#obviously there are a lot of differences too

[drdemonprince]

if sex is no big deal and just a normal thing like having dinner with someone, how do you square that with the belief that children can't consent to sex? Like idk this whole thing of "sex is a normal act like any other and we shouldn't treat it differently" makes me soo uncomfortable because i feel like it's really obviously not in a lot of situations? Otherwise what's the difference between being told by my boss to have lunch with one of our prospective clients being told by my boss to blow one of our prospective clients? :/

let's take your dinner example to its logical conclusion, because you are on to something here, but I don't think quite in the way that you think.

children are forced to eat food that they this really dislike (due to sensory issues, allergies, or just run of the mill unfamiliarity) quite regularly by their caregivers. they are also sometimes denied the right to eat because they didn't behave the way their caretakers liked, and sent to bed hungry, or barred from eating food that they can handle, and instead left to go hungry because they won't eat food they can't handle.

treatment like this causes a lot of food issues and trauma to children. It exacerbates eating disorders and erodes a child's sense of their own body autonomy. It can also cause children to have nutritional issues and a scarcity mentality around food that can be really damaging to them.

similarly, people are forced to share meals with people who they are viscerally uncomfortable around all the time too, often to extreme negative effects. employees are forced to sit down with clients who debase them or harass them. Young people in particular are forced into sharing tables with relatives who have crossed their boundaries, insulted them, abused them, bullied them, and whom they want nothing to do with. people in recovery from eating disorders are surrounded by co-workers, family members, or friends at meal times who speak about calories and weight loss and comment on their own bodies and other people's bodies in incredibly invasive and triggering ways that often make them feel way worse, and make taking care of their own bodies far more difficult.

when a powerful institution wants to exert control over other people, they also often do so using food. prisoners are given almost no control over the kind of food they eat, and are often given very low quality food that is in a disgusting condition, or that violates their own nutritional requirements or religious beliefs. patients in hospitals and in mental institutions are also subjected to such treatment, and people in poverty are expected to eat anything that they are given without complaint. It is an extension of their dehumanization to control and limit the kinds of food they're allowed to access, and how and when they are permitted to eat.

each of these experiences surrounding food can be incredibly violating and harmful. food is quite frequently a tool of control and abuse. yet it is not because there is some magical quality to food or to dinners that make them uniquely fraught with the potential for trauma. these experiences are traumatic because they involve a violation of a person's body autonomy, and a lack of social power.

sex isn't any different from dinner. we just have a series of cultural beliefs surrounding it that make the pressure involving sex something that's both a lot more acknowledged, and mostly encountered in the private realm.

Sex is treated as an almost magical thing, at once both sinister and sacrosanct, and so people are primed to see the potential for harm in it, and it is frequently used as a tool for harming people because it is so loaded, but that doesn't mean there aren't abuses involving every other mundane human activity that we simply are conditioned to ignore because doing so is so normal.

People's body autonomy surrounding food is violated traumatically all the fucking time. unfortunately because we consider dinner to be a neutral activity and sex to be this incredibly fraught and almost magical one, we ignore the massive amounts of coercion, pressure, and violation surrounding food.

your boss shouldn't be able to force you to get dinner with someone. and people are uncomfortable with discussions about body autonomy that neutralize sex, because it forces them to confront how little freedom we actually have in every facet of our lives.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Breakfast VIII

Ellie Carpenter x Daniëlle van de Donk x Child!Reader

Summary: You look after Ellie

"Yeah, I mean, obviously Daan and I have a kid so our holidays are a little different. We have to cater more to y/n and her needs rather than our own. But, yeah, we make sure our daughter has a lot of fun when we go on trips."

It's such a throwaway comment that Daan can't believe it's become this big thing. No one had ever seemed to care when Beth said a similar thing about you during the days the two of you were at Arsenal.

It's strange that people suddenly have an issue with it when Ellie says it.

But, for some reason, people do have an issue. As if Ellie coming into your life later meant that you and her weren't mother and daughter, as if Daan would plan to marry someone that couldn't bring herself to fill a maternal role in your life.

She shakes her head dismissively as she looks up from Ellie's phone and the doom scrolling her partner had gone through last night.

"They're stupid," Daan says," And strangers saying crap on the internet has no baring on how we're raising our daughter. Okay? No matter what they say, you feeling like y/n's mother isn't wrong and it isn't weird. You're her mother and she's your daughter, alright?"

It's strange to see Ellie so insecure about something. It's not a feeling that Daan likes at all.

"I think so. You think so. Y/n thinks so."

"Does she?" Ellie says back," I just...I don't know, Daan. Does she really?"

"You know she does," Daan insists," Ellie, that girl adores you even if she tries to hide it. She loves you. Who else will try to convince me to get her a gerbil?"

"Pets are good for kids! She's old enough now to understand responsibility."

Daan laughs. "There you go. Having a conversation with me that my parents had when I was younger. You're a good mum, Ellie. No matter what strangers on the internet say."

"I know," Ellie says, putting on a bright smile that Daan can see through easily," I'm just being a bit silly. I know. I promise."

Daan chooses not to push it, dropping a soft kiss to Ellie's lips before heading off towards your bedroom.

You're sitting on the bed, playing with some of the action figures you got for Christmas.

"Hey," Daan says," I'm heading out soon. You promise you'll be good for your Mum?"

You rolls your eyes, huffing and puffing like Daan's interrupted you in the middle of a test instead of just a casual game with your toys.

"I'll be good for Ellie."

"You promise?"

"Yeah."

"Hey..." Daan crouches next to you, hand reaching out to touch your cheek. "Your Mum needs you to be extra good tonight, alright? She...She's feeling a little down right now so, please, just...be good."

Your brow furrows in confusion at how serious Daan sounds and you find yourself nodding.

"I'll be good for Ellie. I promise."

Daan smiles. "Good girl. I should be back later but you'll already be in bed. I love you."

"Love you too."

Ellie hadn't really expected for you to emerge from your room until dinner, too engrossed in making your Autobots fight the Decepticons but here you are, standing in front of her.

"You okay, pipsqueak?"

The thunder crashes before you can speak and you nearly jumped into Ellie's arms.

"Do you think Mumma is okay?" You say," Out in the storm? She gets scared, you know."

"Daan gets scared or you get scared?"

You purse your lips, trying to give an air of indifference that isn't nearly as convincing as you think it is. "I'm a big girl. I'm not scared of anything."

Another crash of thunder has you flinching and Ellie takes pity on you.

"I think Daan is just fine. She'll come home if she's scared."

"Good." You nod. "That's...That's good. She should do that."

Ellie shrugs. "And, you know, when I'm scared of storms, I usually build a fort. That usually helps."

"Right..." You eye the rain soaked windows warily. "You should...You should tell Mumma..."

"Or," Ellie suggests," We can build a fort here...now, for her when she comes back? Would you like that?"

"For Mumma," You make sure to say," Of course."

Ellie bites down her laugh. "For Daan, yes. Because Daan's the one scared of storms."

"Yes. I'll..." You grit your teeth as thunder crashes again and lightning flashes outside. "I'll grab some blankets."

It doesn't take long at all for the fort to be finished, even if it falls multiple times because of the sudden bouts of thunder that make you jump even if you deny it.

"I...I'm not scared," You say, teeth chattering anxiously as you lay on Ellie's chest in the fort," I'm...I'm just doing this so you don't get scared like Mumma does."

"You're doing a good job," Ellie tells you, gentle hands carding through your hair softly," You're making sure I'm not scared at all."

"Mumma said you were feeling down but it's okay," You continue," I...I won't let the storm get you."

"I...Daan said that about me?"

"I don't know how Mumma already knew about the storm but it's okay. I've got you."

Ellie smiles down at you. "I...Thanks, y/n."

"Of course, Mum," You say," I'll protect you."

[k3n-dyll]

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 | 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠; 18+ interactions only, wlw, omg i wrote something SFW!

Sevika being "not good with kids" but kids loving her anyway. She doesn't hate children, of course - she's just awkward around them. Sevika's generally not much of a talker and kids tend to talk a lot, so being left alone with a kid to entertain isn't ideal for her. Not only that but she's big and has a (also big) mechanical arm modified with sharp weapons. The control she has over her arm is unmatched, obviously but the subconscious fear that it's going to malfunction or something too close to a little one is always in the back of her mind when they're around. It never does. Because duh.

Kids though? Oh, they love her. She's quiet, but she's great at "pretending to listen" (as she calls it). As much as she doesn't want to admit it, some of the things kids talk about are deeply entertaining. One time she was 'forced' to listen to a six-year-old daughter of one of Silco's goons talk to her about a game of house that went wrong and the drama between the kid who played the mom and the kid who played the dad was so intriguing she started asking questions like she was watching a reality TV show.

Her height, her strength, and her arm? To any other adult those qualities make her a lethal tank of a soldier. To a kid? Free jungle gym. Kids that sometimes come around her quickly figured out that the most she would do is scowl at them and gently place them back on the ground if they started climbing up onto her, and the scowling doesn't even happen often anymore because one time she made a little girl cry. Now she just rolls her eyes, and entertains it for a little bit before making them get down.

One of the funniest things she discovered she could do is straight up lie. Children lack that filter between their brains and their mouths that blocks adults from saying whatever the Hell they want so they frequently ask about her arm. At first she just dismissed the question, then one day she thought about it and realized...they don't know. She could say whatever she wanted and what were the kids gonna do? Tell her it didn't happen that way?

"Where'd your arm go?"

And then her answer would be something different for each kid:

"It got bitten off by a shark" "I lost it battling a dragon" "This is my arm...I was born with it" "It just didn't wanna be there anymore....seriously, just got up n' walked away from me one day." (a favorite she had to stop using because one day a kid spent the rest of the day clutching his arm in fear that his arm would decide it didn't like him anymore and walk off)

Have y'all ever seen those videos of dudes holding babies weird? Doctors will come on the internet and say it's good for the baby, which, slay, but it's still a weird way to hold a baby, right? That's how Sevika holds babies. She will do everything but hold them 'correctly' for some reason. I once saw this video of a guy carrying his baby by the back of its onesie like cats carry kittens by the scruff of their necks and I could 1000% see Sevika doing just that (obviously once the baby can like, hold its own head up). Or like carrying the baby on their stomach on her forearm (I think it's called a football hold?). It's always a little anxiety-inducing to see but also a little funny because the baby would just be chilling and looking around, not caring how precariously it's dangling in the air.

I dunno what made me do this at 7 in the morning but uh...yeah

Donations 4 Palestine - Arcane Masterlist

Taglist; @archangeldyke-all, @delinthecut @sevsbaby, @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,  @strawberry-shortcakey , @abvisionss , @urbayolet,

@Sillygirl-lol

[emsdevs]

As someone from the south/Appalachia and who has a Canadian friend.....the cultural difference between southern Appalachian reader and ANY of the Hughes boys would be so fucking funny

a/n: when i tell y'all one of my fav things to write is southern!reader... i MEAN it!! give me reqs for southern reader whenever for whoever!! I'll eat it up every time!! enjoy!!!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Multiplayer Headcanons

Quinn:

As said before in the little blurb I put out a few days ago, your stories from the south would haunt him. Quinn sees ghosts? No, he’s just utterly dumbfounded by the things his southern girlfriend says. You could say something off-handedly once, and it would stay on his mind for days. A lot of times, he’s concerned for your general safety. You would just stop and buy things from a stand beside a two-lane road? It’s not the 60’s anymore. That’s not safe. Also, though, he’d be lowkey freaked out by the superstitions that you grew up with. You have to leave through the same door you walked in? You have to put an “x” on the windshield if a cat crosses the road in front of you? What were they teaching you down there? Secretly though, he’d adore hearing the stories and weird little saying and superstitions you have. They’re part of you, and he loves all of you so much. However, that doesn’t mean he won’t judge you just a little bit. Because what even are boiled peanuts? (iykyk)

Jack: 

Little country boy here would eat it up. Constantly bragging to his little country loving friends that he bagged a girl from the south. He’d crack up hearing some of the stuff you said, and he would ADORE your accent. Unfortunately, he is the type of person to horribly imitate it back to you after you said something he thought sounded cute or funny in your accent. His favorite thing would be if you took him line dancing, tho! He would suck at it. Don’t get me wrong, but he’d have the time of his life. Genuinely, tho, I think he’d love learning about where you’re from and how you grew up. He’d wanna know every single thing he could, and he would let you do your thing, no questions asked, if you were following through with a superstition or a habit you grew up with.

Luke:

Now, THIS is a guy who would fully embrace the weirdness that comes with the south (and therefore you). He’d fully embrace the superstitions or the specific way you do things because you were raised doing it that way. You’d only have to mention it ONCE, and he’s doing it before you can. He’ll pick up on the crazy phrases, too. One day you two walk outside, and it’s fairly cold, and before you can say anything at all, you hear Luke go, “It’s colder than a witch’s titty in a brass bra.” Obviously, you’re cracking up, because that should only be said in a southern accent, and he’s pouting because he loves you, and you picked up on his hockey lingo, so why can’t he use your southern lingo? He’d wanna hear EVERYTHING you have to say. Would just lay with you and listen to you talk for hours because he loves the way you talk. He’s a little sweetheart, but also a loser, so he’d fully embrace whatever you threw at him!!

taglist: @heartsforjh @fofiquierellorar @justxpaulina @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @coldheartedmar @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude @one-sweet-gubler @pickedapuck @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @madebyhappymeals @ccomandercody @kirajessie @beenucks @jaes-last-words @books-hlmc @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @t0xicinvasion

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[thelien-art]

Melkor, Manwë & Varda; Most Powerful of the Valar 

Might also be my favorite Valar just need to add Nienna too design HC below↓

Melkor: This is obviously post Silmaril heist as he is already burnt and has white hair, which I HC him getting after fleeing Valinor, as he is said he took a foul form before being trapped in his body, yet when meeting the Edain, he has a fair form, which I explain by the importance of colour.

Colour is important for our welfare as it influences our moods, stimulates our brains, and decides how we experience the world, I find it exciting for Melkor, as a manipulator, to use colour to manipulate, which especially is seen in Angband, and also use it on his body, so when he gets stuck in a physical body, I interpret that as him being unable to fully shed a body, unable to roam simply as a power, and getting his crayons ability to use colour taken from him as punishment, so when the Ainur says he is trapped in a body, all elvers just assume that they mean only one body, and when asking into it the Ainur more or less confirm this as they have problems seeing the difference between being stuck in a body you can change, and being stuck in a body you CAN´T change.

