#and there's a lot to say and analyze about that and it doesn't MATTER that that's not what george wanted to talk about

[wendeeesaucy]

Prob people have talked about this before but I really like analyzing the little micro expressions and lines from Astarion. Specifically I wanted to talk about the line he has when he tries different lines to flirt with tav/durge.

So I got that scene during the tiefling party after already spending the night with him before. I'm guessing you can get that scene after the party if you're approval wasn't high enough to have been with him already but I'm going with my playthrough.

Personally, I like the flow of it better. Tav/durge has already established a sort of companions (barely friends) with benefits sort of situation with him and having this sort of banter seems to fit well. I think it's also one of those few early moments tav/durge is hinting that they know that he's one for manipulating and embellishing words in their relationship (like in an earlier scene where you could figure out that his smile is too perfect and that you shouldn't believe a word he says).

It's awareness, it's playfulness. Because tav/durge is explaining that they are in on this facade but still stringing themselves along, almost as if they're agreeing with this being an odd relationship of trysts and dalliances in an otherwise perilous adventure that they all have no idea if they'll make it out from.

That's how this flirty, teasing back and forth starts. You can keep up the 'yeah, haha, try harder because I'm not falling for it' options and that only motivates him to throw more ridiculously flowery lines.

Though ironically the one about 'it's as if the gods made you just to ruin me' is pretty accurate because tav/durge essentially ruins him/his plans especially for a spawn Astarion ending. But that's not the one I'm most interested in every time I watch this scene. It's the 'I love you' one.

Now, we are going with the idea that this banter since the beginning was all in good fun. Tav/durge knows what this is leading to, this is just banter to go along with the eventual yes that will surely follow to spend another night with him. While the first few flirting lines starting from 'here's my little treat' were a build up from the next, the last one seems oddly misplaced and a curve ball to me. We go from physical aspects to suddenly jumping to a less tangible and deeper way of expressing interest, love.

It doesn't help that we get this face to go along with it, which already is vastly different to the smirks and smug expressions we got seconds before.

Sure, you could argue that this was his way of throwing tav/durge off so they could stop being smug themselves at finding his flirty words ridiculous because he goes right back to being normal afterwards. But the thing about Astarion is that sometimes a lot of times he's bad at hiding his emotions. He lets words slip without thinking or a micro expression happens for just a split second but it's noticeably there especially on a second or third playthrough.

So to me, when I see this expression, I personally think this is a genuine face and a somewhat genuine answer.

Now you'd think I'm just falling for his manipulations but the reason I can't seem to shake that thought is because in his act 2 scene where he says 'no matter how much I'd like to' when he talks about how difficult it is being with someone and essentially caring about them deeply, we get this same expression.

It's literally the same expression, the same vulnerability except now we have more honesty and context to what it means. Tav/durge by now has learned to read him better and understand when he's being truthful. And not even just his face, his voice going softer in both scenes too!

So when we go back to that flirting lines scene, it really feels out of place and for good reason. I've heard people say it's him testing the waters and I personally think so too! He's gotten tav/durge in this place of teasing 'haha, all in good fun' mood and uses that to his advantage to throw them off by seeing how they'd react to him of all people saying I love you suddenly to them. Would they be disgusted? Tell him, yeah in his dreams? Or would they be shocked, because it sounded too good to be true? That they would like it to be true too?

It might also be his way of just blurting out a thought he's had for some time, especially if you've already spend the night with him before the party and gotten to know him a little better. By then, he's already seen tav/durge help him a few times and successfully done something as the party leader, making him question just who this person is to him. After all, he's had no choice but to acknowledge this person's existence because they are not another target that's bound to disappear like the others he's bedded before.

So when looking further into the scene, he's not only testing tav/durge on their reactions but also himself and how he personally feels about that statement. He probably wants to see how it sounds in reality, not as some random thought to be forgotten. And maybe, just maybe he could see himself believing that to be true.

He might not be in love with tav/durge to the degree that he does in act 2 but I'd argue he was def falling by then if he felt throwing that line into the open was necessary.

And when you end it off with the 'having fun, are you?' line and get him to say 'I am. It's hard not to with you' it really feels like you're getting a tiny bit closer to wedging yourself into his heart.

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: Red tinted lover

Warning: No warnings! GN!reader, fluff and teasing.

Author's note: Inspired by a cute ramble of anon!

What makes Zayne blush:

Compliment him and brag about him in front of his peers and yours. Being his lover, you observed a lot of things from him. Zayne performs minuscule acts of kindness when the situation calls for it, and sometimes, he does it in private, hidden from others' sight. When you bring these up, most people are impressed, but Zayne, on the other hand, is just beside you or nearby, listening to you ramble about his actions.

"You're super red."

"I am not," he politely replied.

"Yes, you are," you said in a singsong. "You're super red like a tomato. Is it because I complimented you a lot?"

Zayne doesn't respond and avoids eye contact. You cup his cheeks, and he is forced to look at you, wide eyes wide open. What he sees is your cheeky grin; behind it is the real intent of why you said those things about him. "Aren't you just the cutest? The cold and stoic Dr. Zayne blushing because his lover complimented him. Wouldn't that make a good headline for the hospital publication?"

You grab the opportunity to pinch his nose lightly, and he pulls away, no less red than before.

"You're so cute, I just want to—" You made a gesture of your fingers squeezing his cheeks.

"I can't help but think that you orchestrated this to get a reaction from me."

"Maybe I did, maybe not." You shrugged with a chuckle, giving him a sly expression.

"Cunning as always." The surgeon shook his head and turned away, hoping that he would return to his original complexion before someone else saw him.

What makes Rafayel blush:

Claim him and be jealous. Rafayel is naturally a magnet for people. No matter how much he likes his peace, people would flock to him all the time, both boys and especially girls. Sometimes, he has a hard time turning people down and is overwhelmed by their presence; he's sometimes unable to refuse a picture or two. That's when you come in. Confidently, you would hook yourself onto his arm and lean on him. When people ask who you are, you would say your name. And when people ask what you are to Rafayel, you would simply reply: "I'm Rafayel's wife. Do you need something from my husband?". The ladies who had ulterior motives backed away almost instantly.

"You're really a woman magnet, aren't you Rafa—" You turn to look at him in exasperation but pause. "Rafayel?"

The artist was avoiding your eyes. He was facing you, but his head was turned elsewhere, and he was biting his lip. Moreover, his cheeks and neck were severely red, almost looking like a rash.

"Are you alright? Is it the alcohol?"

He gave you the silent treatment for a good 15 seconds before saying: "You really know how to get me going. Calling yourself my wife and all."

"Hey, I was helping you out there!"

"You're really bold."

You can't help but analyze him for a moment. He doesn't seem offended, and you didn't do anything particularly wrong…

Is he…

"Are you feeling shy?"

He glared at you, puffing his cheeks. A hearty laugh escaped your lips. Rafayel narrowed his eyes even more.

You press up against him and go on your tippy toes, smirking. "You're feeling shy because I called you my husband, weren't you?"

"Did not." He crossed his arms over his chest, but everything else says yes.

"Did too." You pinch both sides of his cheek, and he stares at you in awe.

"Aren't you a little bashful pufferfish?" He took a step back and turned around, facing the wall to avoid your little confrontation. But you can still see the nape of his neck, and his ears turn maddeningly red.

"Cutie~"

"You're getting more shameless by the minute. Once we get home, I'll take my revenge on you!"

"Sure you would—little blushing pufferfish." You cooed, slapping his butt before walking away.

"I swear on my words!" You hear him say.

What makes Sylus blush:

You can make Sylus blush if you boldly flirt with him and touch his butt. Being a feared man would mean that people would want to spend little to no time talking to him unless it's a negotiation—it's no surprise that people are on edge if they're talking face-to-face with a dangerous leader. When it comes to you, however, it looks like you don't fear anything in life when you try to pretend that you're a stranger and hit on him like one would in a bar.

"Hey, hot stuff," you're pressed against the doorframe, looking too suave for your own good. "You new here?"

He stares at you while he garnishes the steak on the plate. He raised an eyebrow. "Yes," he said simply, but evidently playing along with your antics.

"Do you need someone to accompany you, handsome?" you asked, walking closer.

"I am an engaged man," he matter-of-factly stated with a nod, turning to his task once more. "A loyal one at that."

While he does whatever he's doing, your eyes land on the prize. "Really now?"

That perky gifted butt, accentuated by his slim-fit black pants. You licked your lips and walked casually to where he was. "A wife shouldn't leave his husband alone now, shall they?"

He hummed.

"You're too handsome to be tied to a single woman," you whispered. "Care for another cuter company?"

When he looked at you, you slapped his ass.

He shot up and gripped the pepper mill tighter. Sylus let out a singular laugh, placing it down on the counter and rubbing his face, hiding the reddishness of his ears. "You really ought to know who you're dealing with, sweetie."

He pushed himself away from the counter and walked closer to you, a sense of doom swallowing you as he got closer and closer with every step. Sylus bent down and picked you up by your knees, throwing you over his shoulder before a loud slap reverberated in the room.

Sylus returned the gesture to your ass.

He began walking towards the bedroom. "Sylus, I'm just kidding! No! Sylus! No! Ah?!" You clawed and held on to the doorframe, your life flashing before your eyes.

What makes Xavier blush:

Coax him to do something cute. It was easy to make Xavier blush as long as you were in the right environment. Sometimes, making him blush deliberately is also easy if you manage to play your cards right. It's not that he hates acting cute, but no one ever really asks him to do those things and wear cutesy stuff, so when you ask him to do it, he's a bit reluctant, but he doesn't want to disappoint.

"I promise I did not eat the last cake slice." Xavier placed his hand on his chest.

"Hmm. I don't believe you." You held out the empty Tupperware with an accusatory glare thrown at your boyfriend. "Wear the headband behind you and say 'Nyaa' three times. If you don't, then you're lying."

His eyes went wide. He slowly turned behind him and saw a conveniently placed cat ear headband resting on the console table. He held it and looked into your eyes with pity; a part of him smelled like something was going on, but you kept up the angry facade.

He sighed and put the headband on. Balling his fists and letting out cute 'nyaa~'s. With every sound he makes, he turns a shade darker until his face is fully red, and his eyes dart away from you.

He kept his little 'paws' near his chin. You held back a laugh. You were just messing with him. He seemed so innocent looking at you when you were mad—and maybe it was payback for last week when he hogged the blanket all to himself.

"I'm just joking, Xav." You pulled in closer, nudging his head to look up at you. You placed a kiss on his cheek.

"What?" you hear him say in disbelief, stricken with how you made a fool of him. Before he could retaliate at all, you opened your mouth and folded your lips inward to cover the tip of your teeth. You chomped on his face and pushed his face against yours.

"Mhmp!" he let out, holding on to your wrists. His cheek just looked so edible.

You let out a loud pop when you released him from your mighty grasp.

"You like making fun of me, don't you?" He was now glaring at you, albeit tenderly. There was a red mark left on his cheek, and you felt guilty for munching on it.

"Hehe~"

"In that case, let me bite you too…" Xavier yanked on your wrists, and the world suddenly began to tilt.

"Xavier, no—"

Author footnotes: I made Zayne and Xavier blush in game and I realized I was smiling stupid :>

Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost

[gotaksboyfie]

no one does na baekjin a lot it painsss meeee😭😞 pls do a na baekjin one!!! fem or gn reader :)

na baekjin sfw/boyfriend + nsfw hc's

general

gif creds: @goyurim

a/n i didn't know if you wanted sfw/nsfw hc's so i just did both 🫶 on the shorter side, sorry(＃＞＜)!

sfw :

» a man of few words. he doesn't say much, but he'll always show you through his actions that he's listening. a slight nod or constant eye contact; no matter what, you know that he's genuinely listening to you even if he doesn't say it.

» he's not the biggest fan of pda, but he still likes holding onto you. he'll have a hand around your back and waist as you guys walk around, pulling you close in case anyone tries anything funny. it also serves as a nice reminder to others that you his and his only.

» in private though, he gets very clingy. he's constantly attached to your side and peppers your face with kisses. loves back hugs and kissing your nape while you cook. this man does an absolute 180 in private and gets all sappy with you

» favorite petname to use is baby. you're his baby and nothing will change that <3

» spoils you rotten. even if your eyes linger on something for a second too long, he'll already be making mental notes to buy it for you. your desk is full of random trinkets he buys for you. at this point, he's basically bought you an entire new wardrobe

» extremely attentive. baekjin's always analyzing your facial expressions and body language to find out how you're feeling. if he notices you feeling a little down, he'll hold you tighter and buy you more things you like

» struggles with communicating. he hates being vulnerable in front of you because he doesn't want you to think he's weak. it takes a lot of reassurance, but baekjin's slowly able to talk about his feelings without being dodgy about it

» his love language is acts of service. from everything he buys to him doing small tasks like cutting your steak for you, it's how he shows that he loves you. he's practically at your beck and call, because he'll do anything that you want

» he's so gentle around you, it's a complete shock to anyone that knows him. he touches you like you're made of glass, and you melt under his touch. his voice also takes a much softer tone whenever he's talking to you

» takes him a while to say "i love you" back. the first time you say it, he freezes up and smiled at you, kissing your lips softly. you panic slightly at first, wondering why he didn't say it until you realize that he's been saying it through his actions the entire time. when he does finally say it back, you tease him for taking so long.

nsfw :

» precise with every movement. the first few times, he spends time gauging your movements to see which spots are best. using what he knows, he'll always reduce you to a whimpering mess.

» on the skinnier side, but makes up with it in length (about 6in). he can easily reach deep in you, drilling against all your sweet spots

» because of the union, he often comes home late where you're already fast asleep. after some discussion, you agree to baekjin using you while you sleep. baekjin loves somno, and he takes his time just admiring you. seeing your unrestrained moans and reactions while you sleep soundly is so hot to him. he likes taking his time when you're like this, letting you slowly wake up to him gently thrusting into you

» when baekjin's feeling too tired to fuck you after a long night, some lazy morning sex is perfect for him. he's always up before you, making it easy for him to slip your pants down and slide home. he'll still be sleepy as he spoons you, enjoying the pleasure instead of chasing his orgasm. when you wake up though, he'll start speeding up.

