#and i think he would have difficulty controlling himself

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

What would you say are Silver's biggest flaws? 

I know that, like with the other characters in TWST, he has more nuance than what he at first seems; I've gradually become a big Silver fan ever since he got more focus on book 7, but I feel that I still don't have a good enough grasp of his character to fully talk about him without unintentionally simplifying him to his most known traits. Because when Silver comes up in conversation, most people tend to talk about the more positive aspects of his character, when even Kalim-who is considered another of the more amicable students/characters in the main cast and in-universe-has had his flaws talked about in more depth by fans and meta writers than Silver has. To me his most noticeable flaw is that he tends to blame himself or feel responsible for things that, as far as I could tell, were beyond his control and that there wasn't much more he could do about it, but I feel that there might be more than just that.

I’d say that Silver’s lack of self-worth and overdedication are his most significant flaws. (I’ve discussed the topic at length in this post, so please give that a read, as I will not be repeating myself here.) Some other notable shortcomings include, but are not limited to: being dense/air-headed (which impairs his relationships with peers), limited capacity to think beyond the literal or in relation to combat (he comments that the heels on boots can be used as weapons on a pinch and, when prompted by Vil to think of a beautiful thing, Silver replied “you, Vil.”), tendency to blame himself for issues caused by his sleeping curse, and having difficulty emoting (which leads to misunderstandings with peers).

I think the issue with discussing Silver’s flaws is that people often attribute most of his traits as being positive without realizing how truly bad too much of a good thing can be. For example, Silver is “diligent”, which is usually positive—bur Silver is so “diligent” to the point where he constantly apologizes for things out of his control, adopts extreme methods in an attempt to stay awake, and beats himself up for not being able to meet certain arbitrary expectations he set up for himself, which is negative. I also think another issue is that many players don’t read book 7 (which is where Silver gets his deepest characterization) because they get stuck on the increasingly difficult battles in late book 6. On the other hand, books 4 and 5 are very manageable (and so you’ll have more exposure to Kalim and his shortcomings, but not necessarily Silver’s).

Before I close off 💦 I’d like to gently remind you (and honestly anyone else reading this!) that you’re allowed to “fully talk” about whatever characters you want 🙂‍↕️ You’re bringing up the topic, which already demonstrates an interest in having a discussion about it. If you had never mentioned it at all, then this talk would never be happening and no progress would be made.

Who cares if you “unintentionally simplify” a character to their “most known traits”? Can’t that theoretically be a good thing since you’d be explaining the character in an easy-to-understand manner for others to use as a basis for their opinions? And even if the interpretation you give is the complete opposite of the character in canon, what’s the problem? There is still value and merit in an inaccurate works. It can teach people what they don’t believe is true, which is still useful to know. My point is, there is no right or wrong way to discuss characters and you should “fully talk” as you wish. It’s not like ONLY certain fandom authorities or “accredited” fans are “allowed” to talk about certain things 😭 Don’t be afraid to start the discussion yourself!

[atwas-gaming]

I've had a scenario in mind for a while now about what it would take for Sonic to finally own up to his feelings about Amy. And I think what it would take is...

Shadow.

Well, just plain jealousy and a fear of losing Amy before he even has her. But Shadow would be the best one to instigate it.

First, some headcanons about how they behave romantically:

Amy's maturing and spreading her wings. She's not moving on from Sonic, not really, but it's possible that she's starting to notice other guys. There's some hints in the Twitter takeovers that she may be developing some small interest in Shadow.

Sonic is clearly interested in Amy, and if you pay attention, he has been for a long time. What he's not interested in is marriage- at least, not yet. And Amy is clearly wifey material- she cooks, she takes care of people, she has a caring nature, she's protective, and she's extremely loyal. She's not someone you can use for a one-night stand, you take all of her or you risk shattering her into pieces. She's Sonic's friend, no matter what else he may feel about her, so he avoids any romantic interaction because he doesn't want to hurt his friend.