And as always I like to think Melkor created a lot of pressure metal/gemstones, and as is canon in Morgoth´s ring, gold holds the biggest part of him after he poured himself into the world, so gold he shall be clad in😌

Manwë: I take great inspiration from the wedge-tailed and Golden eagle, as well as biblical angels, and peacocks for his clothes. I like the idea of his hair being a part of the sky, just like with Varda giving the "Lords of all Wind" a different sweet respect. He and Melkor, when first making bodies, took forms that looked alike, which he kept, so he looked closest to what Melkor looked like before his downfall.

I give him bronze as it has a warmer told, and I while I don´t doubt he can be cold, I always read him as someone who´s trying to cater to everyone even if it doesn't always go like he wants it to.

Varda: Rearely do I think she goes down to the Eldar, which also means she has a tendency to blend the light of the stars into her body a bit more than what might be safe for those who are not of the Ainur, making her almost transparent with inner light at times, and although she quickly corrects it when she accidentally does it the Eldar says that the reason it hurts looking at her is because of her beauty, much to her own amusement. And then, of course, the underside of her hair is the same night sky you can see closest to the door of night and the gates of morning where it is at its clearest.

I give Varda silver as that was one of the things Melkor couldn´t put his power in, including water, and a little headcanon of mine is she might have had a hand in the star metal being untainted...

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[starcurtain]

Potential Phaidei Crumbs

Some more possible Phaidei crumbs that I've been thinking about and haven't seen people discussing yet:

First, in the very first scene with Mydei, there's this one odd line. It's a tiny thing, but nothing in a character's first appearance is accidental, so...

Mydei starts griping, telling Phainon that the people of Castrum Kremnos as a whole will not accept him. Presumably he actually means this in a general sense, aka "The Kremnoans won't accept any other hero; Kremnos won't become allies with anyone."

However, something I haven't seen many people note is that Mydei's very next line is:

"As the successor of Kremnos, I am not able to act independently on such matters."

This is a weird statement, right?

Saying "I am not able to act independently" basically implies that there is a desire to choose differently than his people. It's not "I would never act differently than my people demand." It's not even "I don't want to act independently"--it's "I am not able to." Wording the statement this way actively suggests that Mydei has a different stance than Kremnos itself--that if he had the power to act independently, he might make a different determination than his people expect.

Or, in more direct words: He would accept Phainon if he had the choice.

The dev team is very careful about the first impression that characters make in their debut appearances in the game. Choosing to deliberately reveal to us that Mydei has a different opinion of Phainon than the rest of the Kremnoans might is a strong signal for Mydei's characterization--deep down, he is very different from other Kremnoans--but, even more importantly, it tells us instantly that Mydei thinks more highly of Phainon than other people from Kremnos do. (Even if he also thinks Phainon is a mannerless heathen who lacks hospitality lol.)

Okay, okay, but that's just one little line. There's another thing I wanted to point out too, and that's actually Miss Castorice...

I've seen a lot of people suggesting Mydei/Castorice, Phainon/Castorice, and even Mydei/Castorice/Phainon, but for all the fandom's shipping (and everyone should feel free to ship what they love; your ship is valid, fam!), I actually kind of think that...

Castorice is a bit of a Mydei/Phainon shipper herself.

Although Castorice is of course just a good person who is doing what she can to help Okhema, she also is quick to assist Phainon specifically to save Mydei, quick to try to keep Phainon calm because that's what will help him get to Mydei quicker, and she just brings Mydei up out of the blue to Phainon several times throughout the story.

It's Castorice who halts Phainon's ascension ceremony to ask where Mydei is, because she expected him to be there for Phainon.

It seems to be a given for Castorice that if Phainon needs him, in Phainon's most important hour, Mydei should obviously be with him. She knew Mydei would come.

Even before that, when Phainon was feeling down, Castorice admits she doesn't know how to comfort Phainon herself, and instead... brings up Mydei to comfort Phainon???

Girl thought Quick, how can I raise Phainon's self-esteem? and Mydei's nickname for Phainon was the first thing that seems to have come to mind. 😂

She really said "You're not lame, Phainon; Mydei thinks you're a hero!"

Okay, being more serious--even putting shipping aside entirely, it's just overall clear that Castorice perceives the close comradeship between Phainon and Mydei (probably moreso than Phainon himself) and understands how important having that close friendship is to Phainon, who seems to have nothing else left outside of the Chrysos Heirs at all.

She seems to be able to tell how much Phainon needs people in his life who believe in and can stand beside him, and seems to have clocked that Mydei is definitely one such person. The game tells us players clearly that Castorice is an incredibly perceptive person who is sensitive to the feelings of others, and part of that includes her continuing to verbally recognize, throughout 3.0, the support Phainon gains from his close connection to Mydei.

I think this is just another cool touch--but also maybe another subtle nod from the devs. Castorice won't even let Phainon have a single scene where Mydei isn't mentioned lol.

And finally, one last crumb based on a pet theory...

"As I've Written"

We don't yet know who is responsible for actually writing the character profiles in the "As I've Written" book--although the rewards section is called "Author's Recompense" and the player get rewards for "composing sagas," alongside the interact button being "Write Story," there's actually an entire achievement teasing the fact that the Trailblazer doesn't know who actually wrote the book:

It's not remotely written in a style the Trailblazer would write in, and it also contains information the Trailblazer (at least currently) has no way of knowing at all, like the details of Castorice's backstory.

At this point, the real author could be anyone. But I feel like there's a few things pointing in favor of the idea that the real author might be Phainon. It could also be Anaxa or Cyrene or even Mem too, but hear me out...

First, the book's design is reminiscent of Phainon: the book features prominent sun/moon symbols, has the same blue-white-gold color palette, and even the design at the bottom of the book resembles the design along the front of Phainon's coat:

The book also seems to be strongly foreshadowing that someone is going to lose their way, step onto a dark path, or end up making a terrible mistake.

In Tribbie's chapter:

In Aglaea's:

And of course in Phainon's chapter, where the foreshadowing is strongest:

If this "one who has lost their direction" and "lost themself," the "flawed hero," are all references to Phainon, then the book over and over again seems to be--for the player--foreshadowing Phainon's downfall. Or, from the other perspective: This is a record written by someone who has witnessed (or experienced) the downfall and knows what is coming.

There's also the fact that while Phainon's chapter is written in third person, the narrator occasionally slips in some hints that they know what's going on in Phainon's mind:

And there's also this moment from Mydei's chapter:

We already know that this is not how Mydei behaves around people he doesn't know. When Mydei isn't familiar with a person, he doesn't banter with them--he doesn't even bother with them. He barely speaks directly to the Trailblazer the entire 3.0 plot, for example! He doesn't remotely seem like the type of person to sit down at a table and drink with someone he doesn't know.

We also know that he's already scolded Phainon several times for trying to act like an expert in Kremnoan legends:

(Thank Streetwise Rhapsody from Youtube for these screencaps because I forgot to screencap it myself lol.)

And the icing on the cake:

The exact phrase "amateur historian" again.

To me, this all but confirms that the "true" author of the "As I've Written" chronicle is probably Phainon, which finally brings me to the actual Phaidei crumb I wanted to discuss all along:

Mydei's story is listed as chapter 10 of the book. Yet for some reason --even though we get the book only after completing nearly the entire 3.0 questline, when the player has definitely met Aglaea, Castorice, and Tribbie already--Mydei's story comes first.

While Castorice, Tribbie, Phainon, and Aglaea all share the same memory crystal, Mydei has his own separate memory crystal, not shared with any other character, and it is given to the player first, before anyone else:

Phainon really said "My man is more important than the rest of us combined."

Tribbie is chapter 1. Phainon is chapter 7. Aglaea is chapter 9. But for some reason, we jumped all three of those characters to present chapter 10 first. Theoretically you could say that it's because we went to Castrum Kremnos and fought Nikador? But, story-wise, was Mydei the most important? The Trailblazer met Phainon and Tribbie first, got to actually play Aglaea for a sequence of this story, and traveled alone with Castorice. Mydei is the character the Trailblazer actually had the least connection to in the whole 3.0 storyline, so it doesn't seem that the story is truly what determined the order characters' chapters were given to us.

At the end of the day, in a book that seems it could be written by Phainon (from the future? the past?), Mydei was given special treatment and came before anyone else.

I'm just sayin'... the devs don't do things on accident.

[thetardisisnotourdivision]

Ok we have another one to add to the list!!!!!!

So I've seen a lot of people arguing about the whole "but Marinette made the decision for him!" thing in Werepapas, and honestly I think it's another Lady Macbeth/Baby It's Cold Outside scenario.

So the argument here, if you don't know it, is whether Lady Macbeth pressured Macbeth into killing the King, or whether she saw that it was what he wanted to do, and encouraged him because his conscience was getting in the way of something he clearly wanted to do. I can't be arsed to explain Baby It's Cold Outside but you get the gist.

So, the argument here is - Adrien still doesn't get to make his own decision. But did Marinette make the decision for him, or did she encourage him towards the decision he was always going to make? To me, the part where Adrien said he didn't know what he wanted was VERY in character. It read very much as him not wanting to offend anyone or cause another fight (like the one they literally JUST went through). But, really, was he ever going to make a different decision? He was choosing between Nathalie, who from the flashbacks and *gestures* the Rest Of The Series clearly cares about him, he knows her well, she loves him. Or a couple of strangers he just met that day. Adrien clearly, throughout the episode, expresses that he wants to stay in Paris, with Nathalie, and he is repeatedly ignored. To me, this moment is not Marinette making the decision for him - it's her standing up for him and saying to him that he can speak his mind. Remember, Adrien's spent his whole life under his father's thumb. He never could say what he wanted for fear of retaliation.

There IS a theme of other people making decisions for Adrien, obviously with the grandparents, but also with Nathalie herself. I will defend her until the ends of the Earth, but she did decide on her own that Adrien would be better off with biological family - granted, there's CLEARLY something influencing this feeling, plus the grandparents talking about how she's not family and has no right to look after Adrien, I wouldn't be surprised if there's some kind of backstory there - but once again, even though she thinks it's for the best, and the best thing for Adrien even if it hurts her (which it clearly does), she's still making a decision for Adrien. She's blinded by the fact that she's obviously at some point been told that she's not his family and never will be (the guilt from being Mayura and aiding and abetting his father is probably coming into play too) and so she makes a decision that ultimately, Adrien should have had a say in. And Marinette, like she did in the Special, puts her foot down and says, actually, you are his family, or the closest thing left, so listen to him when he says you are. I also found it very funny when Marinette literally tells Nathalie "you're an adult", and follows it up with basically "so do something about this". But you get my gist - ALL of the characters are making decisions for Adrien, and Marinette SEES this, and encourages Adrien to make the decision HE wants, and not the one that will please his grandparents.

[greengoblinswifey]

since luigi is a vegetarian can u write a fluff about how it’s like living with carnivore reader that loves meat and seafood like crazy? i love ur writings sm this is my first time ever requesting to anyone hope you can deliver. love ya🎀🎀💕💕💕

a/n— I love this and thank you, enjoy <3 P.S, y’all should try oxtail at your local Jamaican restaurant, it’s too good.

Living with your boyfriend meant a lot of things, early mornings, the scent of fresh coffee, and hearing him mumble in Italian when he was focused on his studies. But one thing that became clear almost immediately was the difference in your diets.

Luigi was a dedicated vegetarian. You, on the other hand absolutely loved meat and seafood. It was a huge part of your culture, something you grew up with, and something you weren’t about to give up.

The first time he saw your fully loaded plate of ribs, wings, and shrimp, his eyes widened slightly.

“That is a lot of protein, amore.”

“It’s a lifestyle,” you grinned.

He exhaled, shaking his head with a smile. “I don't know how you eat all that.”

“You don't know what you're missing,” you teased, holding up a piece of shrimp. “Wanna try?”

“Absolutely not.”

You laughed, cutting into your food as he watched in mild fascination. “I respect it,” he admitted. “It’s just funny to me that we live together and eat completely opposite things.”

Despite your differences, Luigi never judged you. If anything, he was incredibly accommodating. When you cooked meals together, he made sure there were vegetarian options for himself while still helping you season your meats just right.

“Okay, so you add this jerk seasoning?” he asked, watching as you marinated chicken.

“Yeah, it gives so much flavor. I love it.”

He nodded, focused. “I feel like I'm betraying my ancestors.”

“They'll forgive you,” you snorted.

Mealtime was always an experience. You’d tease him about his salads, and he’d raise a brow at the sheer amount of steak on your plate. Sometimes, he’d dramatically clutch his chest when you brought home seafood boils, acting as if the smell alone would make him collapse.

Yet, he never complained. Instead, he’d sit beside you, sharing stories about his favorite vegetarian meals while you devoured your ribs with a satisfied hum.

One evening, he came home to you stirring a pot, the rich scent of seasoning filling the air. “What's that?” he asked cautiously.

“A vegetarian dish I looked up,” you admitted, shooting him a smirk. “Surprise.”

His eyes lit up. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, I figured it’s only fair I try your world since you tolerate mine.”

His smile softened as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You're the best, you know that?”

“I know,” you grinned.

Despite your differences, it worked. Because at the end of the day, love, like food, was all about balance.

One evening after devouring your plate of oxtail, you leaned back with a satisfied sigh, licking your lips. Luigi, sitting across from you, tilted his head, watching you with amused curiosity.

“What was that?” he asked, nodding toward your empty plate.

“Oxtail,” you said, wiping your mouth with a napkin.

“Huh. Never had it, obviously, but you looked like you were in heaven,” he said.

“You have no idea,” you hummed, stretching before getting up.

Luigi stood too, stepping closer, hands resting on your waist as he leaned in. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and before you could react, he was already tilting his head to kiss you.

You pulled back slightly, laughing. “Wait, wait—you sure you wanna do that? I just ate meat.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “I don’t care, amore. I want my kiss.”

You snorted, gently pushing against his chest. “Lu, I respect you being a vegetarian. Let me at least brush my teeth first.”

“You don’t have to do all that,” he said, lips forming a pout.

“It’s fine,” you reassured, patting his cheek playfully. “Give me two minutes.”

With a dramatic sigh, he let you go, crossing his arms as he watched you disappear into the bathroom. When you came back, minty fresh, he immediately grabbed your waist and pulled you in, kissing you deeply. His hands slid up to your ass as you melted into him, the kiss turning slow and sweet.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, smiling.