» favorite position is doggy style. he just really likes seeing your back, and watch as you move your hips to meet his. when your arms collapse, he'll push your head down and pull your ass up more, fucking you into the mattress

» into blindfolds. either you or him works fine. the uncertainty when he's blind folded heightens everything he feels, and he loves the added sensitivity. when you're blindfolded, you get more desperate for his touch. his fingers will lightly move up and down, only giving into your desires after lots and lots of begging

» when you propose the idea of you "working" under his desk at the bowling alley, he's unsure. he doesn't know what to think of public sex but when you guys do it, he's instantly all for it. keeping a poker face while you greedily suck on his cock unknown to others adds an exhilarating thrill

» secretly loves it when you leave scratches on his back. he'll admire them in the mirror, knowing you were feeling so good because of him. the pain also burns in a good way when you do it to him, giving him more motivation to make you feel even better

[illyrianbitch]

Of Our Own Devices — Part Two

For @erisweekofficial Day 2: Legacy

Pairing: Reader x Eris

Summary: Eris Vanserra carries a legacy of cruelty, a reputation forged in whispers and fear. But something doesn't quite fit anymore. You’re beginning to think that the male doesn't truly match the legend he's left behind.

Warnings: brief mentions of abuse, cruelty, injury, battling to death, introspection? like a lot, readers head is soooo big from these big thoughts

Word Count: 3.1k

did someone say eris week mini series???? technically can be read as a stand alone, just squint

Part One | Part Three

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

When Eris Vanserra was born, his mother wept in the bathroom for hours after.

Her trembling hands muffled her soft cries as her handmaidens swaddled a newborn Eris in fine cloth. Beron hadn’t been there for most of the birth—hadn’t held her hand the way her father had held her mother’s. He came only at the end, just in time to praise the heir as he left her womb, presenting him like a trophy before promptly leaving for court business.

She was still young, felt like a child herself��� at least in her own mind. So, while she loved her son dearly, his birth had cemented her fate to a male she didn’t love, a male whose hands she feared more than death itself.

His mother loved him, this Eris knew. Even at a young age, he felt that love. It burned in him like a comforting flame, the same warmth as the heavy blanket she would tuck around him at night or the sunlight that seeped into his skin on warm afternoons.

And yet, even surrounded by that love, Eris grew up lonely.

His loneliness led him to finding a home in curiosity, in sticking his pointed nose into matters that often didn’t concern him, picking out small details he'd unconsciously store for later. He was a collector from the beginning—of people, of excuses, of emotions he had yet to name.

Perhaps that was why he was so sickeningly fond of you, so starkly different from the others, equally curious, equally lonely.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It wasn't Eris who people met first.

It was his reputation.

Eldest son of the High Lord, equal parts cunning and cruel, a loyal soldier with the venom of a viper. Anguish seemed to follow him, seemed to follow any with Vanserra blood, but there was something distinct about Eris, something divinely alluring. Terrifyingly sinful.

It was all true. So you weren't sure why it bothered you so much when your patrons talked about him, when his name was thrown into conversations surrounding the High Lord.

Your family's tavern was always filled with stories. Its dimly lit, worn wooden tables had overheard more whispered secrets and slurred confessions than you could ever count. Most nights were like this, with drinks spilling over into the laps of locals, the hum of conversation swirling in the air like smoke from the hearth. Tucked in a corner of the court’s lands, it was a place for those not high enough to feast in grand halls but not low enough to beg in the streets. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was home. A comfortable middle ground.

You placed a handful foaming drinks before the three males at the bar, taking a moment to analyze their appearance. They were relatively large, muscular builds hinting at some form of laborious profession. The callouses on their hands told you that they handled weapons often. But their clothes weren't nice enough to be one of Beron's men, weren't tailored enough to be one of Eris's either. Perhaps they were border patrollers, the lowest and grimiest of the forces.

They thanked you with lingering, appraising eyes as you moved away to fetch more drinks.

“I heard,” one of the them said, leaning closer to his companions, “that the eldest boy has a new game he plays with those who cross him. A real spectacle.”

The male next to him, the oldest of the three, nodded eagerly. “They say he’s got a private arena where he forces traitors to fight each other to the death. It’s supposed to be brutal—nothing but blood and screams. And Eris just sits there, like it’s a grand show.”

You clenched your teeth, turning around to face the wall behind you, forcing yourself to attend to the pile of glasses waiting to be wiped down. You tried to focus on your task, hoping to drown out their disturbing conversation, but it was no use. You could feel your grip tightening on the material of the rag, knuckles white as they continued to talk, their voices growing louder and louder with every drink they took.

It was a lie. A rumor. Nothing more.

Yes, Eris was cruel. He was manipulative and calculated. But you'd seen slivers of something else, something brighter, kinder, even. While you believed that a male should face the consequences of his actions, there was no honor in perpetuating lies that simply weren’t true.

It made no sense, anyway. Eris had done plenty of questionable things. There were multitudes of actions to choose from, many things worthy of criticism. There was no need to indulge in falsehoods. The image they painted of Eris—a male reduced to a sadistic spectator in a grotesque spectacle—seemed far removed even from him.

“A grand show?” the third scoffed. “He’s not just watching. He’s placing bets on who’ll survive, like it’s some sick sport. It’s all for his amusement. I’ve heard he gets pleasure out of the carnage. Let's his hounds ravage the bodies.”

A knot tightened in your chest and you gripped the glassware harder, cloth bunching in your grasp. Before you could register the motion yourself, you spun around, the movement abrupt enough to make the males flinch.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," you sneered. The males stiffened, large angry eyes boring into yours. You continued. "Bold of you to traverse around spreading rumors of a High Lord's son. Be grateful he isn't around to correct you himself."

You blinked, the anger draining away as quickly as it had surged, leaving a wave of embarrassment in its place. You took in the male’s faces—initially stunned, then quickly morphing into anger. It was an expected reaction from those who felt their pride wounded, especially from males who had just been scolded by a low-court fae like yourself.

You straightened, trying to regain your composure as you cleared your throat.

The largest of the men leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with a sneer. “Well, well, boys,” he drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. “I think our pretty little bartender might be one of the Princeling’s whores.”

You weighed your options as you stood there, hand still gripping the glass. For a fleeting moment, you were tempted to shatter it over his head. The thought of the glass breaking, of the shards embedding themselves in his skin, was almost satisfying.

But you didn't. Your father would be angry, would be disappointed above all. You needed the business.

You took a deep breath and your grip on the glass loosened.

“Allow me to apologize,” you said. “It seems I’m more sensitive about our court’s reputation than I realized. I don’t know what came over me. How about a round on the house?”

Their faces shifted to smug satisfaction as they accepted the offer with eager grins and, soon, their cups were filled once more. As they happily downed their next round of drinks, you slipped out from behind the bar.

The door’s bell chimed softly as you stepped outside, itching to find the heir that was imprinted into your mind.

Strangely enough, you knew exactly where he'd be.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You found him in a clearing south of The Forest House, an expansive area bathed in the warm light of the afternoon sun. It was a dedicated space for the hounds, adorned in various obstacles that Eris used during their training—wooden jumps, tunnels, and agility courses set up with careful precision. You'd seen the area of land a handful of times before, times when Lucien found Eris to argue or hurl curses.

You approached carefully, watching as Eris kneeled by one of the hounds, gently tending to what seemed to be a cut on its paw.

After a moment, he finally looked up, his gaze meeting yours. The corners of his mouth quirked upwards and a playful glint manifested in his eyes.

"Even after all these years, a vixen without a fox at her side is still a strange sight."

You gritted your teeth, taking a deep breath as your eyes roamed the face of the male before you.

It was an unnecessary jab.

Lucien hadn’t been by your side for centuries now. Though you had visited him as often as you could, the friendship you once shared had changed. He had changed. You had, too. You'd grown into your life at Autumn—managing the tavern that bore your family’s name and living vicariously through the stories that came your way.

The last time you had seen Lucien was marked by a change. You'd looked into his eyes and somehow understood that things were different beyond what had been anticipated.

"Why do you do that?" You asked. "Be a dick when you don't need to be?"

Eris stood, brushing his hands clean as the hound trotted away to rejoin the rest. He narrowed his eyes at you for a moment, a scrutinizing, analyzing moment. Then he offered you a shrug, something so casual and dismissive. You were sure it would've warded off anyone else, that his disinterestedness would have begun to tired them already, turn them the other way.

"Maybe it's part of my charm," he finally responded, "Or maybe I'm just a dick."

He made no attempt to hide the amusement in his voice as he emphasized your insult. Eris had been called many things— you'd heard them, even delivered a few of the titles. But so far, you were the only one to call him two things: a dick, and a prick. Perhaps it was delusion, but you swore that he seemed to enjoy it when you said such things, seemed to smirk in a way that wasn't just cruel, but impressed.

You rolled your eyes. "Most wouldn't wear that title with such pride."

He narrowed his eyes for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. "What's the use in denying my nature?"

You sighed, a sound of frustration, of annoyance. "Do you not grow bored of your little games?"

Eris rolled his shoulders and straightened his back. He always had immaculate posture, his stature was often so perfect that it was almost uncomfortable to witness. It emphasized his wealth, somehow— emphasized his power. He towered over you even more now.

"Did you seek me out solely to criticize me?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. "No."

"Then why?"

You still weren't entirely sure why you had come.

"Perhaps I was bored."

Eris raised an eyebrow. "Do you not have any friends?"

You bristled. "I have plenty." You paused, allowing your gaze to settle on the view before you, on the open land and the animals that in the open expanse. You turned back to Eris. "It's you that doesn't seem to have any. Your only companionship recently seems to be those hounds. I'm surprised you're not running on all fours."

Eris's expression shifted. He let out a small chuckle and you fought against the twitch in your lips, cursed the warmth that blossomed in your chest. But the amusement dissipated from his face soon after, replaced be a resolve of cold indifference. His eyes seemed tired in this light.

"As much as I…enjoy our little talks," He began after a moment, "I didn't ask for company. You should find someone who wants it."

A small sense of rejection passed through your skin like a cold, morning chill. You were never foolish enough to think Eris would welcome your presence with open arms and a smile, never naive enough to consider yourself anything more than semi-peaceful acquaintances. But still, there was something deep within you that wished he’d show you something beyond the disregard he showed others.

That wasn't a fool's wish— because you knew it was possible.

You'd seen it.

Strangely enough, you had. In the stolen glances when he thought no one was looking, how he lingered after you stumbled, offered a hand before quickly retracting it. There had been flowers at your door after your mother passed of Autumn fever, an unusual number of wealthy patrons who had frequented your father’s tavern for months afterward, tipping generously despite only having a drink or two. They all adorned attire of a specific, deep green that you’d come to recognize easily—the shade often worn by Eris’s personal guard.

His name was never attached to any of it, but you could trace it back to him. You'd always wondered why he'd never taken credit, never basked in somehow proving your presumptions about him wrong.

Twenty-nine year old you, freshly bonded to Lucien after he'd stumbled across your father's tavern, would be shocked that centuries later, she'd be spending more time alongside his cruel brother than Lucien himself.

You’d had an image of Eris back then—an image painted by Lucien’s words. It was accurate, to an extent. You never doubted your best friend’s judgment, never questioned the stories of cruelty and ambition that followed Eris like a shadow. He had, indeed, made Lucien suffer. There were reasons he disliked his brothers so deeply, reasons you knew were valid.

But you were curious by nature, always craving to understand things deeply, intricately. And Eris Vanserra called to you like a riddle from an ancient tale—dangerous, alluring, and impossible to ignore.

Above all else, you wanted answers. Throughout the years, Eris had never called upon your bargain, never asked for a favor, never even mentioned the price you’d paid for that first visit with Lucien. Not once.

It unnerved you.

"I don't understand you," you said, without realizing the words had fallen from your lips.

You hadn't intended on voicing it so blatantly. You weren't quite sure how Eris would respond, how he would interpret your words. It was a tossup, really, between a snarky response or something condescending, something to make you feel silly, naive.

Silence.

Eris shifted, turning his body to look out into the horizon before him.

"Not everything in life is meant to be understood."

You paused.

Eris was complicated. Unfortunately for you, you loved complicated. It wasn't boring. It made you think, made you wonder. You gravitated towards the eldest Vanserra more often than you'd like to admit. It was easier now, you decided, since Lucien's watchful eye wasn't around. He didn't have to witness your betrayal first hand, didn't have to see as you attempted to find something in his brother. You weren't sure what that something was, but you were certain you were searching for it. You had been for years.

"That's not true. I can understand things if I try hard enough."

Eris played idly with the rings on his hands. "You set yourself up for disappointment, Vixen," he said to the empty air before him, not turning to look at you. "Why does everything need to have a deeper meaning?"

You studied his face further. Noting the lines etched around his eyes and the set of his jaw. He was beautiful. You weren’t one to deny it—all of the Vanserras were. But where Lucien had been handsome, radiating a gentle charm that made you blush with every lingering gaze, Eris was more akin to the sharp edge of the season’s chill—striking, with an air of regal severity. His amber eyes alone seemed to hold the crisp, unyielding essence of autumn itself—beautiful, but not without its bite.

"It doesn't need to," you replied. "But it often does. I think details are important."

He didn't respond as he turned to face you. You glanced up at him, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that seemed almost tangible.

"You've never lied to me," you stated. It was a statement more than it was a question.

"No," Eris replied.

His gaze didn't waver. You were almost impressed that you'd managed to hold his stare for so long. No one had ever looked at you like this before—so deeply, so penetrating. You understood now how his mere gaze could make people crumble, understood the rumors of how he only took his partners from behind, how he never made eye contact.

You pushed away the burning thoughts that arose.

"Is it true?" Your gaze bounced around his face. "Do you force your traitors to fight for your amusement? Place bets on them like animals?"

Eris's eyes flickered with something dark, but he didn't move.

"Do you think it is?" he countered.

You shook your head. You were certain of your answer, but you needed to hear his. "No. I don't."

The corner of his mouth twitched upward, and he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Then it’s not," he said simply.

His expression revealed nothing more as you scanned his face. He didn't seem startled by your question, didn't seem confused at the context. He was aware of the rumors, of the stories circulating like the last morsels of food at a feast—passed around, savored, and eagerly consumed.

"It doesn't bother you? That these lies exist?"

A hint of confusion crossed his features, as if the question itself was somewhat absurd.

"Why would it?"

You blinked, momentarily retracting into yourself.

As a hound trotted up to Eris, his attention shifted. He crouched down, meeting the beast at its level. The gentle manner with which the hound regarded him, the affection in its eyes, stirred something inside you, deep within your gut. Your father had always said that a male’s nature could be understood through how animals responded to him.

Eris clearly cared for his hounds, and they, in turn, cared for him.

You found yourself wondering if, deep down, Eris was ever troubled by his reputation.

Lucien always had been.

He cursed the blood than ran through his veins, spent every moment trying to prove himself to be better than the legacy of his family— he did everything he could to avoid the curse of a wicked kin.