Meanwhile, Shadow is... not aro-ace, per se, I don't know what you'd call him. He can see that Amy is attractive, but so is Rouge, and Shadow has no interest in Rouge. He just isn't interested in the physical side of romance.

What I think it would take to get Shadow's attention is something deeper, an emotional or spiritual connection.

So here's the Sonamy/Shadamy love triangle scenario that I came up with:

As Amy ages, she feels her desire for male companionship growing stronger. Sonic takes little notice of it, but it doesn't escape Shadow's attention.

Somehow or other, Shadow and Amy end up alone together, probably on a mission or something. I haven't figured out the exact circumstances, but they're together for quite a while. Amy loves to talk to people and get to know them, and Shadow has a soft spot for her, so she's able to get him to talk to her about things that he's probably never told anyone before. And he knows she won't tell anyone about them, either, so he feels safe telling her.

At some point, Shadow realizes, she's done it. She's broken through his barriers, and at the same time, she's calmed the storm of emotions that he's had swirling inside him for 50-odd years. He hasn't felt such peace since... no, not even then. This is something else. He's never felt this way before, and he doesn't have the words to describe it, but he's fallen head over heels for her.

This is why he never lets his guard down, even around the people he trusts most. Because if he lets them in, even a little bit, he might let them in too far. ("Can you see all of me, walk into my mystery, step inside and hold on for dear life.")

He loses control of himself and kisses Amy.

And when he lets go, he instantly hates himself, he starts throwing his barriers back up, because... she's crying. She's crying because she liked it, and she wants more of it, but she's still so desperately in love with Sonic, and she's starting to think she'll never get it from him, so she'll accept affection from just about any man, and it's not like Shadow's unattractive, and, and, and...

So Shadow's raw and open and hurting, he knew before he said or did anything that he was going down a dangerous path, but talking to Amy felt so good he didn't want to stop. And he wants to erase what just happened like it never did. But now he has to be the one to comfort Amy, because this was his fault, Amy was just being the kind and compassionate person she always was and Shadow was an idiot for letting it get to him and making more of it than what it was and losing control. So he has to keep his barriers down for just a moment longer, just long enough to hold Amy and tell her it's not her fault, until her tears finally stop.

It leaves Shadow burning with rage, and as soon as he can, he forcefully confronts Sonic (I imagine Shadow slamming Sonic against a wall or a tree and shouting in his face 😝) and basically tells him, "Amy needs attention from a man, she wants that man to be you, but if you can't grow up and do what it takes, then I'll be more than glad to take your place."

Which scares Sonic good and proper. It's bad enough to think that he could lose Amy, anyway, but to lose her to that faker??? And it finally makes him go to Amy and (very, very awkwardly) ask her to be his girlfriend. And... I'll let y'all imagine the rest.

As for Shadow... he, quite understandably, becomes somewhat aloof towards both Sonic and Amy for a long time after that.

But Shadow's immortal, right? And there's other Amy's in the world. He doesn't have to be alone forever.

Oh, and as for why Shadow would confront Sonic instead of just taking Amy for himself: because he respects both Amy and, especially, himself far too much to do that. He knows good and well she will never be able to fully commit to anyone else as long as Sonic is still an option. If Shadow was to start dating her, she'd go along with it, but it would become a power play between him and Sonic to try to "win" Amy's affections. Shadow has no issues with fighting Sonic over just about anything, but when it comes to his own feelings, he won't stoop that low, and he's not about to hurt himself by playing such a game. I also don't think he would view Amy as "a prize to be won."

[memientom0ri]

Similarities between Inhun/457 and Hannigram; personal analysis of the attitudes that connect these characters 💭

Starting with actor Lee Byung Hun's face. I don't even need to go into details...

• Villain disguised as a hero;

Inho/001 x Hannibal Lecter

Both wear a good guy disguise to get close to and mentally and psychologically manipulate their "target" of obsession, taking actions to impress and defend the target that sometimes make us question their villainy towards the good guy.