“I love my carnivore girlfriend.”

“And I love my vegetarian boyfriend,” you smiled.

He kissed you again, laughing softly. “I guess opposites really do attract.”

[lsunstreakerl]

congrats on ur test!!!! would LOVE to hear ur thoughts on a/b/o or the maxussy!!

thank you!! time to study for the next one!

...yeah uh. 1.2k words. semi-explicit, mature content

Being off suppressants is fucking annoying. Max doesn't care that his dose was "an ethical violation" or that he's "lucky it didn't get worse", or any of the other things doctors keep telling him- he was perfectly content with where he was at.

Sure, his nose didn't work great, and he had difficulties picking out the subtle notes in scents, and now the entire world thinks he's an asshole- thank god for being Dutch- and maybe it should have bothered him that he can't make a real nest, but.

All of that was fine. Max was okay with it- didn't want to be an omega, didn't want anything to do with it. The pills had been fine, until he got stuck for a few extra days in Bahrain and ran out.

And then he'd had a heat crisis in the airport, and it hadn't even been about getting fucked, he'd just-

It's pathetic. Max doesn't want to think about it. He's still not sure he can look his team in the eyes, not after forcing them to stay in his terrible makeshift nest, crying out whenever one of them tried to leave, burying his nose against their scent glands and gripping GP's jacket so hard he's pretty sure he put holes in it.

Christian had made him see the team doctor after that.

Apparently, omegas without any kind of solid pack or mating bond are more susceptible to heat crisis. Since Max obviously doesn't have an alpha, his instincts had latched onto the team instead. It's humiliating.

The team doctor had asked if he was involved in the drivers pack at all, and Max had recoiled so hard he'd almost hit his head on the wall.

No, no he's not. Lewis is the pack alpha, and Seb is the pack omega, and neither of them like Max very much, so it's a bit of a no brainer. The suppressants made everyone think he was just a particularly aggressive beta anyways, so-

Max has not ever been a part of the drivers pack. He's not even been in the pack room.

So, no drivers pack. No garage pack either, bad Max, that's not how garage dynamics are supposed to work. No alpha, no pack at all, and Max is on a complete suppressant cleanse, which is all to say-

Everything smells like a lot, and he's got three fingers inside of himself and still can't get off. It's infuriating.

He's got a "cresting-heat" or some shit- he didn't read the pamphlet. It comes and goes in waves, and right now he's definitely on a wave, panting into his sheets as he fruitlessly tries to find the right angle.

He's doing it more to meet a need than because he wants to, which has been driving him nuts. Being off the suppressants has made him hornier than he's ever been in his life, but he can't think of any good fantasies, and he'll die before he orders a fucking toy for it.

Max groans and rolls onto his side, tries to find a different angle, but nothings working. He keeps burying his face in different spots on the bed, where he's put together a genuinely awful nest, but there's not a strong enough scent to satisfy the instinct in his head. It's all snagged caps and stolen mechanics gloves, team jackets left unattended on chairs for slightly too long.

It's none of what Max really wants- hoodies and shirts. He has-

Wait.

Max rolls onto his back, and braces himself as he slides his fingers out, but it doesn't prevent the mournful noise he makes at the sensation.

This sucks.

He wipes his hand off before sliding out of the nest, letting his nose lead him more than anything, which is still weird.

There's a sweatshirt tossed over the back of his couch from a few months ago, when Daniel was last over.

Daniel had come straight from the pack room.

Hopefully, if Max is lucky-

He brings it to his nose, and they're stale, but they're there.

This will have to work.

He brings it back to the nest, tossing it down and immediately burying his face in it.

It smells like Daniel, and also like some of the other pack members, scents that Max doesn't quite recognize.

He shifts his head slightly, because there's something-

The scent he catches hits a switch in his brain.

Max isn't entirely sure what happened, other than he smells it and suddenly he gets it. He's gone liquid soft in the bed, muscles relaxed, there's a frankly humiliating amount of wetness between his thighs that was't there a moment ago, and he's really rethinking that decision not to buy a toy.

Fuck that smells nice.

Someone's moaning like a fucking whore, and Max buries his face further, he can never go into the pack room now- if he finds out which alpha this scent belongs to he's going to jump them.

God, but maybe they'd let him, maybe that alpha would be so sweet, would let Max climb them like a tree and ride them to tears, and maybe they'd even let Max snuggle up to them afterwards, maybe they'd be just the right amount of mean, tell Max if he wants it so bad he'll have to work for it, and maybe-

Max curls his fingers and drops his head back, and oh, it's him- he's the one moaning, fingers working inside him just right, and he takes another deep inhale, trying to imagine the different alphas in the pack-

It's not Daniel, even though his deep wood scent permeates through, adding a level of comfort, like he's watching over Max even now, heat soaked and desperate.

Fuck, maybe it's Carlos, and he'd be so nice, large hands wrapping around Max, and he'd be just right, put Max on his knees, maybe he'd tell him he's being good-

His head drops back with a keen, and everything is so much.

Maybe it's Lewis, and the thought of an alpha, the pack alpha, finally approving of Max, taking care of him like the others- he'd be responsible about it, coax Max open on his fingers, let Max hide his face while he fucked him-

Fuck, Max has never felt like this before, like he's climbing higher and higher, no end in sight.

Maybe- he works his fingers again, a pathetic noise falling from his mouth, and he knows it's bad, knows he shouldn't, knows he's going to regret it later-

Maybe it's Charles.

Max comes with a cry, legs shaking as his hips twist up from the bed, because he wants- he wants more than anything, like some terrible movie omega, knot-dumb and stupid, panting after an alpha who doesn't want him, but the thought of it-

He collapses back, chest heaving. For a moment, things are hazy and easy, nose buried in Daniel's sweatshirt, hips weakly grinding into the mattress through the aftershocks.

He takes a steadying breath, easing his fingers out with a wince. The wave is gone, and now he just feels sticky and disgusting and alone.

Max sighs. He needs to shower, change out his sheets, send Daniel's sweatshirt to the dry cleaners, and then he's going to order takeout and wallow in shame about using his coworkers to get off.

Being off suppressants sucks.

[petersasteria]

Hey, It's Been A While - G Dragon/Kwon Ji Yong

Pairing: GD x Reader Summary: long time partners that don't have the same goal

A/N: i just want to say that it's been a while since I've written a fic and this is my first time writing for GD sksksks I've been wanting to write for a while now and I just want to thank @ldydeath @thanosscross @loveesiren @welcometoyunosworld @dollzites @natalicss for inspiring me to write again <3

He was your whole world. You were his. Everything seemed right until it wasn't.

A year into your relationship, everything was still phenomenal. It was like the honeymoon phase never ended. He treated you right and he did right by you. You pampered him when he was tired and he always sent you updates when he was at work. He even started sending you food, knowing that you always forgot to eat on time.

God, you were in love with this man. After your first year together, you knew he was the one. You knew in your heart that nobody could replace him and you hope that he felt that too.

Years go by and suddenly, you've been dating for 9 years. Everyone was pestering you to get married already, but Ji-yong never asked... not yet. Your relationship with him was never rocky and despite multiple breakup rumors, it remained stronger than ever. It stood the test of time and Ji-yong liked to prove people wrong all the time. He brought you to events all the time and he would be the one to send you those shitty rumors first before anyone else would, just so the two of you could make fun of it.

God, he was in love with you. He loved every single moment he shared with you. It was weird because he figured that he was the only man in the world who falls in love with you even more when you're angry. He absolutely loved you when you were angry because he loved seeing your real emotions toward things that angered you. He loved supporting you when you got angry. If you were cussing someone out during a rant, he'd do the same thing because he knew that you'd look at him, laugh, and forget what you were even angry about which annoyed you a lot, but he knew you were thankful. Your first year together was the best year he ever had. He wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Years go by and he's still so madly and sickeningly in love with you. He would never want to hurt your feelings that's why when rumors started going around about your breakup, he'd make sure to send it to you first attached with a cruel joke that only you two would understand. He'd smile to himself when you give it a 'haha' react and reply with another joke. It'd be enough to put him in a good mood.

Lately, he's starting to notice something different about you. You were a little bit sad, but he didn't know what to do and it scared him because he'd usually know what to do and what to say. He could read your expressions so well and it killed him that he couldn't read it now. For the first time in 9 years, he couldn't understand what was wrong.

To remedy the situation, he took you out on a date in a very expensive restaurant. He didn't care how much he'd spend. He just wanted to see you happy and to know if something's wrong. He wanted to make you feel better.

Obviously, that action didn't register the same way to you. He wanted to talk to you and ask what's going on, and you thought he was proposing. Of course, none of you knew what the other was thinking during the time both of you were getting ready in the same room. He glanced at you as he put his cufflinks on and smiled when he saw you smiling to yourself. 'My girl's back.' He thought. You looked up at him as you smoothed out your dress and smiled, "Ready to go?"

The whole ride going to the restaurant was quiet. It was a comfortable kind of quiet. The soft music filling the car and the reflection of the lights coming from the street lamps and shops illuminated your faces perfectly. He wanted to take multiple pictures of you then and there to make it his new lockscreen, but he didn't want both of you to get injured because he was too busy driving. Despite having a lot of money, he didn't feel the need to hire a driver because he thinks that going on drives with you is intimate no matter where you go.

You arrived at the restaurant and got seated at the best table with the best view. You scanned the menu, ordered your food, and smiled at each other. "Um, it's been a while since we went on a proper date. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love staying in, but I just feel like dressing up with you and going to a fancy place for a change. If that's alright?" He asked, anxious for your reply. He didn't know why he was anxious around you. He guessed that maybe he didn't want to upset you by saying the wrong thing.

"That's perfectly fine, Ji." You smiled shyly, thinking he's nervous about his proposal. "I'll go wherever you go. We've been together for so long, I can't even remember what it's like to function without you."

Both of you laughed and agreed. You started talking about your job and how you're eyeing for that big promotion because the pay is better and the office is bigger. He just kept listening and laughing and only talking when he was curious about one topic or if he had any opinions or views about something you said. At one point, he couldn't help himself because of how your face was perfectly illuminated by the light coming from the restaurant's warm, dim lights. He asked for you to pose as he took multiple pictures. Some of it were candid shots of you asking him to stop because it was taking too long. Despite all the magazine-worthy photos he took of you, he chose the most candid one as his lockscreen because it took him back to when you first met.

"I'm really glad that you're smiling again, Y/N." He said as he toyed a little bit with his dessert's toppings using his dessert spoon. Your head tilted a little bit to the side as you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. What was he talking about?

He looked at you and said, "Oh, I mean it's nothing bad... I hope. Um, recently, I noticed that you were sad and you had this expression I couldn't read and I panicked because I didn't know how to fix it and you've never been so closed off like that with me. Now that you're smiling and laughing, it makes me feel better that you're feeling better." He breathed and smiled a big smile, "I'm really glad you're feeling better. You can tell me if I've done anything to upset you, you know that right?"

You nodded your head and said, "You did nothing wrong, actually. I guess I was just a bit sad because of what people are saying about us... or about me."

His eyes went dark and said, "What?" He wasn't aware that people were saying stuff about the two of you or about you, specifically. It angered him that people were trying to breakup the one relationship he cherished the most. He felt betrayed and backstabbed. You nodded and said, "They said that you didn't really love me and that I'm just a placeholder for when you meet your true love."

He was so hurt that you said that so casually. "Anyway, I don't believe it anymore because it's ridiculous! Especially now that it's happening." You said giddily. He chuckled in confusion and shook his head slightly, "I'm sorry, what's happening?"

"You know..." You said in excitement. "No, I don't know actually." He said with genuine confusion.

"Oh. Is this not what I thought it was?" You asked in a small voice, feeling absolutely mortified and embarrassed.

"What are you on about, my love?" He asked. He didn't understand. He didn't have a clue at all.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and said, "Let's just go home."

As soon as you got home, you marched straight to your shared room with Ji-yong quickly following behind. "Hey, what's going on? Please tell me. You know that I don't like to be kept in the dark about things that concern our relationship."

You looked at him as you took off your shoes and earrings. "Fine. We've been together for 9 years and you still haven't proposed. Why?"

He chuckled, "Is that it? Is that why you're so upset? I can answer that right now."

"Okay. Please enlighten me."

"I don't believe in marriage and starting a family, Y/N." He said coolly. "I thought it was obvious? I mean, we have a great relationship going on and I absolutely adore you and everyone knows that. I just don't feel the need to put it on a piece of paper. You're the only woman in my life and I'm the only man in your life and it's always been that way. Everybody knows that."

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. "What?" was all you said. He shrugged and sat down on your shared bed, "Yeah. I thought you knew? I'm sorry if I didn't tell you. I genuinely thought you knew this whole time." You shook your head and started crying.

You sat down on the bed next to him and started crying. He pulled you in for a hug, but you pushed him away. He was hurt that you did that because you never pushed him away before. "What's wrong?" He asked, rubbing your back and pushing your hair away from your face.

You looked up at him and said, "I don't think I can go on this way."

"What do you mean?" He panicked. Is this it? Is your relationship ending after 9 beautiful years?

"We have different goals. I want to get married and have kids, Ji. I find it so selfish of you to not tell me and expect me to be okay with it now. If you told me that 9 years ago-"

"You would've left immediately, I know you would. Please don't leave me now. We're doing so great." He pleaded.

"Ji-yong, please-"

"Will you marry me?"

"What?" You looked at him like was crazy.

"You wanted to get married, right? I love you too much for you to walk away. Let's get married and have kids like what you've always dreamed of. How many kids do you want? We can move out of here and find a more quiet place for us to start a family and-"

"I don't want you to hate me."

"I could never hate you, Y/N. Don't be silly."

"Oh, but you would. You'd resent me for marrying me because you never wanted to get married. You'd resent our children because you never wanted to have children. We want different things in life and maybe we were just meant to meet, but not destined to be with each other."

"Y/N, I love you. Please marry me."

"You're just asking me that because you want me to stay, not because you want to marry me. Ji-yong, my love, it's okay. It'll take some time, but I hope you find someone who has the same goal as you."

Those were your last words to him before you parted ways. Your breakup was called the "breakup of the century" because it shocked everyone.

