#to show how deeply vulnerable he is in this moment

[missarchive]

american jesus ☆

spencer reid

summary; What starts as a seemingly innocent exchange quickly escalates into a game of trust, control, and desire. Spencer offers you more than just financial stability; he gives you attention, adoration, and a connection so intimate it leaves you breathless. From whispered words over the phone to moments of vulnerability, he knows exactly how to unravel you, guiding you to discover sides of yourself you never knew existed.

But with every dollar he deposits into your account and every command that leaves his lips, the boundaries between professionalism and pleasure blur. As you dive deeper into this intoxicating arrangement, you can’t help but wonder: are you just another outlet for his control, or has this brilliant man fallen for you just as deeply as you’ve begun to fall for him?

cw; +18 minors dni, masturbation (f), hints at masturbation (m), nudes, spencer calls reader "little girl" once, phone sex, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, inexperienced reader, pleasure dom spencer, fingering, dirty talk

an; this is the first part in my new series! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated. P.s. this is written with jesus reid in mind <3 xoxo

The idea had been absurd from the beginning—a drunken suggestion tossed out during a late-night study break, your friend’s cheeks flushed from the cheap wine you’d both been sipping.

“You should totally do it,” she’d said, her voice a mix of mischief and daring as she scrolled through her phone. “It’s not like you have to… do anything. Just talk. Flirt a little. Get someone to pay for your coffee—or your rent. What’s the harm?”

You’d laughed it off then, brushing aside her suggestion with a half-hearted joke about the kind of people who used those sites. But now, with your landlord’s polite but insistent emails piling up, along with the crushing weight of tuition bills and credit card debt, her words didn’t seem so laughable.

Desperation, you’d learned, had a way of reshaping your boundaries.

So, against every instinct that told you to slam the laptop shut and find another way, you clicked the link she’d jokingly sent that night.

The homepage was a garish blend of pink and gold, its polished glamour doing little to mask the transactional nature of it all. The tagline—"Where connections are made"—was a cruel euphemism for what this really was: a marketplace. A place where companionship, or at least the illusion of it, had a price tag.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time before you finally typed in a username: laceandliterature.

The flood of messages came almost instantly.

@ hungandrich; Hey, beautiful 😘

@ olderseekingyounger; I can show you the world 🌍💎

@ MrNaughty4U; $5k a week to be my princess. No strings attached 💵

It was overwhelming, a cascade of propositions ranging from saccharine to predatory. Some were masked in politeness, others made no effort to conceal their intentions. Your stomach churned as you skimmed through them, the realisation sinking in that you were just another product on a shelf.

And then, just as you were about to close the browser and pretend this had never happened, a new message pinged.

It was short, direct—refreshingly so:

[new chat from: @ thefourthdoctor]

@ thefourthdoctor; Intriguing profile. Shall we talk?

No emojis, no extravagant promises. Just a simple, confident statement.

You hesitated, your heart racing as you clicked on the profile. The picture was blurry, as if taken in haste, but it revealed enough: dark, wavy hair that framed sharp, intelligent eyes behind a pair of glasses. His bio was sparse but intriguing, mentioning books, travel, and a keen interest in "meaningful conversations."

Something about it—about him—felt different. Not just the lack of overtly transactional language, but the quiet assurance in his words.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

This was a bad idea. You knew it was a bad idea. But against your better judgment, you typed out a response.

@ laceandliterature; I suppose that depends on what you want to talk about.

The reply came almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting.

@ thefourthdoctor; Anything but the obvious.

The words were simple, but the subtext was unmistakable: he wasn’t here for what everyone else seemed to want. Or maybe he was just better at hiding it. No sleazy innuendos. No dick pics. No hollow promises of private jets or weekend getaways. Not even the tired clichés of "Hey, gorgeous" or “What’s your body count?”—just a question.

It was startling in its simplicity, almost disarming. And for that exact reason, it made you pause. The absence of the usual vulgarity felt almost like a trick, a trap designed to lure you into a false sense of security. You had learned the hard way to be cautious online. Yet, despite yourself, you couldn’t help but be intrigued.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you glanced at his username again.

A click brought up his profile, your curiosity outweighing your skepticism. The photo was blurry, clearly taken without much thought to lighting or angles. It wasn’t like the polished, professional headshots some of the other profiles sported. Still, you could make out the basics: slightly messy, long curly dark hair, intelligent eyes framed by glasses, and an awkward sort of handsomeness that felt... real.

The bio was brief—almost frustratingly so.

"Bibliophile. Traveler. Interested in meaningful conversations and unconventional connections."

It lacked the arrogance and ostentation of the others you’d scrolled past, the ones who listed their wealth or their penchant for “petite brunettes.” Instead, it was vague, yet oddly specific in its sincerity.

Your chest tightened, a strange mix of apprehension and curiosity tugging at you. Was this calculated, or was it simply honest? And why did it feel more dangerous than the others?

Still, you typed.

Your heartbeat quickened as you debated your next move. The smart thing would be to leave it at that, maybe even block him. After all, you weren’t here for emotional entanglements. This was supposed to be transactional—a simple trade: your time and charm for their money and attention. A means to an end.

Yet, against your better judgment, you stayed.

@ laceandliterature; The obvious is easier to avoid than you think, but meaningful conversations? That’s a tall order here.

There was a long pause, long enough that you started to wonder if you’d misjudged him. But then, the reply came:

@ thefourthdoctor; It depends on who you’re talking to.

You stared at the screen, the simplicity of his words sending a ripple of unease through you. There was no bravado, no performance. He was direct, confident, and—most dangerously—intriguing.

The seconds stretched into minutes as you debated what to say next. This was different from the other messages. He wasn’t dangling wealth in front of you like a shiny object or trying to buy your interest with empty promises.

And yet, the very absence of those things made you wonder what he wanted. Because he wanted something—everyone on this site did. That was the nature of it.

@ laceandliterature; Okay. What do you want to talk about?

His reply was immediate, as if he’d been waiting for you to ask:

@ thefourthdoctor; Tell me what brought you here.

The question hit like a dart, sharp and precise. Your stomach tightened as you read it again, the blunt honesty of it stripping away the thin veil you’d been hiding behind. No one had asked that before—not like this.

Most of the messages you’d received had operated on unspoken rules: you pretend this is normal, and they pretend they’re just being generous. But this man wasn’t pretending. He was asking you to be real in a space built on pretense.

And for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you felt compelled to answer.

Your fingers trembled slightly over the keyboard. What could you even say? The truth? That you were drowning under the weight of your bills, your student loans, your own stubborn pride? That desperation had led you here, to a website where relationships had price tags and intimacy was commodified?

But what stopped you wasn’t the shame of your situation—it was him. The way he asked, as if the answer mattered. As if you mattered.

The tension in your chest twisted tighter as you typed.

@ laceandliterature; The same thing that brings everyone here, I suppose. Necessity.

You hit send before you could overthink it, before you could soften the edges of the truth. The reply came quickly.

@ thefourthdoctor; Necessity takes many forms. Which is yours?

You stared at the screen, his words pulling something loose inside you. This wasn’t idle curiosity. He was pushing you, peeling back the layers you hadn’t even realized you were wearing. And damn it, you wanted to push back.

@ laceandliterature; Does it matter?

You wrote, the edge in your tone slipping into the words.

The pause before his reply was longer this time, long enough to make you wonder if you’d misstepped. But then it came, and it was nothing you expected.

@ thefourthdoctor; It matters if you want it to.

The simplicity of his words sent a jolt through you, more potent than any overture of wealth or charm could have been. There was no condescension, no judgment. Just quiet, unnerving confidence.

You leaned back in your chair, running a hand through your hair. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. These conversations were supposed to be easy—shallow exchanges where you could slip into a version of yourself that didn’t feel the weight of real life pressing down on her. But with him, there was no slipping into anything.

He wasn’t letting you.

@ laceandliterature; What about you?

You typed, throwing the question back at him, daring him to offer you the same vulnerability he was asking of you. 

@ laceandliterature; Why are you here?

His reply was immediate, almost as if he’d been expecting the question.

@ thefourthdoctor; Curiosity.

You frowned at the screen, the single word both frustrating and enticing. It was vague but deliberate, leaving just enough room for interpretation to keep you hooked.

@ laceandliterature; Curiosity about what? 

The next message sent a shiver through you:

@ thefourthdoctor; You.

Your breath caught. One word, and yet it felt like he’d reached through the screen, pulling you closer, tethering you to him in a way that was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

You hesitated, the heat rising in your cheeks as you considered how to respond. This wasn’t the typical transactional banter you’d anticipated when you signed up. He wasn’t offering money or promises of luxury. He wasn’t trying to seduce you with extravagance. Instead, he was drawing you in with something far more dangerous: attention.

And the worst part? You wanted it.

@ laceandliterature; Careful. That kind of curiosity can be expensive.

This time, the pause felt deliberate, a beat of silence meant to let your words settle. When his reply came, it was sharp, confident, and devastatingly effective.

@ thefourthdoctor; I don’t mind paying for what I value. Isn’t that what this is about, anyway?

Your breath hitched, the implications of his words hitting you like a shockwave. This wasn’t flirtation—it was a proposition. But not the kind you’d grown to expect on this site. He wasn’t offering to buy your time or affection outright; he was telling you that he saw something in you worth pursuing.

And that made him infinitely more dangerous.

Your heart raced as you stared at the screen, torn between the instinct to pull back and the magnetic pull of his presence. This wasn’t just about money anymore. This was about control, power, the careful dance of who would give and who would take.

You sat frozen, his last message glowing on the screen like an unspoken dare.

"I don’t mind paying for what I value."

The words reverberated through you, sharp and calculated, leaving no room for misinterpretation. This wasn’t a line meant to charm or impress. It was a statement of intent—a declaration of control.

And it was working.

Your chest tightened as you typed, your fingers moving before your brain caught up.

@ laceandliterature; Value is subjective.

The moment you hit send, you regretted it. It felt flippant, like you were trying to undermine the weight of his words. But maybe that was exactly what you needed to do—to wrest back some semblance of control in this conversation that was starting to feel far too intimate.

The reply came after a pause that felt excruciatingly long:

@ thefourthdoctor; It is. But I’m a man who knows how to discern.

Your throat tightened, the confidence in his words striking a chord deep within you. He wasn’t just playing the game—he was setting the rules. And despite yourself, you found it maddeningly enticing.

@ laceandliterature; Discernment is rare here. 

You replied, leaning into the dynamic, testing the boundaries of this strange connection.

His next message came faster this time, as if he’d been waiting for you to lean in:

@ thefourthdoctor; So is honesty. Tell me, how rare are you?

Your breath hitched, your cheeks flushing as you stared at the question. It wasn’t what you expected—not here, not from someone you’d never met. And yet, it was the kind of question you couldn’t dismiss with a coy quip or vague answer.

@ laceandliterature; Enough to know my worth. 

You typed, surprising even yourself with the boldness of your response.

His reply came swiftly.

@ thefourthdoctor; Good. Then you’ll understand why I won’t insult you with empty offers. Tell me what you want.

Your pulse quickened. There it was—the shift you’d been waiting for, the moment the conversation turned from hypothetical to concrete. But this was different from the others. He wasn’t throwing numbers at you, wasn’t dangling luxury in front of you like bait. He was putting the power in your hands, asking you to decide the terms.

It was intoxicating. And terrifying.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. What did you want? Money was the obvious answer—wasn’t it? That was why you were here in the first place. But now, with him, it didn’t feel so simple.

@ laceandliterature; That depends… What are you offering?

The pause before his response was agonizing, each second stretching longer than the last. And then it came:

@ thefourthdoctor; Time. Money. Attention. Answers, if you’re brave enough to ask the right questions.

Your breath caught, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy cloak. He wasn’t offering material things, at least not yet. He was offering something far more valuable—and far more dangerous.

You swallowed hard, your palms damp as you considered your next move. He’d shifted the power dynamic yet again, pulling you deeper into a game you weren’t entirely sure you knew how to play.

@ laceandliterature; And what do you want in return?

The question leaving you more vulnerable than you cared to admit.

His response was immediate, his words a quiet, commanding echo in your mind:

@ thefourthdoctor; Exactly what you’re willing to give me.

The simplicity of his answer hit you harder than any declaration of wealth or desire could have. It wasn’t just about money or power or control—it was about you. Your choices, your limits, your willingness to engage in this careful, intoxicating dance.

And that realisation sent a shiver down your spine.

For a moment, you stared at the screen, your pulse thrumming in your ears. You could walk away now. Close the laptop, block his profile, and pretend this never happened. But the truth was, you didn’t want to.

Because for the first time since you’d joined this site, you felt seen. Not as an object, not as a commodity, but as a person.

His words clung to you, each syllable daring you to define what you were prepared to offer. He was turning the mirror back on you, forcing you to confront not just the situation but yourself.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of how to proceed. He wasn’t playing by the rules you expected, and that made him unpredictable. Dangerous. But it also made him irresistible.

@ laceandliterature; That’s a clever way of saying nothing. Ambiguity suits you.

The reply came quickly, almost as if he’d anticipated your deflection.

@ thefourthdoctor; Clarity can be earned, if you’re willing to play the game.

Your breath hitched. There it was again—that quiet, assured confidence that pulled you in despite every warning bell ringing in your head. He wasn’t offering platitudes or empty promises. He was offering a challenge, one that was as maddening as it was magnetic.

@ laceandliterature; And what game is that? 

The pause before his answer felt deliberate, a calculated silence that only heightened your anticipation. When his message finally appeared, it sent a shiver through you:

@ laceandliterature; The one we’re already playing. You just haven’t realised it yet.

Your pulse quickened, your palms damp as you stared at the screen. He was toying with you, but not in the way you’d experienced before. This wasn’t about cheap thrills or transparent power plays. This was about control—subtle, seductive, and entirely in his hands.

@ laceandliterature; I don’t recall agreeing to any rules. 

The sharpness of your words masking the unease curling in your chest.

His reply was swift, the confidence in his words cutting through the haze of your thoughts:

@ thefourthdoctor; You didn’t have to. You agreed the moment you responded.

The audacity of his statement left you momentarily breathless. He was right, of course, and that infuriated you. But it also thrilled you in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

@ laceandliterature; You’re awfully sure of yourself

You shot back, your fingers trembling as you hit send. The response came almost immediately.

@ thefourthdoctor; Confidence is the privilege of knowing what you want. Do you?

Your chest tightened, his words striking a nerve you hadn’t expected. What did you want? It was supposed to be simple—a means to an end, a way to solve your financial problems without complicating your life. But now, with him, it felt far from simple.

You hesitated, your mind racing. This wasn’t like the other conversations you’d had on this site. He wasn’t just offering money or gifts; he was offering an exchange of a different kind. One that blurred the lines between power and vulnerability, control and surrender.

@ laceandliterature; I think you already know the answer.

@ thefourthdoctor; Good. Then we’re getting somewhere.

You exhaled sharply, the tension in your chest both exhilarating and suffocating. He had you cornered, and he knew it. But the worst part? You didn’t want to leave.

@ laceandliterature; And where exactly is that? 

The question both a challenge and a plea. His response sent a chill down your spine.

@ thefourthdoctor; Where we figure out if you’re ready to trust me.

The weight of his words settled over you, heavy and inescapable. Trust. It was a loaded word, especially here, in a space where every interaction felt transactional. But with him, it didn’t feel like a demand—it felt like an invitation.

You swallowed hard, your fingers trembling as you typed your response:

@ laceandliterature; Trust is earned, Doctor. How do you plan on earning mine?

The pause before his reply was excruciating, every second stretching longer than the last. And then, finally, his message appeared. 

@ thefourthdoctor; Patience. Honesty. And just enough mystery to keep you coming back.

Your breath caught, the sheer confidence of his words leaving you momentarily speechless. He wasn’t just playing the game—he was rewriting the rules, pulling you deeper into his orbit with every word.

And despite the warning bells ringing in your head, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting more.

@ laceandliterature; Then I suppose we’ll see how well you play. 

@ thefourthdoctor; We already are.

The message lingered on the screen, a challenge and a promise all at once. And as you stared at it, your heart racing and your mind spinning, one thing became clear:

Here’s the continuation, intensifying the emotional and psychological stakes, as well as the power dynamics:

You could feel it in the way your heart raced, in the way your mind struggled to pull together coherent thoughts. It was maddening. Dangerous. And yet, some part of you craved the thrill of it.