Both Inho and Hannibal seem to be desperately searching for a trace of understanding and similarity in someone towards themselves. Hannibal became obsessed with Will when he saw this similarity in him (both characters misunderstood by society, mentally broken and with difficulties in expressing and understanding their own emotions), and just like the cannibal, Inho saw something similar in Gihun, therefore, feeling the need to, somehow, get close to him to keep him under his control.

"But Inho and Gihun are completely different", yes, just like Hannibal and Will; that doesn't stop the characters from identifying with each other psychologically.

In my opinion, Inho saw in Gihun an ambition and confidence that piqued his interest. "But Gihun is not ambitious or self-centered" No, he is not, not materially speaking. Gihun's ambition comes from the will he has over the things he sets out to do. He is ambitious about what he wants and this ambition is accompanied by a hyper-empathy bordering on masochism, considering that Gihun returned to the game not only because of his desire to end it, but because of the guilt of having survived when people died, because of the desire to prevent other deaths. This hyper-empathy also shows up in other scenes, and this is where Will comes in.

• The hyper-empathetic good guy;

Will Graham × Seong Gihun

Unlike Will's hyper-empathy, which manifests itself through his ability to put himself in the Assassin's shoes and mentally experience the murders, Gihun's empathy is blatant, making us feel a little angry and uncomfortable with the situations in which 456 puts himself by thinking more about others than about himself. A scene that left me in agony was in season 2, in the first game, where he runs from the safe area to pick up a man who was shot in the leg. The man would have been killed anyway, but he insisted on picking him up with less than 30 seconds to go.

Unlike 456's blatant empathy, which almost makes him seem naive in several scenes (like when he gives his only extra ammunition to Inho to save himself in the future), Will's empathy is more "dark" and firm. Will doesn't trust people easily, much less Hannibal, while 456 trusts Inho/001 right away and from the first contact they are inseparable.

• Jealousy, Control and Possessiveness

I think that after their faces, these are the characteristics that Hannibal and Inho have most in common. Neither of them want their good boys to have anyone other than themselves. We can see Hannibal eliminating the people who get close to Will throughout the series, but with Inho, we follow the stages and moments of this jealousy until it reaches its peak (the final episode that resembles Mizumono). Inho observed Gihun's interactions with Jungbae (Gihun's longtime friend) in silence, just processing each moment and creating a mental bomb that would explode in the future (like when Jungbae made Gihun laugh, at night in the dorms, and the scene cuts to 001 listening under the bed in total DISGUST).

• Mizumono

Both villains analyzed here need to control their targets of obsession, manipulating them and trying to build a home in their heads, and when they realize they have been "betrayed", that's when the bomb explodes.

Hannibal felt betrayed by Will when he learned that he was helping in a plan against him behind his back (but we know that Will was so confused about his feelings and morality that he didn't even know who to go with), and then killed Abgail in front of him after a heartbreaking speech.

Inho felt betrayed by Gihun when, during a shootout in the player vs. soldier attack, Gihun said he would go inside to find the way out. Inho asked: "Shall I go with you?", and Gihun simply said that Jungbae would go with him. Later, Jungbae asks 456 why he chose him and not 001 who is more skilled with weapons, and Gihun answers that he chose him because they are friends. The next scene suggests that Inho, disappointed, listened behind the communicator, but we don't know if the communicators were on or not...

It's worth noting the expression on Inho's face when Gihun said that Jungbae was the one who would...

(POOR GUY 456 APOLOGIZE TO HIM AND TAKE HIM WITH YOU NOW

The Mizumono between 456 and 001 happens thanks to this event, when, later, after putting on his masked Boss costume, Inho goes to Gihun and Jungbae on the stairs. Just like Hannibal, he says heartbroken words (less dramatic and more angry) and eliminates Jungbae in front of Gihun.