-

It's been 2 years since then and Ji-yong heard that you were getting married and that you were pregnant. He was truly happy for you because you got what you wanted, but it killed him to know that it's not him you're marrying and it's not him who's fathering your child. He was invited to the wedding and so are Daesung and Taeyang. They didn't want him to go because they knew it would hurt his feelings, but he assured them that he'll be fine. He moved on... a little bit.

He hoped to talk to you, though.

He wandered around aimlessly through the halls and hoped that by sheer luck, he finds your dressing room. He spots a group of bridesmaids and he switches on his charm and asks them if they were your bridesmaids. They said yes and he immediately asked where your dressing room was.

They led him there before leaving. He could hear you singing softly to yourself, indicating that you were alone. After all this time, he still knew you like the back of his hand. He smiled to himself and knocked on your door.

"Mom, please calm down. For the nth time, I don't need water!" You said through the door. He chuckled to himself before opening the door.

"Sorry to disappoint. I'm not your mom." He said softly. His gaze immediately falling on your beautiful face matched with your perfectly styled hair, then on your white wedding dress.

"Ji-yong."

"Y/N."

"You're here! Wow." You said in surprise. "Um, please sit." You motioned for him to sit on your couch and you sat down next to him.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." He smiled. His smile reached his eyes and you gave him a shy look. His compliments still gave you butterflies.

"Thank you. I'm glad you could make it."

"I'm sorry, Y/N." He said. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the man you needed me to be. Now that I look back, it really was shitty of me to tell you that I didn't want to get married and expect you to accept it. It was also shitty of me to propose to you just for you to stay, and you were right. I would've hated you and I don't want to hate you because I love you so much. In fact, I love you so much that I can't let you go."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know what I'm saying." He chuckled bitterly. "I want you to be happy with me, but I can't make you happy because I can't give you what you want. He makes you happy and I hate that. I don't want you to leave him because I would never want to breakup a family... that's not who I am."

"I just wish that I was different. I wish that I believed in marriage, so that you wouldn't marry that guy and have his child. I wish it was me you came home to. You'll always be the love of my life, Y/N. I screwed up, but I never lied to you. I've done a lot of shit in my life, but loving you and being with you is different. I meant what I said that day when I told you that you're the only woman in my life."

He pulled out his phone and showed you his lockscreen from that night at the restaurant. "See? I never changed it. I'll always love you and it'll stay that way until my last breath."

You stayed quiet. Why was he saying all this?

"I love you. I respect you. I already care about your kid and I haven't even met them. I guess what I'm saying is, something in my gut tells me that we're definitely destined to be together and in some fucked up way, I hope it's true."

"I'm confused." You told him.

"Get married, Y/N. Go. I'm not stopping you. I'm not a cruel person and I know how hard you've worked in planning all this. I know you so well, after all. I'm just saying that one day, I know you'll come back to me."

"What if you're wrong?" You asked. "I love my fiance."

"I know you do. Just not the same way you loved me. Our 9 years wasn't a joke. We're basically married at that point." He smirked. "You deserve a happy marriage, Y/N. I know you're happy."

He stood up and walked to the door. "I just have this terrible gut feeling about that man that I can't shake."

With that, he left the dressing room.

--------

A/N: I planned on smth very angsty, but I couldn't stop typing until it led me to that ending HAHAHAHA

[will80sbyers]

Obviously, part of his story is that Will needs to accept himself and be proud of being different, but the thing they focus on the most in his story is how deep, selfless, and beautiful his love for Mike is, and how sad he feels when he thinks he's losing Mike. The idea of losing Mike hurts him too much, and even the thought of just having to let go is painful. He says that if that had to happen, he wanted it to be like ripping off a bandaid, but the monologue was supposed to be that bandaid being ripped off, and it simply didn't work. He's still in love with him, and this will be addressed next season with the painting situation ✨

One of the things that makes me sure of Byler is that it's already clear to all of the viewers that absolutely no one in his family or friend group will hate Will for being gay. There's no doubt that Mike would accept him platonically because we have S1 where Mike beats up that kid for being homophobic to Will, and just knowing Mike's character he wouldn't be the type to be homophobic to his best friend, he would not give a fuck about that, ESPECIALLY if he was meant to be straight... so basically there is not really a decent story to tell there and Mike loving him too is the best story they can tell, the most surprising and happy and the most satisfying writing-wise

A story where Will confesses and is proud of himself but then gets immediately rejected by Mike is just such an ugly and underwhelming story to write, and it wouldn't make much sense to make so many explicit parallels to other love stories for byler and then focus this much on how beautiful Will's love for Mike is too if that didn't pay off at the end

This storyline would also help Mike's character arc, separating it from his fears around losing El to focus on a self discovery journey in general, we would see Mike gain more confidence in himself as a leader because of the type of love that Will has for him where he explicitly calls him the heart and inspiration of all of them!!!

Will's love for Mike gave him confidence VS. what we have seen happens to Mike when he's in a relationship with El... Eleven having superpowers and constantly choosing to leave him behind makes him feel like he's useless, he feels like he's not even Lois Lane in their dynamic now and her gaining independence growing up and not really needing him to be okay emotionally makes him feel insecure in himself... to the point he has resorted to pretending to be someone cooler than who he really is ( in s3 dismissing his love for D&D/games that are considered childish and in S4 arriving dressed as a "cool" surfer guy ) for the fear of her not wanting him anymore in her life in any way, clearly there's something not working out between them, love is not supposed to make you feel like that about yourself and it should be a natural and automatic thing that's coming directly from El resolving this problem, certainly not a 3rd person using his own feelings to fix their relationship.

This storyline would also tell a story of growth for both El and Mike at the same time, one where they let go of their first relationship that was based more on circumstance and fear of losing the other as a familiar person than actual intentional choices, and then they can show how you can still stay friends after.

I know this is the arc Melvins want for Will, but I believe it will be the other way around instead because... again, they focused too much on his love, making it too strong in the story to dismiss, and instead they showed how El was happy even without a relationship with Mike multiple times during the past seasons - they focused a lot on the relationships with her family and friends for her, it has always been what she needed the most and what she truly wanted 🌈

[aspenmissing]

Ik you already made a fic about asexuality, but could you make one about a hyper sexual s/o? Someone who’s honestly scared of asking for too much. Obviously this is during the beginning part of their relationship. (Can be with anyone in the Arcane universe, and doesn’t have to be too explicit). Thank you! 🫶

Ps. I love your work a lot!!

ɴᴏ ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ ||

8144 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇ!! ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜʜʜ ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴏᴏɴ! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ!! ɪ'ᴍ ɢʟᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ!! <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ

JAYCE

The laboratory was always where Jayce felt most at home, surrounded by his creations, his tools, and the hum of his latest invention. It was a sanctuary of thought and focus. But tonight, something was different. You, standing in the doorway, your figure framed by the soft light of the lamps, filled the cold space with a warmth he hadn’t realised he craved.

You stood there, hesitating, unsure of what to do. Jayce noticed how your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, how your eyes flickered nervously towards him but never met his gaze. It had been weeks since the two of you had started spending time together, but there was still something between you — an invisible barrier that neither of you had dared to cross. He could sense it, but the attraction between you was undeniable, stronger than ever.

"Everything alright?" Jayce asked, setting down his wrench and turning towards you, concern flickering across his brow.

You nodded, though your lips trembled slightly. "Yeah, just... been thinking."

"About what?"

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of hesitation crash over you. It wasn’t like you to be so unsure. Jayce had always made you feel safe, but tonight, there was an undeniable pull between you — one you weren’t sure how to handle. You wanted more. More than just the soft kisses, more than just the gentle caresses. But the thought of pushing him away with your desires, with your own need for more, terrified you.

Jayce’s voice broke through the silence, warm and reassuring. "Y/N, if something’s bothering you, you know you can tell me. You’ve never been shy about speaking your mind before."

You swallowed hard, taking a deep breath as your gaze fell to the floor. When you finally looked up, you spoke quietly. "I don’t want to ask for too much... I don’t want to overwhelm you."

Jayce’s expression softened instantly, a mixture of concern and tenderness in his eyes. He stepped closer to you, closing the gap with a slow, deliberate stride. His hand reached out, cupping your cheek gently, lifting your chin so you couldn’t look anywhere but at him. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with warmth and something more, something undeniably intimate. "You don’t have to be afraid to ask. You’re not overwhelming me. Not even close."

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sent a wave of warmth spreading through you, but the anxiety still gnawed at you. "But... what if it’s too much? What if you don’t want it?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

He smiled then, a soft, reassuring smile that made your stomach tighten with anticipation. "Trust me. If I didn’t want this, you’d know. But I want to give you everything you need — every part of me. And if there’s something more, something you want... I’ll be here. Always."

The words settled between you both like a promise, a vow. You took a small step forward, the space between you shrinking with each passing second, your breath coming quicker as you finally allowed yourself to voice the thoughts that had been swirling inside of you for weeks.

"Jayce," you breathed, voice trembling slightly as you closed the distance. "I want... I want to be close to you. In every way. I don’t want to hold back anymore."

Jayce’s breath hitched at your words, the warmth in his eyes deepening into something almost primal. Without another word, he closed the last of the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was nothing like the soft, tentative ones before. This one was heated, desperate, a release of all the pent-up desire that had been building between you both.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat of his body against yours. He deepened the kiss, his lips pressing with urgency, as though he’d been waiting for this moment. His tongue brushed against yours in a gentle but insistent invitation, a slow burn that made you feel every inch of his closeness.

You gasped, pulling back just slightly, your breath coming quick and uneven as you met his gaze. His eyes were darker now, filled with a hunger that made your stomach tighten with need. "Jayce," you whispered again, this time a little louder, more desperate. "I need you."

His hands slid down your sides, his fingers brushing along the curve of your hips, before he gently lifted you, pressing you against the nearest counter. Your pulse raced as his body caged you in, his hands tracing the line of your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip with the lightest touch. The contrast between his gentleness and the heat of his desire left you trembling.

"You have me," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough but soft. "Every part of me. And I want all of you, Y/N."

You looked up at him, your heart racing, the uncertainty now replaced by something stronger. "Then show me," you whispered, your voice thick with longing. "Show me how much you want me."

His breath hitched at your words, and without another thought, he pressed himself closer, the heat between you almost unbearable. His lips trailed down your neck, his kisses slow and deliberate, his hands roaming to the small of your back as he pulled you even closer. Every movement was purposeful, as if he wanted to memorise every inch of you, as if he was giving you a piece of himself with each touch.

You arched into him, your hands running through his hair as your body reacted to his touch. The tension, the longing, everything you had been holding back was coming to a head. Jayce’s hands slid under your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin, making you gasp at the fire he ignited in you. He paused, lifting his head to look at you once more, his eyes searching yours for permission, for confirmation that you were ready.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and strained with desire.

You nodded, your lips curling into a small, shy smile. "I’m sure."

With that, Jayce kissed you again, this time without hesitation, as though he couldn’t wait any longer. The world outside the laboratory disappeared, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other, exploring, pushing, and finally giving in to the pull that had been growing between you both for so long.

VIKTOR

The dim light in Viktor’s apartment felt soothing, warm, as the soft hum of the machines and whir of his mechanical devices filled the silence. His apartment, with its sleek, metallic edges and subtle elegance, was quiet and unassuming—a space where the two of you had grown closer over time. Yet tonight, there was an air of uncertainty between you both, as if your feelings had become too intense, too confusing.

Viktor was seated in his armchair, his cane resting beside him. He looked at you, his golden eyes soft yet intense, as though he was waiting for something you couldn’t quite name.

You shifted nervously, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. It wasn’t just the physical closeness that made you feel unsure—it was the way your emotions were starting to tangle together. There was an undeniable attraction, but you didn’t know how to voice the raw need that simmered beneath your skin. What if you were asking for too much? What if he didn't feel the same way?

Viktor noticed your hesitation. His sharp mind could see the conflict written across your face. He reached for his cane, lifting it slowly with a soft grunt, and guided it to rest across his lap. Then, his eyes softened even more as he leaned back.

"You seem... distracted, Y/N," Viktor remarked, his voice low and gentle.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the words. "It’s just... I’m not sure how to... ask," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Viktor raised an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “You don’t need to ask, you know. Not if it’s something you desire.”

You blushed, unsure if you could meet his gaze. The thought of pushing boundaries scared you, yet something about the way Viktor spoke gave you an odd sense of reassurance. He didn’t push; he didn’t rush. He let you come to him in your own time.

“I... I want more, Viktor,” you said quietly, hands trembling at your sides. "But I don't want to overwhelm you. I don’t want you to think I’m asking for too much. You’ve already done so much for me…”

Viktor’s gaze softened, and there was something in his expression that made your heart race. “Miláčku” he said, his tone firm but not unkind, “if it’s something you want, you don’t need to be afraid. Whatever it is, whatever you need, I will be here—just as you’ve been here for me.” (Darling)

His words, the genuine care in them, loosened the knot in your chest. It was strange, how this brilliant, calculating man could have such a steady, nurturing presence, one that made you feel safe, despite your own doubts.

You took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. “I’ve never really… known how to ask for what I want. I don’t want to seem like… like I’m taking too much,” you confessed, your voice catching.

Viktor smiled, leaning forward slightly, his eyes scanning your face with care. "You’re not asking for too much. Whatever you desire, let me show you how much I’m willing to give. You are more than enough, and I will always want more of you."

The words were a promise, a deep, unwavering vow, and they broke through the wall you’d built around your desires. You could feel your heartbeat thumping in your chest as you took another step forward, your hand reaching out towards him, trembling but determined.

=

He raised his hand, gently grasping yours, and pulled you onto his lap. The proximity felt electric, the air between you charged with a heat neither of you could ignore. Viktor’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as his lips found yours.

It was soft, tender, as if he was waiting for you to take the lead. And for the first time, you felt no hesitation, no fear of asking for what you wanted. You pulled him closer, the kiss deepening, as his hand trailed along your spine, steady and sure.

His touch was like a steady anchor, grounding you. His lips pressed against yours with increasing intensity, and you felt a rush of heat flood your body. Every part of you yearned for more. You had never felt this way before, never been this close to someone, but there was a comfort in Viktor’s touch that made you feel safe, cherished even.

As the kiss continued, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer. His fingers brushed the skin of your back, sending a shiver through you. His lips moved to your neck, the soft caress of his breath against your skin making your pulse quicken. You closed your eyes, lost in the feeling, feeling as though time itself had stopped.

He gently tilted your head back, allowing him access to the delicate skin along your throat. His lips were light at first, then more insistent, as though he was waiting for you to make the next move, to tell him what you wanted. His words from earlier echoed in your mind: Whatever you need, I will be here.