@ laceandliterature; What makes you so sure of that?

@ thefourthdoctor; Because you’re still here.

Your lips parted in a soft exhale, the truth in his words sending a shiver down your spine. He was right—you were still here, still engaged, still drawn to him in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

@ laceandliterature; Maybe I’m just curious.

His response was immediate, his confidence unshaken.

@ thefourthdoctor; Curiosity is the first step to surrender. And you’re closer than you think.

Your pulse quickened, his words striking a nerve you hadn’t realized was exposed. Surrender. The word hung there, heavy and intoxicating, pulling you deeper into his web.

@ laceandliterature; Surrender isn’t in my vocabulary. 

The sharpness of your reply more for your benefit than his.

@ thefourthdoctor; That’s because no one’s ever taught you how to do it properly.

The breath left your lungs in a quiet rush, your body betraying you with a thrill that raced down your spine. He wasn’t just confident—he was audacious, pushing boundaries you didn’t even know you had.

@ laceandliterature; And you think you’re the one to teach me?

@ thefourthdoctor; I know I am.

Your throat tightened, his certainty pulling you further into the undertow. There was no pretence with him, no fumbling for the right words to impress or seduce. He spoke with a quiet authority that was impossible to ignore—and even harder to resist.

@ laceandliterature; You’re awfully sure of yourself, Doctor.

You wrote, the name a deliberate choice, a way to remind yourself that he was still just a man on the other side of a screen.

But his next message stripped away any illusion of simplicity.

@ thefourthdoctor; Confidence is earned. You’ll see.

The promise in his words sent your mind reeling, the tension in your chest building with every passing second. He wasn’t offering wealth or gifts or superficial praise. He was offering himself—his attention, his intellect, his dominance—and it was unlike anything you’d ever encountered.

You leaned back in your chair, running a hand through your hair as you tried to steady your breathing. This wasn’t just a game anymore. It was a collision of wills, a power struggle where the stakes felt dangerously personal.

@ laceandliterature; And if I decide to stop playing? 

His reply came slower this time, each word calculated, precise.

@ thefourthdoctor; Then I’ll let you go. But we both know you won’t.

Your breath caught, the quiet confidence in his message leaving you stunned. He wasn’t trying to trap you—he was daring you to walk away. And that made him even more dangerous.

@ laceandliterature; You seem very sure of my choices

@ thefourthdoctor; I’m sure of your curiosity. And that’s enough.

You stared at the screen, your heart pounding, your mind spinning. He was right—you were curious. About him, about this, about where it could lead. And that curiosity was already pulling you deeper, binding you to him in a way that felt both thrilling and terrifying.

And as you sat there, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, one thought echoed in your mind:

You weren’t just playing his game anymore.

You were losing.

His words were a masterstroke, the kind of deliberate confidence that didn’t demand submission but invited it, coaxed it out of you with unsettling precision. He wasn’t forcing you into anything. He didn’t have to.

You were leaning in all on your own.

@ laceandliterature; Curiosity is dangerous. 

The words meant as both a warning and a defense. You weren’t sure if you were telling him or reminding yourself.

His reply came almost instantly, as if he’d anticipated your hesitation.

@ thefourthdoctor; It can be, in the wrong hands. But I think you know by now—I don’t intend to hurt you.

Your chest tightened, the unexpected gentleness in his response catching you off guard. It wasn’t a dismissal of your fears; it was an acknowledgment, a reassurance that felt disarmingly genuine.

@ laceandliterature; What do you intend to do, then? 

The pause before his reply was deliberate, stretching just long enough to heighten the tension without breaking it.

@ thefourthdoctor; Challenge you. Teach you. Protect you, if you let me.

Your breath hitched, his words striking a chord deep within you. The power in his offer wasn’t in its force but in its certainty, its quiet promise of control without cruelty, dominance without destruction.

@ laceandliterature; That’s a tall order.

@ thefourthdoctor; I’ve never been afraid of a challenge.

The simplicity of his answer left you momentarily stunned. He wasn’t boasting, wasn’t trying to impress you. He was stating a fact, one that resonated with an authority you couldn’t ignore.

@ laceandliterature; And what do you get out of this?

@ thefourthdoctor; The pleasure of watching you grow. The satisfaction of knowing you’re safe. And maybe, if you’re willing, a connection worth more than either of us expected.

Your chest tightened, his words threading through the cracks in your defences with startling ease. He wasn’t just offering a transaction; he was offering something far deeper, something that terrified and intrigued you in equal measure.

@ laceandliterature; You make it sound so simple.

@ thefourthdoctor; It can be, if you trust me. But I won’t rush you. This is your choice.

Your breath caught, the weight of his words settling over you. He wasn’t demanding anything from you, wasn’t using manipulation or coercion. He was giving you the space to decide, to choose whether to step into the unknown or retreat to the safety of your walls.

@ laceandliterature; What if I don’t know how to trust someone like you?

@ thefourthdoctor; Then I’ll show you how, baby. Step by step. But only if you’re willing.

The kindness in his words was a stark contrast to the intensity of his presence, a reminder that his control wasn’t about overpowering you—it was about guiding you, supporting you, meeting you where you were and pulling you gently forward.

@ laceandliterature; And if I’m not?

@ thefourthdoctor; Then I’ll let you go. But I don’t think you want me to.

The truth in his words hit you like a jolt, your heart racing as you stared at the screen. He was right—you didn’t want to let him go. You didn’t want to retreat into the safety of solitude, not when he was offering something so intoxicatingly rare.

@ laceandliterature; You’re very sure of yourself

@ thefourthdoctor; I’m sure of you. And I’m willing to wait until you are too.

The words lingered on the screen, a challenge and a reassurance all at once. He wasn’t just pulling you into his world—he was offering to walk beside you, to guide you through the uncharted territory of trust and surrender.

And as you stared at his message, your pulse thrumming in your ears, one thing became abundantly clear. You wanted to see where this could lead.

Your fingers trembled as you typed your reply.

@ laceandliterature; I don’t know where this is going.

His response came swiftly, his dominance tempered by kindness:

@ thefourthdoctor; Then let me be the one to show you. One step at a time.

When the evening settled and the quiet of your room enveloped you, you found yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone. His last message still lingered there:

"Then let me be the one to show you. One step at a time."

Trust. The word had seemed so monumental when he’d said it, and now it felt even heavier in the quiet intimacy of your room.

Your eyes wandered to the package on your desk, the one that had arrived just days ago. The lingerie you’d bought with the money he’d sent—not something you’d ever imagined doing, much less showing anyone. But his insistence had stayed with you.

"This is for you," he’d written. "Because you deserve to feel special."

You’d laughed at the time, unsure how to process the sincerity in his words. But now, with the soft lace spread out in front of you, you felt the weight of his kindness.

On impulse, you slipped it on, the delicate fabric hugging your body in a way that felt both indulgent and empowering. It wasn’t something you’d ever have bought for yourself, but now, wearing it, you understood the quiet confidence it offered.

You caught your reflection in the mirror, your cheeks flushing as you adjusted the straps. The blush-colored lace was intricate and feminine, the perfect balance of modesty and allure. You hesitated, biting your lip as your phone buzzed in your hand.

Finally, you snapped a photo—nothing overly revealing, just the curve of your body hinted at in the soft light, the lace framing your figure. It felt daring, intimate, and, most of all, you felt like his.

With a shaky breath, you typed a caption for the image. 

@ laceandliterature; Thank you. I thought you should see where your funds are going.

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, your heart racing as the message left your screen.

@ thefourthdoctor; You’re so beautiful, my little angel.

Your breath caught at the simplicity of his words. There was no embellishment, no flourish—just a quiet, sincere acknowledgment that made your chest tighten.

Another message followed, slower this time, as if he’d chosen each word carefully.

@ thefourthdoctor; Thank you for trusting me with this. How does it make you feel?

His question sent a ripple of warmth through you. He wasn’t just admiring you; he cared about how you felt, ensuring that this moment wasn’t just for him.

@ laceandliterature; It feels… different. In a good way.

The dots danced on the screen before his next message appeared.

@ thefourthdoctor; Good. That’s exactly how it should feel. You deserve to feel confident and cared for.

You smiled despite yourself, the warmth of his words cutting through the lingering nerves. He had a way of making you feel seen, like every action, every choice you made mattered to him.

@ laceandliterature; I wasn’t sure about sending it, I’ve never done anything like that before.

You admitted, your honesty surprising even you.

@ thefourthdoctor; You don’t need to worry. You’re safe with me. Always.

The reassurance in his words settled something deep inside you. He wasn’t just saying it—he meant it, every word carrying the weight of his sincerity.

Before you could respond, your phone vibrated in your hand, his name lighting up the screen. You hadn't expected him to call so soon, but the smile that spread across your face at the sight of his name felt entirely natural.

Your throat pinched, the air suddenly feeling all too warm. Neither of you had ever initiated a call before, what would he sound like? Deciding to push your nerves to the side, you answer the call.

"I was thinking you might not pick up for a moment there," his voice was low and smooth, a hint of amusement dancing through his words. "I hope you know this isn’t just about the photo. It’s about you. What you need, what you want. If you’re ever unsure, tell me. I’ll always listen."

"I guess I just couldn’t help myself," you teased, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks at the memory of how vulnerable you'd felt.

"Yeah? Am I living up to the expectation?" he murmured, and you could hear the laughter in his voice. It wasn’t a mocking sort of amusement, just a quiet acknowledgment that you both knew where this conversation was heading. And that, he hoped, neither one of you would shy away from it.

You laughed, a softness you'd never known you were capable of settling into your chest. There had been something so unexpectedly freeing about the experience—about wearing it made you flush with warmth.

“You could say that…”

“What were you hoping for, when you sent me that photo?”

The thought sent an immediate ache through your body, the suggestion of his touch, of the things he might do to you, sending a wave of desire through you. Your mind raced with images of “him” above you, of his hands pinning your wrists to the bed as he thrust into you. The thought was enough to make you flush, the ache of need between your legs becoming almost unbearable.

"Nothing.” You couldn’t even pretend to feign nonchalance when his words had been so unflinchingly honest, when the promise of what lay ahead was so tantalisingly clear.

"I’ll make it easier for you, then. What are you thinking about right now?" he said bluntly, his words sending a rush of heat through your entire body. There was nothing ambiguous or hesitant about his command; he wanted this, and he expected you to do it. "Tell me what you want, angel. I can give you that."

You twist the fabric hem of the lingerie around your fingers nervously, chewing at the dry skin on the edge of your lips. “I- I don’t know how to do this.” 

He chuckles softly, voice still full of kindness. “Then you don’t have to do anything, let me do all the work, baby.”

You’re quiet for a moment, pondering your options. Before nodding to yourself, deciding you’d have to let go of your nerves for the time being if you wanted this to continue.

“Okay.” You whisper, almost inaudibly. He wouldn’t have been able to hear it if he’d not been paying such close attention.

You took a deep breath, feeling a surge of boldness. "I... I've always had this fantasy of being guided by a man... someone who knows what he wants and can show me new pleasures. I’ve never had that chance before… I was hoping maybe that could be you."

"Oh, angel, you have no idea how much I want to fulfil those desires," He purred. "I can be your guide, your teacher, and your lover all in one."

His words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you felt your core tighten with anticipation. "I... I think I'd like that very much."

"I want you to relax and get comfortable for me, can you do that, baby?. Dim the lights, light a candle, whatever you need to do."

Obeying his instructions, you lit a scented candle, filling the room with a soft, flickering glow and a hint of vanilla. You kicked off your shoes and slid under the covers, your heart pounding in your chest.

"That's it, sweet girl," He whispered. "Now, I want you to imagine my hands on your body, caressing your skin, exploring every inch of you. Feel my touch, soft and gentle, as I trace your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts."

As you listened, you closed your eyes, visualising his strong, masculine hands on your body. You imagined his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipples, causing them to harden in response. Soft whimpers escaping your lips as you reach up to cup your breasts, mimicking his touch.

"That's right, angel," he encouraged. "Touch yourself for me. Feel how soft you are, how sweet.”

Your fingers obeyed, teasing your nipples, rolling and tugging at the sensitive peaks. You arched your back, pressing your breasts into your palms, and let out a soft cry of pleasure.

"Do you like that, little girl?" He asked, his voice thick with desire. "I wish you could see what you do to me."

"Yes, Doctor," you breathed, your voice heavy with arousal. “It feels so good."

"Now, slide your hand down your stomach, past your navel, and into the heat between your thighs," he instructed, his voice a seductive command. "Feel how wet you are for me, how your body responds to my words."

Your hand trembled as you obeyed, slipping beneath the covers and finding your way to your core. Your fingers brushed against your wet folds, and you gasped at the sensation.

"Oh, god, baby. You're so wet, aren’t you? I can hear it," He growled. "Rub your fingers along your pussy, coat them with your sweetness.”

You did as he said, moaning as your fingers slipped into your tight cunt. You were so wet, so ready, and the sensation of filling yourself sent waves of pleasure through your body. Taking the phone down your body, you hold it in front of your dripping pussy. Your microphone picking up on the sounds as your fingers slip through your folds.

"What a noisy fucking pussy, that's it, that's my girl," he encouraged. "Fuck yourself with your fingers, slowly at first, imagine it's my cock inside you, claiming your tight little cunt."

Your fingers moved in and out, your pace increasing as your pleasure spiralled. You imagined Spencer's thick, hard length filling you, his powerful body driving into yours.

"Yeah, fuck yourself for me," he urged. "Let go, angel girl. Come for me, and let me hear your sweet cries."

Your fingers worked frantically, your body on the brink of ecstasy. His words, his deep, commanding voice, pushed you over the edge. With a cry of release, you climaxed, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you.

"Oh, my sweet girl," he whispered, whispering soft praise over the phone, his voice filled with satisfaction. "That sounded like a lot, hm? You still with me, beautiful?."

"I know that wasn’t easy for you, but it was beautiful to hear." His voice was soft, filled with sincerity. 

You lay there, breathless and sated, your body still humming with pleasure. "Y-yeah, m still here. Thank you."

"You did so good, such a well behaved girl. Check your phone for me, baby. Look what you did to me."

You froze for a moment, your mind struggling to process exactly what you were looking at. And then it registered—the smooth skin of his stomach, the slight curve of his hip. A moment later, you saw it; his cock, flushed pink tip, half-hard and resting against his stomach. A small pool of cum rested near his belly button.. You flushed all over at the thought, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the photo. There was something so undeniably intimate about the image; something that spoke to the fact that he'd been pleasuring himself while thinking of you.

With a final, breathless goodbye, you end the call. Your heart is still racing, your body tingling with the lingering aftershocks of pleasure. His voice still echoes in your ears, warm and commanding, and the weight of his presence seems to fill the room even though he's no longer on the line. You lean back against the soft cushions on your bed, eyes fluttering closed, letting the soft glow of the lamp wash over you.

You let out a slow exhale, your chest rising and falling in rhythm with the buzz still pulsing beneath your skin. There’s something thrilling, intoxicating about the way he’s able to draw you out, make you vulnerable and yet so sure of yourself all at once. But the moment feels almost too surreal, too indulgent, and you try to calm your racing thoughts when a ping breaks through the haze of your afterglow.

You glance down at your phone, blinking at the notification that has just popped up.

$500 has been deposited into your account.

-for my pretty girl

Your breath catches in your throat as your fingers instinctively swipe open the message. You freeze, your eyes scanning the details with a quickness that betrays your curiosity.

"Doctor Reid," it reads, alongside the substantial amount.

For a moment, time seems to stop, your gaze fixed on the screen as your pulse quickens once more. The money sits there, cool and impersonal, yet its presence is anything but. It’s a gesture—one that feels undeniably generous, but also loaded with unspoken meaning. This isn’t just a transaction. This is him, and everything that came with the promise of his control, his attention, his care.

You’ve known that he was willing to give, but this—this feels different. The amount is so much more than what you’d expected. What did he mean by it? What does he expect now?

You glance at the digits one more time, the weight of his name anchoring the moment. It feels strange to see it. So he was a doctor. 

A tight knot forms in your chest, mixing nerves with something else—something like desire, maybe even gratitude. You bite your lip, unsure how to feel. It was just a phone call, just a moment of shared vulnerability between you. Yet the fact that he’s followed through with this kind of gesture makes everything feel so much more real, so much more complicated.

With a heavy sigh, you set your phone down and run your fingers through your hair, your mind racing as you try to reconcile the thrill of the moment with the heavy responsibility that now feels like it’s creeping in.