But then there was the male before you.

Eris, the rightful heir and firstborn son, was different.

You had always assumed he was bestowed with the legacy of the kingdom, that he was born for the role of High Lord, eagerly embracing the title and its accompanying glory. He seemed built for it, seemed to thrive under its weight.

You watched as more hounds approached him, watched as they surrounded him like a loyal fleet.

Could it be possible, you thought, that perhaps it wasn't all gifted. That it was possible Eris was burdened with the legacy of a Court?

You realized, then, that you'd never truly acknowledged that what he had become allowed for a kinder brother to grow in his wake.

The thoughts came faster, hazy, so many that your vision began to blur. It all made you itch, made you uncomfortable, made you overwhelmed and desperate for more.

None of this felt right.

You stared at Eris for a few more moments. When he stood up straight once more, about to turn toward you, you turned and ran to your horse.

You could feel his stare burning into you as you left.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

reader panicking when she has deep intellectual thoughts about sexy man as he tends for his dogs. shes so me fr

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound-blog

@melissat1254

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

A couple of things that I love and adore about Sylus ♡♡

(For even more things, go here)

His eyes. They are so beautiful and expressive. They so often convey his inner thoughts and feelings without him having to say a word. Such as how they twinkle and light up when MC touches him, and at other times soften or widen with love as he looks at her.

His smile. I adore the way his face is transformed by it, how his sharp features noticeably soften, and how unguarded he looks for once. It's also adorable how you can sometimes glimpse his teeth. He kind of resembles Toothless ^^ His eyes closed smile is also really cute, it makes me think of this.

He is a lover and a yearner with every fiber of his being. He couldn't be further from the toxic mafia dom that booktok likes to pretend he is (on the contrary he represents healthy and secure masculinity at its best).

His way with words. He can drop the most gorgeous, poetic lines you've ever heard in your life just like that. Without them ever sounding cheesy or too much. They always feel like they come directly from his heart.

He can't hold a tune. He can't peel oranges in one go. His luck is abysmal. He uses Mephisto as a (veil thin) excuse to see his gf time and again. He gets sad when he can't find MC's hair tie. He bumps his head on MC's furniture b/c he's burj khalifa sized and then wants her to blow on his boo boos. He uses up all of her shampoo to smell like her. etc. What I'm trying to say is that he is a loser loverboy in a 6 foot something body. And it's incredibly endearing <3

His draconic traits – his affinity for treasure, his greed, his need to hoard, his desire to mark and be marked by MC, his striking proportions and size, his specific ways of showing and receiving affection.

He is so freeing and healing. MC can always feel whatever emotions she wants and needs to when with Sylus. He tells her outright that she never needs to hide a single thing she's feeling from him, and that he wants to provide a safe space for her to show her "vulnerable belly". She is able to be open, unguarded, and honest around him. Another thing that he encourages and cherishes is her playful and childlike side, and I adore how carefree she is able to be with him. He has created a space for her where she is free to be wholly and unabashedly herself.

His banter and sass. He's funny af. Even if some of the things he's said in his text messages and in the café have lowkey made me want to smack him on MC's behalf ijbol. Overall I love his sense of humor and how playful he is with MC.

The sounds he makes when he's kissing MC. He is so breathy, so love drunk. It's a big contrast to his usually smooth demeanor.

The fact that he is a biker and a mechanic. What can I say, it's attractive as hell.

His moral ambiguity and complexity. He is not a character that can be boiled down to either or (ie morally white or black) or simplified, and to try to do so would be to do him a disservice imo. He is incredibly well written and hugely rewarding to analyze and deep dive into.

His habit of one arm carrying MC every chance he gets.

His love for animals and nature.

His singing. I know I make fun of him for it a lot but I honestly adore it and wouldn't trade it for anything. Not only is it sweet and uniquely him but to me it's also symbolic of doing and enjoying things that you aren't necessarily good at. Because as long as it fulfills you and makes you happy it doesn't matter how proficient or talented you are or aren't. Be like Sylus and never stop doing what you love doing, regardless if others think you aren't "good enough" at it.

How sincere he is in his way of showing love. You can tell that he truly means every word he says, every gesture he makes.

[l1tw1ck]

The Fall of Spider-Man

bottom!ftm Miguel x top!masc!villain reader

🕷️ Word Count: 1,897 🕷️

AFAB Language Used

CW: Non-Con, Kidnapping, Lingerie, Fingering, Squirting, Cunnilingus, Overstimulation, Crying, Corruption, Creampie, Nipple Play, Pregnancy Mention, Stockholm Syndrome (Kinda?)

Miguel’s eyes shoot open. He immediately analyzes his surroundings. He’s tied up and on the floor. He can't see anything but he can tell he’s wearing lingerie. He feels sick. His first instinct is to try and get out of his restraints but no matter how hard he tries, nothing happens. He’s powerless. How? Why? When? Where the hell is he? He looks around the dark room, stopping to look at a door. There's light coming from behind it and he can hear movements. Footsteps. Getting closer and closer.

“You’re awake! Good morning, Miguel.” You smile, turning the lights on before walking towards him. “How are you feeling?”

“Who are you?” He asks.

You give him your name. “The person who's going to defeat Spider-Man once and for all.” You grin. “Although my methods are a bit unconventional.” You chuckle.

Miguel keeps his mouth shut, waiting to hear what you have to say next. Your confidence scares him. It's not like he's never met a confident villain before, it's honestly less likely to meet an insecure one, but your confidence is scary. You know something he doesn't. He knows you're dangerous. He always chooses to fight but everything inside him is screaming to run away. It's not like he has the choice now though.

“Pretty soon, you’ll be my beautiful husband and the father of our children.” You kiss his forehead. His heart drops. “But first, I’m gonna have some fun with you.” You kneel down and caress his cheek. He grimaces in disgust. “Let me give you the play by play.” You push his lacy red panties aside. “First, I’m gonna play with this pretty pussy of yours and give it a lot of love.” You rub his clit. “Then, once I’m done, I’m gonna slide my cock inside of you. I’ll make sure to go real slow, make you feel every inch of my cock.” You bring your fingers down to his entrance and push two of them in.

“Yo- you're sick.” He spits on you.

You wipe your cheek. “I didn't give you permission to speak, or spit.” You slap his cunt, earning a moan from him. “Watch yourself, Miguel.”

He looks at you angrily but doesn't say anything, too ashamed of the sound he just made and too afraid of the consequences to do so. You push your fingers in and out of his cunt, giving Miguel unwelcomed pleasure. “You like that?” You smirk, moving faster. He bites his lip to silence his moans. “I know you do. Even if you try to deny it, your body doesn't lie.”

He hates this so much.

“And then, I’ll pick up the pace. I’ll fuck you rough and hard. So rough that you won't be able to think. So hard that you’ll cry.” You push your fingers all the way in and thumb his clit, moving your fingers inside of him absentmindedly. He tries to fight against the pleasure but it's no use. He’s going to come.

“I’d love to see you cry.” You grin. He’s not going to cry. He might do a plethora of shameful things tonight but one thing he isn't going to do is cry. He refuses to. “I know you think it's impossible but it's not. And I can't wait to see you break.” You punctuate your last word with a hit to his g-spot. Miguel gasps, hips raising in the air as he squirts. Miguel looks down at himself in shame, cheeks burning hotter than a flame. He’s never done that before. He hates that you're the reason it happened. “Oh Miguel…” You let out a sharp breath.

You move in between his legs and dig into his wet cunt, slurping up his slick before tonguing his sensitive hole. Miguel squirms around in protest. Why does this feel so good? He wants to curse you out but he's worried about what you’ll do if he acts out. He feels terrible and so fucking good at the same time. He wants to kill you but he also doesn't want you to stop. He rolls his eyes back and squirts again, feeling extremely exhausted.

You pull away and stand up, stripping down to nothing. Miguel looks at your cock in horror. That's not going to fit! He desperately tries to get away but he can't do much in the position he's in.

“You’re really boosting my ego, Miguel.” You chuckle, kneeling back down and grabbing his waist. You pull him close to you so his thighs are on yours and your shaft is right against his cunt. “I’m going to enjoy this.” You look at him like the 5 star meal he is. You move him so that his pussy is sliding up and down your length, bringing the both of you pleasure.

He bares his fangs, showing you how angry he is without speaking. “Aw, you don't like this?” You frown, faking sympathy. “Or is it that you want something else?” You grin. “You want me to fuck you, is that it? You want me to finally fuck you?”

Miguel shakes his head rapidly. You move him backwards, just enough for you to be able to make an easier entrance. You point your tip against his clit, smearing pre cum over it and sliding down in between his folds. You tease him with your entrance, you're gently thrusting into him but only the tip is entering him. He can't stand the feeling. You eventually stop and slowly push your cock inside of him. You weren't exaggerating when you said he’d feel every inch of you. You’re practically tearing him apart with the way you’re stretching him out. You bite your lip, thoroughly enjoying his pussy. “I think I’m in heaven.”

If you’re in heaven, then Miguel’s in hell. You slowly slide in and out of him, reveling in his wet warmth. “That's right baby, sit back and take it like the pretty little slut you are.” You place your hand over the bulge of your cock on his stomach, enjoying the way it feels as you move and how sexy he looks with his tummy bulging. “You’re doing so good for me, you know that? Doing so well…”

He doesn't want to be good for you. He doesn't want you to enjoy this. If he wasn't afraid of the consequences he’d curse you out. You rub his clit gently, causing his breathing to turn shallow. “I wanna feel you come..” You mutter. “Come for me, baby.”

He grits his teeth, trying to stop himself from giving you what you want but it's too difficult. He can't hold back. It all feels too good, his pussy feels way too good, he can't do anything to prevent this. He shuts his eyes and comes, walls fluttering around your length. “You’re such a good boy, Miguel. You may be prickly but at least you know how to follow orders.” You caress his cheek. He turns away from your touch. “Even after all that…you're still trying to keep up this facade?” You pull away and turn him onto his stomach. “You won't be able to pretend any longer, Miguel.” You raise his ass in the air and plunge your length fully into him. He gasps. Miguel doesn't even get a minute to adjust to the new position thanks to you suddenly pounding into him. He rolls his eyes back, letting out uncontrollable moans as you fuck the shame out of him. He can barely think over the explicit sounds of your hips snapping against his ass and the loud wet sounds of your cock sliding in and out of his sensitive pussy. You're going too fast for him to even try and act like he doesn't like it. He’s always had a thing for being treated roughly and you're fulfilling his need for it. You pull on his hair, causing him to let out an almost scream-like moan as he squirts.

“Fu- fuck-” He feels tears welling up in his eyes as you continue fucking him through his orgasm.

“‘M gonna give you the child you always wanted, Miguel.” You fuck him even rougher than before, chasing your orgasm. Tears flow rapidly from Miguel’s eyes, as if there was a blockage that contained all his tears and prevented him from crying all these years. He sobs, crying loudly as you overwhelm him with pleasure. It feels good but it's too much, he can't handle it. He loves it but he needs it to stop. “Ah, I love hearing you cry..” You slow down your thrusts and dump your load inside of him. Miguel uses this break to finally catch his breath and calm down.

“Aw, was it too much for you, baby?” You coo, rubbing your hand down his back.

Miguel nods. “Ple- please..” He whimpers.

You pull out and turn him around. You pick him up and sink him down on your cock. You place your hands on his waist and kiss his cheek. “You’re so pretty when you cry, you know that?” You caress his face gently. He sniffles, not sure how to feel about that. You press your lips against his, kissing him slowly and sensually. Miguel reciprocates the kiss, following your tongue movements and subconsciously grinding down on your cock. He feels a little less stimulated than before. He feels like he's about to have an orgasm that’ll never come and somehow it feels good. He doesn't know how he feels about you now but you make him feel good, and thanks to the current state of mind he's in now, that's all that matters.

You pull away from the kiss and pepper kisses down his throat and to his chest. You undo the clip in the middle of his bra, causing the two cups to separate and reveal his breasts. You latch onto his nipple, sucking it gently while your hand goes to pull and twist on the other one. Miguel whimpers in pleasure. His nipples are so sensitive, he’ll definitely come from this. “mmh..” Miguel grinds down harder as he orgasms, his pussy clenching and unclenching around your length. You pull away from his nipple, your saliva dripping down the brown bud.

He still despises you but he knows he'll be stuck with you from now on. He’ll eventually learn to love you.

Miguel turns on the radio as he starts cooking breakfast. The reporter talks about all the crime going on in the city and he doesn't seem to care, even though he’s back to normal and completely autonomous, he has no intention of going out to fight. He wants to stay home with you. The Spider Society’s been trying to contact him but he's ignored all their calls. He only leaves the house for dates and groceries, why would he go anywhere without you? He loves you so much, he wants to stay by your side as much as he can. Nobody seems to understand it but he doesn't care to explain it to them. Peter B. and Jessica have been trying to convince Miguel to come back and many spider people have tried to kill you but to no avail. He doesn't want to come back, especially not when they're trying to kill his beloved. He’s perfectly content with where he is now and he can't wait to have his first child with you.

[locuas642]

Okay I am not going to pretend Dandadan is purposefully making some statement about the human body, specially with how traditionally beautiful both girls are drawn as but.

Okay so, every now and then we have some discourse trending about the human body. How society acts like, say, a woman having breasts means they are inherently wanting to be sexual. How breast-feeding a baby is treated as inherently sexual and not, you know, the basic biological function of breasts and a lot of other things. How to some degree a woman dressing less should not be treated that different from a man being shirtless.

So, here we have Dandadan, that has Momo and Aira in their underwear, and Okarun full-on Naked. but doesn't leer on them. it's lenses doesnt focus on their breats or their butts or obsesses over their nakedness. they simply... exist in their underwear.

Neither Momo nor Aira are being forcefully undressed by the aliens, mind you, they simply took their clothes off

Because they are fighting an underwater threat.

And if we are serious about discussing that women should be allowed to... say... be shirtless... without acting like they are trying to be sexual or sexy or that it is not inherently an invitation to leer at them. Well, that does mean we are going to have fictional characters be in their underwear without it necessarily being "sexy".

Like if this was a beach arc. like it was the exact same plot and they were on the beach in their bikini, which tend to be more... uhm... you know... than underwear. would the criticism be the same? that Dandadan went back to be a "Sex Comedy"? (The comedy is not even about the nakedness)

I guess my point is, the matter of seeking for series to rely less on fanservice is an important one. But also the matter of practicality. of de-sexualizing certain topic. etc, etc. Means there will be contexts in which we will have teenage girls in their underwear (In part because teenagers make an absurd amount of the main characters in manga), and we will have to sit down and analyze and ask ourselves "Wait, are they being sexualized, or am I assuming this typical element of fanservice is for fanservice in this context?".