Both killed people close and important to their targets out of possessiveness and hurt, out of a sick and incomprehensible feeling of betrayal; feelings that only they understand.

How can little sweet creatures like this be so DESTRUCTIVE.

There doesn't seem to be a need and mutual dependence in 457 like there is in Hannigram (at least not yet, there's still one season left), the obsession and interest come from Inho, but there is a notable chemistry and tension, smiles and exchanges of OBVIOUS glances.

I know that Hannigram is complex and very intense, I'm not making an extremely serious comparison, but rather recording some points that I observed and since I love both couples, I wanted to do this. The depth of the characters is obviously different, we're just making a fan observation here. ♡

[rowansinjune]

What video games would The Locked Tomb characters play according to my partner and I:

- Gideon loves fighting games with hot chicks. Her favorite is mortal combat because it's so brutal but no one will play against her cuz she always wins. She also plays fortnite

- Harrow exclusively plays weird and obscure jrpgs only published in Japan for the ps2. Gideon and Ianthe have no idea how she finds then

- Ianthe plays a lot of roblox. She started playing it ironically but enjoyed cyberbullying children so much it became a favorite hobby. Now she also has a circle of simps that send her free robux

- Camilla and Palamedes play souls games together; Cam plays them cuz she likes the difficulty and Sextus watches and gets really into the lore. Cam is admittedly pretty casual about the game and doesn't think much about builds, despite which she is very good and probably first-tried Malenia without really trying

- Both Pyrrha and Gideon the First like competitive shooters like Call of Duty. Gideon did have a Destiny 2 phase for a while which Pyrrha judged him for

- Nona plays a lot of Minecraft (but only in creative mode!) as well as the free princess dress-up games. Cam and Palamedes had to set up parental controls after she accidently stumbled into Else-gate content

- Mercymorn commits human rights violations in the Sims. She has a sim of every Lyctor and John often finds himself in a ladderless swimming pool

- Augustine gets really into visual novels and dating sims. Once the Mithraeum crew couldn't find him because he locked himself away to play Dream Daddy

- John was a Fnaf kid and had an Undertale phase. Nowadays though he only plays a lot of Solitaire and Tetris

[wemalyri]

what are enhypen members like in a relationship? jay ver.

pairing: idols!enhypen × fem!reader

w/c: 2,1k

warnings: relationship development, kisses, physical touch, smut under cut

a/n: if you liked it, likes and reposts are welcomed. //posting this while you're waiting for diet pepsi release (I'll post it in a few days I'm sorry yall). also jay is bias wrecking me tbh...

heeseung jay jake sunghoon sunoo jungwon niki

! remember that it's just my vision! we don't know the truth and you may not agree with me

the first meeting

Well.

I honestly feel like Jay has high standards for his woman. He respects every single one, but it’s difficult for him to find the right one. He knows his own worth and wants to find a soulmate, a partner for a life, not someone who he’s not sure of. Jay takes it really seriously and a bit too much romantically (sees romantic relationships through pink-colored glasses due to his lack of experience). I’m not saying he doesn’t know about the difficulties and responsibilities that relationships come with, but he may underestimate it because he doesn’t know how everything happens in real life. So it’s really important for him to find someone as romantic as him.

When he meets you, it’s almost obvious. Jay’s fascinated. Like really. You’re calm, collected, kind. For me, he’s one of the few enhypen members who can actually fall at the first sight. Of course, it’s not love yet, but Jay may already be thinking what ring would suit your finger the best. 

When he meets you, he’s acting like a gentleman (not like he usually doesn’t though). He pulls out a chair for you, holds the door for you, watches you through the entire evening. A little reminder — you just met. I feel like he can get carried away with his dreams, letting his romantic side take control over him.

When the evening in the company of you is almost over, Jay watches you checking your phone. Other friends, who were sitting at your table, start gathering their things. It’s time to leave. Yet, he can’t take his eyes off you, nervously thinking of what to do. Is asking for the number too cliche? What if you say no?