At least now you had his name, Doctor Reid.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[gothicxreylover]

Can you do a Yandere male hashiras coming home and meeting their s/o distraught and crying cause they thought they were dead. Maybe they were gone for 4 or 7 months.

╭──────༺♡༻──────╮

Hope you enjoy this! Thank you for your request! As you can tell I’m running out of gifs for these characters lol. I didn’t do Muichiro as I didn’t know what to write for him. And no headcanons for Obanai I only had motivation to do a small story.

╰──────༺♡༻──────╯

જ⁀➴ Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi storms into your home just before nightfall, his haori tattered, his arms and legs covered in bandages. His survival is a miracle, but he doesn’t consider how his prolonged absence has affected you. He barely has time to set down his sword before he hears your choked sobs. Following the sound, he freezes when he sees you sitting on the floor, your face buried in your hands.

When you lift your head, your red, swollen eyes meet his. “Sanemi… is it really you?” you whisper, your voice trembling with disbelief. He doesn’t answer at first. He’s too overwhelmed by the sight of you like this—frail, broken, crying because of him.

“You’re such a damn idiot,” he growls, though the anger in his voice is directed at himself. He strides forward and pulls you to your feet, his grip firm but not unkind. “What the hell made you think I’d leave you like that? You think I’d let myself die knowing you’re waiting here for me?”

Your tears don’t stop, and neither does his frantic need to reassure you. Sanemi holds you close, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You’re mine, and nothing in this world can take me away from you.” His voice shakes, his usual harshness softened by a vulnerability he rarely shows.

Headcanons:

• Sanemi becomes obsessive about keeping you informed when he’s on missions. If he’s going to be late returning, he’ll send messages through crow, no matter how inconvenient it is.

• He becomes hyper-vigilant about your safety, rarely letting you leave the house without him.

• His possessiveness worsens after this, and he gets irritated when others try to console you. Only he can comfort you properly.

જ⁀➴ Giyuu Tomioka

Giyuu enters silently, as is his nature, his footsteps almost imperceptible. When he sees you trembling on the floor, clutching one of his old haoris like a lifeline, his chest tightens painfully. “You’re back,” you gasp when you notice him, stumbling to your feet and throwing yourself into his arms.

Giyuu stiffens at first, not out of reluctance but because of how deeply your pain affects him. “I thought you were gone,” you sob against his chest. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

His arms wrap around you slowly, his hold growing firmer with each passing second. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to make you think that.” His guilt is overwhelming. He didn’t realize how much his absence would hurt you, but now that he sees the aftermath, he swears he’ll never put you through it again.

“I’ll never leave you,” he says, his tone as unyielding as steel. He cradles your face in his hands, his eyes filled with an intensity that borders on obsession. “You’re all I have, and I won’t let anything take me from you.”

Headcanons:

• Giyuu starts writing you letters during long missions, even if he doesn’t know how to express his feelings well.

• He insists on you staying close to home, where he knows you’re safe. If you have to leave, he’ll silently follow you from the shadows.

• He becomes clingier in subtle ways, often lingering around you without saying much but refusing to leave your side.

જ⁀➴ Kyojuro Rengoku

The sound of your crying reaches Kyojuro before he even steps inside. His heart, usually blazing with confidence, falters for a moment. When he enters the room and sees you kneeling by the hearth, your face buried in your hands, he rushes to your side without hesitation.

“My love, what’s wrong?” he asks, though the answer becomes clear when you lift your tear-streaked face. “I thought I lost you, Kyojuro. Seven months… no word… I thought you were dead!”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he’s silent. Then, he pulls you into a fierce embrace, his strong arms enveloping you entirely. “I am so sorry,” he whispers, his usually booming voice trembling. “I didn’t realize how much my absence would hurt you.”

Kyojuro tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, his fiery eyes burning with a mix of guilt and determination. “I am alive, and I will always come back to you. You are the flame that keeps me going.” His voice is full of conviction, a promise etched in every word.

Headcanons:

• Kyojuro starts planning shorter missions or taking you along to nearby towns when possible.

• He showers you with small tokens of affection, from flowers to handmade charms, to remind you of him when he’s away.

• His protective streak intensifies, and he begins training you in basic self-defense, even if you protest.

જ⁀➴ Gyomei Himejima

Gyomei hears your quiet sobs as soon as he steps onto the porch. His sensitive hearing and heightened senses pick up every tremble in your voice, and it stops him in his tracks. “(Y/N)?” he calls softly, his deep voice filled with concern.

You look up from where you’ve been kneeling, clutching a prayer bead bracelet he once gave you. When you see his towering figure in the doorway, your breath catches, and fresh tears spill down your cheeks. “You’re alive…”

Gyomei kneels before you, his large hands cupping your face with the utmost gentleness. “Why are you crying, my love?” he asks, though the answer dawns on him as he feels your trembling hands grasp his.

“I thought you were gone,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”

His own eyes glisten with unshed tears as he pulls you into his arms, holding you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. “I am here,” he says, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I am alive, and I will always return to you. You are my reason to fight, to survive.”

Headcanons:

• Gyomei begins praying with you every morning and night, offering thanks for your safety and his ability to return to you.

• He becomes even more attentive, often carrying you to bed when you fall asleep in his arms, whispering reassurances.

• He starts wearing charms or tokens you give him, seeing them as symbols of your bond and a source of strength.

જ⁀➴ Tengen Uzui

Tengen bursts through the door, expecting you to greet him with relief and joy, but the sight of you sitting on the floor, tear-streaked and shaking, halts him. “What’s this?” he asks, dropping his flashy façade immediately as he kneels beside you.

“Tengen…” You look at him as though you’re seeing a ghost. “I thought you were dead. Seven months… I thought you weren’t coming back.”

His jaw tightens, and his normally flamboyant expression turns serious. “Do you really think something as unflashy as death could stop me from coming back to you?” he says, his voice lower than usual. He pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on your back as he lets you cry against his chest.

“You mean everything to me,” he says, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “I’ll never let you feel this way again. I’ll find a way to stay connected to you, no matter what it takes.”

Headcanons:

• Tengen insists on keeping you in the loop about his missions, even if it means bending Demon Slayer Corps protocols.

• He becomes more physically affectionate, constantly touching your hand, shoulder, or face as if to reassure himself you’re still there.

• His yandere tendencies manifest in controlling who you interact with, believing only he can truly protect and care for you.

This detailed portrayal highlights each Hashira’s unique reaction to their s/o’s emotional breakdown, showcasing their yandere tendencies in ways that fit their personalities. Each is overwhelmed by guilt but uses that guilt to fuel their determination to never let you feel that kind of despair again.

જ⁀➴ Obanai Iguro

Obanai stepped into the house just as the sun dipped below the horizon, the faint golden glow of dusk casting long shadows across the walls. His footsteps were light and deliberate, but the heaviness in his chest made every step feel like a mountain to climb. Months of hunting down demons, with barely enough time to sleep or recover, had left him drained. Yet, none of that prepared him for what awaited him inside.

The sound of muffled sobbing pierced his senses like a blade. His body went rigid, Kaburamaru tightening slightly around his shoulders as his mismatched eyes flicked toward the sound. He followed it, his pulse quickening with each step.

When he reached the main room, he stopped dead in his tracks. You were kneeling on the floor, clutching one of his discarded haoris to your chest. Your body shook with silent sobs, your face hidden behind trembling hands.

For a moment, Obanai couldn’t move. Seeing you so vulnerable, so broken, stirred something deep within him. Guilt? Pain? Anger? He didn’t know what it was, but the sight of your tears ignited a fierce need to claim you, to ensure no one else would ever make you feel this way—not even the world itself.

“(Y/N),” he finally said, his voice low but steady.

Your sobs stopped abruptly, and you froze, your hands lowering slightly to reveal your tear-streaked face. When your eyes met his, disbelief flooded your expression. “Obanai?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “You’re… you’re alive?”

He tilted his head slightly, Kaburamaru shifting in response to his unease. “Why wouldn’t I be?” His tone was calm, but the undercurrent of possessiveness was unmistakable.

The dam broke, and you stumbled to your feet, throwing yourself into his arms. “I thought… I thought you were dead! Seven months… no word… I thought I lost you!”

Obanai stiffened for a moment before his arms came up to wrap around you. His grip was firm, almost desperate, as if he feared you might vanish if he let go. “I’m here,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “I would never leave you like that. Never.”

Your hands clung to his uniform, your body trembling against his. “You don’t understand,” you sobbed. “I waited every day, praying you’d come back. When the weeks turned into months, I thought… I thought I’d never see you again.”

His jaw tightened, the words cutting deeper than any wound. The thought of you suffering, believing he was gone, stirred a dark possessiveness within him. He cupped your face, forcing you to look at him, his mismatched eyes blazing with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low and unyielding. “Nothing—no demon, no mission, no god—can take me from you. Do you understand?”

Your tears didn’t stop, but you nodded, overwhelmed by the raw emotion in his gaze. He pressed his forehead to yours, his grip on you tightening. “I’ll never let you feel this way again. Never. I swear it.”

The promise wasn’t just for you—it was for him, a vow that no force in the world would ever separate you again.

[geneviveleocardius]

könig and his way of loving you

but his reserved, shy, original self

könig’s love is gentle, sincere, and wrapped in vulnerability. he’s shy, uncertain, and often overwhelmed by his own emotions. but once he lets you in, his love is unwavering. he’s not one to demand attention or grand gestures, but his care is profound. his protection comes from a quiet, almost innocent place, where he’s constantly trying to balance his own insecurities with his need to keep you safe and cherished.

he’s drawn to your lips—soft, vulnerable, and just the right height for him to brush his own against them. even when you’re not speaking, he feels a pull toward that intimate connection.

könig is hesitant but gradually becomes more comfortable as he grows closer to you. his hands often rest on your arms, your back, or your thighs���places that feel safe and grounding for him. he likes holding your hands, his large, rough hands enveloping yours, as if anchoring himself to you.

his kisses are shy but full of emotion. he starts slow—soft, hesitant, barely brushing against your skin—but the more comfortable he becomes, the more passionate they become. his kisses are often brief, but filled with longing. he’ll often shy away afterward, cheeks flushed, unsure of whether he should have done more.

quality time and physical touch. könig shows his love by being present—whether it’s sitting in silence, holding you close, or simply being near. his touch is gentle, and he’s constantly seeking reassurance that you’re there and you care for him too.

on your period he’s incredibly considerate and sweet. könig doesn’t really know how to navigate these moments at first, but once you show him what helps, he’s attentive. he’ll fetch you whatever you need, hold you close, and make sure you feel comforted. he’s awkward, but deeply caring, always apologizing for not knowing what to do but trying his best anyway.

he’s often flustered when you offer to help. he struggles to balance his pride with the vulnerability he feels when you’re close. you’ll often have to hold his hands or encourage him through workouts, but he’s bashful about it, his large frame trembling slightly with effort and embarrassment. but beneath his shyness, he truly appreciates the support.

his jealousy is quiet and subtle. könig won’t get angry or aggressive, but he’ll withdraw, growing quieter and more distant. he’s afraid of being overlooked or unworthy of your attention, so his jealousy comes from a place of insecurity. he’ll often seek reassurance afterward, quietly asking, “do you still love me?”

only when it comes from fear—fear of losing you. his possessiveness is subtle, almost subconscious. he’ll want to hold you close, subtly leaning over you or resting his hand on your waist when you’re around others, but he’ll never be overtly controlling. his devotion to you is quiet, but it runs deep.

he’s aware of his height, but not in a boastful way. he’ll lean down to speak softly in your ear, his breath warm against your skin, his large hands cupping your face when he kisses you. he likes resting his forehead against yours, seeking closeness without needing to say much.

könig’s mask becomes a barrier that only you can break through. there’s something intimate about the moments when he pulls his mask down, hesitant but craving that connection. his kisses are tender, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches up to touch your face. he feels vulnerable, his shyness amplified, but he trusts you enough to let you see him.

intimacy with könig is slow, deliberate, and filled with quiet intensity. he’s careful not to overwhelm you, but he’s deeply passionate in his own way. he likes to watch you, studying your reactions, always worried he might be too much—but his love is pure and sincere. he prefers soft, lingering touches and quiet whispers.

[starzify]

CROSSFIRE - dean winchester

PAIRING dean x fem!reader

WARNINGS angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, romance

MASTERLIST

The warehouse was suffocatingly quiet, save for the occasional drip of water echoing through the darkness. Dean’s fists were clenched tight as he paced back and forth, boots scuffing against the dusty concrete floor. The blood smeared across his jacket wasn’t his—a fact that should have made him feel relieved. But it didn’t.

It was yours.

You were slumped against the wall, holding a bloodied cloth to the gash on your side, your face pale but determined. The vampire was dead, its decapitated body lying a few feet away. You had seen to that, staking it after it had gotten the drop on Dean.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Dean’s voice cut through the silence, low and gravelly, but laced with a fury that made you flinch.

“Nice to see you’re grateful,” you muttered, wincing as you pressed harder on the wound.

“Grateful? Are you kidding me right now?” He spun to face you, his eyes blazing with an anger that barely concealed the fear beneath. “You jumped in front of me, Y/N! Do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”

“Yeah, Dean. I do,” You snapped, glaring up at him. “You could’ve died. I wasn’t about to let that happen.”

Dean ran a hand down his face, the fight draining out of him for a moment before he slammed his fist into the wall. “Damn it, Y/N! don’t get to make that call!”

You stared at him, stunned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means your life isn’t disposable!” he shouted, his voice cracking at the edges. “You think I can just—” He stopped, turning away from you, his shoulders heaving as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

“You think I can lose you and just walk away like it’s nothing?” He finally said, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “I can’t. I won’t.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the pain in your side suddenly insignificant compared to the ache in your chest. “Dean…”

He turned back to you, and for a moment, he wasn’t the stoic, tough-as-nails hunter you’d always known. He was raw, vulnerable, his green eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I’m not mad because you saved me,” he admitted, stepping closer. “I’m mad because you don’t seem to get how much you mean to me. If anything happened to you…”

“Dean.” Your voice was softer now, but he didn’t stop.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing out there? Throwing yourself into the line of fire every chance you get? Acting like your life doesn’t matter as much as mine?” His jaw tightened. “Well, newsflash, sweetheart—it does. It matters more than anything.”

The air between you grew heavy, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

“No,” Dean said, crouching down in front of you, his hand coming up to rest gently over yours where it pressed against your wound. “Don’t be sorry. Just… don’t do it again. I can’t lose you, Y/N. Not you.”

You swallowed hard, finally looking up to meet his gaze. The intensity there stole your breath, and for the first time, you realized just how deeply his feelings ran.

“I can’t lose you either, Dean,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop, the two of you locked in a silent understanding. Then Dean’s lips quirked up in the faintest of smiles, though his eyes remained serious.

“Well, looks like we’re stuck with each other then,” he said, his tone lighter but still laced with emotion.

“Guess so,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the pain.

But just as he was about to pull back, something in your expression must have given you away—a flicker of vulnerability, of longing you hadn’t meant to show.

Dean froze, his green eyes searching yours as the air grew impossibly still. “Y/N…” he said softly, his voice unsure for the first time.

You didn’t give yourself time to second-guess it. Before you could lose your nerve, you leaned forward, capturing his lips with yours.

It wasn’t tentative or shy. It was desperate, a release of all the emotions you’d both been holding back for far too long. Dean responded instantly, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek, the other still bracing you as if he was terrified you might slip away.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. Dean’s forehead rested against yours, his hand lingering on your face. “You really don’t make this easy, do you?” he whispered, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Since when have we ever done easy?” you replied, your voice shaking but steady enough to make him laugh quietly.

“Touché.” Dean leaned in again, pressing a softer, lingering kiss to your forehead before standing. “Now let’s get you patched up before I have a heart attack.”

His hand stayed on your arm as he helped you to your feet, his touch warm and steady. And as the two of you hobbled out of the warehouse together, you couldn’t help but feel that some wounds were worth bearing if they brought you closer to him.

[vortexbloom]

ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕜𝕚𝕤𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 - 𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕦 𝔼𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 (ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤)

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 - 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕀𝕞𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕥

Pairing: Alhaitham/Tighnari/Cyno/Kaveh/Scaramouche aka Wanderer x Reader

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Warnings: None (I guess)

English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

Also, I do Not own any Characters like Alhaitham !