You weren’t sure when the words slipped out, but they did. “I want you, Viktor,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I don’t know how to ask… but I want you.”

There was a pause, a moment of stillness, before Viktor lifted his head and met your gaze. His expression was unreadable for a moment, but then his lips curled into a gentle smile. "You have me, miláčku," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Completely."

And that was enough.

Viktor’s hands slid under your shirt, his touch warm and deliberate. The air between you grew heavier, as though the tension in the room could no longer be contained. His lips trailed down to your collarbone, his tongue tracing soft, heated lines against your skin. You gasped softly, every touch igniting a fire within you, but still, you hesitated. This was new—vulnerable—and you weren’t sure if you were ready for it all.

But Viktor didn’t rush you. His fingers paused when they reached the waistband of your trousers, giving you a moment to breathe. His eyes, full of compassion and understanding, met yours, and in that moment, you realised that your fear was nothing compared to the trust you felt in him.

“You control this, Y/N,” Viktor said, his voice quiet yet firm, his hand resting on the small of your back. “When you’re ready, I will follow your lead.”

It was a small thing, a reassurance—but in that moment, it was all you needed. The weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, and you knew, without a doubt, that Viktor would never make you do something you weren’t ready for.

You leaned in and kissed him again, with more urgency this time. The kiss deepened, and Viktor responded in kind, his hands exploring your body with careful intention. The heat between you was overwhelming, but there was no rush. Everything in its own time.

The evening stretched on, slow and languid, as you both explored each other—not just physically, but emotionally too. It was about trust, about desire, and understanding that, with Viktor, you were free to be everything you were, without hesitation.

JAYVIK

The lab was quiet, the hum of machinery and the soft ticking of the clock filling the room as Y/N sat between him and Jayce on the couch. The soft light from the lamps reflected off the brass and metal details that decorated the room, casting a warm glow over the three of them. The air was thick with unspoken tension, the kind that could only exist when three people were on the verge of something new—something delicate, something that required trust, honesty, and vulnerability.

Y/N shifted nervously, her fingers curling and uncurling around the fabric of her sleeves, the motion almost automatic as she tried to calm the storm of thoughts running through her head. She had been with both Viktor and Jayce separately before, but this was the first time they were all together like this, and the air between them felt charged in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Her body ached with an unfamiliar longing, but it wasn’t just physical. It was more than that. It was a need for connection, for closeness—but she wasn’t sure how to ask for it.

Jayce noticed her fidgeting immediately, his eyes softening with concern. He leaned forward, the muscles of his arms shifting as he placed his hand gently on her knee. “You alright, love?” he asked, his voice warm but steady, the kind of voice that made her feel like everything was going to be okay, even if she didn’t know how to say what was on her mind.

“Yeah,” she muttered, her gaze dropping to her hands in her lap, the words feeling far too small to convey what she was feeling. The knot in her chest grew tighter, the confusion of her emotions almost too much to bear. She felt... hypersexual. A term she had always been a bit reluctant to acknowledge, because it made her feel as though there was something wrong with her. But she couldn’t ignore the need that coursed through her, the desire that seemed to linger in every touch, every glance. It was more than just physical—it was emotional, a craving for attention, for affection, for connection. And she didn’t know how to ask for any of it.

Viktor, ever the keen observer, watched her with that familiar intensity, his usual calm and analytical expression softening as he sensed the turmoil beneath her exterior. “It’s okay if you don’t have the words right now,” he said gently, his voice quieter than usual, carrying an unspoken promise. “We’re here to listen. Whenever you’re ready.”

She swallowed hard, the warmth in his tone offering a sense of reassurance that she hadn’t known she needed. Viktor had always been the more reserved one between the two, but there was a tenderness in his approach now that made her feel safe—made her feel understood, even without words.

“It’s just... I don’t know how to say it,” Y/N confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, the admission leaving her chest hollow. “I feel... like I need more. I’m always craving more—more touch, more attention. But I don’t know how to ask for it. I don’t know how to explain it without feeling like I’m too much.”

Jayce’s expression softened further, his hand shifting to her shoulder, a comforting presence. “You’re never too much for us, Y/N,” he said, his voice deep and reassuring. “What you need is important. It’s not about feeling too much—it’s about us finding a way to meet those needs together. You don’t have to hide anything from us.”

Y/N could feel the warmth of their understanding, but there was still a tightness in her chest that wouldn’t go away. The fear of rejection, of asking for something she wasn’t sure they were ready to give, lingered in the back of her mind. “I... I know I can be a bit much sometimes. I feel so needy. But it’s not something I know how to control. I just... want to feel wanted, I think. I want to feel like I’m enough for both of you.”

Viktor’s expression softened, his brow furrowing slightly with empathy as he processed her words. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting more,” he said, his voice rich with understanding. “Desire is a natural part of who we are, and it can be... overwhelming at times, especially when you don’t know how to express it. But the key is not to suppress it. To be open about it.”

Jayce gave a slow nod. “Exactly. You don’t need to hide any part of who you are. If you feel like you need more attention, more affection, we can give you that. We just need to know what that looks like for you, Y/N.”

Y/N swallowed hard, the words suddenly feeling much more real than she’d expected them to. She’d always been afraid of pushing people away by being too demanding, too open about her desires, especially in a relationship that involved more than one person. But Viktor and Jayce weren’t pulling away—they were only drawing closer.

“I’m scared that I’ll ask for too much,” she admitted softly, looking down at her hands, twisting the fabric of her sleeves nervously. “I feel like if I say it out loud, it’ll be too much. I want to feel wanted, but I don’t know how to... how to make you understand. Sometimes, I just need more touch, more connection, but it’s hard for me to... to ask for it. To say what I want.”

Jayce reached out, his hand cupping her chin gently to lift her gaze back to him. His touch was warm and grounding, and the intensity in his eyes made her feel like he saw her. Really saw her. “You don’t have to feel ashamed of what you want, Y/N. We’re here, we’re listening. What you need is important, and we want to be the ones to help you get it. You don’t have to be afraid of asking, of needing us. It’s okay.”

Viktor’s voice was softer than usual, almost as if he were speaking to himself as much as to her. “The difficulty is not in wanting more, but in fearing that it will drive us away. You don’t need to hide anything from us. If you want touch, affection, more... attention, then we can explore that. We will go at your pace, as long as we are all clear and respectful of each other’s needs.”

The weight of their words settled in her chest, the knot finally beginning to loosen as she realised that the very thing she feared—being too much—was the thing they both welcomed with open arms. She wasn’t a burden. Her desires weren’t something to be ashamed of.

“I... I need you both,” she confessed, her voice thick with emotion. “I need to feel wanted, to feel seen. I need you to touch me, to show me that I’m not too much.” Her breath hitched as she said the words aloud, feeling both vulnerable and liberated in the same breath.

Jayce smiled warmly, the kind of smile that made her feel like she was truly understood. He brushed a lock of hair from her face and leaned in close, his voice low and sincere. “You’re not too much, Y/N. We want to make you feel complete. And we’ll take the time to learn how.”

Viktor nodded, his hand resting on her shoulder now, grounding her in his presence. “We’ll do this together, step by step. We will learn what you need and make sure we give it to you. There’s no rush. There’s no shame.”

Y/N felt something shift inside her, a sense of relief flooding her as she realised that asking for what she needed wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t something to be feared or hidden. It was a part of her, and they wanted to understand it, to embrace it. And maybe, just maybe, she could finally allow herself to be seen.

VANDER

The candlelight flickered softly, casting a warm glow across the room, but the shadows seemed to grow longer in the silence between them. Y/N sat on the edge of the couch, her fingers nervously twisting in her lap. The room felt like it was closing in around her as she tried to gather the courage to say what had been weighing on her for weeks.

Vander sat across from her, his usual calm and imposing presence somehow softened tonight. His broad frame was relaxed, but there was a subtle tension in the way his eyes lingered on her, waiting for her to speak.

"You're awfully quiet tonight," he said gently, his voice low and warm. "Is something on your mind, love?"

Y/N looked at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to tell him everything — about the way her body reacted to him, how every brush of his hand made her ache with longing. She wanted to be open with him, but the words were caught in her throat. The thought of sharing something so personal, so vulnerable, filled her with dread. What if he didn’t understand? What if he didn’t want her the way she needed to be wanted?

"I..." She swallowed hard, biting her lip as she looked down at her hands, trying to steady her breathing. "I don’t know how to say this."

Vander's brow furrowed with concern, and he leaned forward, his large hands resting on his knees. "Hey," he said, his tone soft, "whatever it is, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me. I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right?"

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded, her fingers still twitching in her lap. She had to say it. She had to. But how? How could she explain something so... raw?

"You’ve been patient with me," she started slowly, her voice barely above a whisper, "and I don’t know if you’ll understand, but... I feel like I need to be honest with you. About who I am."

Vander’s gaze softened, his eyes full of quiet understanding. "You don’t have to explain yourself, love. But if it helps, I’m listening."

She hesitated, biting her lip harder as the words tumbled out, her voice shaking slightly. "I... I’m hypersexual, Vander."

Vander blinked, his expression unreadable for a moment, and Y/N’s heart sank. She had said it, but now that it was out there, she was terrified of how he might react.

"I mean..." She stumbled over her words, trying to clarify. "I don’t just want you, I need you. All the time. It’s not just physical. It’s... it’s more than that. And sometimes it’s overwhelming."

The silence stretched between them, her chest tight with anxiety as she waited for him to say something. Anything.

Vander didn’t speak immediately, but instead, he moved closer, his hand gently brushing against her arm, grounding her in the moment. "You don’t have to be ashamed of that," he said quietly, his voice steady. "Everyone has their own needs, love. But if this is something you’re struggling with, I want to help you with it. We can figure it out together."

Y/N felt a surge of relief, but also something else—something deeper. She had feared that her desires, the way her body constantly craved more, would push him away. But Vander... Vander didn’t pull back. He was here, and his words were like a balm to the rawness inside her.

"I don’t know how to ask for it," she admitted, her voice breaking slightly. "It’s like, I feel this fire inside me, but when it comes to telling you what I need, I freeze. It’s hard to ask for what I want. I don’t know if you’ll want the same things, or if I’ll be too much."

Vander’s expression softened even further, and he reached out to gently cup her cheek, guiding her eyes to meet his. "You’re not too much for me," he said with a sincerity that made Y/N’s heart ache. "I’ll never think that about you. If anything, it makes me want to be closer to you. To understand you better."

She bit her lip, feeling a fresh wave of uncertainty, but Vander’s steady presence made her feel a little braver. "I... I need you, Vander. More than you probably realise. Not just... in bed, but in every way. And sometimes it feels like I’m drowning in it. It’s like this constant hunger, this craving, and I’m scared you won’t want to keep up."

Vander was quiet for a long moment, his thumb brushing over her skin in slow, comforting motions. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke. "You’re not asking for too much. You’re asking for what you need, and I’m more than willing to help you find a way to make it work. We’ll go at your pace, and you don’t have to hide any part of yourself from me."

Y/N felt a wave of emotion rise in her chest. The warmth of his words, the way he was accepting her, all of her, without hesitation, broke down the walls she hadn’t even realised she had built. She wanted to reach for him, to pull him close, but there was a part of her that still felt fragile, still unsure.

"I just don’t want to overwhelm you," she murmured, her hands finally finding his, gripping them tightly as if holding on for dear life.

"You won’t overwhelm me," Vander reassured her. "I promise you, love, I’m not going anywhere. If anything, I want to be closer. I want to understand you better. Every part of you, even the parts that feel... too much. We’ll figure it out, step by step."

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply, feeling the weight of his words sink in. The knot in her chest began to loosen, and a part of her she hadn’t realised had been holding on so tightly finally relaxed. He wasn’t pushing her away. If anything, he was giving her the space to express herself fully.

"It’s not easy for me to ask," she admitted, her voice a little stronger now. "It’s like I’m afraid that if I ask too much, I’ll scare you off. Or... or that you’ll think I’m too much. But I need you so much. In a way that doesn’t always make sense, even to me."

Vander’s hand gently squeezed hers, bringing her focus back to him. "Love, you don’t have to be afraid of your needs. They’re part of who you are. And I’m not going to run from you because of that. What you need doesn’t scare me — it just makes me want to know you better. To understand what will make you feel safe and fulfilled. That’s all I want."

Y/N felt a soft warmth spread through her chest, and she leaned into his touch, allowing herself to finally relax a little. "I want to feel wanted. Not just in moments of passion, but all the time. I want to feel like you desire me, even when we’re not... together like that. Sometimes, I feel like I can’t stop, that there’s this constant need inside me. It’s exhausting sometimes, trying to keep it all in."

Vander’s hand gently cupped the back of her neck, drawing her closer to him. "I want to make sure you feel wanted, every single day, Y/N. Whether we’re sharing a quiet moment, talking, or... whatever else it is that you need. You don’t have to hold it all in anymore. You can come to me, and we’ll work through it. You’re not alone in this."

Her lips parted, her throat dry with emotion. "But... what if it’s too much? What if you get tired of me?"

Vander shook his head slowly, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "There’s no such thing as ‘too much’ for me, love. Not when it comes to you. I’m here to stay, for all of you. Every part of you. All the things you think might push me away? I want to be the one you can turn to when you need it the most."

The vulnerability in his eyes melted the last of Y/N’s hesitation, and she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his with a tender, grateful kiss. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the softness of their connection, the comfort of their shared understanding.

"Thank you," she whispered against his lips, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for being patient with me. For... understanding what I need. I’m scared sometimes, but with you, I don’t feel like I have to hide any of it."

Vander’s hand slid into her hair, gently tilting her head as his lips met hers again, this time with a deeper urgency. "You never have to thank me for that, love," he murmured between kisses. "I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure it out together, every step of the way."

And as their lips met again, Y/N knew that this was only the beginning. She wasn’t alone in this. Not anymore.

SILCO

The dim glow of the candles flickered across the darkened room, casting long shadows on the walls. The faint scent of tobacco smoke lingered in the air, and the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth was the only other sound that seemed to fill the heavy silence. Silco sat in his chair, his posture as straight and commanding as ever, but there was something different about him tonight. Something deeper. He was watching you with a gaze that was unreadable, though intense enough to make your heart race in your chest.