And I know, The author chose to do it. And yes, they chose to have a story-arc that involved a monstrous looking Nessie who punches really hard, which is awesome.

[l0relaii]

MORNING HO!!! missed u 🫶🌚🌝

anywhoots..

How do we feel about noisey Connor? After deviating and not knowing gow to control his sounds when in a sexual situation and being just out of control with himself 🫠

missed you too baee 🫶

omg i love this idea

imagine deviant connor who just can't stop making noises. in any scenario.

you accidently brush your hand on his arm? he whimpers

you kiss him? he's groaning into your mouth

you're riding him until his system just crashes? he's loud af

he's so confused tho

because he does some research in the beginning of your relationship. and by research i mean he watches porn

a lot of porn. an insane amount. although he'd never ever admit it even when you caught him

he wants to analyze how humans do it so he could mimick it with you, so he could try and feel more human through his connection with you

his confusion is about the men in the videos. why are they so..silent?

is that what women like? would you prefer him like that?? do his noises bother you???

unfortunately he's too embarrassed to actually ask you anything

he just continues watching staged shit on pornhub and that fuels his doubts and growing insecurity

he doesn't watch the good homemade videos so ofc the girl is just an actress who is screaming her lungs out and saying she's cumming every 2 seconds

but the guy is just.. pounding into her? if the camera didn't film his cock going in and out you wouldn't even know he was there at all

maybe he hears a groan when he cums but that's it? is that how it's supposed to be?

now he feels a bit embarrassed about his loud moaning. and he tries to hold it in

and you notice that the next time you're riding him

everything seems normal, his hands are all over you, his head is tilted back on the bed frame while he watches you bouncing

his LED is flickering with a beautiful hot pink shade (which you discovered only comes out when y'all get freaky)

but he's..silent. dead silent.

that's.. unusual, very unusual

so after a few moments of bouncing you stop looking at him confused

"connor.. is everything alright??"

"mfuck- yes, of course my love, why'd you stop?"

his hands tighten their grip on your hips trying to lift you and make you move but you squeeze your thighs around his to keep yourself grounded

"do you not enjoy this? wanna take a break or something?"

"of course i enjoy this, why wouldn't i?"

"then why are you so silent?"

"oh- uhm- i thought that's how it's supposed to be?"

"no it's not? who told you that shit? did the neighbours complain again? i told you i don't care what they-"

"no one told me anything"

"then how'd you come up with such a stupid idea?"

"i studied some.. educational content on the matter of.. sexual intercourse"

oh no.

"is that so..? and what would that 'educational content' be?"

"oh you know, just some videos"

"you watched some staged bullshit porn didn't you?"

"i'm sorry, was i not supposed to do that? i just wanted to learn how to please you more and that's what i saw there, i thought that's how i was supposed to act-"

"ohh babe, you could just ask me about that. you don't need to mimick some actors to try and please me"

"that means you like it when i make noise?"

"i don't like it, i love it"

after that he never held in any noise 🌝

[aperrywilliams]

Only If It Makes Sense (Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader)

------------------ 

Author Masterlist

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

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader.

Summary: You are struggling to write your report about the last case. There are a lot of things going on in your head lately, and your boyfriend, Spencer, has already noticed. An open conversation with him in the breakroom can be very clarifying for you and maybe the little push you need to think about what’s next in your life.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: More comfort than hurt. Nothing too heavy, I think. There is some reference to a gruesome case (no details given). There is a mention of the reader being pointed with a gun (once). The reader is overthinking a lot.

A/N: A self-indulgent fic, just because I need a boyfriend like Spencer Reid telling me everything is going to be okay.

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

Flipping between statements transcription and evidence photos, your eyes can't focus enough to see what you need to complete the last case report. It's useless. You have been trying for the past three hours to finish it, but you can’t. Flashes about what happened to the victims and how difficult it was to catch the unsub flood your mind. Your mind replays the way the unsub talked to you when he was pointing his gun at you.

‘You think you’re better than me, uh? Do you think if you put me away, you’ll sleep better tonight? You’re wrong. You’re the one trapped here, not me. I’m doing what I want; you are doing what others want you to do. And it doesn't matter how long you keep doing this, you’ll always feel empty.’

You glance at the clock on your desk. It's almost 5, and you are not close to being done. Sighing in frustration, you stand and make a beeline to the breakroom. A coffee seems to be a good idea and a needed distraction.

While waiting for the fresh pot to be ready, your eyes are fixed on the dark liquid slowly brewing, drop by drop.

Why this case has affected you that much? It's not something you have ever seen before. You have worked on many gruesome cases in the past twelve years with the BAU. It's safe to say things can’t surprise you much these days, but for some reason, in the past months, you haven't felt like handling the job the way you used to.

Between the lack of motivation some days and the boost of excessive impetus on others, you still can’t pinpoint what’s wrong.

Your mind goes to that warehouse again:

‘...And it doesn't matter how long you keep doing this, you’ll always feel empty.’

The unsub is wrong. He has to be wrong. You don't feel empty. You don’t feel trapped. You love what you do. The BAU has been your life because you chose it to be.

“I think it's ready.”

Your mind comes back to the present the moment Spencer’s voice reaches your ears. You notice Spencer is right; the pot stopped brewing. There are no drops dipping anymore.

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” You mumble, quickly grabbing your mug to fill it with the precious liquid. With a tight lip smile, you offer to do the same with the cup in his hands. Spencer nods and reaches it for you.

Spencer watches your moves carefully without saying a word. He’s been analyzing you for a while now. Of course, he has noticed your change of behavior: frequent quietness, excessive overthinking, and constant retreatment. Spencer has picked on all of it, not only because he is a genius or an excellent profiler. He also happens to have known you since you joined the team more than a decade ago and has been your boyfriend for the past three years. So yeah, he has noticed.

You’re very aware he knows something is off. But you can’t bring yourself to address it with him. Not out of distrust or trying to hide something from him. The fact you are not sure about what’s happening makes you bury it in the back of your head and act like there is nothing to worry about. Maybe it will go away if you ignore it. At least, that is what you thought would happen. Weeks later, you are not so sure anymore.

“Do you need help with your report?”

His offer doesn't surprise you. It's not uncommon for Spencer to offer help with anything he thinks can lift some weight from you. You do the same for him every chance you get. But this time, you would have hoped he didn't catch your struggle.

“Uh. No, baby. I - I’ll finish it soon. Thank you, though. Actually, you can go home if you’re done. I’ll go after finishing and handing the report to Emily.” You try to sound convinced and reassuring. You know Spencer worries, and you love how considerate he is to you, but this is your job and your problem. He doesn't deserve to be the fixer of everything that happens to you. It’s not fair.

“You haven’t moved past the first page,” he says matter-of-factly. It's not accusatory. It's not mocking. It's a fact that supports the reality that you are not even close to being done, and he wants to help.

You huff a laugh. “Well, I know it's not my best performance, but I’ll survive,” you wink at him, trying to light the mood.

Sarcasm. That’s another component of your toolbox used to deal with things that overwhelm you.

Spencer is clever enough to know he can’t just confront you right away. You are as stubborn as he is, so if he pushes too hard, you’ll close in your shell. He opts for a different approach.

“Love, I know you will,” he says after sipping his coffee. “But I wanted us to go home together. I really don’t mind waiting or helping you to finish it if you’re okay with it.”

And this is where your dilemma arises: accept Spencer's offer, which will lead him to realize you have done nothing yet, and you’ll have to confess you're not okay, and he’ll want to talk about it, or refuse and hurt your boyfriend's feelings by not letting him help. Damn Spencer.

Your smile falters, followed by a deep sigh.

“I barely started it,” you admit, sort of embarrassed. “And I don’t know why it has taken me so long.”

Spencer’s eyes are nothing but understanding. He kindly points to a chair for you to take as he reaches for another for himself. You plop on the seat, tighten the grasp of your mug, and pout like a child before being lectured.

“What is bothering you, baby? It's the case?” Spencer asks, resting his hand on your knee to encourage you to relax your posture.

“No. I mean - yes. This case was awful,” you grimace, and Spencer matches your expression. You don't need to say details to agree that it was one of the most gruesome in a long time.

“It really was,” he concedes. “But that’s not all, isn’t it?” You nod. It's kind of useless to try to deny it. “Love, you know you can tell me anything,” Spencer reassures you. You nod again, sipping your coffee as you collect your thoughts, then setting the cup over the table.

“I have been thinking-” you start. “For a while now. I mean, thinking about this case, all the cases, you know?”

It is difficult to put into words something you don’t even fully comprehend yourself, but Spencer is patient and understanding. Also, above all, he knows you damn well. That's why you may have been afraid to bring it up with him.

You’re scared you would confirm something you already know in your gut but have not acknowledged in your brain.

“You have been in your head a lot lately. Is that about?”

“Yeah. Although I can't say it's something particular,” you explain. “If that makes sense.”

You feel like you are stumbling over your words and thoughts.

“What bothers you about it? Because it looks like you feel frustrated. Why?”

That's a good way to put it. You were going to say conflicted or overwhelmed, but frustrated suits better, you think, in this case. You have always admired Spencer and his ability to use words.

“Because - because I feel like I can’t do this job anymore,” you blurt out plainly, without warning. You expect Spencer to be scandalized, or disappointed, or both. You are a bit about yourself, to be honest. But Spencer doesn't even flinch. At most, he hums like you are saying something he has already anticipated.

“Is that so? Why do you think you can’t?”

It's weird having this conversation in the same place where you’re feeling off. It's almost as if you’re betraying the same job you have been doing for more than a decade. Spencer notices your hesitation. “We can talk at home if you feel uncomfortable right now. I don’t think Emily would mind having your report tomorrow instead of tonight.”

Surely, Emily wouldn’t mind, but something doesn't let you just leave the conversation on standby. For some reason, you feel the need to stay.

You shake your head no and stand from your spot, stopping to glance through the breakroom’s window. It gives a good view of the bullpen. You can see Luke's feet resting at his desk as he banters with Garcia, who is perched by his side. You see as JJ says goodbye for the day, bag in hand, and Tara exits Emily’s office, ready to go home, too. Matt is already gone, and Rossi is locked in his own office.

“I’m not saying they don’t get affected by what we do. I know everybody has their battles and their ways of handling them. But they look like they’re doing fine. And I know I used to feel and look that way, too.”

Spencer watches you carefully in respectful silence. He knows you need to unravel to clarify your head, and for it, you need to say what’s in your mind.

“And now? I feel like I lost my place here. And I’m not blaming anyone but me for it. It's just I can’t see the big picture anymore. I’m not cut for this anymore. And I’m wasting everybody’s time with me failing here.”

For Spencer, here’s where he draws the line. You can have doubts and overthink your present and future, but he won’t let you think you are not good at your job because it’s far from the truth.

“Hey,” he stands and approaches so you can turn from the window to look at him. “You are not failing, okay? Everyone can make mistakes here. All of us have made mistakes working here. Need I remind you who got arrested in Mexico two years ago?”

You roll your eyes. “Spencer, that’s different. A psychopath targeted you.”

“And I let my guard down,” he supplies. “But, I’m bringing this up because even though we could have made other choices working on cases, that does not make us bad at the job. Especially you.”

“Especially me? What do you mean?”

“Yes. Especially you. Come on, I have never seen someone so clever, tenacious, and so connected to people’s feelings doing this job.” You huff a mid chuckle.

“That’s your way of saying I’m stubborn?”

Spencer shakes his head in amusement. You never lose a chance to make a comeback.

“You can deflect joking about it, but I’m telling the truth.”

It seems that cracking jokes will not make Spencer drop the subject so quickly.

“Okay, so - if you’re right about what you said, why I’m seeing this from a different perspective?” You cross your arms over your chest, and Spencer feels your defensiveness.

“Well, due to the fact you asked me, I would say the problem is not you can’t do this job anymore; the problem is you don’t want to do this job anymore.”

You take in his words for a moment. It never occurred to you there was a possibility of not wanting to be a profiler. When the idea of joining the FBI settled in your mind at a young age, the BAU turned into your primary goal. And when you finally made it, you always thought it was where you belonged and that you would die doing this job.

Why would you feel different now?

“I do want to keep doing this,” you defend. “I mean, I’m doing something worthy for someone. We save lives; we’re trying to make a difference.”

Spencer nods, his hand finding yours to bring it to his lips. After lovingly kissing your palm, he keeps his hold to lead you to sit on the sofa settled in the corner.

Almost everyone left for the day, so the probability of someone walking on you both there is very low at this hour.

“I get what you say. That’s a huge motivation for us to do what we do, and I always have admired you for it. About the way you think about this job, like something with a purpose,” he says, softly stroking your hand.

“But there is a ‘but,’ right?” you anticipate, and Spencer gives you a reassuring smile.

“Have I ever told you what Morgan said to me when he left the BAU?”

You purse your lips, trying to remember it. “About leaving so he could be there for his son?” you ask, and Spencer nods.

“Yeah, that. But there is more to it. When I asked him what the difference was between his situation and JJ's or Hotch’s, he told me the main difference wasn’t in the things around them; it was in the way things still keep making sense or not. He wasn’t talking about the impact of doing or not something on others but on yourself.”

Your eyes go downcast to your lap. That is what’s happening to you? Does your job not make sense to you anymore?

“That means-”

“Baby,” Spencer continues, sensing what conclusion you are drawing right now. “It's not about selfishness; it is about being honest with you. You feel conflicted because you are scared of wanting something different and wanting something different means making changes you’re afraid to make. I get it; I usually feel the same about changes; you already know that. But I also think you know things are not going to be the way they used to be, and your heart is telling you to do something about it.”

Spencer is right. It's the way you feel, but the implications of acting about it scare you.

“But what if I’m reading this wrong? If the whole ordeal is only me being insecure because I’m not performing the way I used to? What if I’m overreacting?”

Spencer, who has been playing with your fingers because he knows it comforts you, stops his motion to interlace his fingers with yours giving a soft squeeze.

“Is that so? I’m sure you know it's not that.”

Do you really know? Maybe you do in your heart, but your mind runs thousands of scenarios in which you’re wrong and mess everything up.

“What do I do?” You finally ask. It's a mid-rhetorical and mid-actual question.

“What do you want to do?” he asks back. You groan, pulling your hands off his grasp.

“Jesus, Spencer. Don’t help me this much, okay?”

Spencer chuckles. He knows you are not really mad at him.

“I know you have been thinking about it. Everyone had at some point. Me included.”