Anyway, have fun reading this :)

Methodical & Deep

Alhaitham’s kisses are precise and meaningful, much like his thought process. He’s not one for public displays of affection, but in private, his kisses convey unspoken emotions.

Forehead Kisses

He often places a firm yet tender kiss on your forehead when he’s engrossed in his work, a silent promise that he’s thinking of you even when preoccupied.

Moments of Passion

When he allows his emotions to surface, his kisses are intense and breathtaking, leaving no room for doubt about how deeply he cares.

Soft & Playful

Tighnari’s kisses are often accompanied by a teasing comment or a chuckle. He’ll sneak quick kisses while you’re working, loving the way you laugh at his spontaneity.

Nature - Inspired

He loves kissing you while surrounded by nature, perhaps under a blooming tree or while the two of you are sitting by a stream in Avidya Forest.

Comforting Gestures

After a long day of research or patrolling, he’ll cradle your face gently and give you a lingering kiss, grounding both of you in the moment.

Reserved but Meaningful

Cyno isn’t the most outwardly affectionate person, but when he does kiss you, it’s serious and sincere. His lips linger for a moment longer than necessary, as if sealing a vow.

Humorous Interludes

Occasionally, he’ll follow a kiss with a joke (or a really bad pun) just to see you roll your eyes and smile.

Protective Kisses

After a battle or when he’s worried about you, he’ll kiss your hands, appreciating your strength and safety.

Dramatic & Passionate

Kaveh’s kisses are theatrical, full of emotion, and often accompanied by sweet words or poetry. He loves making you feel adored and cherished.

Public Displays

He’s not shy about kissing you in public, especially to show others how much he values you. He’ll hold your face tenderly and kiss you as if you’re the center of his world.

Emotional Kisses

During vulnerable moments, he’ll press his forehead against yours and give you a gentle, heartfelt kiss, as if drawing strength from you.

Tentative but Growing

At first, his kisses are hesitant and almost experimental, as if testing whether he’s deserving of your affection. Over time, they grow more confident.

Passion in Private

In moments of deep emotion, he kisses you fervently, as though trying to convey the feelings he struggles to put into words.

Subtle Affection

He’ll often give you a quick peck on the lips or cheek when he thinks no one is watching, showing his softer side when he feels secure.

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[earthlybeam]

Just some random headcanons i think that fit Legolas (my opinion) Request by @justaloserxx

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Legolas version below.

🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼

What's their love language? Legolas’ love language is a delicate, intimate expression of his deep connection with his significant other. He shows his affection through acts of service, quality time, and physical touch, each one reflecting his nature as an Elf—thoughtful, serene, and attuned to beauty and harmony.

Acts of Service as Legolas’ care for his partner goes beyond the typical gestures. He observes their needs and desires with an unmatched attention to detail. Whether it’s making sure their gear is well-maintained, creating a sheltered space to rest, or ensuring that they’re well-fed with the freshest fruits and herbs, he takes great pride in making their experience as peaceful and pleasant as possible. His love is often expressed in the quiet, everyday tasks that he performs without expecting anything in return. His gifts, too, are subtle but meaningful—an intricately carved wooden bracelet he made himself, a beautifully arranged bouquet of wildflowers he picked on a morning walk, or a rare, perfectly round stone he discovered during his travels that reminds him of their strength. To Legolas, these small offerings are intimate tokens of his affection.

Quality Time To Legolas, time with his partner is an irreplaceable treasure. He finds peace and connection in shared moments of silence, often leading them into tranquil settings where they can escape the chaos of the world. Whether nestled among the trees, gazing out over a sparkling river, or standing atop a high cliff watching the sun set, these moments away from the noise of battle or the daily grind are when he feels most connected. The lack of words in these moments doesn’t feel awkward for Legolas—it feels natural. He loves simply being in the presence of his partner, sharing in the beauty of the world together. Their presence is enough for him.

Physical Touch Although not one to display affection publicly, Legolas’ physical touch is tender and deliberate. A soft brush of fingers as they walk side by side, the warmth of his hand resting briefly on their back when comforting them, or a fleeting but meaningful touch on their arm when they’re near. His reserved nature means that he only shares deeper, more intimate physical affection in private, where he feels safe to be vulnerable. In moments of solitude, he may hold them close, offering gentle, lingering embraces that communicate his love without needing words. His kisses are always slow and deliberate, a soft brushing of lips, an expression of his deep and tender feelings. Legolas is not one to demand attention or grandiose gestures, but the way he expresses his love through actions speaks volumes. Every small gesture, every quiet moment, and every soft touch is his way of showing how much he values and cherishes his partner. For him, love is felt deeply in the smallest of acts, and it’s in these subtle ways that he reveals the depth of his affection.

How do they view their significant other? Are they the light in their life? Best friend? Savior, etc.? To Legolas, his significant other is not just a companion, but a profound presence in his long and often lonely life. He sees them as a source of strength, inspiration, and deep connection, and their relationship brings him a sense of joy and meaning that transcends the passing of time. His Light in the Darkness Having lived for thousands of years, Legolas has witnessed the destruction, pain, and sorrow that often accompany the passage of time. The world has changed, his people have faced endless struggles, and many of his friends and loved ones are gone. But his partner represents something different—a beacon of light in the midst of the shadows. They bring warmth to his heart, reminding him of the beauty in the mortal world, the fleeting but precious nature of life. Their laughter, kindness, and the simple joy they bring to even the darkest days rekindle his own hope. With them, Legolas is reminded that there is still good in the world, and that even amidst loss, love can thrive. His partner is the one who helps him find the beauty in moments he might otherwise overlook.

Best Friend and Confidant In his partner, Legolas finds not just love, but deep friendship. They are his closest confidant, the one person he trusts with his innermost thoughts, doubts, and fears. The unspoken bond between them allows Legolas to share even the things he rarely speaks of—his moments of doubt, the burdens of leadership, the heavy weight of the past. He admires their wisdom and often seeks their counsel when faced with difficult decisions, trusting their judgment above all others. The moments they share together, whether in conversation or in comfortable silence, are sacred to him. Their understanding and empathy offer him a sense of peace, and he finds solace in knowing that no matter the trials they face, they have each other.

A Partner in Adventure as Legolas has always thrived in the thrill of adventure, the challenge of battle, and the beauty of exploration. But with his partner by his side, those experiences take on new meaning. He delights in showing them the world as he sees it—the ancient forests, the vast mountain ranges, the quiet beauty of nature that few others truly appreciate. While his partner may not possess the same longevity or elven grace, Legolas admires their bravery, resilience, and willingness to learn and grow alongside him. He is proud of their courage, and he finds joy in helping them become stronger, guiding them through the challenges they face together. Their partnership is not just about survival—it’s about discovery, growth, and mutual respect. Together, they face the unknown, and that shared experience deepens their bond, strengthening their connection. For Legolas, his partner is not just someone he loves—they are an integral part of his life, his closest friend, and a constant reminder of the hope and beauty that still exists in the world, no matter how much darkness he has seen. They are both his light and his anchor, grounding him while also inspiring him to continue adventuring in this ever-changing world.

How do they act when falling out of love? When Legolas begins to fall out of love, his behavior shifts in subtle, almost imperceptible ways. His deeply ingrained sense of honor and respect for others, especially his partner, means that he would never be openly cruel or dismissive. Instead, he becomes quieter, withdrawing into himself, unsure of how to navigate the complexities of fading emotions. His actions may not be overtly harsh, but those closest to him will notice the change.

Guilt and Inner Conflict as Legolas’ elvish nature compels him to remain true to his emotions, and when those emotions begin to fade, he is struck by an intense sense of guilt. He knows that love is sacred and that his partner deserves someone who can fully return their affection. This causes a deep internal struggle, as he fights to reconcile the warmth he once felt with the growing distance he feels now. He cannot easily brush aside his feelings, and the conflict tears at him, even if he doesn’t show it. While he never intends to hurt his partner, the quiet shift in his demeanor and the absence of the once-present tenderness he showed them speaks volumes. His guilt prevents him from being as affectionate as before, and even simple gestures of love—like brushing their hair from their face or offering a comforting touch—become increasingly rare.

Reluctance to Speak Though Legolas is normally a straightforward and open communicator, when he begins to fall out of love, he struggles to put his emotions into words. His nature is not one to openly address emotional discomfort, preferring instead to withdraw into himself and reflect in solitude. This hesitation to speak can lead to a sense of confusion or distance in his relationship, as his partner might sense something is wrong but cannot easily reach him. Instead of initiating heartfelt conversations or addressing the issues, Legolas retreats inwardly, unsure of how to express his own disconnection without causing further harm. He may distance himself physically as well, pulling away from the intimacy they once shared. In his mind, he hopes that time will either resolve the feelings or that his partner might notice the change and ask what’s wrong. The avoidance of difficult conversations leaves him in a state of quiet turmoil. Despite this, Legolas is not malicious, nor does he seek to cause pain. His actions are borne from a place of internal conflict—he values his partner too much to be deceitful or unkind, but he struggles with how to handle the slow, painful process of falling out of love. In these moments, he is often most conflicted, feeling torn between his sense of responsibility toward his partner and the quiet, inevitable drift of his heart.

Will they do anything for their s/o? Will the crocodile tears win them over or are they stubborn on not giving in? Legolas is unwavering in his devotion to those he loves, offering a loyalty that is profound and unshakable. He will go to great lengths to ensure their happiness and well-being, but this devotion is rooted in a deep sense of respect, honor, and trust. He will not blindly follow, especially if he senses dishonesty or manipulation. Crocodile Tears as Legolas is exceptionally perceptive, and his years of experience have honed his ability to see through deception. If his partner is genuinely in need, he will move mountains to help them, whether it’s protecting them in battle, navigating dangerous terrain, or offering emotional support when they’re struggling. He’s not just a protector in action; he will invest time and energy in making sure their needs are met, and he finds great fulfillment in doing so. However, if his partner attempts to manipulate him—using false tears or exaggerated claims—Legolas will remain firm. His sense of honor and deep respect for truth prevents him from indulging in anything that feels disingenuous. He may not call them out directly, but his actions will become distant and measured. He’ll no longer offer the care and attention he once did, sensing that his trust is being betrayed.

Stubborn Loyalty Once Legolas has committed to someone, that bond becomes one of the most important parts of his life. His loyalty is steadfast, even in the face of adversity. If his partner is in danger, or if they need him in any way, he will put aside his own desires or comfort to help them. This loyalty extends beyond physical actions; it’s a deep emotional commitment as well. If his partner is suffering, Legolas will stay by their side, offering support and solace, even when it’s painful for him. He might take on burdens that aren’t his to carry, because he cannot bear to see his loved one suffer. His devotion comes with a price, but he would willingly pay it to ensure their happiness and security. However, this loyalty also means that once his trust is broken, the consequences are grave. He does not easily forgive betrayal or lies, and even if he still loves someone, he would struggle to ever fully trust them again. Legolas’ devotion is a rare and precious gift, one that he gives only to those who prove themselves worthy. His actions are always thoughtful and deliberate, and he never acts out of impulsiveness. When he commits, he does so fully—willing to make sacrifices and endure hardships, but only as long as his trust remains intact.

How do they kiss? Legolas’ kisses are a rare blend of gentleness and intensity, imbued with the depth of his feelings and the reverence he holds for the one he loves. His approach is thoughtful and deliberate, as if he’s savoring the moment, fully aware of the significance of every touch. Slow and Deliberate When Legolas kisses his partner, he takes his time. His lips brush against theirs in a soft, lingering caress, each kiss purposeful, as though he’s memorizing the sensation. He doesn’t rush, instead allowing the moment to deepen and unfold at its own pace. Each kiss is a quiet confession of his affection, a subtle yet profound way of showing his love.

Cradling Their Face In these intimate moments, Legolas often cradles his partner’s face with his hands. His touch is gentle, but there’s strength in the way he holds them—protective, tender, and full of adoration. He’ll run his thumbs along the contours of their cheeks or gently stroke their jaw, feeling the softness of their skin. This touch is both calming and reassuring, a reminder of his devotion and care.

Deeper Kisses in Private When the world is away and they are alone, Legolas’ kisses grow more intense. There is no rush; the deepening of his kiss is a natural progression, an expression of the passion and love he holds in his heart. His lips move with increasing urgency, though still with the same reverence. He may pull them closer, holding them as if they were the very center of his world. Occasionally, his kisses will trail down their jawline or along their neck, as he savors every inch of their skin. These kisses are full of unspoken words—pure emotions shared through touch. It’s a silent language that expresses more than words could ever convey. Each kiss from Legolas feels like a treasure, rare and precious, a reflection of the deep connection he shares with his partner. It’s a tender act, but one that carries the weight of centuries of unspoken emotion—gentle, but with the quiet intensity of someone who has lived through countless seasons, and yet finds something eternally beautiful in the presence of their loved one.

What's their favorite part of their s/o? While Legolas loves every part of his partner, there are certain qualities that captivate him in ways words can scarcely describe. These features resonate deeply with his Elvish soul, and they remind him of the rare beauty and fleeting nature of mortal life, things he holds precious.

Their Eyes as Legolas is drawn to his partner’s eyes above all else. He believes that a person’s soul is reflected in their gaze, and he finds solace and wonder in the way their eyes communicate emotions without words. Whether it’s the brightness of joy, the softness of vulnerability, or the intensity of shared love, he often gets lost in their depths. He can stare into their eyes for what feels like an eternity, feeling an unspoken connection that transcends time. In their gaze, he sees a reflection of everything that is worth fighting for—hope, beauty, and warmth in a world that has seen so much darkness.

Their Hands as Legolas is captivated by the way his partner’s hands move, the strength they possess, and the softness they convey. He loves how their hands feel in his—whether it’s a gentle touch or the comforting pressure of their palm in his. He admires the way their hands express their personality through small gestures, like the graceful way they wave, the warmth of their touch, or even the way they hold something delicately. To Legolas, holding their hand is a moment of deep peace, a grounding act that connects him to the present and makes him feel secure in their bond. Each of their fingers carries a unique story—one that he treasures deeply.

Their Voice To Legolas, their voice is the most enchanting sound he knows. Whether it’s the soft, melodic way they speak, the warmth in their laughter, or the gentle hum of a song, their voice brings him a sense of calm and joy. He finds himself listening intently to the rhythm of their speech, the way their words seem to paint vivid pictures, or how their laughter sounds like music to his ears. Every whisper, every shared story, is a treasure to him, and he delights in hearing the voice of someone he loves—a voice that makes him feel understood and at home. Each of these features—eyes, hands, and voice—are more than just physical traits to Legolas. They represent a deep connection to his partner’s inner world, a world he has come to cherish and protect. To him, they are the most beautiful parts of his partner, the qualities that embody the love, strength, and vulnerability they share together.

Are they protective? Absolutely. Legolas’ protective nature is woven into his very being, though it manifests in a way that is both gentle and vigilant. He’s not overbearing or suffocating, but rather quietly steadfast in ensuring his partner’s safety and well-being. Trust in Their Abilities While Legolas has great faith in his partner’s strength and intelligence, he cannot help but feel a deep responsibility to look out for them. He admires their courage, and he is always respectful of their autonomy. However, in situations of danger, his instincts kick in, and he takes the lead, though always with a sense of quiet respect for their abilities. He would never act as if they were helpless, but there is a certain comfort in knowing that he’s there to protect them, especially when the threat is too overwhelming.

Keen Senses as Legolas’ Elvish senses are unparalleled. He has the uncanny ability to detect even the faintest hint of danger before others, whether it’s the rustle of a leaf in the wind or the subtle shift of a shadow in the distance. He is often the first to spot threats, whether from creatures lurking in the forest or from hidden dangers in unfamiliar places. This heightened awareness allows him to take swift action to protect his partner, often positioning himself between them and the danger before they even realize the threat exists. A Silent Guardian Despite his vigilance, Legolas’ protective nature is not always loud or dramatic. He will never demand that his partner stay behind or be overly cautious. Instead, he might subtly guide them away from harm, using his presence to create a sense of security. If they’re engaged in battle, he will always position himself in a way that shields them from the worst of the danger, but he trusts them enough to fight by his side.

A Sense of Calm when Legolas’ protection extends beyond physical danger. When his partner is feeling anxious, lost, or overwhelmed, he is there with calming words and a steady presence. His unshakable confidence and sense of purpose help ground them, allowing his partner to feel that no matter the storm, he will always be there to weather it alongside them. In essence, Legolas is protective in a way that is both strong and tender. His commitment to his partner’s safety never feels oppressive; instead, it is a testament to how deeply he cares, a constant reassurance that he will always be there when they need him.