You shifted in your seat, fingers tracing the rim of your glass absentmindedly, your gaze dropping to the surface of the dark liquid inside it. The silence between you was thick, like a tangible weight, and it pressed down on you with an almost suffocating force. You weren’t used to feeling this way. You’d always been bold, confident in what you wanted. But with Silco, it was different. Every instinct you had, every sharp desire you had ever followed, seemed to be clouded by his presence, by his dark, unyielding gaze. There was an intensity to him, a danger, and a confidence that left you uncertain about how to approach him, how to bridge the space between what you needed and the words you were too scared to speak.

He was intimidating, in a way that made you second-guess everything. You had spent your whole life demanding what you wanted without hesitation, without apology. But this... this was different. His gaze alone made you feel vulnerable, exposed. The way his eyes never seemed to stray from you made your thoughts scatter, leaving you unsure of how to vocalise the longing that simmered beneath your skin.

He never pressured you, never asked for anything. And yet, you felt like there was so much he could ask of you. That he could demand things of you, in ways that sent a flush through your body. What would he think of you if you did speak up? Would he see your need for him as weakness? Would he think you too bold, too much?

The question lingered in your mind, and for the first time in a long time, you found yourself afraid. Afraid of wanting. Afraid of being open.

=

Silco, on the other hand, was watching you closely, studying the subtle way you shifted, the way your gaze darted to the floor when the heat between you both grew too much. He had known from the moment you’d walked into his office that something had changed. You were different with him now, no longer the confident, sharp individual you had once been. There was a vulnerability to you that he hadn’t seen before, and it intrigued him. But Silco was patient. He knew the power of waiting, of letting the tension build until it became unbearable, until you were forced to confront it.

He didn’t need to rush you, didn’t need to press. You would come to him when you were ready.

"You’re quiet tonight," Silco’s voice broke the stillness, low and smooth, like velvet slipping through your thoughts. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time since he’d entered the room. The look in his eyes made it feel like he could see straight through you, like he was reading your thoughts as easily as if they were written in front of him. "Something on your mind?"

You felt your breath catch in your throat. This was it. The moment you could speak up, the moment you could tell him what you truly needed. But as you opened your mouth to respond, the words died on your tongue. How could you tell him? How could you ask for something so intimate, so raw, when you could barely admit it to yourself?

“I’m…” you started, but your voice cracked, betraying you before you could finish. You bit your lip, frustration bubbling up inside you. This wasn’t like you. You had always been able to take control of your desires, to demand them when you wanted. But Silco? With him, you felt small, unsure, like something more than your usual self was being drawn out. Something you didn’t know how to navigate.

Silco saw the hesitation, the uncertainty in your eyes. He didn’t mock you for it. No, he simply waited. His gaze softened, just the smallest hint of concern flickering beneath the usual cold calculation. But the danger in his eyes remained, lurking beneath the surface, as if warning you that whatever happened next was entirely up to you.

Without a word, he stood up from his chair. His movements were deliberate, slow, like a predator closing in on its prey. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your stomach, a mixture of excitement and fear as he approached. Each step was measured, and each one felt like it brought him closer to something that both thrilled and terrified you.

When he stopped before you, his face just inches from yours, you felt your breath catch. His presence was overwhelming, and you couldn’t look away from the intensity in his gaze. His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that seemed at odds with the dark energy surrounding him.

“I know you want something, Y/N,” Silco’s voice was barely above a whisper now, as if he were teasing you. But there was something else in his tone, something more knowing, more assured. “Don’t be afraid to ask.”

And just like that, the dam that had held back your words began to crack. The raw vulnerability you’d tried to bury surged to the surface, a need so desperate, so consuming, that you could no longer pretend it didn’t exist. You needed him. You wanted him. But how could you put that into words?

His fingers moved gently down your neck, his touch light but electrifying, sending goosebumps across your skin. He didn’t press further, didn’t push, but the weight of his presence—of his understanding—made your heart race. His voice, though soft, was filled with an intensity that left you breathless.

“You don’t need to be scared of me,” Silco whispered, the words both comforting and unsettling. “I don’t bite. Not unless you ask me to.”

A shiver ran through you at his words, and for a brief moment, you considered it. What would it be like, to ask him? To demand from him, to finally give in to the ache that had been building inside you? The thought made you dizzy, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

Your hand reached up, trembling slightly as it covered his, guiding it further down your body, silently pleading for him to understand. You didn’t need to say anything more. He had already seen it in the way you’d looked at him, in the way your breath hitched every time his fingers brushed against your skin.

“Silco…” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart pounded against your ribs, but something inside you broke free. You had never been this open, this vulnerable with anyone before, but you needed to say it. "I… I’m not like other people. I’ve always been… hypersexual. It’s not that I don’t want you—I do. But I’ve never been able to ask for what I need, and it makes me feel—" You paused, taking a breath, unsure if you could finish, but you pushed through. "It makes me feel... desperate, sometimes."

Silco’s eyes darkened at your admission, the flicker of understanding clear in his gaze. The silence between you now felt different—he was no longer waiting for you to speak. He was waiting for you to trust him. And in that moment, you realised that you had. Completely.

His smile curled at the edges, slow and knowing, as if he were proud of you for speaking your truth. His hand tightened slightly on yours, and he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear.

“There you are,” he murmured, the heat in his voice unmistakable. "No more hiding."

You closed your eyes, your pulse thundering in your ears as the tension between you became unbearable. There were no more walls, no more hesitation. You could feel the rawness of your need, the way your body screamed for him in a way you could no longer ignore.

“You don’t have to ask, Y/N,” Silco’s voice dropped to a low growl, sending another shiver down your spine. "I’ll take care of you. But I need you to understand something. When you give yourself to me... there’s no going back."

And for the first time, you weren’t afraid. You wanted him, wanted this. You wanted him to take you—just as he promised he would. And in that moment, you knew you had just surrendered the last of your reservations.

MEL

The soft, ambient light of the evening filtered through the tall windows of Mel’s study, casting long shadows across the room. The quiet hum of the city outside seemed distant, muffled by the thick stone walls. In her chair, Mel leaned back, her gaze intense as she regarded Y/N across the room.

Y/N, seated on the plush armchair, fiddled nervously with the hem of her sleeve. The two had been together for a little while now, but something still held Y/N back. She longed for more, for something deeper, but there was an inexplicable fear that gripped her every time she thought of asking for what she truly desired. She wanted to tell Mel exactly what she needed—wanted to surrender to the desire that had been simmering beneath her skin—but the words wouldn't come.

Mel had always been so confident, so sure of herself. Y/N found it hard to imagine that someone as poised and self-assured as her could ever feel the same fear, the same hesitation. It was a thought that kept her from asking, from reaching out, and it left her sitting in silence, unsure of how to break the tension that seemed to stretch between them.

She couldn’t even bring herself to admit it aloud.

“Mel,” Y/N said softly, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “I… I feel like I’m always the one… waiting for something more. But I don’t know how to ask.”

Mel set down the papers in her hands and turned her full attention to Y/N. She could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the way her fingers twitched in hesitation. There was something in Y/N’s posture, something raw, that made her heart ache. She could feel the weight of it—the unspoken desire, the longing—but Mel had always been the kind of woman who understood the power of patience.

“I know,” Mel said gently, her voice soothing yet filled with a knowing warmth that made Y/N’s breath catch. She moved closer, settling down on the edge of the armchair, their proximity sending a subtle rush of heat through the air between them. “You’re afraid of asking for what you need. But, you know... you’re not the only one.”

Y/N looked up at Mel, surprise flickering across her face. The words hung in the air like a promise, soft yet undeniably powerful. “You too?”

Mel nodded, her expression softening as she met Y/N’s gaze, her eyes dark with understanding. “I’ve been in that place, where it’s hard to even vocalise what you want. It’s not just you, darling. Sometimes, the fear of being too forward, too demanding... it stops us from even saying the simplest things.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and her breath hitched. She had always assumed Mel, with all her elegance, grace, and undeniable allure, was someone who knew exactly what she wanted. The revelation that Mel had struggled with the same fear made her feel less alone, but it also caused something more dangerous to stir inside her—an overwhelming vulnerability.

“I don’t want to be... too much,” Y/N confessed quietly, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I feel like if I ask for more, I’ll scare you off or... or be too demanding.”

Mel’s hand found Y/N’s, her fingers warm and reassuring. She gently guided Y/N’s hand to her own lap, her thumb tracing delicate patterns across her skin as if to soothe away the tension. “You’re not too much,” she said firmly, her voice low, almost intimate. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting more—wanting everything—when you’re with someone who sees you. Who understands you.”

Y/N looked at Mel, searching her face for any hint of insincerity. Her heart raced with an anxious thrill. “You mean it?”

Mel’s lips quirked into a small smile, and she leaned in a little closer, their faces mere inches apart now. The scent of her perfume—a delicate blend of jasmine and sandalwood—filled the air, and Y/N could feel the warmth radiating from Mel’s body. “Of course,” she whispered, her voice soft and smooth like silk. “I’m the same. It’s easy to be scared of wanting too much, but what we both need is simple, isn’t it?”

Y/N swallowed, trying to steady her racing heart. She was so close now, so close to Mel’s warmth, but the words were still stuck in her throat. She could feel the pressure building in her chest, like an overwhelming tide threatening to crash over her. “What do we need?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Mel’s thumb brushed over the back of Y/N’s hand, her touch gentle yet insistent. “We need to be honest,” Mel said softly, her eyes darkening with a knowing intensity. “We need to trust that neither of us will be too much for the other. And if there’s something you want... something that makes you feel safe, or wanted... you just need to tell me. I’ll listen.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened at the intimacy in Mel’s words. There was something dangerous and enticing about her quiet promise, something that made her ache for more. Mel wasn’t just offering to listen—she was offering everything. And for the first time, Y/N felt the weight of her own desires, raw and unguarded.

“But what if I tell you something that’s... too much?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her breath shallow as she tried to steady her trembling hands.

Mel leaned in even closer, her lips brushing against Y/N’s ear, sending a thrill of heat down her spine. “If it’s what you truly need, it’s never too much for me,” she said softly, her voice laced with a seductive promise. “Never.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The words were so simple, yet so full of unspoken desire, that it took everything in her not to give in to the heat pooling in her stomach. She had never imagined Mel to be so open, so willing to give everything. But here, now, with her body so close, so tantalisingly near, Y/N realised that this was not a woman who would shy away from the heat of desire. No, Mel was a woman who thrived in it.

“Mel...” Y/N began, her voice steadier now, though still tinged with vulnerability. She turned her gaze up to meet Mel’s, feeling the weight of her longing pressing in on her chest. “I think I know what I need from you.”

Mel’s eyes darkened, anticipation flooding her expression. She moved even closer, their faces so near now that Y/N could feel the warmth of Mel’s breath on her lips. Her heart pounded in her chest, every fibre of her body alive with the raw tension, waiting for Mel’s response.

Y/N hesitated for just a moment longer before Mel began speaking, her voice quiet but heavy with an unspoken promise. “I need you to show me what you feel... not just with words, but with actions. I need to feel all of you, Y/N. The real you. Everything you’re afraid to show—the passion, the tenderness, the desire... all of it.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered with understanding, her lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. “You want everything, then?” Her voice was a sultry whisper, sending a shiver down Mel’s spine.

Mel nodded, her breath hitching as she met Y/N’s gaze, the heat of desire building between them. She had never been more certain of her own desires. “Yes. I want all of you, Y/N. Everything you have to offer.”

Y/N’s smile deepened, a predatory curve to her lips. She leaned in, her lips brushing against Mel’s forehead in a lingering kiss, as if savouring the moment. “Then everything you shall have,” she murmured, her voice low, possessive.

When their lips finally met, it wasn’t just a kiss—it was a surrender. A moment of raw vulnerability shared between them. Mel’s kiss was soft, tender, but beneath it simmered a heat that pulled Y/N closer, drawing her in. It was a kiss that promised so much more, a kiss that spoke of desires that had been waiting to be released.

Mel’s hands roamed over Y/N’s back, drawing her in tighter. The kiss deepened, slow at first, then urgent, as Y/N melted into it, letting herself be consumed by the fire that burned between them. There was no hesitation now. No fear. Only the raw, unfiltered need to feel everything—to experience everything they had been too afraid to ask for.

In that moment, Y/N realised something. With Mel, there would be no holding back. There would be no more fear of asking for what she truly craved. No more shame. No more barriers. It was a new beginning—one of honesty, vulnerability, and a love that was free of limits. A love that burned hot and fierce, giving them both what they needed.

As their bodies pressed closer, the world outside seemed to fade away. All that mattered was the connection between them. Y/N knew she could ask for everything now, and Mel would be there to give it—all of it. No shame, no hesitation, just desire. Just passion. And just each other.

[paulyenvol6]

Heavy Hearts

Joel passes a group of raiders who are assaulting a girl that lives in the attacked village and decides to save her.

Contains: mentions of rape and sexual assault, trauma, angst, anxiety, panic attack, very caring and empathetic Joel

I'm not a psychologist and don't know how a person that has been sexually assaulted typically copes so please don't be mad if you don't like the way I described it.

Wordcount: ~3.80k

Masterlist

Usually Joel wouldn't have stopped.

Usually he wouldn't have even looked.

In situations like this he just tried to pass the group of raiders praying that they wouldn't notice and rob him as well because he was on his own after all and although he was a skilled fighter, he wasn't able to take a whole pack of them. So when he passed a camp or village where he could hear the raiders from afar Joel usually avoided it and quickly made his way past it.

But today it was different. It wasn't a very large group of men, maybe 5 or 6 and Joel hadn't been able to notice them until he was already close to the few houses. Once he did he immediately stopped and hid behind a tree.

"Shit," he cursed to himself and since he had a horse with him he knew that he needed to be very careful now so they wouldn't see him.

At first Joel watched them for a moment and then decided to try and back out until he could take the way around the forest which was a long diversion but it was better than to get killed by them.

He was just about to leave his hiding spot when he heard another noise. A high-pitched anxious voice that stood out compared to the laughter of the men.

He hesitated. Out of mere curiousity Joel narrowed his eyes to make out what was happening at the camp and it didn't take long for him to understand. The raiders were kneeling and standing around a girl and obviously intended to claim her as their prize. This wasn't new to Joel as raiders usually took from villages whatever they desired which included young women and to survive in a world like this one had to grow immune to their suffering.