You catch him staring at you and look at him back. He gulps and nervously asks, “Do you have Instagram?”

You smile to yourself at his words, finding him cute, and give Jay your account. He’s the happiest alive.

friendship

It’s the only member I don’t feel like writing a friendship stage for. He’s already head over heels with you, what friendship are we talking about?..

Yet, I can say that he asks you out the same evening he meets you. Jay makes sure you don’t have anyone and starts his plan. I also can say that even though he liked you at the first sight, he won’t rush with things, wanting to make sure you’re the one. He would invite you to different places, watching how you react to certain things and listening to your stories about yourself. He laughs, worries, smiles with you. When you encourage him to talk about himself, he feels loved and heard. The way you listen to his stories from the past, paying attention to details, sometimes asking about his feelings, makes Jay melt inside. When you tap his back in reassurance, he slightly blushes, feeling flustered. 

After a while, he knows everything about you. Full names of your parents, your hometown, names of your favorite plushies from childhood, who was your best friend in the primary school, why you were scared to sleep in the dark, who broke your heart on the prom of high school, why you broke up with your ex in college and why he was an asshole. Jay makes sure to remember every single word you say and the way he succeeds in it causes your heart to beat faster.

his confession

When Jay ensures you're the one, he wants to confess to you in the most romantic way. He doesn't care how much time or money he has to spend to make his confession to you perfect — Jay's ready to spend it all just to make you happy.

However, choosing a perfect way to confess is harder than he thought. Restaurants are already common for you two, late night walks are too simple. Finally, Jay decides on the restaurant with a terrace, where you can see the night sky.

After dinner, he clears his throat to start his speech.  “Y/n, I need to tell you something that you already might know,” Jay started looking at his trembling fingers on the table.  “It was difficult to choose this place. Even though it took me a long time to find it, I still don’t feel that it’s enough for you. I want to give you more. If you asked me to, I would try to find a way to give you this sky,” he chuckled, looking at the stars, “Just for you.” Your heart melted at his words, but you didn’t interrupt him. “You’re really important to me. And I hope you feel the same way,” he took a deep breath before saying, “I like you. A lot.” The smile on your face and a warm, whispered answer made Jay awkwardly chuckle. He felt relieved. “Can I?..” he asked, reaching for your hands on the table. As you gave him a nod, he held your hands, caressing their soft skin. 

relationship

I’m going to say the most obvious thing again, but he’s a gentleman. Everything that he did while not dating you multiplies by ten, when he’s finally your boyfriend. Flowers, gifts, acts of service, his full attention — all of that now belongs to you. However, at the first time of the relationship Jay can be awkward. You make him feel things he never experienced before. He smiles at the smallest things, his world becomes brighter. Everyone around him notices it. He’s not so gloomy in the mornings, and doesn't get annoyed as easily as he used to. He’s more patient with everyone, which makes others question his behaviour. Jay reminds himself everyday to do his best with you. You're the person he wants to stick with for a long time and he wouldn’t forgive himself if messed up. 

His love for you is luxurious. Not because Jay takes you to expensive places, not because he doesn’t care about prices of the presents he gives you. It’s all about the way he feels with you. Jay’s expression of love is romantic, he takes time with you, enjoying every single moment and making sure you’re enjoying it the same way. His confidence boosts when you listen to him, pay attention to his feelings. It’s really important for him — to be heard. Jay wants to be the first person you’d come to after something happens — bad or good. He wants to be your first place the way you are for him.

After some time, Jay gets used to you by his side. He still treats you the same way, but now your presence in his life feels more comfortable. He doesn’t get overwhelmed easily anymore, yet your smile makes him feel like he’s in the right place. 

Another obvious thing — he’s husband material. He’s a grown man — not the one who yaps about it, but the one who shows it through actions. He’s mature. Yet, he loves when you let him be childish sometimes. He’s responsible. Yet, he feels wanted and loved when you suggest cooking for him, taking care of him without a reason. Just because. Just because you want him to feel safe and loved with you.