How far will they go to take care of their sick s/o? When his partner falls ill, Legolas’ devotion to their well-being knows no bounds. His love compels him to be incredibly attentive, taking meticulous care of them, and going to great lengths to ensure they are as comfortable as possible. His actions are not just born out of duty, but out of a deep-seated desire to ease their suffering and protect them. Knowledge of Herbs and Remedies as Legolas has an extensive understanding of the natural world, a skill honed over centuries spent living in the forests of Mirkwood. When his partner falls ill, he uses his vast knowledge of plants, herbs, and healing remedies. He’ll gather fresh leaves, flowers, or roots, carefully preparing medicinal teas to soothe a sore throat, create poultices for aches, or concoct calming brews to help them sleep. His gentle hands work with purpose, showing how much he cares in every detail, from grinding herbs to applying soothing oils to their forehead. The aroma of his healing concoctions fills the air, comforting both body and soul.

Comfort and Constant Vigilance as Legolas is rarely far from his partner’s side when they are sick. He ensures they are always warm and comfortable, bringing extra blankets if needed, or making sure the fire remains stoked to maintain a steady warmth. His presence is calming, a silent reassurance that they are not alone in their suffering. Even if they insist on resting, he’ll sit nearby, watching over them, his eyes never straying far. His protective instincts shine through here as well—he’ll adjust pillows, tuck them in, and attend to every little need, whether it’s fetching them water or simply sitting in quiet companionship. Determined to Find the Best Care If their illness surpasses his ability to treat, Legolas’ determination takes over. His connection to the natural world is vast, but his love for his partner makes him willing to go to extraordinary lengths to find someone who can help. If it means traveling across dangerous terrain or leaving the relative safety of his home, he will not hesitate. He’ll seek out the finest healers, ancient remedies, or forgotten magic, even if it means crossing miles of untamed land or seeking counsel from distant realms. He would not let them suffer if he could prevent it, regardless of how far he must journey.

Endless Patience While Legolas’ nature is usually calm and composed, when it comes to caring for his sick partner, he displays an infinite patience. He doesn’t grow frustrated or impatient at their condition; instead, he quietly reassures them, telling stories of their past adventures or speaking of brighter days ahead. His soothing words, though not many, are full of warmth and love. Even when they are too weak to respond, he will continue to care for them, acting as a steady and unwavering source of support. In essence, Legolas will go to any lengths to ensure his partner’s recovery. His care is thorough, patient, and unconditional, his devotion boundless. Whether using his skills with herbs, seeking out the finest care, or simply staying by their side, he will do whatever is necessary to bring them back to health. His love fuels every action, making him not just a protector, but a constant source of comfort and hope when his partner is most vulnerable.

How do they cheer their s/o up when they're down? When his partner is feeling low or burdened by the weight of the world, Legolas is there in a quiet but profoundly supportive way. His method of cheering them up is not through grand gestures, but rather through his deep understanding of their needs and his gentle care. He provides comfort through small, meaningful acts that show his unwavering love and attention to their well-being. Encouraging Nature Walks as Legolas believes deeply in the healing power of nature, and when his partner is down, he’ll invite them to join him for a peaceful walk through the forest or along a riverbank. The soft rustling of the leaves, the scent of fresh pine, and the sight of sunlight filtering through the trees bring a calmness that he hopes will soothe their soul. As they walk, he’ll listen quietly, offering his hand if they need support, letting the natural beauty of the world around them work its magic. Often, during these walks, he’ll point out small details of the environment that they may have overlooked—a hidden flower, the song of a bird, or the way the light dances on the water—reminding them that even in difficult times, beauty can still be found.

Small Tokens of Affection as Legolas has a tender way of showing his love, often giving small, thoughtful tokens to lift his partner’s spirits. Whether it’s a delicate flower he plucked from the forest, a feather he’s found on one of his adventures, or a simple sketch he’s drawn of a scene from their shared memories, these gifts are small but deeply meaningful. Each one is a reminder that they are cherished, and his attention to detail speaks volumes about how much he cares. He often tells them the story behind the gift, making each token even more special—a way to remind them that their struggles are not unnoticed and that he’s always thinking of them.

Quiet Support and Gentle Words as Legolas isn’t one to offer empty words of comfort, but when he speaks, his words carry a quiet, hopeful strength. If his partner needs to talk about their troubles, he listens intently, his eyes filled with understanding and empathy. If they need perspective, he speaks softly, offering a poetic view on their situation. He might say something like, “The dark forest always gives way to dawn. Even the longest night eventually turns to morning. Your strength is like the roots of the trees, deep and enduring. You will overcome this, just as the rivers carve their way through the rock.” His words aren’t rushed; they are chosen carefully, meant to inspire resilience and hope.

Physical Comfort If his partner is particularly down, Legolas might not speak much at all. Instead, he’ll offer them the comfort of his presence. Sometimes a gentle touch on the shoulder or a hand held quietly in his will say more than words ever could. He has a way of making them feel safe and secure simply by being there, his steady energy a constant source of reassurance.

Creating a Quiet Sanctuary as Legolas also knows that sometimes the best way to cheer someone up is by creating a space of calm. He might build a small fire or prepare a quiet evening for them—setting up a secluded spot where they can rest, free from the demands of the world. In these moments, they can share a quiet meal, listen to the sound of the fire crackling, and just be in each other’s company without the need for words. Ultimately, Legolas’ way of cheering up his significant other is not through dramatic gestures but through his deep, steady presence and thoughtful actions. Whether through the beauty of nature, a small gift, or a few well-chosen words, he knows how to lift their spirits in a way that is subtle yet profound. His quiet understanding and unwavering support create an atmosphere where his partner feels not just loved, but truly seen and cared for.

How do they react when they find out their s/o is dead? When Legolas learns of the death of his significant other, the grief he feels is profound and all-encompassing. Though he is an Elf, long accustomed to loss over the centuries, this death cuts deeply. His emotions, however, remain largely private, a quiet storm of sorrow and heartache that he doesn’t easily share with others. Grief and Isolation as Legolas’ first reaction is a deep, silent devastation. He retreats inwardly, shutting off from those around him. His grief isn’t explosive or outwardly angry, but it’s an overwhelming sadness that takes hold of him, leaving him numb. In moments like these, he will seek solace in the forests, away from the noise of others. The wilderness, where he’s always felt connected to the natural world, becomes his refuge. There, he may walk for hours, moving as if in a trance, searching for some sort of peace amid the trees that witnessed so many of his moments of joy with his lost partner. The air is thick with memory, and each familiar path or quiet glade seems to hold echoes of the time they spent together.

Songs of Lamentation as Legolas, ever the poet and lover of beauty, turns to music to express his grief. Alone in the solitude of the woods, he will sing haunting Elvish laments—songs passed down through the ages that speak of loss, love, and eternity. His voice carries with it the weight of centuries, soft yet piercing, the lyrics filled with sorrow. These songs, though in his mother tongue, carry an essence that anyone listening could feel, even if they don’t understand the words. They are not just mournful but deeply soulful, a raw expression of his broken heart. Each note he sings is laden with the memories of their love, the beauty they shared, and the anguish of losing them. His songs are a tribute to the life they lived, to what they meant to him, and to the world that now feels emptier without them in it.

Honoring Their Memory Despite the pain, Legolas is determined to carry on in a way that honors the life they shared. He would never want his partner’s death to be in vain, so he vows to continue living as they would have wanted. He might dedicate himself to causes they cared about or fulfill dreams they had left unfulfilled. To remember them, he keeps a token that belonged to his lost love—perhaps a piece of jewelry, a small trinket, or something that always had significance in their relationship. This token serves as a constant, grounding reminder of the love they shared and the lessons they imparted. It becomes his quiet touchstone, something he often holds when he feels the sting of their absence.

The Weight of Eternity For Legolas, whose life stretches over millennia, the loss of a mortal partner is uniquely tragic. He knows the pain of outliving loved ones, but it’s different with someone so close—someone who was his equal in heart and spirit. His immortality means he will live on, but the pain of losing someone who won’t is one of the hardest truths he faces. And yet, he will find strength in this knowledge, learning to hold their memory within him as a source of resilience. Though the grief may never fully leave him, he will learn, over time, to carry it with grace. In the end, Legolas’ reaction to the death of his significant other is one of profound sorrow, but also a deep reverence for the love they shared. His grief is quiet but unyielding, and his love for them never fades. Even as he moves forward, he does so with the knowledge that their spirit lives on in him, in every song he sings, in every quiet moment he holds their memory close.

What makes them worry about their s/o the most? Legolas’ concern for his partner’s well-being runs deep, and his worries are often tied to the stark contrast between his immortality and their fleeting mortal lives. His love for them is tender, yet filled with an underlying anxiety, as he knows that they are vulnerable in ways he is not. The greatest source of Legolas’ worry is the knowledge that, unlike himself, his partner’s life is fragile and finite. This disparity is something he struggles to reconcile. Despite the beauty of the mortal world and the bond they share, the knowledge that one day they will age, grow frail, and eventually pass away fills him with sorrow and dread. Every moment spent with them is both a blessing and a reminder of the inevitable. He often finds himself holding them a little tighter, gazing at them a little longer, knowing that these precious moments are limited. He worries about them in the quiet hours, especially when they show signs of weariness or sickness, as every ache or ill turn of the season reminds him of their limited time. The thought of losing them is something he can hardly bear, and yet, he faces it with a kind of resigned acceptance that weighs heavily on his heart.

Legolas admires his partner’s courage—especially if they’re someone who is willing to take risks in order to help others or to protect the ones they love. However, this bravery can also make him anxious, particularly when it leads them into dangerous situations. Whether they venture into the woods to confront a threat or pursue an adventure that might be beyond their abilities, he can’t help but worry. He’s seen too much of the world’s dangers—creatures, orcs, and perilous terrain—and the thought of his partner being exposed to such risks makes him uneasy. Though he will never stifle their spirit or desire to fight for what’s right, he can’t help but feel the weight of concern, especially when they act impulsively or rashly. His love for them makes him want to keep them safe, yet he knows that their courage is part of what makes them so special. So he worries quietly, his protective instincts sharpening with every close call or dangerous situation they put themselves in.

Illness or Injury Knowing that mortals have a more fragile constitution than elves, Legolas is particularly sensitive to even the slightest indication that his partner is unwell. A cough, a bruise, or a small cut can trigger a wave of concern in him that others may see as disproportionate. He’s well-versed in the healing arts and the use of natural remedies, but he is always conscious of how easily mortals can succumb to illness or injury. When his partner falls ill, even with something as simple as a cold, Legolas’ anxiety heightens. He will carefully monitor them, ensuring they have everything they need, from warm blankets to healing herbs, and will refuse to leave their side until they’re fully recovered. His worry extends to any sign of fatigue or injury—when they’re wounded, no matter how minor the injury may seem, it pulls at his heart. He cannot bear the thought of them being in pain, and if they ever endure an injury that cannot be easily healed, the grief is almost unbearable for him. These worries, while rooted in his deep love for his partner, also highlight the essence of Legolas’ internal conflict: his desire to protect them from all harm, and his ultimate powerlessness to shield them from the inevitabilities of mortality.

How often do they stare lovingly at their s/o? For Legolas, his love for his partner is something that he constantly observes, as if capturing the beauty of their presence in every fleeting moment. His affinity for them manifests in his gaze—an unspoken, constant adoration that never quite leaves him. Almost Constantly Legolas’ sharp elven eyesight allows him to take in the details of his partner’s movements with an ease that most would overlook. Whether they are deep in conversation with someone else, moving through a crowd, or simply standing still, Legolas is always aware of their every action. His eyes linger on them without being obvious, finding solace in the soft curve of their smile or the way the sunlight catches their hair. These moments, brief as they are, fill him with an overwhelming sense of warmth and affection. His gaze becomes more intense in quiet moments—when they are simply sitting together in the stillness of nature or walking side by side through the woods. It is a silent way for him to cherish them without ever needing to speak the words.

Subtle Glances Even when they’re within arm’s reach, Legolas can’t help but steal glances. His love is reflected in his quiet admiration, his expression softening into a fond smile whenever their eyes meet, even for the briefest of moments. When he catches them looking at him, there’s a spark of joy in his eyes, a silent connection between them. His gaze will soften with affection, and he’ll often look away quickly, only to glance back again a moment later. His appreciation for them is written on his face—his love is gentle and patient, always lingering in the way he watches them, silently taking in their essence as if committing each detail of their presence to memory.

In Quiet Moments When they’re alone, he is less reserved in his admiration. If they sit together in a quiet spot, like a tranquil grove or beside a fire, Legolas will gaze at them openly, his eyes filled with admiration. His gaze is often accompanied by a small smile, one that’s personal and private, as if they share a secret that only the two of them understand. When they aren’t speaking, he might still be watching them—letting his gaze fall on their features, the curve of their neck, the gentle movement of their hands. It is a way for him to revel in their beauty and presence, feeling a deep sense of peace when they are near him.

Secret Glances as we all know Legolas’ love also manifests in the more hidden moments, when he thinks no one is looking. In crowds or during shared moments with others, he will find opportunities to glance at his partner when their attention isn’t on him. His eyes will briefly flicker over their face, always with the same tenderness, before he looks away. These secret glances are a silent reminder to himself of how much he cares. He may find himself watching them as they talk to others, noting the way their laugh lights up their face or how they tilt their head when listening. These glances are never meant to be seen, but in them, there is an intimacy—a quiet understanding that only he fully knows. They are a way for him to steal precious moments with his partner, savoring their presence even when they’re not directly engaging with him. Every glance, whether fleeting, prolonged, or secret, carries with it the depth of Legolas’ love—a quiet adoration that he expresses through the simple act of watching them, savoring the time they have together.

How do they impress their s/o? For Legolas, impressing his partner is not about seeking praise or admiration; rather, it’s about showing them his skills, knowledge, and deep devotion in the most subtle and meaningful ways. His expressions of love are intertwined with his sense of honor and grace, showcasing his desire to keep them safe and cherished. Legolas’ talent with the bow and his agility in combat are legendary, but he doesn’t show them off for attention. When the opportunity arises, he’ll demonstrate his prowess in a way that feels effortless and natural—whether by swiftly and accurately shooting an arrow at a target or performing an elegant combat maneuver. It’s not about impressing them with his skill, but rather offering them reassurance that they are protected. His grace in movement, especially when traversing difficult terrain, will often make them watch in awe as he moves through the forest or climbs with the ease of a creature born to the trees. These displays, while showing his strength and abilities, are a subtle reminder that, with him by their side, they are safe and cared for.

Knowledge and Stories as Legolas is an Elf who has lived for centuries, and his experiences in the world have granted him an incredible wealth of knowledge. When he shares these stories with his partner, he does so with the quiet enthusiasm of someone who finds joy in imparting wisdom. He might recount tales of ancient kingdoms, forgotten lands, or adventures with friends and companions from ages past. His voice, soft and melodic, carries the weight of history, making his stories captivating. Through these tales, his partner learns not just about the world, but also about his deep connection to it. They’ll come to realize that Legolas is not just a skilled warrior, but also a man of wisdom, respect, and ancient beauty—a timeless spirit who holds the world’s secrets in his heart. His knowledge of nature, the stars, and the intricacies of the world around them are often shared in quiet moments, where he’ll point out the constellations or explain the significance of a particular flower or tree. Through these stories, he shows the depth of his affection by revealing the richness of his soul.

Thoughtful Gestures as Legolas doesn’t rely on grand displays or material gifts to show his love; instead, he showers his partner with small, meaningful gestures. A woven garland of flowers, collected during a quiet walk through the woods, might be draped over their head as a simple token of his affection. He may carve a small figurine from wood or stone—perhaps an animal or tree—something that reflects their personality or their shared connection with nature. These gifts, though humble, hold profound significance because they are made with care and attention to detail. He might also surprise them with carefully chosen items—something as small as a rare flower he’s found on his travels or a delicate leaf from a tree he knows they love. These gestures come from a place of deep understanding and affection, showing that he pays attention to the little things that make them unique.

Quiet Acts of Service Another way Legolas impresses his partner is through actions rather than words. Whether it’s building a shelter, lighting a fire, or ensuring their safety in battle, his every movement is driven by his desire to take care of them. These acts of service, though seemingly small, speak volumes about his commitment and love. He never hesitates to step in and help with whatever is needed, and his efforts are always done with a quiet elegance that mirrors his nature. It’s in these simple, everyday moments that his love is expressed most strongly—through the way he looks out for them and tends to their needs.

