears. She just cannot fight with you. You mean far, far too much for her to be angry. No matter if it's her fault or yours, she will end up apologising for it profusely, hoping to get past this dreadful road bump. Ganyu knows that she is prone to doing this, and will try to be a bit more decisive, only to fail spectacularly. No matter - she trusts you to never abuse that part of her character. 

And don't you dare, Ganyu has to be protected at all costs. 

At home, she’s a quiet and busy presence - even if it happens to be that time of the month. Ganyu doesn’t really struggle with illnesses or bodily discomfort that much, for which she is really thankful to the fates. At most, when afflicted by either, she’ll get extra sleepy and will love some extra cuddles to make the pains go away. 

You are probably the only person in Teyvat that has the right to touch her horns. They are indeed sensitive, but with the right guidance, the feelings of having these caressed are simply divine. Having their horns touched is a very intimate experience for Qilin, and Ganyu is no different. It will always be in bed, cuddled into each other and falling asleep, or while engaging in more lively bedroom activities. 

Ganyu has some friends and family, and they are quite happy to keep an eye on her. Xianyun will make sure that you are a proper man worthy of her disciple’s hand, and when she does confirm that fact, expect to hear all about Ganyu’s early life, as well as past hobbies and habits; knowing them might prove useful even in the present day. She will also make frequent visits, if that’s something you are okay with. Shenhe, on the other hand, will not follow you around per se - not you as a couple, that is. Because she will keep an eye on you. If you ever raise your hand at Ganyu, expect to be skewered and served at the next Lantern Rite’s banquet. But as with Cloud Retainer, if you prove yourself to be a good man, expect the same level of protection for yourself - Shenhe knows that your safety is Ganyu’s happiness, and if anything were to happen to you, her adoptive sister would cry her soul out. 

Zhongli, being Zhongli, will gladly officiate the wedding. 

The secretary is a girl that goes to sleep and wakes up early. She eats healthy and exercises just enough to keep herself from rusting over. Her house is perfectly clean, both thanks to her own efforts and those of her staff, and full of well-tended plants. She's a neat, well-organized and healthy little goat. If it makes you feel bad for your own lifestyle (and it should), Ganyu will be happy to help you care for yourself by cooking healthy meals for you, reminding you of your goals and helping you be consistent. For what? Why, for the delightful moment when you look at yourself in the mirror and finally smile at all the work you have done. Your happiness is her happiness. 

Acts of service are her form of love. If you happen to come home later than her, you'll arrive to a nice bowl of warm soup, held by your dear wife. You casually mentioned that you need to, say, iron your shirt tomorrow? Ganyu's got you - even if she had to wake up that little bit earlier to do it. Maybe you're talking about a difficult achievement in one of your video games? If you teach her how to help, she'll be glad to tune in and grind with you. Whenever you act surprised at her actions, or say that she ‘didn’t have to’, Ganyu will always replay with a kind smile and reassurance - she does it because she loves you. 

She's the most receptive to physical touch. Sometimes things are going badly and the reasons for it are exhausting to put into words. Those days Ganyu would like nothing more than a simple embrace, your hand in hers, a gentle kiss on the forehead. Your touch reminds her that everything will be alright, and that she does not have to brave the world alone anymore. 

Thanks for reading!

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I find it really hilarious the Riot and the producers and such are still trying to push this "Jayce and Viktor are brothers" thing.

This post is not for the non Jayvik shippers so if you don't like it keep scrolling

But there are some very clearly romantic interactions between Jayce and Viktor that just are not brotherly at all

There is a difference between playfully messing up your brothers hair and ruffling it affectionately

There is a difference between paying attention when your brother talks and watching his lips as he does so

There is a difference between remembering important moments with your brother and outlining certain features of theirs in said memory which were not part of the original moment

There is a difference between being aware of your brothers needs and knowing how to build their literal mobility aid from scratch

There is a difference between being thankful and relieved that your friend is alive and being torn to shreds over surviving

There is a difference between having your brother's back and choosing to potentially die or be erased from existence with him

I know we need to push more healthy platonic male relationships but Jayce and Viktor are not one those pairs.

They are not brothers. They are partners in every sense of the word. I don't understand why Riot would think we would be convinced otherwise