You know the idea has been around for a while. You secretly have entertained new scenarios, new things to do, and new experiences, none of which involve staying at the BAU.

A lump forms in your throat. The realization you feared to face is in front of you. Unavoidable.

“You know?” you start. “I always thought the moment I would consider leaving the team would be after a big revelation, a big something. Not a slow building up of inner undetermined nonconformities.”

Spencer shakes his head. “Don’t go so hard on yourself. You say it like it’s only a whim when it’s not.”

You huff. “Isn’t? It's not me running from my commitment to the team? From the things that really matter in life?”

“And you don’t matter? The things you feel don’t matter? My love, to make a decision thinking of you is the bravest thing you can do, believe me. No one should think less of you for doing it, and if they do, fuck them.”

Your eyes widen.

“Did you just say ‘fuck’?”

“Is that really what caught your attention about everything I said?” Spencer asks in disbelief, and you shrug.

“Sorry. I couldn't just let it go unnoticed.”

Spencer is about to say something to protest, but you continue talking. “But okay, okay. I really get your point. It doesn't make it easy to follow, though.”

“I know it's not easy, but it makes sense to you?”

Hell, it does. You exhale sharply.

“Yeah. It makes sense.”

Your thoughts go to the day you crossed those glass doors for the first time, your first case, the first time you had to talk down an unsub. You think about the people you have seen leave and the ones who joined, the drinks at O'Keefe, the not-so-healthy food, and the excessive coffee intake. It's funny that, in almost all of those moments, Spencer has been there in one way or another. You are grateful to the BAU. You have learned, given, and received.

It's scary to think how things will change after you leave, but you know it's time for another chapter in your life.

Treacherous tears start to roll down. Spencer quickly notices.

“Hey, baby. It’s okay,” he coos, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into a tight embrace.

“I know what I have to do, but I’m still scared,” you admit, muffling your words in Spencer’s chest.

“My love, you are not alone in this, okay?” he kisses the top of your head.

Spencer’s voice whispers sweet nothings that are so soothing that you have no choice but to melt into his arms. You don’t know if you alone would have reached the determination to admit it's time to move on.

When you feel composed enough, you part to look up at him. Your cheeks are flushed and tear-stained. Spencer looks at you back with just love in his eyes, as if you are hanging the moon.

“Things will change, you know?” you point, and Spencer nods, not faltering the grip of his arms around you.

“I suppose they will.”

“We won’t be working together anymore,” you continue, and Spencer lets out a melancholic sigh.

”And if you want to know, I’ll miss you like crazy. But as long as you are happy, I’ll be satisfied.”

“You mean that?” You ask him, voice small with emotion.

“Of course I mean it. I love you, and I’ll do everything in my power to see you happy. Even if it means not having you around 24/7.”

This is another proof of Spencer's unconditional love. For him, your happiness is beyond any logistic patch on the road. Somedays, you can’t believe that man is yours.

“Fuck. I’m so damn lucky to have you,” you blurt out, and Spencer's lips curve into a smirk.

“Who’s cursing now, uh?”

You roll your eyes at his comeback. “Shut up.”

A genuine laugh escapes you both and fills the breakroom. You feel relieved and mostly lighter. The dilemma never had to do with you not having options as you thought at the beginning. On the contrary, it involved broadening one's view and considering new alternatives.

“Can we go home now?” Spencer asks, and you sigh.

“I have a report to finish,” you remind him, but before Spencer’s shoulders slump in disappointment, you continue. “But I could use some help to finish it, you know?”

Spencer narrows his eyes at you, faking contemplation of your petition.

“What I’m getting if I kindly offer to help?”

You scoff. “A happy girlfriend is not enough?”

Spencer’s grin is wide. “It’s more than enough, actually.”

After pecking your lips, he grabs your hand to stand from the couch and walks with you back to your desk. So you can finish what will be your last case report working with the BAU.

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

[tealvenetianmask]

Stolas Makes Decisions Alone

I'm here to predict more problems ahead for Stolas. But don't worry- I do think he'll get through them because of character growth.

Stolas has a pattern of taking drastic actions that he believes are right and getting so caught up in his own point of view that he doesn't really listen to anyone else. I don't think he realizes this about himself. As much as he's now dealing with the consequences of his decisions at the end of Season 2, he hasn't yet learned that he can't go it alone. That he needs to communicate with the people his decisions impact- namely Blitz and Octavia, the people he cares for most. What I'm saying is, even though he's not the only one, our lovely owl man is a misunderstanding factory.

As for why he's like this, I have some ideas, but first, let's quickly go over the ways we've seen this behavior play out in HB.

It's treated as kind of light in Season 1 . . . despite being great with words, he's a lousy communicator because he gets carried away with his own ideas.

In Murder Family, Stolas has no idea that Blitz is panicking and . . . yes, I believe feeling pressured in this moment, even if he likes the deal later. In Loo Loo Land, he doesn't pay attention to Octavia's (not subtle) reactions enough to realize that no, she does not want to go to Loo Loo, and she absolutely doesn't want to bring the person Stolas cheated with along as a bodyguard. Also . . . as soon as Stolas listens to Octavia here, their communication improves, and Octavia is allowed to decide on the next father daughter activity.

The independent decision making tendency becomes more serious . . . tragic . . . in The Full Moon.

Stolas goes into the episode with a plan to do what he believes is right (freeing Blitz from himself), and he's so set on it that he blindsides the guy and shuts him out at the first hint of rejection, unable to pay enough attention to realize that it's . . . not actually rejection, just another wounded person reacting to a sudden change, since the entire decision making process already happened inside Stolas's mind.

Okay . . . Mastermind and Sinsmas.

I'm letting him off the hook for Mastermind, because he had only seconds to do something to save Blitz's life. I don't think he's wrong here. BUT symbolically, in the courtroom, Stolas rarely looks at Blitz. Someone who loves him is standing behind him, and there are moments of recognition between them, but Stolas still faces the decision, and his fate, alone.

In Sinsmas, we get the most blatant version of this kind of decision making. Yes, I know he's off his meds and going through a lot. He could have waited a few more minutes for Blitz to get back and talked through his decision to march up to his palace and demand to see his daughter. Blitz could have helped him calm down, and they could've had a conversation and decided on the best way to do it.

But that isn't how Stolas makes decisions. It isn't how he's EVER made decisions. Helping Stolas would put Blitz in danger, or Blitz might try to convince him to wait. So in Stolas's mind, if it's a choice between being kept from his daughter and dying alone by Andrealphus's hand, well . . .

There's so much that could be discussed here. Medication/depression. Suicidality. Autism . . . does this pattern stem in part from difficulty reading social cues?

These are all topics worth analyzing but . . . here's one thing that I think is at the core of Stolas's character regardless of the situation or other factors.

Stolas had all of his decisions made for him for his entire life. No one consulted him. Ever. Not about his career. Not about his marriage. Not about how he would choose to behave and conduct himself in the world.

Then when he was somewhere between 18 and 20, he had a child. And suddenly, his decisions mattered. Not in the big ways for himself. He still had to carry out all of his responsibilities. But he could decide how to raise this kid (Stella wasn't really interested in raising her after all). He could do everything in his power to make her childhood joyful, to make her feel loved, to teach her that she could be herself.

The problem is, making decisions for a kid doesn't make you a great collaborative decision maker. Being a parent means being an authority. He wasn't totalitarian like his own father, but there wasn't really anyone to honestly talk through his decisions and process his emotions with. So he's spent 35ish years never making a decision with someone else.

He's also rich and powerful, and that both keeps him isolated and gives him . . . a somewhat outsized view of his own importance and ability to control situations, in my opinion.

But now Octavia is 17, and making decisions that impact her without adequately communicating doesn't really work anymore.

And the other person he loves is Blitz. And yes, Mastermind is an exception, but Blitz usually doesn't need to be rescued or protected. He certainly doesn't need to be protected from Stolas (i.e. The Full Moon). He needs a partner. And Stolas needs one too.

So yeah, until Stolas learns to communicate (or at least learns that it's necessary) I worry about what he'll go off and do on his own.

Note: please don't take this as me blaming EVERYTHING on Stolas. Blitz and Octavia both have some responsibility for the miscommunications that go on. I just think this particular tendency of Stolas's is interesting and wanted to explore it.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Can you pls do a fem s/o and Kang sae-byeok head cannons 🙏

۶ৎ a/n .ᐟ | HOLY SHIT OKAY. this is so terribly long and i'd be more than willing to write a whole fucking series about this if need be. i almost cried like... two times while writing this because it's so cheesy and perfect, and it gives sae-byeok the life she deserves!!

SO, popular girl!reader x basket case!sae-byeok highschool au.

you're genuinely so sweet but your little clique are made up of people with that aren't so nice to people like sae-byeok.

you aren't mean! a lot of people just so happen to like you and know your name! and yeah, they invite you to some of the biggest parties at your school, but so what? it's just a large gathering!

but sae-byeok doesn't know that, and honestly? she doesn't want to.

she's not looking for anything with anyone, especially not with a person like you.

think of like a cliche scene from a movie: you're walking in the hallway with your group of friends, and you pass by her.

you guys lived in two different worlds that were never meant to collide... and yet they did.

it was a simple formula really.

with it finally being your senior year (going by american school because i know nothing about the korean school system 😭), that meant new classes.

and you had absolutely no friends in this one.

seats were taken up by friends that had found themselves together, while you just stood there like a fish out of water.

but then there was sae-byeok, sitting in the back of the class by herself, lost in the world happening outside the large window to the left of her.

and she was beautiful.

the sun hit her golden skin just right, illuminating her dark, dragon-like eyes that look like they could pierce your soul if they wanted to.

for the first time in a long time, you're hesitant as you approach the long counter for two.

"excuse me? can i sit here?" your voice is quiet, sheepish, and when she finally looks up at you, all your blood rushes to your cheeks.

she takes a moment to scan the classroom, before looking back out the window.

"sure." it's blunt, curt, monotone, a collection of synonyms to describe someone who's not interested in casual friendly conversation.

the bit of light inside of you dims, but nonetheless you take a seat next to her.

it's awkward, but you turn your body towards her, putting on a cheerful smile.

"hi." you say hopefully.

all the girl does is throw a look at you out of the corner of her eye before looking away again.

"uh my name is," you tell her your name. "what's yours?"

"does it matter?"

"i would like to think so. were gonna be sitting next to each other for the rest of the year, so i'd like to get to know you."

she finally turns her head fully, giving you a once over before meeting your gaze head on. "I don't want to know you."

"oh." you say, taken aback. "well, i'll be here when you're ready then."

after that, she didn't talk to you much, but you were sewn into each other's lives, whether she liked it or not.

of course you noticed her; how could you not? she was the prettiest girl you had ever seen.

though she basically acts like you're not there, you know she's watching you.

sometimes you can feel her gaze when you're doing your work, or when you're taking notes. it's like she's analyzing you instead of just trying to get to know you.

then, the class project happens.

both of you are forcibly paired up, and you're not too sure how she feels about it. all she does is look at you and say, "it looks like were partners, now." in that dry tone of hers.

you're over the moon about it, but you really try not to show it, though you're sure your smile gives you away.

"i'll do my half and you can do yours -"

"or you can come over to my house after school to work on it!" you offer enthusiastically.

yeah, you're so fucking obvious.

she just stares at you before looking at the paper that holds the instructions on it. "sure."

"great, awesome... here's my phone number so i can send you my address."

"mhm." she hums.

"can i finally know your name now?"

"... sae-byeok."

having her over at your house for the first time was... overwhelming to say the least. you stress cleaned the whole house, your light pink room glistening beautifully.

it got easier afterwards though, seeing her.

she finally talked to you at school, and through the project, you had learned about her ten year old brother, and her parents.

she was still blunt and dry-witted, but it became easier to understand her little by little.

your old friend group had noticed your absence, you often cancelled on them to hangout with sae-byeok after school.

sometimes she'd even bring her brother with her, and that was the first time that you realized that she trusted you.

your feelings grew, even as the project deadline had passed and you both had presented and got a good grade on it.

a part of you worried that things were going to go back to the way they were, but pleasantly they didn't.

things were going good, with your head in the clouds and most of your time being taken up by your lover girl, you were sure nothing could get better than this.

then, you were stopped in the hallway by your clique while on your way to your class.

"you've been ghosting us." one of the girls said.

"don't tell us it's for that weird girl. you know she doesn't have any friends, right?"

"c'mon, you're just making yourself look bad by spending time with her."

their cruel words bounced around in your head, and you had finally had enough.

"it doesn't matter if she doesn't have any friends or if you think she's weird. i like her. i like spending time with her. that should be enough."

things got better after cutting off your group of friends, and if sae-byeok noticed, she didn't say anything.

she honestly forgot they existed because of how much of your time had been spent with her; at lunch, at home, on the phone, or at school.

the thing about sae-byeok is that it wasn't that she was bad at expressing her emotions, it's just that she did it in a way that was different.

like buying your favorite drink while she was out, or sharing her umbrella with you if you forgot to bring one.

she would chide you of course, but there was a part of her that preened at the idea of being able to take care of you.

it was strange, having these new emotions for somebody, but she can't say that it surprised her.

she knew from the first day that she met you that you were different.

it wasn't as if she had no idea who you were, she's seen you around with your group of friends before, had seen how they treated others, had even been at the tail end of their "teasing."

but every single time without fail, you'd be right behind them, scolding them on their choices to be mean to people.

sae-byeok found it a bit redundant, seeing as though you had still hung around them, but appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

of course she still held a grudge, and had no ambition to actually get to know you at all as a person, but that didn't mean she couldn't look at you.

admittedly, you were very pretty; with your flowy skirts and tops, and your cute little adornments.

the outside matched the inside, and so when you asked her to go to your house to work on the project, she felt that maybe... just maybe, you were worth a damn.

and she was right.

she learned your little habits, what you found funny, how genuine kindness seemed to flow through you regardless of who you were with, especially with her brother.

now, sae-byeok has never cared for any school wide function: homecoming, prom, any kind of dances really.

she's never had anyone she's wanted to take, so what was the point of going?

but you seemed very stressed about it.

sae-byeok didn't want to be that kind of person, but you would tell her anything and everything, even if she had nothing to offer you back, so surely you would tell her if you had a crush on someone, right?

she didn't like the feeling of jealousy, how it bubbles under her skin like an itch she can't scratch. it makes her irritable, and you don't deserve that.

but why can't she just muster up the courage to ask you then if it bothers her so much?

you were stressed, because not only was it time for prom, but sae-byeok had been acting weird; blowing you off, missing calls or texts, seeming distant even though you weren't even a seat apart.

you had no idea what was happening.

did she have someone else?

you know she wasn't a big fan of sharing her personal feelings, but you thought you guys were close enough to talk about your love lives.

you wanted to take her to prom so bad it made your bones ache, but you were scared.

what if she said no? even though she never implied she liked girls, she never said she didn't.

what if you've been reading the last couple of months wrong? she had been a lot more caring with the way she did things!

she would occasionally bring you your favorite drink, or even pay for your lunch when you went out.

she had even gone out of her way to put her arm around your shoulder when you cried during the notebook!

it wasn't like she was allergic to physical touch but, you guys just didn't do that.

okay, maybe you've wrapped yourself around her arm while you guys had been walking a time or two, and yeah she's even held your books when she walked you to your next class, but those things could mean anything!

you internally groaned, your head falling backwards and your eyes landing on the ceiling above you.