In Moments of Vulnerability While Legolas is strong and capable, he also has moments of quiet vulnerability with his partner. In these rare moments, he opens up about his past—the pain of watching the world around him change, the loss of friends and loved ones, and his sense of loneliness in a world that has moved on without him. Sharing these deeper, more intimate aspects of himself is a way for him to impress his partner, not through grandeur, but through the honesty and trust he places in them. It’s his way of saying that he values them enough to let them see the side of him that is not often revealed to others. Through all these actions, Legolas impresses his partner not with superficial charm or grand gestures, but with a genuine, unwavering devotion that proves he is a partner of unparalleled depth and loyalty. His love is as enduring as the ancient forests he adores—a perfect balance of passion, thoughtfulness, and devotion.

Extra bonus (these parts just for fun, love writing them 😈🙈)

𖧧 Legolas talks to the trees As a child of the forest, Legolas has a deep bond with trees. Sometimes, when alone, he can be seen standing with his back against a great oak or whispering to the wind through the leaves. It’s a calming ritual, as if the trees are offering him their wisdom. (I think this is well known fact 🤌)

𖧧 He’s a people-watcher, Legolas finds humans and other races fascinating to observe. Their mannerisms, expressions, and the way they interact with each other intrigue him. He’ll often sit in the background during campfires or gatherings, quietly watching people and analyzing their behaviors. He finds comfort in observing the complexity of mortal life.

𖧧 He dislikes wearing jewelry Despite Elves being known for their ornate jewelry and accessories, Legolas is very minimalist. He doesn’t wear rings or necklaces, feeling they are unnecessary distractions. The only piece of jewelry he wears is a simple pendant that has sentimental value, but he rarely takes it off. As the Prince of Mirkwood, he also dislikes wearing his regal Elven attire, which his father often insists he wear for formal events. Legolas finds the elaborate robes and crowns uncomfortable and feels stifled by the royal expectations, preferring the simplicity of his everyday attire or battle gear.

𖧧 He gets homesick Even though Legolas has roamed Middle-earth for many years, the call of his home in the forest is always a pull on his heart. When he’s away from the forests of Mirkwood for too long, he becomes quietly withdrawn, and there’s a subtle sadness in his eyes.

𖧧 He likes to hide things in his hair: Legolas has long, golden hair, and he sometimes hides small items in it when he’s on the move. It might be a leaf he found during his travels or a small token from someone important to him. He enjoys the secretive nature of it and the way it connects him to moments or people from the past. (Probably has comb in hair, that’s why his hair always neat and tidy 🤣)

𖧧 He has an odd fascination with clouds When he’s not staring at the stars, Legolas is fascinated by clouds. He finds the way they change shape and color over time to be incredibly calming. Occasionally, when there’s nothing else to do, he’ll lie on his back and watch them shift across the sky, lost in their endless movement.

𖧧 He’s surprisingly bad at keeping secrets While Legolas is generally reserved, if someone tells him something exciting or important, he has a hard time keeping it to himself. He’ll drop hints or sneak looks in the direction of the person he wants to tell. Eventually, his curiosity gets the better of him.

𖧧 He hates shoes as Legolas finds shoes to be incredibly restricting. As an elf, he’s used to feeling the earth beneath his feet, and the thought of covering them up seems unnatural. When he’s not in combat or on formal missions, he prefers to go barefoot or wear sandals if absolutely necessary. The feel of shoes makes him uncomfortable, and he’ll often take them off as soon as he can.

𖧧 He always remembers small details about people as Legolas has an extraordinary memory. He remembers the smallest details about people, like their favorite flowers, a funny thing they said once, or a quiet moment shared. He holds these memories dear, using them to make his loved ones feel special.

𖧧 He hums when he’s alone, Legolas has a habit of humming elvish songs when he’s alone, lost in thought. It’s a soothing, melodic sound that gives him peace and connects him to his roots. Sometimes, he’ll even hum while working—such as cleaning his bow or preparing arrows.

𖧧 He’s an early riser As someone accustomed to the rhythms of nature, Legolas wakes up with the sun. While the rest of the group is still sleeping, he enjoys the quiet moments of dawn, where he can gather his thoughts, check his surroundings, or just meditate in the calm light of morning.

𖧧 He values silence over conversation While Legolas is capable of deep and meaningful conversations, he values silence just as much. He believes that some moments are best shared in quiet, especially when he’s with someone he trusts deeply. There’s a deep peace in simply being present with another person without words.

𖧧 He’s a hopeless romantic, but can’t express it as Legolas has deeply romantic feelings but finds it incredibly awkward to express them. He often gets tongue-tied, tries to be overly composed, and ends up saying something completely embarrassing, like, “You… uh, have a good… um, presence?” His attempts to be smooth always backfire, and while his partner might think it’s endearing, he’s mortified and immediately retreats to the safety of the forest to avoid further embarrassment.

𖧧 He gets overly excited about simple things if Legolas is calm and composed most of the time, but there are certain simple pleasures that make him childishly excited. For example, if someone offers him a particularly delicious fruit or if he stumbles upon a beautiful flower he’s never seen before, his face lights up with genuine joy. He might go on about it for longer than necessary, rambling about how amazing it is, much to the amusement of those around him. (golden retriever energy ✨🙌)

𖧧 Always Eavesdropping (Accidentally) Legolas has exceptional hearing, so when he’s in the company of others, he sometimes picks up on conversations that aren’t meant for him. This leads to him overhearing awkward or private discussions. He tries to look nonchalant and avoid drawing attention to himself, but his facial expressions betray him. His eyes widen, his eyebrows furrow, and occasionally, his mouth twitches like he’s trying to stifle a laugh or an awkward comment. He quickly clears his throat and pretends like he didn’t hear anything.

𖧧 Loves to Fidget When he’s not in a battle or on a mission, Legolas often fidgets with small things—like running his fingers along a piece of fabric or flipping a stone between his fingers. It’s his way of soothing himself, especially during moments of rest or when he’s feeling anxious. The problem is, his fidgeting can sometimes distract others, especially if he starts playing with something in the middle of a serious conversation.

𖧧 Avoiding Eye Contact (In a Sweet Way) Legolas has trouble making and maintaining direct eye contact during intense or emotional moments. He might glance away when saying something vulnerable or when he’s trying to process his feelings, often focusing on something nearby, like a tree branch or his boots, rather than looking directly at the person he’s speaking to.

𖧧 Not a Fan of Surprises as Legolas dislikes sudden, loud noises or surprises, especially when they break his focus. A loud crash or someone jumping out from behind a tree will leave him momentarily startled, and it takes him a while to regain his composure. It’s not that he’s scared—it’s more that it throws him off balance and leaves him feeling a little frazzled. He likes to know everything that’s going on around him, and unexpected events disrupt his sense of control. If something catches him off guard, you might catch him muttering to himself, trying to process what just happened or mentally preparing himself for the next surprise.

𖧧 Struggles with Small Talk While he’s excellent in meaningful, deep conversations, casual chatter often leaves Legolas at a loss for words. He might give awkwardly long pauses after simple questions like “How’s your day going?” or offer overly detailed answers to “What’s up?” It’s not that he’s rude—it’s just that he doesn’t quite grasp the point of small talk, preferring more substantial exchanges.

𖧧 He has odd sleeping habits. Or rather, trancing habits. Sometimes, he’ll stand perfectly still, eyes wide open, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was awake. (This video perfect 🤣🤌)

𖧧 He names everything. His knives, his arrows, even the random squirrel following him on the journey. (Named it rondir), A Tree He Sleeps In, A Random Rock He Finds Beautiful, His canteen. Literally he names everything. Everything deserves a name, according to Legolas.

𖧧 Legolas’ Very Expressed Face: Legolas is incapable of masking his emotions, and his face is an open canvas for every feeling he experiences. Whether it’s a quiet moment of reflection, intense concentration, or a fleeting thought, his face shifts and molds accordingly. His eyebrows often lift in surprise or furrow in concern, and his eyes shine with joy or narrow with suspicion. Even when he tries to maintain composure, his emotions are so deeply etched into his expressions that it’s nearly impossible to hide them. His face constantly gives him away, so anyone who knows him well can tell exactly what he’s thinking—be it amusement, frustration, or admiration—just by the subtle (or not-so-subtle) changes in his features. It’s both endearing and, at times, a little amusing to those around him, as his feelings are almost always written all over his face. (Example of what I mean here can’t hide his expression 😂 being sassy bitch 💅✨)

For Other characters headcanons so far.

[purinipod]

what would dating them be like? pt. 3

ft. choso and ino

author’s note: part one | part two

𐙚 choso kamo

• first impressions: choso seems like someone who is constantly overthinking everything. he doesn’t know how to act around you at first, which only makes him more endearing. he’s not awkward in a clumsy way, but more like he’s unsure of how much to share or how much to keep to himself. his deep, intense eyes reflect a lot of thought and emotion, but he holds back his more vulnerable side until he feels you out.

• dates: choso enjoys simple, calming dates where there’s room to just be. he’ll take you to a cat cafe or a little-known park, somewhere peaceful where the two of you can talk or sit in comfortable silence. he might bring you a book he’s reading or share something he finds interesting, slowly inviting you into his world. there’s no rush—just slow, sweet moments of connection.

• pet names: choso’s pet names are soft and unassuming, like “moon,” “baby” or “sweetie.” he doesn’t like anything too over-the-top, preferring something gentle that feels intimate but not overwhelming. the way he says them makes you feel like you’re the only one he’s ever said it to.

• interactions: choso has a calm energy that helps ground you. he’s the type who listens intently to everything you say, even the small details. his affection shows in the way he looks at you, his hand subtly brushing yours, or how he’ll just sit next to you, letting silence speak for itself. he doesn’t rush into things, but when he’s with you, you feel valued.

• what you argue about: your arguments usually stem from his overprotectiveness and the way he bottles up his emotions. he gets frustrated when he can’t find a way to protect you from everything—whether it’s physical or emotional—and sometimes he ends up pushing you away when he feels overwhelmed. you argue when he refuses to open up about his own struggles, shutting down emotionally instead of sharing with you. you just want him to lean on you, but it takes him a while to realize it’s okay to do that.

𐙚 ino takuma

• first impressions: ino gives off a laid-back, easygoing vibe that’s hard not to like. having grown up together, it feels like he’s always been around, which makes him seem comfortable and familiar. but even with that comfort, he still has a quiet intensity that makes you feel special. it’s clear he cares deeply, even if he doesn’t always show it in the most obvious ways.

• dates: ino’s idea of a date is thoughtful and full of the little things. he’s the type to put together gift baskets filled with all your favorite snacks, books, or little trinkets that show he listens and remembers every detail. one of his favorite dates is a trip to the aquarium, where you can get lost in the beauty of the sea life and enjoy each other’s company in a peaceful, mesmerizing setting. he also loves taking you for a picnic, where he’ll pack your favorite foods and set up a cozy spot in the park, so you can relax together and just talk for hours. for ino, it’s all about creating moments that are intimate, relaxing, and full of connection.

• pet names: ino’s pet names are sweet and endearing, often things like “babe,” “princes” or “cutie.” he’s not overly extravagant, but the way he says them always sounds warm and genuine. sometimes he’ll call you “my girl,” a little reminder that you’re the one he turns to no matter what.

• interactions: with ino, everything feels easy and natural, but there’s always this undercurrent of affection. he’s the kind of boyfriend who constantly checks in with you, asking if you’re okay or if you need anything, just because he wants to make sure you’re happy. he’s always doing little things for you—whether it’s grabbing your favorite drink or pulling out the chair for you at dinner. his love language is acts of service, and you feel it in every thoughtful gesture.

• what you argue about: the biggest source of tension is when ino sometimes acts like you’re still just friends, especially in front of others. it’s like he forgets that you’re more than that, and while he doesn’t mean to hurt you, it can feel like he’s not fully acknowledging the depth of your relationship. he’ll make jokes about how “we’re best friends since birth basically” or forget to refer to you as his partner, leaving you feeling a little sidelined. this usually leads to arguments about him not being fully present as a boyfriend, even though his actions show he cares. you’d remind him that being affectionate and open about your relationship is important to you, even if it’s hard for him to adjust from the friendship zone.

@purinipod pls don’t steal any of my work

[grandpeachpersona]

It's A Man's World

Chapter 9 ☆Butterflies☆

Warnings: Flirting (but not much), Mention of the death of a family member, New character 😏, LGBTQIA mention (Nothing derogatory! If it offends you, I do deeply apologize; she just had a church granny) Word Count: 2,014 Enjoy ;)

Waking up this morning felt like an entire series on its own, but I managed to get through it. I guess the Bengals' celebration wasn't enough of a lesson. Mom always said I was hardheaded. 

Speaking of Mom, she's flying into Atlanta this afternoon. She's been there for me and supported me since day one; she's the strongest person I know. Growing up, I didn't have the best things—after all, my mom was a single mother. It was just the two of us.

Now it's time for me to return the favor. She knows she's coming down to Atlanta for the World Series, but she doesn't realize that the house she's been trying to pay off for years will be paid in full by the time she gets back home to St. Louis.

In the meantime, I found myself in the pantry looking for something to munch on. After clicking my tongue a few times, I finally decided on cool ranch Doritos—don't judge me.

Just as I got comfortable on the couch with the bag of chips and my blanket, my phone started ringing. Reaching over, I grabbed it.

Incoming FaceTime from JoeBurr 🧡

I quickly prepared myself, hiding my face a little as I hit the answer button. As Joe's face illuminated the screen, a rush of warmth washed over me. “Heyyy,” I said, my voice slightly slurred, a tinge of embarrassment creeping in from last night’s escapades. 

“Hey, you okay?” Joe's voice softened as if he sensed the vulnerability in the moment. In the background, I could see the unmistakable surroundings of a locker room, a hint of camaraderie in the air.

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me very well, “Yeah, I'm good, just—” My voice trailed off, weighted by the embarrassment of the previous night’s blunders. 

“Is it about last night?” Joe interjected, picking up on my hesitation with uncanny intuition.

Taking a deep breath, I mustered the courage to show my face to the camera, pressing my lips together in a thin line as I reluctantly replied, “Mmm huh.” As I studied Joe’s expression, a small grin crept across his face, and he shook his head, amusement sparkling in his eyes. 

“Ri, it’s fine honestly,” he shrugged, his tone reassuring. I could hardly believe his nonchalance, raising my brow in skepticism. “Fine? Joe, it's far from fine! I should have just waited until I sobered up and then texted you,” I explained, my heart racing at the recollection of my awkward messages.

“Baby, it was just one word,” he chuckled lightly, his laughter a balm to my frayed nerves.

“It's not even the fa—” but then, a realization hit me like a ton of bricks. *Insert TikTok sound.* Wait, wa-wa wait wait.

“Still there?” Joe's voice broke through my haze, a small chuckle escaping him as I took a moment to collect my thoughts.

I managed to nod, though my mind was still trying to wrap around what had just transpired. My stomach churned with excited butterflies, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. This man. This man, who was somehow both a friend and a source of this fluttering feeling!

Desperate to redirect my thoughts, I blurted out, “How was practice?” The words spilled from my mouth without thinking.

Joe tilted his head, a mixture of confusion and amusement dancing in his eyes. “I don’t have practice for another 15 minutes,” he responded, his voice tinged with laughter.

Oh girl, you really are making this worse for yourself...

“But seriously,” Joe continued, his eyes softening with concern, “how are you feeling?” 

I paused, allowing the question to sink in. “Honestly, I feel like I’m floating. Like one minute, I’m winning the state championship, then I'm graduating, and the next, I'm heading to the World Series,” I replied, my voice dreamy, revealing just how surreal everything felt.

Glancing back at the screen, I noticed Joe was already watching me with a gentle smile, a subtle warmth radiating from his expression. “What?” I asked, intrigued by his gaze.

He shook his head, an affectionate grin still plastered on his face. “Nothing, just so proud of you.”

A wave of warmth surged through me at his words, a mixture of gratitude and inspiration flooding my heart. 

“Proud of you too,” I replied softly, hope bubbling within me, feeling the sincerity of our connection.

Joe and I lingered in conversation for a little while longer, but soon he had to prepare for his game, and I needed to head to the airport to pick up my mom. 