And yet Joel hesitated again. His brain worked hard while he didn't take his eyes off the scene for one second. As much as he felt for the girl, he couldn't risk his life for her. There were four men around her and he couldn't be certain that he would be able to take down all of them. He had worked too hard, had sacrificed too much to be at this point in his life now to throw it all away for a girl. An innocent girl.

Joel's eye twitched and he chewed on his bottom lip. Her screams cut through the air like knives and each hit him in his stomach with so much force that he almost fell back. He couldn't do it. Jesus Christ, he couldn't save her. This was the destiny of so many women and girls and as horrible and sad as it was, Joel wouldn't change the world by saving her. So many more girls would get raped and assaulted even if he helped her.

He felt his foot getting numb which made him realize that he was already sitting here for way too long. He slowly rose to his feet while still observing the men. He couldn't see a lot but it looked like they were trying to take off her clothes which she tried to prevent. She kicked and shouted for someone to make them stop and Joel couldn't help but feel like her words were directed to him.

There was a thunderstorm inside of him; the urge to hit those motherfuckers who had grown so evil and vicious that they had fun raping girls but the rational side of his brain told him to turn around and never look back. And yet Joel hesitated again.

Maybe he thought that he would find a solution to his dilemma if he only waited for long enough. But then when he heard another heartbreaking sob from far away his emotions took over and he saw red.

Blinded by rage Joel swang himself on his horse and made his way to the house. It was so stupid that he immediately regretted it but now he couldn't turn back. Luckily the raiders only noticed him when he jumped off the horse as they were too busy groping the girl but when they did one started screaming and the other men immediately let go of the girl.

Later Joel couldn't remember the fight very well. This happened often, his adrenaline was so high that he felt like he was in a drunken state and his body and mind were disconnected. All Joel remembered was him shooting the first two of them instantly but then one of the guys managed to knock the gun out of his hand and kicked him in his stomach.

What followed was a messy fight that involved a lot of dirt but in the end Joel was able to take another of them down. At this point though the fifth raider that had been inside the house until now had joined his friends and Joel had to face two more men. It was an exhausting and draining fight, but eventually Joel found himself lying on his back surrounded by two dead and three unconscious men.

One of them had driven a little knife into his thigh but it was nothing that wouldn't heal after a couple of days so he forced himself to his feet well-aware that at some point three of the men would wake up again.

Only now did he perceive the girl for the first time. She was uncontrollably sobbing, had formed herself into a ball and covered her eyes with her arms. Her clothes had been torn off and were hanging loosely around her body. Joel sighed and watched her with a numb feeling. She was young, incredibly young and looked so vulnerable like this. He didn't want to terrify her in any way but knew that they had to leave quickly now so Joel approached her.

"Hey," he whispered while towering over her.

"N-NO," she screamed and tried to move away from him.

Of course. He should've known that it wouldn't be easy to get her to trust him after what she had just gone through. Joel quickly took off his jacket and put it on top of her body.

"Take this," he said but it seemed like she didn't even really listen to him and instead just repeated the word 'No'.

Joel exhaled loudly not knowing what he was supposed to do now. Obviously he couldn't leave her here because then his whole saving plan would've been for nothing but he also couldn't force her to come with him especially when she believed he wanted to harm her a well.

When he heard a noise behind him he remembered the urgency of the situation. One of the raiders had let out a moan and Joel snapped back to reality. Without giving it a second thought he placed one hand under her knees while his other wrapped around her shoulder and then he lifted her from the ground. The girl screamed and kicked with her feet but Joel knew he had to do this now. He wasn't going to hurt her, he was going to save her and he was going to make sure that she could see that.

He swiftly ran to his horse and managed to heave her into the saddle. She was fighting him but seemingly was too exhausted to get off the horse on her own so he had enough time to climb on it as well and took his seat behind her. Then Joel gave his horse the signal to move and tightly wrapped an arm around the girl's stomach so she wouldn't fall down.

"It's okay, it's okay. You're safe with me," he tried to calm her as she was squirming and sobbing so hard that she didn't even seem able to properly perceive her surroundings.

"N-No, please. No, let me go," she cried and scratched his arm that was around her body.

"I saved you, I killed these men. You're safe now. I'm not gonna hurt you."

At first he didn't know if his words even had any effect on her but soon her sobs became more quiet although it also could be a result from her growing extremely tired. Soon her body only occasionally shook and her head had dropped to the side.

"It's okay, I got ya. I promise you, I won't harm you," Joel whispered.

He didn't know if she had heard him or if she believed him but she stopped fighting until they arrived at his house in the midst of the forest.

Joel stopped his horse, climbed off it and then lifted her to the ground by her waist. She let it happen but her glossy eyes gave away how traumatized and far away she was. Her wobbly knees immediately buckled and Joel could only just prevent her from falling to the ground. His hands wrapped around her shoulder and he carefully pulled her with him inside of his house. Perhaps she had already gotten used to the thought of another man assaulting her now because she didn't even complain when Joel sat her down on the couch. Only that he of course wouldn't.

He quickly brought a blanket so she was finally covered and put it on top of her. Then he rushed to the kitchen to search for any food he could give her and actually found some dry and hard bread, milk and an apple. His heart was beating fast although he wasn't sure why. He had helped her and they were safe now so there was no reason to be nervous.

But when Joel looked at her again he knew what gave him anxiety. He didn't have a lot of experience with comforting someone let alone help someone who had gone through something comparable to what she had experienced. How was he supposed to communicate with her without scaring her? She still believed that another predator had just brought her into his home and he somehow had to convince her of the fact that he wouldn't hurt her.

Joel closed his eyes while forcing himself to breathe steadily and then made his way to the middle of the living room. The girl had actually wrapped the blanket around her body but twitched when she saw him. Joel immediately lifted his hand to signalize her to stay calm while slowly approaching.

"It's okay." But she pressed herself closer to the backrest and Joel could see her trembling lip from far away. She wasn't crying anymore but her face was still drawn with so much fear that Joel was scared to make one wrong step.

"Alright. I won't come any closer than this, promise."

He actually stopped but put the food he had brought on the sofa table.

"I have something for you. Are you hungry?"

She didn't answer him and just stared at him with eyes round as coins.

"That's bread over here and I have some milk and an apple. Take it if you're hungry."

Still no answer and now Joel didn't know what to do. Was he supposed to talk to her? Would that soothe her? Or should he leave her alone and vanish into his room? But what if she still assumed that he had nothing good in mind and fled from his house right into the arms of the raiders.

He would try something else, Joel declared and slowly sat down on the ground. Perhaps she would feel less intimidated if he wasn't towering over her.

"What's your name, little one?" he asked trying to make his voice sound as gentle as he possibly could.

"I promise, I don't wanna hurt ya. I know that you're very scared right now but you don't have to be scared of me."

She seemed to actually listen to him this time which Joel considered a progress. Her eyelids fluttered and her pupils searched frantically for any sign of danger on him, but Joel reassuringly showed her his hands.

"I don't have any weapon with me. See?"

He could almost hear her brain work behind her forehead measuring if she could trust him and Joel noticed how her hands clenched around the blanket covering her. A little sob left her mouth but this time only a few fresh tears ran down her cheeks and Joel felt like he still had her attention.

"It's okay. Let it out."

He sat patiently looking down to his hands so she wouldn't feel intimidated by his eyes on her until he felt brave enough to ask her for her name once more.

"What's your name?"

She slowly opened her mouth but at first no sound was escaping so Joel nodded encouragingly.

"S-Sophia," she whispered with a croaked voice but he managed to understand her.

"Okay, Sophia," he said gently and felt very helpless.

But then, and he didn't know why because it was solely based on a feeling inside of him he started to speak again and watched her with warm eyes.

"I had a daughter once. She was around your age." Silence.

"Her name was Sarah."

Her eyes wandered over his face but she still didn't show any reaction so Joel didn't know what drove him to tell this girl about his daughter that had nothing to do with any of this but something about it felt right.

"She had an obsession with insects and snails and all these disgusting animals, it was insane. You know, for her eleventh birthday she wanted to build a snail-hotel and collect them for it but her party guests were so freaked out that it ended in chaos." Joel laughed quietly. "But she hated hiking so she would always demand of me to drive into the forest to search for her animals which I wasn't a fan of."

At this point Joel wasn't thinking about what he was saying anymore and leaned his head back against the armchair.

"I always said: If you want to chase after your little animals and want me to come with you then you'll at least walk there. And then she'd say that she didn't chase after them but saved them."

Joel chuckled and then snapped back from his daydreaming when he looked into Sophia's big eyes that definitely looked a little more calm now.

"My name is Joel, by the way. Joel Miller."

He thought that it was only appropriate to finally introduce himself as well and he could actually see Sophia slightly nod with her head if he hadn't imagined it. And then the girl slowly sat up on the couch and watched the food on the table in front of her.

"C-Can I have a-an apple?" she whispered.

"Yes. Of course," he answered immediately and jumped to his feet which made her jolt.

"Sorry. Just… Take whatever you want."

Her shivering hand reached for the fruit and she touched it almost as if it were made of glass. Joel felt weird watching her every movement but he didn't know what else to do so after she had taken a first bite he decided to just ask her.

"Do you want me to go away? I could go to my room and give you some peace."

She bit her lip questioningly and then shrugged with her shoulders.

"I-I… I don't know, I…"

Tears welled in her eyes again and Joel wondered if he had said something to upset her.

"Okay, it's alright. Just tell me whenever you want me to leave."

She nodded and took another bite of the apple which gave Joel relief and the next few minutes were filled with the sound of her chewing and her heavy breathing. When she was done Sophie questioningly searched for his eyes while holding up the core of the apple.

"Just put it on the table," Joel said and then carefully thought about his next words.

"I… Is there anything I can do, Sophia? Anything to help you? I'm not good at this stuff as you see, but… I wanna help you."

She sniffed and wrapped the blanket tighter around her upper body.

"I-I don't know… I d-don't even know w-what happened," she said but her voice broke at her last words and she started to cry again. His instinct was to approach her but of course he didn't want to do anything that could trigger any more discomfort in her so he hesitated.

But then something happened. Something in her eyes shifted and she slowly lifted a hand.

"P-Please…"

Joel didn't understand at first but soon realized that she was reaching out for him. Still he wanted to make sure he didn't interpret her gesture wrong and frowned.

"Do you want me to come closer?"

Sophia gave him a pained look but then nodded very slightly. Joel didn't know why she reacted like this, he didn't know if he was handling this situation correctly but right now he wanted to serve the girl and her wishes and so he followed her demand and very slowly in order to give her time to speak up in case she changed her mind walked towards her.

He felt awkward standing in front of her and looked to the spot next to her. "Can I sit down?"

Sophia nodded again while trying to make the tears stop that continued to run down her face and even moved to make space for him. Joel sat down, immediately looked at her and felt a sting in his chest. Being close to her he became even more aware of how terrible this girl must be feeling. Her eyes were red and he could see multiple scratches and traces of dirt on her face. Only then did he realize that he hadn't even asked one of the most important questions.

"Are you hurt?"

This time it took her a little longer to reply again but to his relief Sophia shook her head. "N-No. Not r-really."

"But I can still give you a salve for the scratches if you want. Might've some medicine left," he quickly stated while looking at her profile.

"What happened?" she suddenly whispered while still staring into the empty space. Joel chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully before he exhaled.

"Do you really wanna talk about it?"

Her head turned so suddenly that he almost twitched.

"I need to know."

What was he to do now? It seemingly was her wish to learn about it but despite not knowing a lot about trauma and how to deal with it, Joel couldn't imagine that talking about it right after it had happened was very healthy.

"Look, I just don't wanna trigger anything," he therefore told her but Sophia let her head fall back against the backrest almost as if she was frustrated which made Joel sigh.

"Do you want me to tell ya? You sure?"

"Yes," she breathed.

And so he began to tell his side of the story but couldn't bare looking in her eyes while doing so.

"I passed the camp 'cause I didn't notice the raiders at first… And then I wanted to turn around and go back but… I… I saw what was happenin' with… you an' so I changed my mind, you know and attacked 'em. I killed two of 'em and the others were knocked out an' yeah, I guess that's it."

During his last words he felt strong enough to glance at her again. She looked like she was thinking but then bit her lower lip.

"And then?"

"What do ya mean?"

Her pupils danced hectically and Joel could see her eyes getting wet again.

"What happened after that? I can't remember."

She pressed her hand on her eyes trying to prevent herself from breaking down again.

"No, no, it's okay. I'll tell ya everything. Just look at me."

She slowly lifted her head and gave him a doubtful look while her hands grabbed the blanket again.

"I gave you my jacket. And then I lifted you on my horse and we came here to my house. You were kinda unresponsive the whole time."

She looked so sad suddenly that Joel once again asked himself if he had chosen the wrong words. Then Sophie brought her thumb to her mouth to nibble at it while sniffing loudly.

"I don't know what to do."

It sounded so heartbreaking that Joel unconsciously reached out to soothe her shoulder but quickly let go of her as soon as he realized.

"Sorry, I… You don't have to do anything right now. You just have to eat and sleep. Everything else we'll figure out."

"I don't wanna sleep," the girl disagreed at once and Joel tilted his head.

"That's okay. But if you're tired you should try an' get a few hours of sleep at least."

Sophia shook her head and seemed panicky all of a sudden.

"Please don't leave me. I don't wanna be here alone, please. I'm scared."

Joel sat up straight and folded his hands in his lap.

"I'm not gonna leave you. I'll be right in the next room. And you're safe here, I promise."

But his words seemed to only upset her further because she watched him with wide eyes and looked very pale.

"But I don't wanna be alone at night, please."

Joel sighed still not sure if he was serving her right by staying with her under these circumstances but she seemed so certain of what she wanted right now.

She couldn't possibly trust him like this already and although he obviously knew that he would never harm her in any way, he still wondered if he might scare her if he stayed with her. She was in an extremely vulnerable position right now and probably felt so horrible that she might get attached to any person that took care of her. But if it was her wish? If she would only feel worse if he left?

"Are you sure?" She nodded. "You want me to stay here?"

"Yes," she said quietly and glared at him looking almost shy.

"Okay. But you can still tell me to leave whenever you wanna be alone, alright?"

"Yes," she repeated and then moved slightly closer to him.

"Can I… Can I hold your hand?"

Joel almost teared up at her words and felt like his airways were blocked. In addition to that the heavy weight on his heart seemed to double in size but then he nodded.

"Of course," he breathed with a husky voice and offered her his hand which she enclosed with hers and then rested her head on top of them.