"hey, sae?" you forced yourself to say, lifting your head up.

wide, dark eyes looked up from her book, attaching themselves to yours. a silent gesture for you to continue.

"what do you think about prom?"

she stares another beat before looking back down, seemingly uninterested. "i think it's stupid."

"oh," you nod quietly. "well, i'm thinking about going." you see her body stiffen before feigning relaxation.

"okay."

"okay." you reiterate, any courage you had dying as quickly as it formed.

your heart breaks a little bit when you pick up your own book, tears burning in the back of your eyelids that you rapidly blink away.

she was right, maybe it was stupid.

the night of prom isn't as exciting as you wished it would have been.

you still had a handful of friends that were willing to hangout with you even though you had been cast out.

they tried their hardest to brighten up your dim mood. they didn't know much, but they probably figured it out, seeing as though sae-byeok wasn't currently glued to your side.

being all dolled up made it easier to be sad, because at least you were melancholic in a cute way.

you had been looking at your phone all night, and yet there was nothing from her.

how was it that you could feel so lonely in a room full of others?

the gymnasium was swimming with people, crowds upon crowds of them stretched from one wall to the other.

the lights were off, the room illuminated by the strobe of colors from the dj booth.

the ground was covered in confetti and balloons, and yet all you could think about was how you'd rather be anywhere than here.

couples gathered up; hands around waists, arms draped over shoulders, and backs hugged.

you picked at your freshly done nails, peeling at the glittery pink gloss.

"hey."

your eyes tore themselves away to gaze up at... sae-byeok?

"sae?" you said in disbelief. "you came!"

she shifted in place uncomfortably, it was clear she was out of her element.

you took the time to get a good look at her, and when you did, butterflies erupted in your stomach.

she was dressed in a suit, her eyes smeared with a bit of dark shadow. there was no mascara or eyeliner to be found, but it was so imperfectly her.

"why are you sitting here by yourself?"

"i -" you shook your head, smiling sheepishly. "i mean - i didn't come with anyone."

"you look pretty." she says.

"thank you." you finally give her your award winning smile, which was adorned with a shy flush.

the music slows down and you gaze at her nervously. "did you come for me?"

"why else would i be here?"

"true." you reply with a laugh.

there's a beat of music drenched in silence.

"dance with me." she says with a slight demand.

"dance with you?" you ask dumbly.

"isn't that what you do here at things like this?"

"yeah - i... yeah i'll dance with you."

she extends her long hand and you take it, your already damp body heating even more at the feeling of her skin against yours.

you can feel people staring, and you aren't sure if it's because she's wearing a suit, or if it's because you're you and she's her, but in the moment, it's the last thing you were thinking about.

your arms find themselves around her neck, and her hands land on your waist.

you're alight with nerves, your body trembling in fear, excitement, and anticipation.

you both begin to sway with no rhyme or reason, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

"sae..." you begin. you can't look at her, so you focus on the black bow-tie on her delicate neck.

"i know this is probably going to ruin everything, but i can't hold it anymore. every time i'm with you, it hurts. it hurts because of how much i love you." you ramble with a disbelieving laugh.

you can tell she's stopped moving, but she doesn't remove her hands from your waist. they don't tighten or tug you closer, they just sit on your body like dead weight.

"i'm sorry i fell in love with you, kang sae-byeok." you finally look up at her, and there are tears in your eyes. "it was just impossible not to."

her eyes are wide, disbelief swimming in her irises; but there was also hesitation, fear. she didn't know what to do, or what to say.

"when i first saw you, i thought you were the prettiest woman i've ever laid my eyes on. even if you were a bit mean about it." you laugh again wetly.

you giggle anxiously, untangling yourself from her and shrinking into yourself in defense the longer she takes to respond.

"i - i get it if you don't feel the same -"

she cuts you off by grabbing your hand, tugging you with her as she begins to walk, the soles of her torn up black converse scruffing the shined flooring.

the music dies behind you when the doors open and you're walked into the starry night outside.

"sae-byeok."

"i didn't want to do this inside." she says and when she turns to you, her eyes are glazed over.

"don't expect a big confession from me, but i like you too." she's standing like she's on the defense.

it was your turn to be in disbelief. "you do?"

"i already said i did."

you just laugh once more, and shake your head. "i don't need a big confession, sae. i just need you. just like this. just like now."

you both have a long way to go, and who knows if this is forever, but you think that's just fine.

© ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused .ᐟ

[everythingisamazing]

I actually think Jayvik not kissing in the finale was the right choice. Even though, I really wanted them to. Here's why: 1. It would have felt rushed. While both seasons could have done with roughly 2 more episodes, I feel like they managed to tell Jayviks story in the time they had up to the point where we last see them well. We basically saw enough to understand Jayces emotional progression, realizing how important Viktor truly was to him and why he chose to die by his side. But adding a completely new element into their relationship a literal minute before what they presume are their final moments, would have imo been more for the satisfaction of the viewers than something super fitting for the characters to do. (It's really about the timing - as I have explained here, I am a firm believer that post finale jayvik would 100% kiss). I mean, imagine it from their pov. Jayce just finally managed to convince Viktor to even let him stay by his side, because Viktor feels like he doesn't deserve it. I don't think he is going to do something he isn't absolutely sure Viktor would be willing to accept, in the little time they have left. And as for Viktor - I am quite certain he does understand how Jayce feels about him in the end, from peering into his memories and judging by the look he gives him, right before they embrace the final time. I think the novel sensation of kissing, was not as important to either of them in that moment, as was simply holding on to each other. It's a bit like the final scene in "Seeking a friend for the end of the world", where the main characters are lying in bed, knowing they are about to die. They don't kiss in that moment. Doesn't mean they weren't inlove. (Actually, now that I think about it, it's a lot like that scene and I've just made myself sad remembering it) 2. I would argue that because in the world of Arcane the forehead touch has a broader meaning than a kiss on the lips, it is better suited to show the all-encompassing-and-beyond-anything-we-know nature of Jayviks relationship. It doesn't mean that it isn't romantic also. In the same, final episode, we can see a couple from Zaun, who are clearly in a romantic relationship since they have a child together, do it before saying goodbye. So the show explicitly shows that the forehead touch is something that is done with the people who matter most, whereas a kiss can be a more casual thing in comparison. Of course, there is always the argument that the creators didn't make them kiss because they were queerbaiting all along. I was kind of on the fence about this, but ever since starting to analyze scenes and write meta, I've become pretty convinced that what they wanted to create, was in fact what ended up being in the show: an almost unfathomably deep, soul bonding, fate defying relationship, that spans across different universes. So yeah, kiss or no kiss, Jayvik canon.

[allllium]

Secret

~ This took so much longer than I wanted it to, yay writers block right? 😭

~ Angst, Fluff at end, WC:2,737

~Remus is keeping a secret

Your boyfriend is cheating on you. That's the only explanation for the way he's acting. Every month he disappears, not just for an hour or two, but full days. Most of the time he disappears for about two to three days. And even if he doesn't disappear, he acts super weird around you.

You've tried to ask James and Sirius about it, but of course they never say anything. They are loyal to bone, which usually you respect but now it's just frustrating. You thought you were a part of the group, clearly you were wrong.

What are you supposed to do? You've already tried his friends, and spent months obsessing over behavior. Analyzing every little thing he does for you and other people, trying to find out who Remus would rather be with than you. You can't keep feeling like this.

You're in the library, trying and failing to focius on your book. Usually Remus would be here with you, but he's not. You haven't seen him since yesterday morning, when he all but pushed you out of his dorm room.

At first this whole thing was frustrating, and confusing, but now you feel rejected, a feeling your boyfriend should never give you. At first you raked your mind for any other reason why Remus would act like this. You went through things like illness, something about his friends, family maybe, you even thought it might have something to do with school work, but none of those explain why he's nowhere to be seen.

So now here you are. On the verge of tears while sitting in the library, wishing he would just come clean about what he's doing. At least then it would be easier to break up with him. But what can you do without proof, left with nothing but a bad feeling.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” You are quickly pulled from your thoughts by James’s voice coming from behind you. He's always been incredibly sweet to you, mostly because he thought it would help convince Lily to go out with him, but you also know he's just a naturally good person.

“Fine, Jamie.” You give him the best smile you can muster, obviously he sees right through it. He slings his arm around your shoulder and plops down in the seat next to you.

“What's on your mind?” He seems genuinely concerned but you don't believe it. Real friends tell friends when they're being cheated on. You wish. In real life, however, they always stay loyal to whoever came first. You love that Remus has such great support when he needs it but what about you?

“It's nothing, doesn't matter.” You try your best to reassure him.

“No, something is clearly wrong. How can I help?”

“It's nothing, James, just drop it. Please.” He knows you're serious when you use his real name, usually resorting to some stupid nickname.

“Yeah, okay. If you need anything just let me know.” You only nod as he turns to leave. You take a big breath when you're alone again.

You're honestly trying not to panic. You love Remus, a lot. But you can't be with a cheater, you just can't. And if you break up with him then you lose all your friends, because of course, they were his friends first. Which means you have to start over, all alone. Yeah, no reason to panic.

Over the next few days you don't see Remus. Not because of him, this time it's you trying to disappear. This is what happens, he ignores you for a few days then comes back all clingy as if nothing happened. The first couple times you tried to ask about it but you never got a straight answer. He told you he was busy with his friends or with school, which was clearly a lie, so eventually you stopped asking.

You've had to change your daily routine a lot just to avoid him. Instead of going to his dorm for bed, you go to your own. You're not eating in the dining hall, because he would sit with you. You're sitting away from him in class and turning the other way when you see him in the halls. Apparently your avoidance has been so obvious, McGonagall stopped him after a class to ask what happened. You didn't stay long enough to overhear his answer.

“Oh, Angel!” You hear your boyfriend’s voice call for you in the hallway, you do nothing but walk faster, knowing you won't be able to keep it together long enough to face him right now. “I know you heard me.” His voice is much closer as he grabs your shoulder to stop you. He takes the books out of your hand and holds them behind his back.

“What do you want, Remus?” You ask him, not turning around.

“I want to know why my girlfriend has been ignoring me for days now?”

You no longer feel sad when you finally turn and look at him, the irony of his statement filling you with sudden frustration and anger, “Oh really? What about you Remus? You ignore me for days every month and I still don't have an answer for that!”

He stays silent, analyzing your expression before continuing, “It's different,” is all he says.

“How Remus? I would love for you to explain how exactly this is different.”

“It just is!”

“You know what, I don't even care. Come find me when you can explain, otherwise don't bother.” You feel like you're going to collapse as you walk away, leaving him in the hall, with your books in his hand.

You didn't think it would be this hard. Yet after a few more days have passed it seems Remus took the ‘don't bother’ part of your speech more seriously than any other.

You honestly thought he would at least try to give you any kind of explanation. Even if it is a lie.

James and Sirius haven't talked to you either. Remus obviously told them about what you said, they don't want to be friends with you if you aren't with Remus.

Over the last few days, you've spent a lot more time with Lily and the rest of the girls.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” Lily asks you. You're sitting with her in her dorm with Mary and Pandora.

“I don't know what to say.” You shrug. What are you supposed to say? You don't want to tell her Remus is probably cheating on you, on the very off chance he isn't. And you don't want to admit how much you miss being around him.

“What did you guys fight about?” Mary pipes up. At this point the whole school has noticed the behavior between the two of you. Everyone has been talking about it, spreading theories as to why such a happy couple has been acting like this.

“It wasn't a fight,” You begin to explain to the girls, “I told him unless he can tell me why he keeps disappearing I don't wanna talk to him.”

You don't miss the look Lily and Pandora exchange. Mary focuses her gaze onto the floor, none of them look at you as Pandora speaks up this time.

“I mean he probably has a good reason.” She tries to offer.

“And you all know, don't you?” Great, you're officially the only one who doesn't know this secret your boyfriend is keeping.

“It's not what you think.” Lily tells you softly.

“Then why won't he tell me?”

“I don't know,” Lily tells you again, “Maybe you should talk to him.”

“I tried that, but it didn't work.”

“Then don't ask him to talk, tell him you're not happy. I promise he's not trying to hurt you.”

“And how do you know? He apparently told everyone but me Lily, what am I supposed to think?”

No one responds.

“I don't know what to do.” Remus tells his friends, running his hands over his face in despair.

“Well, I vote you stop being a dumbass but we know that won't happen.” Sirius offers him. The four of them haven't left their dorm all day, trying to convince Remus he needs to be honest with you. Actually Peter and Sirius have been trying to convince him, James hasn't talked to him all day. He knows why you were upset in the library and isn't trying to hide his irritation, however, he doesn't want to say something to hurt Remus. So he stays quiet.

“I agree. What's the worst that can happen?” Peter shrugs, you'd think Remus would listen to him considering he's the one in the longest lasting relationship.

“Uh, she could leave me!” He practically shouts, rolling his eyes at the look shared between Sirius and Peter.

“Oh you mean like what she wants to do now?” Remus doesn't even notice who says it, too distracted by the ice running through his veins.

“You really think she'll want to break up over this?” His voice is barely a whisper, the slight heartbreak clear in his tone.

“This is one of the biggest parts of your life and you haven't told her. She knows you've been lying about it and you haven't talked to her once since she said “don't bother.” In my opinion all you're doing is showing her you don't care.” Peter tries his best to explain this gently to Remus. Not wanting to hurt him but knowing Remus won't actually understand till he knows how you feel about it.

“I need to tell her. I just- I don't want her to leave me because of it.”

James lets out an exasperated sigh at Remus's words. “She's not going to leave you for being a werewolf, she loves you just as much as you love her. If she breaks up with you it's because of how long you've kept this a secret.

Another week goes by with no word for Remus. You're started to give up hope that he'll even try to talk to you again. Unless to finally end this relationship. Thinking about either of these options hurt your heart, not wanting this to end or go on.