“So, how's everyone back home?” I asked, watching her as she settled at the counter, carefully unpacking the fragrant takeout we had picked up on our way home. 

“They're all good! Everyone sends their love. They really missed you at the family reunion,” she replied, handing me a steaming box of food, the familiar scents wrapping around me like a warm hug.

A bittersweet smile crossed my face as I glanced down at the container. “I miss them too... I really wish I could have been there,” I said softly, my heart aching with the weight of absence.

Not being able to attend this family reunion hit hard, especially since it was the first one without my grandmother. She and I had shared an unbreakable bond, a connection that felt like we were thick as thieves. She embodied strength and grace, a truly phenomenal woman. 

I could vividly recall the day I left for LSU. As I prepared to embark on that new chapter, she pulled me close and whispered, “Sierra, promise me three things: first, you won't ever give up; second, you won’t turn gay—(no shade to the LGBTQIA+ community, of course); and third, you’ll keep God in your life.” Her words echoed in my mind, laced with love and wisdom that I would carry with me always.

And to this day, I have honored those promises, every single one of them.

My mom, sensing the shift in my mood as I sat quietly, quickly diverted the conversation. “Do you still keep in touch with your old teammates?” she asked with an encouraging smile.

I nodded, taking a bite of my food, the flavors swirling in my mouth. “Yeah, I still talk to them,” I replied, my voice slightly muffled as I popped another piece of chicken in. “Most of them ended up joining the women’s softball league down in New Orleans.”

Her smile broadened a twinkle of nostalgia in her eyes. “That’s great! What about that one... Ja’marr? And what was his other friend’s name?” she inquired, a hint of curiosity lacing her tone.

“Joe and Justin, yeah, I still keep in touch with them,” I said, taken aback by her sharp memory. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

“How could I forget? Every time I called you, if you weren’t at practice, you were right next to one of them,” she chuckled, her laughter dancing around the kitchen. “They’re in the NFL now, right?”

Nodding again, I replied with a hint of pride, “Yep, Joe and Ja’marr play for the Bengals, and Justin plays for the Vikings.”

A knowing smile crept onto her face. “You and Joe used to date, didn’t you?”

In a moment of shock, I nearly choked on my food, my hand instinctively rising to cover my mouth. Wow, Mom did not hold back. “No!” I exclaimed, even though I was secretly counting down to a date with him in a couple of weeks—a detail I wasn’t quite ready to share.

“Damn, you didn’t have to say it like that,” she retorted, unfazed. “Personally, I always thought you two would look good together,” she shrugged, a playful smirk gracing her lips.

Yeah, I thought the same thing too.

Shaking my head, I pushed my plate away slightly. “Joe had a girlfriend in college, but nobody liked her,” I said, placing my fork in the sink. It was true—she had an attitude that rubbed everyone the wrong way.

“Well, what about now?” Mom pressed, rising from her seat and echoing the motion of dropping her fork into the sink. This topic was one I wished to avoid.

“What do you mean, ‘what about now’?” I asked, genuinely curious about where she was headed with this line of questioning.

“You and Joe,” she replied, her tone steady, probing.

Now I was caught between two difficult choices: to tell her the truth about our upcoming date or to fabricate a lie. I chose the latter, hoping my words would be convincing enough.

“Ma, with baseball taking over my entire summer, I barely have time to think about a relationship,” I said, trying to sound as persuasive as possible.

When our eyes met, I could see faint doubt flickering in hers, but thankfully, it was just enough to convince her to drop the subject—at least for the moment…

Mom and I lingered in the cozy living room, exchanging thoughts and laughter well into the night. The warmth of our conversation wrapped around us like a familiar blanket until she finally declared it was time for bed. I, however, wasn’t ready to call it a night just yet. I settled back onto the couch, my iPad resting comfortably on my lap, as the flickering images of the Bengals game illuminated the dim room.

Just as I glanced up from my notes, I caught a snapshot of the action on the screen—Joe had just released a perfect spiral, connecting with Ja’Marr for a touchdown. I couldn’t help but let out a silent cheer, my heart swelling with pride, before I redirected my focus back to my film study.

Yet, the words of our earlier conversation lingered in my mind, a gentle echo that tugged at my thoughts. 

“Ma, with baseball taking over my entire summer, I barely have time to think about a relationship.” 

Reflecting on that moment now stirred a mixture of hope and doubt within me. Could Joe and I really make something work, despite my whirlwind schedule? I had roughly 90 days of freedom—if I was lucky. That didn’t factor in spring training, and with the season flying by, it wouldn’t be long before Opening Day arrived, leaving me smothered in responsibilities once again.

Ninety days didn’t seem like enough time to truly build a relationship, or did it? 

As I returned my gaze to the screen, I noticed Joe on the sidelines, keenly watching the defensive formations as they prepared to sack Denver’s quarterback. It struck me just how captivating he was, even in moments when he wasn’t actively playing. His sharp jawline was accentuated by the stadium lights, lending an almost chiseled appearance. Those brilliant blue eyes seemed to hold entire galaxies, capable of drawing me in for eternity. And that stubborn curl, always slipping loose despite his attempts to tame it, only added to his charm.

But beyond mere looks, Joe was the kind of person I had always dreamed of being with. He would genuinely listen to my rants about everything from the latest baseball trade rumors to my frustrations about life, never once dismissing my feelings. After each tough loss, his comforting messages would buzz in, encouraging me to keep my spirits high. We shared a unique bond—one that thrived on exchanges of SpongeBob memes that could always elicit a laugh.

In simple terms, Joe was my ideal guy. 

And right now? He was undeniably giving me butterflies.

As the halftime whistle blew, an idea sparked in my mind—a spark that I wasn't entirely sure would ignite into anything meaningful. With a mix of excitement and apprehension, I reached for my phone, my fingers hovering over the screen as I pulled up my messages and selected Joe’s name.

Me: Playing good, baby. Keep the pressure on them.

After sending the message, I set my phone down, fully aware that he was likely immersed in his own game mindset, focusing on the second half.

Ding.

Joe Burr 🧡: Thanks, baby. 

My heart fluttered at his response, a small victory in our playful back-and-forth that felt charged with promise.

@hoodharlow @enretrogue

[thatswhatsushesaid]

happy sunday!! time to remember how small and alone and frightened and scared nie huaisang looks while held captive in qishan!

specifically, that moment when he finds out qinghe has been taken by the qishan wen, and asks that sentient sphincter muscle wen chao, "what happened to my big brother?!"

and wen chao just smiles at him and says, "what do you think?"

anyway it low key broke my heart!! someone give huaisang a hug 🥺

[chocottang]

the more i think abt goldica the more i like it

[fcrir]

Can't help but think of a theory I saw about Zack viewing the church as a place of healing and how it ties closely to his relationship with Aerith and the comfort he easily finds with her. He met her when everything he knew and trusted was beginning to fall apart, and in that storm she was there in her own little heaven, crafting her own happiness away from the world above and it's troubles. It's something he never realized he was lacking, a moment of peace from war and the active life of a SOLDIER. Although he's the kind to prefer to always be doing something, he needed to stop and think, especially after Angeal's alleged betrayal that he was desperate to understand. At these instances of confusion, he would turn to the church, to Aerith, whether they would stare at the flowers, have a simple conversation or do nothing at all, he almost always finds a sense of clarity at the end, maybe not a clear and definitive comprehension but peaceful acceptance. Zack isn't secretive and rather honest with his emotions, but he tends to avoid the negative, or more accurately, to stall it, always hoping he would find the best in the situation and turn any negativity into something of use. And So, he doesn't speak much of the unhappy, doesn't wish to bring anyone down with him. That said, even the brightest of people are bound to break, losing Angeal had a heavy impact on him, and in the haze of that raw ache he instinctively sought comfort from the one person who's presence alone would offer him healing, felt like he drop the act of bravery around her, letting his emotions flow without restraint, which is a telling sign of his deep trust in her.

[franzkafkagf]

the funeral (a grotesque display of two queens’ grief, forced on them against their will) being interjected by images of aegon beating blood into a bloody ruin says something about how women’s grief is exploited and paraded around as a virtue while male grief is only allowed to exist in conjunction with violence.

female sorrow is expected to be public, dignified, and even noble, it serves as a symbol of quiet strength and resilience. otto uses it as a tool to gain sympathy for their cause. notice how he forced alicent and helaena into it, while he allowed aegon not to participate. wouldn‘t the king being at the funeral send a powerful message? yes, it would. but otto looks at aegon with contempt, the other councilmen and alicent do not know what to do with his tears. the realm cannot be allowed to see the king grieve. not like this.

male grief is denied its own space and validity unless it manifests in aggressive or destructive acts. aegon realizes this to some degree too— he lashes out publicly by killing the rat catchers. he shows his grief by being violent, by spilling blood.

the toxicity of it all is very effectively shown at the end when aegon is crying by himself. did he retreat there to be alone and finally let it all out? his mother is either letting him have that moment alone or she’s deeply uncomfortable with it and chooses to leave. no matter what motivated alicent in acting the way she did— the moment still reveals how male vulnerability is something people fear. it shows that even the most human expressions of pain are not acceptable for some.

[embbarnes]

Manhandle. | L.H

summary: Feral-ish Logan is obsessed with you.

warnings: Smut | 18+ MDNI | Porn no plot | Soft dom!Logan | PiV | Unprotected sex | Swearing | Light degrading | Dirty talk | Cunnilingus | Aftercare

a/n: I will die on the hill that Logan loves his partners a little chubby. Idc. I didn't have the patience to edit this ignore mistakes pleaseee. Reposted after deleting, reprised a little bit but I didn't bother to edit it so ignore mistakes. ;; wc: 2.4k

Logan cannot stand you for one reason and one reason alone: You drive him crazy.

Why the fuck are you so soft? Why do your hips sway so much? Why are you so doe eyed and sweet smelling?

His cock twitches in his pants as he sees you talking to another mutant. Fuck. He doesn't like it. He wants you for himself. He needs you for himself.

That's exactly what he does.

He grabs you and tugs you along, you of course go with him, being so sweet and naïve...when you're alone, he practically rips your clothes off. He normally would tease and play with you more, but he can't help himself. He's too eager, his patience is diminished.

Your soft gasp when he tore the fabric from your body made his balls grow heavy and a low growl rumble out of him. You were beautiful to him, your body drove him crazy. He felt hotter than normal, like he was going to die if he didn't have you. You made the most pathetic sound when his hand pushed between your legs and felt your soft folds, his calloused fingertips finding that sweet little pearl. "Fuckin' wet for me...from rippin' y'r clothes off, huh? You like it like this? Bein' manhandled?"

You felt your face heat up and your legs trembled, threatening to give out at any second. You stammered, unable to come up with a solid reply as you pathetically tried while his thick fingers explored your folds confidently. They prodded your entrance, making you tense a bit.

"Y'r tight, my damn finger has a hard time gettin' in here...how are you gonna handle my cock, princess?" he grabbed your face with his free hand, tilting your head up as he kissed you. His lips were warm, the taste of cigar and whiskey on them, a hint of salt and jerky. You melted into his kiss, even though he was claiming you this way. His tongue pushed into your mouth, invading you and exploring every inch as if he owned you. His teeth gently bit your bottom lip, he didn't want to overwhelm you too much, not yet anyway.

"That's it...whimperin' for me...you love this, I can tell by how wet you are. Can't imagine my cock in there...it's so tiny...have you ever been fucked before?" he grunts deeply in your ear, the sound making your entire body react as you shake. Your nipples erect and feeling stimulated by the fabric of his shirt as he stands close enough to rub against you.

"Logan...I...mmn, I have I just...-"

"You've never been with me baby, I'll show ya what a real man can do. I know when y'r fakin' too, you won't have to do that with me." He chuckled, his hand moving away from your dripping core and he grabbed your plush hips, lifting you up while his hands massages and groped the meat of your ass and thighs. "Goddamn...these things..." He threw you onto his bed, his hand on your belly for a moment, kneading you.

"Logan-!"

"I gotcha...just let me take care of you..." Logan's voice was gentle, but he sounded slightly condescending as he spoke to you, the clear teasing undertone made you whimper in response. His hands pawed at you like a man who had seen a naked woman for the first time, on your breasts, sides, hips. Hs grabbed your thighs again, eagerly holding onto your flesh and spreading your legs apart for him. "Such a fat cunt you have, looks comfy, you'll treat my dick well won't you, sweet thing? Perfect little home for it...that's where it belongs isn't it? You're lost without my dick in you."

You squirmed below him, feeling vulnerable and exposed as he held you down. You couldn't deny how hot your pussy felt, you wanted to demand for him to stick it in, to just fuck you into the mattress, but you also didn't want to admit it, playing the game a bit. Besides, Logan was clearly enjoying how you were acting, so you kept it up.

"Ah...please..." You begged lightly, your legs falling limp and allowing him to open them wider. You felt so horny by now, Logan had a way of bringing it out of you. Your core felt like it was on fire, and you needed his touch more than air.

He placed open mouth kisses on your inner thighs, his teeth grazing the thin skin and biting your flesh teasingly. You could feel the slick, warm muscle of his tongue barely touch your sensitive skin as he continued to knowingly tease you. After his painfully slow movements, he finally got to your center, his pupils blown like he was on drugs.

Logan growled deeply, exhaling through slightly parted lips as his hands came around and held your thighs tightly. His head lowered, nose nudged your clit as this man took a deep inhale of your sex. Your face heated immediately, suddenly feeling embarrassed he was smelling you so intensely. His nose buried, your wetness covering it as he investigated further into you until he was satisfied memorizing your scent.

When he pulled up, he barely pulled away for you to say something about his little display and his lips latched onto your clit, knowing exactly where it was after mapping out your cunt mentally. He was torn between making you squirm and beg, or just taking what he wanted. You were intoxicating to him, he hadn't felt his cock throbbing to painfully before, patience was not an option right now.

You made the sweetest sound for him when his encased your clit in his mouth, his lips securing around that pretty pearl and he lightly sucked on it. His firm hands held you still while you naturally squirmed around from the stimulation, keeping you down even when you tried to buck into his mouth more. Logan pulled back enough for his breath to warm your swollen bud, and he grunted, "Stay still. You don't get to move. I'll make you cum, I'll decide when you've had enough."

The tiny whimper that left your trembling lips was enough encouragement, but he wanted to push a little more. So, the smug bastard leaned up and over you, glaring down, his wet lips shining against the dull light of the room peering through his always drawn curtains. Still, when the warm sunlight did peek through, he looked gorgeous.

"Say it. Say you understand."

"I...I understand..." you swallowed the thick lump in your throat, not realizing how tight it felt until you spoke again. He smirked down at you, his eyes raking over your form and he let his hands knead your body a bit more. "So soft...perfect for me. I can really throw you around hm? You can take it..." he groaned as he felt your body, his hands moving up to your breasts and holding them, massaging and pinching your nipples like an eager virgin.

Logan moved down again, his mouth drooled as he took your clit once more, his tongue lapping and teasing the bud before dipping inside your entrance. He tasted you, groaning like an animal at your taste as his tongue went deeper. You hooked your leg around his shoulder and pulled him closer, finding a loophole in keeping your hips still.

Luckily for you, he enjoyed it enough to allow it.

"Stop squirmin' princess...I've almost gotcha ready." He continued to work your pussy until he felt like you were ready enough. He pulled away and licked his lips, "Now...open those pretty lips." he swiped his fingers over your folds and then held them to your pouty face. "You're such a dirty girl...doing everything I say, aren't you?"

He lightly spanked your pussy, then pressed his dick into your folds and rubbed to slicken himself. When did he take his pants off?

You were interrupted when his fat head poked your entrance, forcing you to stretch out around the soft flesh and allow him in. You mewled desperately, the burn of it was so addicting. "Lo...Logan..!"

"Shh, sh, you can take it." he whispered and pushed until his head popped inside. You gasped, just his head made you feel dizzy. And he kept going.

Inch after inch.

You were squirming and crying softly, he was so big, ugh it felt amazing but overwhelming all at once. "L-Lo..Logan, I..aah," you blabbered, his thumbs swiped your temples as he chuckled down at you, his body keeping you warm. He pressed his scruffy cheek into yours so he could whisper to you while his hips rocked against you, his wet head smacking gentle, sloppy kisses to your swollen cervix.

"Shh, good girl, gooood girl," he praised you in a low, soothing tone, his voice contradicting what his body was doing to you. You felt like you were on fire, pleasure was shooting through every inch of you while that delightful burn remained as strong as ever. "Y'r doin' good...so good. Takin' all of me inside ya...knew you could."