Neither of them said something for the rest of the night but Joel was busy with listening to her steady breathing.

He didn't know whether she had fallen asleep or was way too upset to even feel tired but he just stayed like this all night.

At some point his hand that Sophia gripped so tightly felt numb but even then he didn't pull back.

He just watched over her until with the first light of dawn Joel also felt sleep washing over him.

[shepherds-of-haven]

What is each RO's favorite type of weather? Who likes rainy days, who wants sunny days, etc.?

Blade: for mission purposes, he prefers cloudy days or torrential rain, depending on what he's doing at the moment and how much he has to worry about pursuit LOL. But for personal aesthetic, he seems to enjoy calm, balmy, slightly chilly but clear spring days the most, or the kind of snow in winter that feels very vast and silent!

Trouble: he's a sunshine guy and loves sweltering summer days when the sun is blasting down and noontime means everyone is dozing in the shade or in their drowsy, slightly stuffy rooms while the cicadas whine outside! He absolutely hates rain, and chilly autumn days depress him, though he doesn't mind the festive snowy days around Wintersun!

Tallys: she likes tranquil summer dawns, or late spring where it hasn't gotten hot but everything is blooming and clear and sweetly sunny. She doesn't mind rain, either, and likes how it can make everyone slow down and be pensive for a little while, though summer rain or spring showers are the best, rather than the gray sad sleet that preludes snow in the late fall!

Shery: she's one of those types that likes all kinds of weather, though I think she likes rainy days the least, because she tends to feel it prevents her from getting a lot of work done! She really likes snowy days where everyone can stay inside and keep warm by the fire, but she also adores the colors of fall, the rejuvenation of springtime, and even the heat of summer, which Haven is fairly well-known for!

Riel: he likes autumn the best, those brisk autumn days when the leaves are rustling and twirling around on the pavement and the nights are extremely crisp and sharp and the haze against the stars seems to clarify into something much more lucid. There's something about fall that really appeals to his personality, and he tends to do his best thinking around that time of year, plus winter! He doesn't really like rain--it often gives him a headache and annoys him because it gets in the way of productivity--and he HATES hot summer days. He HATES them. The kind of days where you're always sticky with sweat and your clothes are clinging to you and you're always vaguely irritated and you want to crawl out of your skin. His beloathed.

Red: he likes all kinds of weather, though in order of preference I'd say it goes cozy snowy winter days -> temperate (not sweltering; summers hit different in Capra and lake country) summer days and nights -> colorful pleasant fall (with the colors but not the raking wind) -> balmy spring days -> rain. He doesn't mind any of them, really, and finds equal value in them all, but those are his preferences! If we're factoring in Haven weather specifically, then yeah, he's not a fan of the very hot summer days that make you just want to take a nap lol.

Chase: summer nights all the way for him. There's just something about the city coming alive at night in the summertime that feels different from every other part of the year, something invigorating and energizing and sort of exotic that he just loves. Maybe it's the warm Conte blood in him, but he goes HAM around summertime. This also tends to be when he picks up the most romantic paramours lol. He likes fall a lot, too! He finds being snowed in or rained in pretty stifling most of the time and tends to drive everyone around him up the walls if he has to stay cooped up indoors because of the weather, lol.

Ayla: being from Jalis, she thrives in the summer heat, obviously, but rainy days also appeal to her because she didn't get them as much growing up! Rain in Jalis also tended to be accompanied by howling dust storms, so getting to sit around and just watch calm rain trickling down the window panes and eaves is a luxury she continues to enjoy! She HATES the snow and the cold, though. She's not used to having to bundle up and finds it insufferably constrictive.

Briony: she adores both rainy days (finding them fun and romantic) and breezy spring days when all of the flowers are in bloom and colorful petals and sweet smells are drifting by on the breeze~ She likes snowy days/winter nights around Wintersun too, but fall starts to make her feel a little melancholy, and summer can make her absolutely sluggish lol, so she tends to dislike it!

Lavinet: she thinks snowy days are absolutely romantic and adores them (not least because the pale landscape flatters her and draws attention to her outfit choices most fetchingly). However, she also enjoys spring/summer picnicking weather, the kind that allows you to stroll around arm-in-arm along promenades or hold lawn concerts and garden parties outside! She hates dusty Haven summers, though, and privately wants to shave off her whole head when it gets too hot.

Halek: he likes cloud-watching, so ostensibly mid-spring days are his favorite! He also really likes the summertime in Haven too, though! He can roll up his shirtsleeves and slouch around. Snow is more "meh" to him since he grew up with so much of it, but he doesn't mind it, either!

[alaia777]

HIIII I hope you’re doing good! I just LOVE YOUR WORKS!! And I just saw that your request were open soooo… (It isn’t actually a request at first I just wanted to share a thought I had and you can write something for it if you want or ignore it as well it’s fine too but I just felt like sharing this idea!)

So basically, I was thinking about a Reo x Reader in which the scenario would basically be:

Reader is a friend of bachira, Isagi & Chigiri (obviously reader is chaotic & unserious if friend of bachira) and like Reo rlly likes reader’s vibes and kind of fall in love with her, but he doesn’t allow himself to have these feelings for her because he thinks reader is not from the same world as him and his parents will never accept him dating someone like that.

BUT dot dot dot,

Like a week later, his parents are having like some meeting with others important persons and their children have to be there too bc why not so Reo is here, AND WHO HE FIND AT THIS MEETING? READER!! And then he realises we’re actually from a rich & high status family and he sees us acting way different than we did when he saw us hanging out with bachira, like we are now acting respectful and serious while it was the opposite when Reo first saw us, and basically Reo is like ‘wow, she’s perfect’

THANKS FOR READING MY REQUEST THROUGH ITS NOT REALLY ONE, I just felt like sharing that thought! Remember to eat & drink well, byee!

hellooo!! i really loved your idea, it was so much fun to write! i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed working on it! take care, sending you all my loveeee <333

you’ve been friends with isagi, bachira, and chigiri for a while now. you were first friends with chigiri, who introduced you to them, and honestly, it felt like you fit right in—your personality blending perfectly with the other three.

you don’t like to pick favorites since that can break friendships, but if you had to, bachira might be something close to that. he’s always buzzing with energy—while the other two can have their moments of calm, bachira never seems to run out of battery. it’s like he’s constantly on, always looking for the next thrill, the next laugh, the next game to turn life into.

and you love that—finally getting to cut loose and just have fun. with bachira, it’s always something ridiculous. once, you both convinced isagi and chigiri to have a shopping cart race in an empty parking lot. you pushed bachira at full speed while he screamed like he was in a high-speed chase, and chigiri nearly crashed into a bush because isagi was too focused on winning to steer properly.

another time, you and bachira tried to see how many arcade claw machine prizes you could win in a row, turning it into a full-blown competition. bachira ended up with a ridiculous number of stuffed animals, chigiri kept missing on purpose just to avoid carrying them, and isagi nearly broke the machine by shaking it too hard.

“this thing is obviously rigged,” he muttered.

“or maybe you just suck at it,” you teased, grinning as you pulled out yet another prize on your first try.

even the simplest things turn into adventures with them, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

there has been an addition to your friend group. well, not exactly an addition—they were already friends with the others, but you hadn’t met them before. their names were nagi and reo.

nagi was easy to figure out. he was laid-back, always looking like he was five seconds away from falling asleep, but somehow still keeping up with the chaos you and bachira stirred up. he never tried to stop it—just stood on the sidelines.

reo, though—reo was different.

he was friendly, easy to talk to, always jumping into conversations with a confidence that made him seem like he belonged. but with you, there was something else. something hesitant.

he seemed to gravitate toward you without meaning to, always ending up next to you in conversations, standing just a little closer than necessary. but then, just as quickly, he’d pull away—like he caught himself getting too comfortable. like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to.

and you couldn’t figure out why.

he could figure out why.

he liked you.

your eccentric personality, the way you always seemed to smile—not just around his friends but around him too—made his heart weak. you had this way of making everything feel exciting, like the world was a little brighter just because you were in it. and unfortunately, he knew that whatever he was dreaming of whenever he looked at you was just that—a dream.

you two were from different worlds.

he couldn’t show up to dinner with his parents and introduce you as his girlfriend. not because he didn’t want to—god, he wanted to—but because he knew exactly how that conversation would go.

“who are her parents?”

“what does her family do?”

“does she understand our world?”

and he wouldn’t have the answers they wanted to hear. because, as far as he knew, you were just an ordinary girl from an ordinary life. no name that held weight, no empire backing you, no future that had already been paved out for you like his had.

so he kept his distance. as much as he could, anyway.

except it was impossible. because no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that it wouldn’t work, that it couldn’t work, he’d always find himself right back next to you—laughing at your jokes, getting caught up in your energy, wanting more of you in ways he knew he shouldn’t.

but dreams weren’t meant to last. and this? whatever this was? it was never supposed to start in the first place.

that thought followed him everywhere—at practice, at home, and even now, as he sat stiffly at a round table, surrounded by people who spoke in dull, rehearsed tones.

these events were routine. his parents dragged him to them from time to time, expecting him to sit through dinner, shake hands, and engage in polite, empty conversations. it always bored him out of his mind. the food was expensive, the champagne flowed freely, and yet, it all felt lifeless.

there were other people his age, but they were no better. perfectly mannered, perfectly dull, sticking to scripted pleasantries that never led anywhere real.

he wanted you here.

he wanted to hear your laugh cut through the hum of forced conversation, wanted to see the way your eyes would light up whenever bachira pitched some ridiculous idea.

he could already picture it so clearly. except—

why was he actually seeing someone that looked exactly like you a few tables over?

his breath caught in his throat.

same face. same familiar spark in your eyes. but the version of you sitting there was—classier.

your hair was styled differently, and you wore a dress that looked like it cost more than someone’s monthly salary. it fit you effortlessly, draping over you in a way that made you look like you belonged here, like you were born for this world he’d convinced himself you weren’t a part of.

except it was you.

and reo felt his entire reality tilt on its axis.

he couldn’t stop himself from approaching your table, and when your eyes met his, you greeted him with a sweet smile—polished, composed, a little too perfect compared to the one he was used to.

“good evening, reo. it’s a pleasure to see you again,” you said, your voice smooth and measured.

the words felt so foreign coming from you that he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “why are you talking like that?”

for a split second, your expression wavered, the ghost of your usual smirk threatening to break through. but just as quickly, you reined it in, maintaining the same poised demeanor.

your parents, however, exchanged puzzled glances.

“honey,” your mother asked, her tone curious but polite, “do you know this young man?”

reo’s gaze flickered between you and them, his mind still struggling to reconcile the version of you he knew with the one sitting before him now.

you smiled—again, too polished, too controlled—and folded your hands neatly in your lap. “yes, mother. this is reo. we have mutual friends.”

mutual friends.

reo didn’t know why that made his stomach twist.

“is that so?” your father chimed in, looking him over with the kind of careful scrutiny reo had grown up around. “and what do your parents do, young man?”

reo didn’t answer. he was still looking at you, waiting for you to crack, to drop the act, to laugh and tell him this was all some elaborate prank. but you didn’t.

instead, you tilted your head ever so slightly and gave him that same polite smile.

and reo—who had spent weeks convincing himself that he could never be with you because you were from a different world—suddenly realized he had never known a damn thing about you at all.

reo didn’t give you a chance to react. one moment, he was standing beside your table, and the next, his hand was wrapped around yours, pulling you away from the lingering stares of your parents and the stiff, dull atmosphere of the event.

“reo—” you started, but he didn’t slow down, weaving through the elegantly dressed crowd until he found a quieter spot, a secluded balcony overlooking the city. only then did he let go, turning to face you with narrowed eyes.

“what the hell is going on?” he demanded, breath slightly uneven, whether from frustration or something else, you weren’t sure. “why were you talking like that? why are you here—like this?”

you exhaled, leaning against the cool railing. “because this is my life,” you admitted. “the one i never told you about.”

his jaw clenched. “so what? you’ve been lying to us this whole time?”

“no,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “it’s not like that. i just, i didn’t want this to matter. with you, with nagi, with bachira, with chigiri and isagi—i didn’t want to be this person. i just wanted to be me.”

reo ran a hand through his hair, his expression unreadable. “so you’re telling me you’re rich. like, stupidly rich.”

you huffed a small laugh. “yeah. basically.”

he let out a long sigh, looking away for a moment before glancing back at you. “so all this time, i thought i couldn’t be with you because i was the rich one and you weren’t.” he scoffed, shaking his head. “turns out, i was completely wrong.”

your lips parted slightly. “wait, what?”

he blinked, as if realizing what he had just admitted. his ears turned the faintest shade of red. “nothing,” he muttered quickly. “forget it.”

but you didn’t. a slow smile crept onto your lips. “reo, were you avoiding me because you liked me?”

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “can we not do this right now?”

but you were grinning now, stepping closer. “so if i had just told you the truth from the beginning, we could’ve been on a date ages ago?”

“alright, that’s it,” he huffed, and before you could react, he grabbed your hand again, but this time, it was different. slower. more deliberate.

“dance with me,” he said.

you blinked at him. “reo, there’s no music—”

“so?” he smirked. “i bet you’re a good dancer. with all that rich people etiquette training, right?”

you rolled your eyes, but your heart was racing when he pulled you closer, one hand settling at your waist.

“if i take you on a real date,” he murmured, “you won’t run off and hide another secret life from me, will you?”

you laughed softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “no more secrets. promise.”

reo grinned, spinning you under the city lights. “good. because i’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”

[worldingjevil]

alright everyone

I have a really REALLY stupid next life series idea

behold my magnum opus

credit: HelloMyNameIsRosie on Pinterest

so basically what im thinking is the lifers do one of two things

a. they go through each life series and count up the crimes (or get someone else to do it that’s a lot of work)

b. they send out a poll to rank the lifers on how illegal their series actions are

the more crimes youve committed in previous series’s the less lives you start with and a random person each session becomes the boogeyman but if they get caught by a red name they switch lives with them

and if we wanna go a layer deeper they could have each session count for crimes a different series so session 1 is 3rd Life crimes session 2 is last life crimes so at the start of the series everyone’s best season is used, past the first they will gain a life if they weren’t too naughty during the corresponding session and lose one if they were (the losing part does not apply to reds obviously)

people like cleo and Joel are not gonna have a fun time

is this not peak?

I’ll add more ideas as I think of/find them