“It's not until you're leaving the dining hall after dinner that you're pulled into an empty classroom. You can tell by the touch on your wrist that it's him.

“What do you want, Remus?” You immediately ask. You try to keep your face as straight as possible, not wanting him to see how upset you really are.

“I need to explain.”

“Seriously? Now?”

“Can I please just tell you what's going on? You can yell or insult me all you want afterwards, I just need you to know.” He lets go of your wrist but refuses to look away from your face.

You give a small nod in agreement but it's all he needs to jump right into what he wants to say, you have the feeling this whole plan was practiced beforehand.

“I was not trying to hurt you. I love you a lot. More than I have ever loved anything before and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you because I'm not normal. I figured if there were something wrong with who I am, I can change, I can fix that but I can't fix something I have no control over and I felt like I would die if I lost you because of it.”

“Because of what?” Is all you ask.

He takes a deep breath before finally explaining, “I'm a werewolf.”

“Oh screw you.” You roll your eyes and quickly walk out of the classroom.

Remus doesn't follow you out. He stays standing in the empty room for a few minutes, confused about the interaction that just took place.

He comes to your shared class almost halfway through and doesn't look at you until it's over.

“Angel, please talk to me.” Remus begs, following out of the classroom. You shake your head and begin to speed up your walk. He grabs your wrist and pulls you into him, “Baby please.”

“What do you want, Remus? Here to lie to me more.” You turn around to confront him.

“I'm not lying about being a werewolf.” He defends, eyes widening in bewilderment.

“That's not what I'm mad about.” Your tone grows more angry as you talk. “We've been dating for how long now and you don't tell me your biggest secret? You've had me panicking every fucking month wondering where you where and who you were with. All because you what? Can't trust me with this big secret?”

Remus visible winces as your voice grows louder. “Please don't be so loud.”

“Oh yeah! Don't trust me not spill anything!”

“That's not what I meant, love. Can we just talk about this, somewhere private.”

“So what? So you can make up some lame excuses?” You turn again and try to leave.

“No angel, that's not why I didn't tell you.”

You pause. As much as you want to keep walking you love him. Deep inside you know exactly why he didn't tell you but you don't think you can bear to hear him say it. You know it's not because of you but you feel like you failed. You feel as if you failed to make him know just how much you love him, just how worth it he is. You want nothing more than for him to be happy and if he hasn't told you about his big secret clearly he's happy enough with you.

“It has nothing to do with you, I promise. I wanted to tell you so many times, so much more than you know but whenever I tried I couldn't. My mouth wouldn't open as much as I tried. I was terrified that you would leave, I know you never would, okay, I know. But the thought that you could stopped me, it stops me from doing many things.”

“Why?” You ask, tears arriving in your eye line.

“Because I can't live without you. I know how cheesy that sounds but it's true. All my life I've dealt with the consequences of being a werewolf even from people that don't know. You have helped me be myself more than anyone ever has and that's enough. I can't bear the thought of you leaving let alone the thought of knowing I pushed you away. Knowing this pushed you away and it wasn't something I could stop because if I could I would. I know it makes things harder for you. I hear how people talk about you because of my scars and how awkward I am and you don't deserve that, you've made me think that maybe I don't deserve it either. I can't lose you. I can't let this push you away because without you I go back to who I used to be. And now that you've shown me who I really am, I can't go back to being him.”

You listen to his words silently, trying your best not to let the tears fall. He doesn't deserve to feel this way and hearing him admit that makes you want to cry with happiness for him, for yourself in succeeding to make him feel as loved as he is. You want to tell him this but he continues.

“I love you, angel. And I'm so sorry I couldn't get myself to tell you before. I am so sorry I made you worry and made other people lie for me. I don't know what to say except for that. I don't know how I can make this better.”

“You already did, Rem.” This time you turn to face him, seeing the tears on his face break your heart even more. “I mean I can't really fault you for your mouth sabotaging you.”

A small smile blooms on his face. “How dare it.”

“I know what it's like to be that anxiety. I thought you were cheating on me.”

“I would never!” He looks genuinely offended at your words.

“I know baby, but there's still that fear.”

“I'm really sorry.” He pulls you in for a hug.

“I know, Rem. I wish I could've helped you more.”

“Dove, you've already done more than enough, I love you.”

“I love you too. But if I find out you're keeping something else I'll kill you as you sleep.”

You feel Remus grin into the crook of your neck.

[hollyoongs]

⤷ W/U, LATE NIGHTS DON'T MEAN A THING!

시놉시스┆ 𐑙eehan, ─────⠀f!reader 𓂅 𝑤.𝑐: +2.3k ꒰ ⌗ fluff and lots of shyness ꒱ ↷⠀ ℰditoral ! 𓂂

You don't even know how many times you have turned in bed, insomnia taking you over like it used to do. The clock on your nightstand reads 11:27 PM, and you sigh, staring at the ceiling. No matter how much you try, sleep evades you like it used to do from the past two years, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Your phone vibrates beside you, the glow of the screen illuminating your dark room. You reach for it and smile at the contact name.

Come outside if you're not sleepy.

Your eyes widen, hesitating for a moment before pushing the covers aside. The cold air nips at your skin as you go to your window, confirming he is actually there. Leehan stands outside your dorm, hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

You take your phone back as you click on the "Call" icon, watching how he doesn't wait to answer.

"How come you're awake this late?" you say, watching as he turns his back to you slowly. "Hey! It's bad education turning your back on people."

After you say that, he turns back to his original position, finding you until he does, a small smirk plastered on his face.

"I'm awake by my own will, thank you very much. Also, I know college has been rough on you and how much you love stargazing." After that, your view shifts to the sky, rubbing your eyes. "From your spot there aren't so many, but I know a place where you can see them. So, let's go see the stars?"

You hung up after you said “yes,” put on a hoodie, and quietly snuck out of your dorm with your emergency keys in your pocket in case you came too late. After being fully out of your place, Leehan came close to you with a smile on his face; you took your time analyzing what he was wearing.

His hoodie was slightly oversized as usual, a faded navy blue that looked well-worn, baggy jeans that fit him just right, and sneakers that had the faintest scuff marks. His long brown hair was tousled, and his wrist was wearing a bracelet you gave him when you helped a friend do her Taylor Swift-inspired ones, his being a baby blue color with the number ‘21’ in it.

“You good? Or is insomnia still your enemy?” He asked, tilting his head and cupping yours with his hands; they were a little warm in comparison to the weather. Your eyes closed at the sensation of his thumb caressing your cheek.

"Insomnia, so let's hope the stars can calm me enough to sleep when I come back."

Leehan smiled, tugging you gently by the wrist as the two of you began walking. The campus was eerily quiet, only the distant hum of the city breaking the silence. The two of you walked in comfortable silence until you reached the parking lot. Leehan led you to his car, a slightly beat-up but well-loved sedan, and opened the passenger door for you. “Ladies first.”

“Thank you, Donghyun.” You smiled, sliding into the seat.

The drive was quiet, the roads mostly empty as he took you away from the bright lights of the campus. He glances at you occasionally, the soft glow of the dashboard lights illuminating his face in the dim car, the soft R&B music coming from the radio, and sometimes both of you singing was a good way to spend the time. 

After about twenty minutes, he pulled off onto a dirt road, the pavement giving way to gravel. The car jolted slightly as he maneuvered through the bumpy path, finally stopping at an open clearing. When you stepped out, the night air hit you full force, crisp and clean. And above you two, spread across the sky, were thousands of stars, glittering like tiny diamonds.

“Wow,” your breath hitched, fully concentrating on the beautiful sky. The moon was full, shining as bright as the stars. You didn’t realize what Leehan was doing until he stood next to you.

“Wanna eat something?” When he said that, he noticed your confused face, pointing at what he did. A couple blankets were placed on the floor, two bags of snacks and two cans of soda on it, you looked back at him, Leehan was facing down and thanks to the light of the of the moon, you could see a faint blush on his cheeks, the same blush that you had in yours.

“Yes, I would,” you said, both sitting next to each other. Leehan didn’t even make you touch any of the food, opening everything for you. You hug your knees to your chest. “The stars are pretty.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “They really are.”

You looked at him; he was already looking at you. The silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You have gone out with Leehan plenty of times already; the case was that this felt way more intimate.

Leehan cleared his throat, looking away for a second before grabbing a can of soda and offering it to you. “You know,” he started, his voice a little hesitant, “I like moments like this.”

You took the soda from his hand, fingers brushing slightly. “Me too,” you admitted.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I mean, I like spending time with you. More than I should.” Your heart skipped a beat. Leehan had his gaze fixed on the stars; you could tell that wasn't what he was really focusing on.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The gentle night breeze rustles through the trees, the distant chirping of crickets filling the silence. Then, cautiously, Leehan reached out, his fingers brushing against yours before intertwining them. It was more of an attentive touch, but that simple action sent warmth spreading through you.

“What are you thinking about, Donghyun?” 

“How the moon is always present ever since we have met each other.” You laughed softly.

“How poetic,” you said, and he pushed you tenderly, laughing soon after.

“No, but think about it. The first time we met, it was under the same sky. It was during freshman orientation, remember? You were sitting alone on the campus lawn, sketching something in your notebook. I remember being drawn to you even then, but I didn’t want to pull a move until Jaehyun took a seat next to you, and you barely looked at us." You laughed as you nodded, remembering the moment your friend Jaehyun set you two up.

When Leehan finally got you to talk, you told him you loved the night sky the moment he saw the doodle of the full moon of that night and accidentally let out that it made you feel like you weren’t alone.

Leehan continued. "After that, I kept finding excuses to see you at night—study sessions in the library that conveniently lasted past sunset, late-night walks to clear our heads before exams. Every time, the moon was there.”

Leehan smiled at the memory, his gaze softening as he continued. “Then there was that night when we got caught in the rain after a late study session. You laughed as we ran across campus, completely drenched, and I remember thinking that I’d never seen someone look so beautiful. We sat under the covered pavilion, shivering but laughing, and you told me your dream was to travel the world and see the constellations from different places. That was when I knew I wanted to be part of your journey, in any way I could.”

He exhaled, eyes fixed on yours now. “And then there was the night of the meteor shower. We sneaked out of the dorms, climbed up to the rooftop, and just lay there, watching the sky light up. You fell asleep before it ended, and I remember staying up just to make sure you were warm. I never told you, but that night, I made a wish.”

You tilted your head. “What did you wish for?”

Leehan hesitated, then smiled. “For more nights like that. For more moments with you, with the person that made me learn what it feels like to like someone.”

You felt your breath catch because it felt like the universe had been pulling you together all along. Your eyes met, and for once, neither of you looked away. Slowly, as if testing the waters, Leehan lifted a hand to brush a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek.

You swallowed hard, your breath uneven. “Leehan…”

“Can I?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the night breeze.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply nodded. That was all the permission he needed.

He leaned in, closing the space between you, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most reverent way. It was tentative at first, gentle, as if he was afraid you might pull away. But when you didn’t, when you kissed him back with equal tenderness, he deepened it, his hands cradling your face like you were something precious. And to him, you were.

As the kiss broke, you both lingered in the quiet space between breaths. The world seemed to hold its breath with you when Leehan pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closed as he steadied his breathing and heart.

“Look,” he began, voice soft yet full of sincerity, “I—"

But the words caught in his throat, and he let out a small, nervous laugh. “I’m not great with words, as you can tell.” He hesitated again, his hands nervously fidgeting with the fabric of the blanket beneath you both. “I’ve been wanting to say something for a while, but… I don’t know if it’ll make sense. But after the kiss, I think you kind of have an idea of what I'm meaning.”

You reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I think I do," you murmured, your thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles. "But I want to hear it from you."

Leehan inhaled deeply, his fingers tightening around yours; he dropped his gaze to your joined hands, swallowing hard before looking back up at you.

"Sorry, you make this so hard."

Your lips twitched. "I'm just sitting here."

"Exactly." He ran a hand through his hair, eyes flickering between yours and the stars above. "You just—you make me feel things I don't know how to say. I'm usually so good at talking, but with you, I get all… weird."

"Weird?" you teased, tilting your head.

"Yes. Weird. Like, I forget how to be my usual self because all I want to do is impress you, or make you laugh, or just be around you even if we're not saying anything." He exhaled sharply, his free hand clenching into a fist before relaxing. "I guess what I'm trying to say is… I like you. A lot. Probably more than I should. Probably more than I know what to do with."

"Leehan…"

He shook his head, giving you a sheepish grin. "I told myself I wouldn't be a coward about this, but here I am, stumbling over my words." He met your gaze then, all hesitation gone. "I fell for you. And it terrifies me how fast you made me be completely at your mercy."

The vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache in the best way and made you kiss him again. Leehan could feel those butterflies in his stomach that Sungho told him once; he felt warmth in his heart just like Jaehyun and Riwoo mentioned whenever they were with their respective partners and even felt his whole world stop with you being his center of attention, or those were the words said by Taesan and Woonhak.

You broke up the kiss; you had this impulse, and before you knew it, you moved, your hands sliding over his shoulders for balance as you straddled his lap. His hands instinctively found your waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of your shirt as if grounding himself in the reality of you being so close.

Leehan swallowed hard, his eyes darting between yours, searching for any sign of hesitation. But there was none. Only warmth, only you.

"Is this okay?" Your voice was barely above a whisper; he let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

"You're really asking that after you've completely stolen my ability to think straight?"

You smiled, tilting your head, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the curve of his jaw. "I just want to make sure."

His hands tightened at your waist, thumbs brushing the exposed skin that escaped from your hoodie. "Yeah," he breathed. "More than okay."

Your arms went around his neck while his went behind him to support himself. He just admired you, no second intentions in his gaze, unlike the pose you two were in at the moment.

"Y/N?"

"Yes, Donghyun?"

"Would you be my girlfriend?"

A slow smile spread across your lips as you brushed your fingers through his hair. "I thought you'd never ask," you said as you leaned in just enough that your noses brushed.

Leehan let out a shaky laugh. "So… is that a yes?"

"Of course, it's a yes," you finally said, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. "I'd love to be your girlfriend, Leehan."

The relief that washed over his face was immediate. His arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace, pulling you impossibly closer as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N," he murmured, voice laced with affection.

You laughed, threading your fingers through his hair. “Good thing I’ll be here to keep you alive then.”

Leehan pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, his expression soft. “Yeah,” he said, smiling, “I think I could get used to that.”

And with that, he kissed you again—this time with no hesitation, no uncertainty, just the overwhelming joy of knowing that you were his.