Logan's hips moved faster inside you, driving himself in and out at a much better pace for the both of you. He held your legs up and watched himself move in and out of you, admiring the beautiful arousal that coated into his curls. He deliberately made slow, long thrusts so you could feel the mold of his cock perfectly.

Every vein, the spongy head, how his cock formed your velvet walls and made you adjust.

It was everything you could've wanted from him.

While you memorized the shape of his dick, he suddenly threw your legs around his waist and he leaned over you, causing your hips to come up and off the bed a little. He began to drive himself inside at an animalistic, rough pace while he held you. His teeth bared as he let out the deepest snarl you ever heard from him. "You make me fuckin' wild, baby...look what y'r doin'...I'm actin' like how I should. A fuckin' animal."

You sobbed lightly from the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you, his cock hitting that delicious spongy spot inside that made you see stars. "Logan!! M'gonna cum...!" you cried, your fists balling the sheets by your head as you let out all your little sounds you tried to hide.

There was no reason to hide them anymore, honestly.

He kept going just as he was, knowing his movements and pace were perfect for you. "That's it...yeah baby, cum on my cock, show me how much you like it, milk my cock." Logan held your hips firm, his fingers dug into your flesh as he focused on his thrusts, driving deeper and deeper.

You finally let out a strangled cry, your vision blurring as your body released around him, clamping down on his dick like a vice and almost messing up his rhythm. Logan hissed, "G-goddamn-"

"I'm cumming, fuck! Don't stop, keep going, keep fucking me!" you screamed desperately, reaching you and clawing his shoulder blades, your hips rocking against his thrusts as your mind just focused on riding out your orgasm for as long as possible. He moved with you until he finally let loose, one single thrust in and his cock swelled and exploded against your pretty cervix, spraying his cum inside and filling up your little hole. He dripped out of you as he continued to fill you up, cum squeezing past his cock plugging your pussy, but the sheer amount of it couldn't be contained completely.

Logan's chest rose and fell quickly, his skin in a thin sheen from sweat, as was yours, and you both stilled as you regained your breaths together. You were in a complete daze, your mind foggy from pleasure and good hormones, his dick still buried inside you and felt so right.

"Good girl...fuck, my girl." he grumbled and nudged your head to the side with his own, kissing your jaw. "Did so well...down we go, easy," he lowered your legs while speaking to you gently, pulling himself from your body and watching as his cum flowed out of you. You whined at the absence of him, he just tsked and shushed you.

"Ah, don't give me that...we have to get you cleaned up. Be good for me, and I'll make sure you're nice and cozy after." Logan chuckled at your dazed expression, lifting you up a bit and smirking at how you whined into him.

"Logan....noo, just a little longer..." You pleaded lightly, trying your best to convince him, but he was not going to give in. Instead he picked you up with ease, your weight didn't bother him in the slightest, and he carried you to the bathroom.

"Clean first, then we can lay all you want." He set you down in the bathroom, knowing you were very exhausted by now and most likely coming down from your orgasm high, so he made the clean up quick. His touches were gentle, carefully washing the rag over your body and between your legs, getting all the sticky cum washed away. He stood behind you and kissed the nape of your neck, giving you goosebumps even under the hot water. "Doin' good for me...keep it up, we're almost done princess..."

When you were finally finished, you were so relieved to lay on the clean bed. Your body was much more worn out than you thought, before you collapsed, your legs trembled and almost refused to hold you up. You snuggled into the sheets, smelling heavily of Logan plus a hint of the earthy cologne he rarely wears.

He joined you a few minutes later, his strong arms wrapped around you and held you close. His hand slowly caressed up and down your side, gently squeezing and massaging you. His presence and the tiredness hit you after cleaning, and the drop of hormones made you want to sleep. Your body turned towards him, your face burying in his chest as you let out a shaky breath.

"Easy...I gotcha...sleepy girl. Go on and take a nap, I'll stick with ya until you wake...promise." He kissed the crown of your head and held you firmly against him, knowing you were going to fall asleep any second. You drove him so wild but he also felt a strong need for you in other ways. He wanted you for himself in every shape and form, you were so beautiful, and he would make sure you believed it and saw yourself as he did.

If he couldn't convince you with words, well...he can always fuck you again and make you see.

Thanks for reading - em 🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest

[eddie-van-munson]

What is my favorite Steve Harrington moment? Thank you so much for asking. It's "Oh..."

When Robin comes out to Steve, there is a moment where we're unsure about how he'll respond.

"But...Tammy Thompson's a girl."

"Steve..."

It's tense. He thinks for a moment, realizes what she means, and responds "Oh..."

There are so many ways that tiny little line could've been delivered. It could've easily portrayed disgust. It could've sounded surprised or confused or angry. It even could've been played for a laugh.

But somehow, Joe Keery managed to deliver that line in a way that is so unbelievably full of tenderness. It is soft and surprised, yes, but also comforting and apologetic. It's like he's realizing there's this whole part of her that he hasn't even noticed. It is understanding. It is empathy.

Every time I watch this scene, I can feel the tension that Robin is feeling, but I can also feel the relief that follows after that one little "Oh..." It's a far cry from the way we see Steve interact with characters in vulnerable positions like that in earlier seasons. Unbelievable amounts of growth are shelled in that "Oh".

How ridiculously impressive on Joe Keery's part that he was able to tell such a convincing story from one little sound. One of the most impactful examples of platonic love that I've ever seen in media. Maybe It sounds silly or like I'm reading too much into it, but I've always felt it so deeply no matter how many times I watch the show. It is so earnest.

[at0m-b0mb-baby]

“I love you.” — Arcane

how the main cast say “I love you” ft, Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Jayce, Viktor, Ekko and Sevika.

Jinx

♡ Jinx would confess her love impulsively, likely in the middle of one of her chaotic activities. She’d blurt it out without much thought, then immediately try to brush it off as if it wasn’t a big deal.

♡ It would happen in a moment of manic excitement—maybe while building a new weapon or causing destruction together.

♡ “You know I… uh… I love you or whatever, okay?! Don’t make it weird!”

♡ After saying it, she’d pretend it didn’t happen, avoiding eye contact. Deep down, though, she’d be terrified of your reaction but desperately want you to feel the same.

Vi

♡ Vi would say “I love you” after a significant or intense moment, like after a fight or while patching you up. She’d want it to feel real and grounded, not just something she throws around casually.

♡ She’d keep it straightforward but genuine, her voice softening in a way that shows her tough exterior is cracking.

♡ “Look, I’m not great at this, but I love you. You’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours. Always.”

♡ She’d look a little nervous but would quickly recover, smirking or teasing to lighten the mood if things felt too vulnerable.

Caitlyn

♡ Caitlyn’s confession would be deliberate and heartfelt, happening in a quiet, intimate moment. She’d want you to know she means it fully.

♡ It would likely happen during a calm evening, after she’s had time to gather her thoughts and find the right moment to say it.

♡ “I’ve been meaning to tell you… I love you. Truly. You’ve brought so much light into my life, and I can’t imagine it without you.”

♡ She’d watch you closely, her composure hiding subtle nerves. When you say it back, she’d smile warmly, radiating quiet confidence as she holds your hand.

Jayce

♡ Jayce’s confession would be grand and emotional, delivered with the same passion he pours into everything he does.

♡ He’d say it in a moment of triumph or vulnerability, possibly after a victory or while doubting himself and finding comfort in you.

♡ “You’re everything I didn’t know I needed. I love you, and I don’t want to go another day without you knowing that.”

♡ He’d look at you with loving eyes, his heart on his sleeve. Once you reciprocate, he’d pull you into a tight embrace, relieved and overjoyed.

Viktor

♡ Viktor’s confession would be quiet, understated, and deeply sincere. He wouldn’t make a grand gesture but would choose a private moment where his words would carry weight.

♡ It would likely happen late at night while he’s working, and you’re nearby keeping him company. He’d pause for a moment, realizing how much you mean to him.

♡ “I never expected to find someone who sees me… and accepts me as you do. I love you. I hope you know that.”

♡ He’d glance at you, his expression guarded but hopeful. If you say it back, he’d let out a soft, relieved sigh, his lips curling into a rare smile as he continues his work with renewed focus.

Ekko

♡ Ekko’s confession would be sweet and playful, with a touch of hesitation as he tries to gauge your reaction.

♡ It would likely happen during a casual moment, like while exploring the Lanes together or sharing a quiet conversation about your lives.

♡ “You know… you’re kinda my favorite person. Okay, scratch that—you are my favorite person. I love you. There, I said it.”

♡ He’d grin nervously, rubbing the back of his neck or looking away until you respond. Once you say it back, he’d laugh, relieved, and tease you lightly to mask how much it meant to him.

Sevika

♡ Sevika’s confession would be gruff, direct, and tinged with vulnerability she’d rather not show.

♡ It would happen in an emotionally charged moment, like after you’ve been in danger or during a rare quiet evening when the mood feels right.

♡ “I don’t say stuff like this. But… I love you. So don’t make me regret telling you, alright?”

♡ She’d watch you carefully, her eyes sharp but betraying a hint of nervousness. When you say it back, she’d exhale slightly, offer a small smirk, and likely distract herself with a drink to mask how much she cares.

[deconstructthesoup]

One thing I absolutely adore about Dead Boy Detectives is the immaculate costume design. Specifically, how it perfectly encapsulates who the characters are, both as a whole and who they are in the moment.

From the very first scene of the show, we know immediately that Edwin is a bookish, somewhat stuffy guy from the Edwardian era who attended a boarding school, and Charles is a punk from the 1980's who's most likely the wildcard between the two of them, just going off of the way that they're dressed. Both of them have distinct color schemes and different styles, but the general shape of their outfits is actually relatively similar---both of them have collared shirts (Edwin's dress shirt, Charles's polo), something over those shirts (Edwin's vest, Charles's suspenders), a jacket of some kind (Edwin's suit jacket, Charles's flannel thing), a longer overcoat (Edwin's traveling coat, Charles's peacoat), something around the neck (Edwin's bowtie, Charles's necklace), slacks, and nice shoes. They're distinct, yet matching, two clearly defined separate characters yet part of a set.

Edwin's prim, proper, buttoned-up personality lends itself to the way he dresses throughout the season---in the first episode, he only dresses down when he's in the office with Charles, aka his safe place and his safe person, and he doesn't really dress down like that again for a good long while after getting stuck in Port Townsend (though, if my memory serves me correctly, he does take off the suit jacket while watching TV with Niko). But in episode six, he's changed up his usual look for a cozier, casual-looking sweater and a little bit of collarbone, and in episode seven... well, he's in his nightclothes, and he's about as open, raw, and vulnerable as you can get. Edwin's color scheme is also predominately blue, which lines up nicely with his logical and practical, yet deeply sad and closed off personality, and the only time he really wears anything other than his normal blue-and-brown outfit (willingly, that is) is when he's in that green sweater in episode six. And, uh... all I can say is that it's quite telling how blue and green---or, well, teal---are the main colors of the gay/mlm flag.

Charles, by contrast, dresses down a lot, and that makes a lot of sense when you consider the fact that unlike Edwin, he feels comfortable pretty much anywhere. On any given episode, he goes from wearing his peacoat to just wearing his flannel to ditching the flannel to not even wearing the freaking polo---though, again, the latter is something that only happens when he's in the office with Edwin. Safe space, safe person. And, well, plenty of people have analyzed Charles's polo shirt going from red to burgundy to black over the course of the series, and there being a little bit of red under the collar of his coat that's only visible when Edwin fixes it, and then it goes back to burgundy, and then it's red again when Edwin's out of Hell... for good reason! It's color symbolism at its finest! Not to mention, the red and black not only perfectly contrasts Edwin's color scheme, but it also lines up with Charles's personality---he's a rebel, he's hotheaded, he's bold and brash and loud... and yes, he's angry, but he's also so, so loving.

When we first meet Crystal after she loses her memories, her outfit choices feel very deliberate. They're stylish and vaguely trendy, they're arty and a little bit witchy---pretty fitting for a psychic who's also a showbiz kid, even if she doesn't know that last part. But all of her clothes appear thrifted, or at the very least vintage, and the patterns and the general vibe all feel natural and comforting. Her makeup's always fairly simple, her hair's either down or up in a couple of cute space buns... overall, this Crystal looks like the kind of person who'd make you tea when you're in a bad mood, who'll listen when you just need to vent, and who may not always know the right thing to say but will understand what you're going through. But when we see her in the flashbacks, her clothing's flashy and prioritizes high-end trends over comfort, she's either got her hair up or has it straightened, and she not only has dramatic makeup, but acrylics. This is a girl who talks shit about you behind your back, who's bitter and cynical and wants everyone to feel the same way, who makes up for the lack of love and stability in her life via material things. It's also worth noting that Crystal's color scheme has a lot of purple, which is a color that connects to wealth and luxury, but also creativity and magic---which, yeah, fits her two conflicting sides pretty damn well.

You cannot talk about Niko Sasaki without talking about her outfits, and the meaning behind each of them has already been talked about at length. However, one thing that really stands out to me is that the reason they're so iconic isn't just because of the monochrome color schemes, but because they're out there. They're weird, they're eclectic, they're a little mismatched in style sometimes, and they're so unapologetically her. Niko wears heart-shaped sunglasses, unironically. Everything about the way she dresses speaks to how, even though she's a recovering shut-in who initially doesn't want to be perceived, she's still very sure of who she is.

Jenny's design, like Charles and Edwin's, is a design that gives you the key information you need the minute she first appears onscreen. The dark makeup, the silver jewelry, the leather apron, and the hairstyle all point to a person who's tough, doesn't take anyone's shit, and has long since given up on caring what other people think---in other words, she's a badass. But the butterfly tattoo hints at a softer side, a side that we see time and time again throughout the series as she shows that she cares about Crystal and Niko, and even the boys... eventually. Also, Jenny's design is perhaps one of the most clearly queer-coded in the series, to the point where her being a confirmed lesbian is pretty much a no-brainer.

Esther's design oozes camp, from top to bottom. The fluffy coat, the bustier, the boots and the cane and the everything, speak to a woman who's kept with the times and yet has seen it all. There's really not a lot I can fully say about her design, other than what Charles has already said: "She looks like a witch... like, kind of a sexy witch, who smokes a lot." (Or maybe I'm just tired and running out of steam at this point, idk, I love Esther's design and I can't really put it into words.) It's also pretty fitting that her color scheme has a lot of yellow in it---after all, she's always striving for more, so what better color for her than the color of gold?

Everything about the Night Nurse's design speaks to a woman who follows rules and discipline above all else, from the pantsuit to the pinned-up hairstyles to the tie to the heels. She's also the most muted out of the main cast in terms of color, dressing mostly in browns, dull greens, and duller browns---and while I don't have a lot to go into detail about there, I feel like that's kind of a symbol of her narrow-minded and bureaucratic worldview.

And the animal characters... Jesus Christ, I fully forget that they're all being played by human actors. Tragic Mick dresses like a man who's always spent his life by the sea, layered denim and all, and it's never a stretch to see this sad, bushy-bearded, baggy-clothed fisherman and imagine him as a walrus lounging on a beach. Monty, at first glance, seems to only wear black, which would be perfectly fitting for a crow, but when he's in better lighting, you see that he dresses in layers of red and blue, calling to how he envies Charles and Edwin and clearly longs for something more---and this might just be me, but I think that even though his outfits seem fairly normal at first glance, they feel kind of like a costume for Monty more than anything else, like he's trying to emulate a teenager that he's seen on TV more than someone in real life.

The Cat King fits this just as well, with all of his outfits aligning perfectly with whatever his cat form is at the time---when he's a fluffy ginger, it's always sequins and fur coats and clothing pieces that are specifically designed to take up space and call attention, and when he's a black shorthair, it's sleek styles and shiny leather and pieces that are designed to cut an intimidating yet more subtle figure. And while I could go into detail about all of those, what really stands out to me is how clearly queer everything is---more than Jenny's alt lesbian attire, more than Esther's campy coat and corset. From the very first scene he's in, he's wearing a skirt, and it looks natural. Nothing about the way the Cat King presents himself is exaggerated, nothing about the way he dresses is played for laughs---he's flamboyant and feminine and flirty, and he looks so fucking hot while he does it. It's gorgeous.

So... yeah, uh, all the awards for the Dead Boy Detectives costume designers!