─── SITUATIONSHIP LEEHAN!?!? as you can see, i love down-bad characters. shout out to BND's song "So let's go see the stars" that made me jump in my bed with this scenario. @onedoornet

[fancyfade]

Difference between Bruce and Dick as Batman.

So I know that there's a lot of temptation to compare Bruce as Batman to Dick or Damian, and Dick as Batman to Damian, often with a "oh well obviously Bruce was meaner/Dick was nicer", but I do think they have a neat contrast that fandom often overlooks (as well as some parallels).

Robin: Year One #3

Batmatn #408

Batman and Robin #6

Dick and Bruce both will deal with whatever current threat exists, before fully helping wounded Robin, getting a verbal "I'm fine" confirmation. They clearly do care about Robin. But they also have an obligation to protect people Bruce tries to physically stop joker. Jason's not fighting Dick, but he is trying to talk him down and talk him into getting help, like he did in Battle for the Cowl. The characters also generally avoid a wounded Robin -- it's just easier to see for Bruce, because Leslie calls Bruce out on it "you're leaving (to go deal with this?)" whereas no one questions Dick leaving Damian once he's got medical care and doing his own mission to revive zombie bruce. I imagine this is partially from guilt (we do see Bruce blaming himself for Dick's close call, and Dick framing Damian as his responsibility in Battle for the Cowl) and also possible due to the whole 'batman has a job, robin's physically OK now so time to help protect people' thing.

A strong difference is after the character's get injured and treated. Bruce becomes overprotective, and continues being emotionally distant, which understandably upsets Dick. He is so overprotective he benches Dick each time he is wounded seriously, and that creates friction between them.

Robin: Year One

Batman #408

Contrast this to Dick's general lack of protectiveness. Nothing changes when Damian gets wounded as Robin. Which works well (emotionally) for Damian and it works for the conventions of the genre.

Dick is generally not portrayed as very emotionally overprotective when Damian is injured, and when Damian is captured, he often expresses more verbal concern for the people who captured Damian than Damian himself.

Batman and Robin #9 - Damian, with a new metal spine, got thrown off a building by the zombie batman dick accidentally revived.

Batman and Robin #13

Detective comics annual #11

I should note: I think it would be uncharitable to assume that Dick expressing more verbal concern that Damian will hurt the supervillains who have him kidnapped means Dick doesn't care about Damian. We see in Batman and Robin some of Dick being worried when Damian is shot, and we see Dick telling Azrael they need to find a quicker way to get to Damian when Azrael is talking about how to find the guys who took him. And also, you know. I just don't think Dick would care more about the supervillains that Damian. But Damian is regarded as a tough kid, he'll be fine no matter what, and he represents a threat to other people (interestingly, something I've seen fans accuse... Bruce of doing to damian? Even though Bruce was much more protective and wasn't worried about Damian killing Nobody when Damian was going with Nobody, or Damian killing the Saturn Club guys when Damian let himself by kidnapped by the Saturn club guys to find civilians to rescue)

But I am analyzing here the actions he does and the words that he says, and what the writer dedicates panel time to. I think it's interesting that Bruce and Dick's similarities with regards to Robin getting injured involve emotionally removing themselves from the situation and focusing on cases, and then their differences are in the follow up. Dick often maintains a status quo, which is satisfying to the Robin character (he does not feel like he's being fired or judged) and fits with the conventions of the genre. Bruce often becomes overprotective to a degree where the Robin character feels estranged from him, and is excluded, resulting in alienation from robin and coming across as the "bad guy".

I find it very interesting that Dick avoids repeating mistakes of the past that Bruce made (becoming overprotective of Robin to an alienating degree and firing him) by doing things that would be read as callous or uncaring to the reader if he wasn't Dick, I guess.

P.S. I know some people say this is why they regard Morrison's Dick as OOC, but I didn't have any place to fit that acknowledgement in the above paragraphs, but I think it's important to note that this was not just Morrison's Dick. In general Dick as Batman era was way different than Nightwing Rebirth era Dick or even post 2011 Dick.

[devochive]

Nascent

Jax/Reader. [Fem alinged reader.]

tags: oral sex, virginity, loss of virginity, established relationships, soft(?) jax, fluff, and smut, jax has a tongue.

Also found on my Ao3 | 2k words.

minors dni.

Jax's gloved fingers tip toed up your side, and you shivered.

"What's wreckin' ya mind dollface, you're bein a little too quiet tonight." You shuffled on the bed before rolling onto your side to face him. "Thinking too much.. I miss home. Being stuck here.. sucks." Jax was silent as you spoke, but a lazy smile was atill present on his lips. "Mnh. Yeeaaahh.. never gets old does it?" Jax laid on his back, hands folded behind his head now. 

You took this chance to lay on his chest, nuzzling him a little. He grinned , but before he could say something sly you spoke up instead— 

"Jax, I ... think I wanna try it." You mumbled into his chest. 

"Mhmm.. try what?" His eyes were closed now. He was clearly relaxing, and your words weren't exactly clicking right now. 

"It.. you know.. I just need something to take my mind off of things and—" Jax suddenly sat up , his chest bumping into your nose. His hands were on your shoulders, steading you. "You're not messin' with me, are ya? I'd like to think I've been really respectful of your boundaries lately, ya know." It sounded like he didn't believe you, but he was trying his hardest not to sound like an ass. He got a few gropes in here and there but never pushed you farther than you wanted to go. 

"I'm.. serious. We'll just take it slow.." You said and felt your cheeks growing warm at the thought of being intimate with him. You've thought about it a lot but always chickened out.

"I dunno toots, I'm not sure I could hold bac—..." His hand was gliding up your back, but you shot him a look and he chuckled. Raising his hands in his defense. "Alright, alright slow it is.." After all he doesn't have to move fast to drive you crazy anyways. 

"W.. Well how do we.. start? It's.. not like I can make out you.. I think." Right, you guys always exchange nuzzles instead. But Jax rolls his eyes and adjusts himself on the bed, "Just lay back will ya? I'll lead the way." 

You swallowed and did like he said, falling to the plush of your bed and you felt his hands on your legs. Spreading them apart , you were resisting a little and he paused. "C'mon , I said I'd be gentle and I will babe. Scouts honor." He crossed his heart before grinning down at your nervous form. 

"S.. Sorry, I haven't even been this far in the real world no less the digital.." You said embarrassed by your lack of experience. Hoping Jax wouldn't tease you too badly, but he seemed to be taking your feelings into consideration. 

"Digital or not , I'm glad ya happened to save yourself for me. Now let me show you how much I appreciate that.. yeah?" He removed your lower clothing and the cold air hitting your skin caused you to shiver. You swore you saw his eyes grow dark for a moment but you didn't have a chance to analyze his expression too much before he yanked you a little by your ankles down the bed and closer to him. "Eep..!"  His head was in between your legs now, and you felt something wet running along your thighs, "Jax !?" 

"Mmn? I'm in the middle of something doll—" 

"I.. Is that your ..tongue..!?" You cut him off and he chuckled you could feel his breath against your skin but he didn't answer. Continuing his assault on your thighs until the wet muscle finally found your folds and you stiffened up, trying to move away from the strange and new sensation but his hands pulled you back gently. "Mnh.. listen , babe. Ya gotta let me know if I'm doin' somethin' wrong alright?" He lifted his head, leaving your cunt clenching and aching for more.

"N.. No, I..I'm sorry I was just surprised— I didn't know you could.. it doesn't matter just continue.. please." You turned your head to the side, avoiding his intense eye contact.

"Before that, give me a word. So....ya know. I'll know when to stop," He said , still admiring your more vulnerable position right now.

"Uh.." You can't think, your mind clouded by the ever growing lust bubbling in your core. "I.. I don't know.. uh, circus!"

He scoffed, clearly amused. "How original." 

"Ha. Ha. I can't really think right now, Jax– aahh..!" Your hips bucked as his tongue flicked against that sensitive bean hidden between your folds. Oh, he liked that noise. A little too much, and now he needed more. And he a knew a trick that would keep you singing so sweetly for him. 

He licked and flicked at your clit before flatting his long tongue against you dragging his tongue agonizingly slow along your puffy cunt before pulling back, maybe because your thighs were crushing his head now. "Look toots, I know I'm rockin your world here but ya gotta keep those legs open for me yeah?" He said in a somewhat strained voice, prying your legs apart again.

You nodded, your eyes glossy with tears. You were so needy in this moment that you'd do anything he'd ask. "Close 'em again and I'll stop, how about that for a little motivation.~" His voice was playful but, you knew he was serious and that made your insides twist a little.

"Th.. That isn't fair Jax..!" You whined and kept your legs spread even so, though they trembled and you felt even more exposed keeping them open yourself rather him holding them apart.

"Pleaaasee. To be honest, I think it's perfectly fair. You told me to take slow, not that I couldn't be a little mean.. isn't that what ya love about me after all?" He said in a breathy tone, before his eyes were on your cunt again.

"You're gorgeous ya know that? Don't.. tell anyone I said that. Compliments are like currency here." He said with a tad bit of annoyance lacing his tone, "I only wanna spend that on you .." He muttered before lowering himself to go down on you again. 

But this time, he was purposely being more attentive. His tongue even diving into your cunt, wiggling its way into your tight hole. And a thick finger sliding inside, you yelped and your legs threatned to close around his head but you forced to yourself to hold your trembling thighs apart. Having his finger to clench down on made it easier to cause friction and push you closer to climax.

Tears spilled over your cheeks from the stimulation and frustration. 

"Mmn... mmf.." Jax moaned against your sopping wet cunt, removing his finger and using his tongue instead.. thrusting it in and out of your hole. His lidded eyes bored into your skull, you looked delicious to him when you cried.

You couldn't take it, your body jolted and legs locked around his head as you came. Soiling his face in the process. "Hh.. Hhaa..! Damn it.." 

Jax tutted as he lifted his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ya didn't keep your legs open at the end there.. Hm, I'm not sure I should let you get away with that." The tone of his voice was playful. He grins, that shit eating grin while staring at you as he climbed atop your quivering body. You were clearly still coming down from your high. 

"H..Huh..? Jax.. I couldn't help it.." You sighed, chest heaving up and down. "Please.." You reached out for his hand and he allowed you, still speaking as his gloved thumb rubbed the back of your hand gently. 

"Yeah, yeah of course you couldn't.. .I'm good at what I do after all," He said and kneeled in front of your spread legs. "But, we can agree ya need just a little punishment right?" He took your intertwined hands and locked them atop your head, leaving you a little exposed and vulnerable to his touch. 

Pulling his cock from his overalls with the opposite hands, he started stroking it slowly. "But, I'll be gentle like ya said.." He gives a wink before leaning down and nuzzling the side of your face reassuringly. It's all apart of the bit, "You ready for this?" He whispered, making sure you were okay to move forward. 

You were soaked between your legs. More than ready but still a little nervous. "Ready.." You agreed quietly, the tension in the air was palpable. 

You should be relaxed after his reassurance, but the size of his cock resting in his hand was making your body tense and cunt clench around nothing.. in both anticipation and a dash of fear. 

He rubbed the thick tip against your sopping wet hole, and dragged it against your clit, teasing you. "Gentle.. yeeah... mn.." He muttered, getting lost in this bit of pleasure. "So good for me.."

Gentle. Slow. Teasing. 

Fuck, you couldn't take it. He had to be grinding against your cunt for two minutes straight now. 

"Jax..please..please just put it in.." 

"Mmn. Don't worryy..  I'll take of care ya, make you feel reeaal good.." "He said and let go of your hands as he focused on lining himself up with your hole, his tip nudged at your tight hole. Slipping a few times when he tried to push forward, "Too fuckin' tight doll, hold on yeah..? Your cute cunt seems to need some convincing.." He thrusted forward rather hard, a few inches finally pushing past the resistance in your cunt. 

"Jax..!" You yelped in pain, a burning sensation was felt in between your legs and he shushed you, staying completely still. "Hey, hey.. I've got ya, I'm right here.. breathe doll." He said and watched your expressions.. so determined to take him, yet so vulnerable. It made him throb inside of you.

After a several seconds you finally spoke. "Y.. You can move now.." 

He was trying so hard to hold back, it's been forever since he was buried in a pussy. So once you gave him the okay he began to move, albeit slow. More inches sunk into your wet hole. Causing your back to arch a little, "Nngh..." Jax was grunting in your ear until he finally bottomed out inside of you, "There we go, nice and deep in there... ya feel that? Feel me?" He said as his hand traced your stomach just long your belly button.

"So big .. Jax.. feels good.." You panted out, unintentionally bucking your hips forward. "Mmn.. I know doll, Im gonna move alright..?" He said and you nodded, arms around his neck now as he started to slide in and out of you, lewd squishing noises and soft moans and grunts filled the room. You were both lost in the pleasure, your body relaxing more and Jax becoming a bit more rough.

"Yeah.. nngh.. ju-just like that ... take it .." He panted out, taking one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder, his hips were a blur now but your expressions and cries of pleasure was all the reassurance he needed to keep drilling into your cunt. 

Your mind felt cloudly with lust, but that unmistakable knot in your stomach was only getting tighter, threatening to burst. He could feel you, and took this opportunity to draw gentle circles along your clit, "T.. There ya go.. wanna come for me, c'mon.." He egged you on , rolling his hips deep into your cunt. His full weight accompanied each hard thrust.

You tried to hold on , but he knew how to hit every sensitive spot. Over and over. His hips slapping against yours , the sound of your bodies colliding rung in your ears.

"Ffuuahh Jax, gonna co.. come .. gonna..!!" You whined, nails digging into his back as you held him close. Cunt clamping down on his size hard. His own hips stuttered, "D..Damn it, doll.. ya tryna milk me or something..?" He sighed as he spilled into your cunt, unable to resist the way you clamped down onto him. 

He gave a few more shallow thrust, forcing back in the cum that threatned to spill out. "You're perfect.." He sighed out, clearly spent and slowly pulling out of your twitching hole.

"Mmn.. thank you Jax, for this.." You kissed his cheek and out of all things, that seemed to make him flush a little. 

"Don't sweat it.. let's," He cleared his throat, "Get you cleaned up alright.. I'll run a bath," 

"Can't we cuddle for a bit first..?" 

Jax froze and rubbed his neck, "Look toots, I'm not sure about gettin all cuddled up on cum stained sheets," He rose his hands, "Hey, but if thats what you're into I'm not one to kinksh– oof." You tossed a pillow at his face, and he chuckled. 

"Heh, like I thought, now let's get all cleaned up first, then I'll cuddle all you'd like doll.

"Sound like a deal?"