When the relationship develops, Jay learns a lot of things about himself and relationships. He finds out that sometimes it can be even more difficult than he thought. But he’s ready to overcome those things for you, for both of you. 

I can also imagine him introducing you to his parents… (I’m sobbing rn) When Jay finds out you have to spend winter holidays alone, he immediately invites you to his house. His parents greet you warmly and at this moment when you’re surrounded by love and affection from him and his family, you feel like you’re finally home.

first kiss

The type to prepare in advance. Yet, he’s nervous as fuck. 

Jay makes sure to be attractive enough for you — brush his teeth, use a lipbalm, stare at you for the whole date (not like he doesn’t do it all of the time). He wants it to be romantic, memorable, perfect. He wants you to feel comfortable, wants to make you feel loved and cared about. 

Jay invited you to the restaurant where he confessed to you months ago. The night sky was covered in stars, the moon illuminating everyone and everything. As you were admiring the view, leaning on the railing, Jay was admiring you. “So pretty…” you mumbled, not looking away from the sky. “It is,” Jay answered and you turned to him with a small smile, finding him looking at you instead of the night city. Your cheeks went slightly red, but you prayed it would go unnoticed in the darkness of the night.  Jay brushed away a strand of your hair. The tension between you was evident, making you feel a bit heated. Jay leaned closer to you, stopping to give you a chance to pull away, his presence intoxicating, yet not forceful. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he breathed out heavily, “Can I?..” you nodded and he slowly leaned closer, softly pressing your lips together. So there were — only two of you and your flushed cheeks hidden in the darkness of the night. 

18+ UNDER CUT

first time

The type to plan it, but not forcefully. It’s like he can feel something’s coming by the way your lips press to his each time longer when you say bye after your date, or by the way you look at each other in silence, tension evident in the air. You’re both careful, communicating without words, yet both of you know what’s coming. That’s why Jay bought condoms and started carrying them around every time you go on a date, that’s why he started telling members that there is a possibility he won’t be back to the dorm tonight. Just… in advance.

When it finally happens, it’s so natural and expected that you don’t even talk about it first. You just make out, slowly like you have all the time in the world, but emotionally, putting your feelings to each other in the kiss.

Wet sounds of the kisses feel your apartment even before you make yourself close the door behind you. Jay presses you to the nearest door — not roughly, carefully. His hand flies to your hair, making sure to hold you close, another one settles on your waist. You hold onto his shoulders, making his stomach flip.  “You should tell members you won’t come back to the dorm today,” you whisper when Jay pulls away to take a breath.  “No need,” he hungrily presses his lips to yours again, “they already know.” You pull away with widened eyes, “Did you plan this?” “No,” Jay chuckles, looking into your eyes, “Just was waiting.”

I feel like Jay is the type to control himself during sex. He mostly focuses on your needs, forgetting about his own even when his hard cock clings to his pants.

His lips traveled down your neck to the collarbone, exploring your soft skin and making you arch your back already. “Gosh, you’re so responsive,” Jay whispers when his mouth is already on your tits. You feel his hardness pressing to your thigh and you make an attempt to tell him about that. “Jay, you-” he interrupts, spreading your legs, clearly understanding that he was already leaking.  “Don’t worry about me. Forget it,” his lips suck on your skin making you gasp for air, “Just let me make you feel good. Focus on yourself.”

When Jay slides inside he’s really careful. He goes slowly even though it’s hard and the way you clench around his dick only makes him more sensitive. 

“Shit, sweetheart,” Jay groans, throwing his head back (did you see that one clip btw—) His dick deliciously hits your G-spot and you whine at the feeling.  “You’re so tight…” Jay groans again, leaning closer to your ear. It makes you even more aroused and your legs wrap around his waist. He needs some good luck. After all, he’s just a down bad man…

+bonus

When you get used to each other, Jay still makes sure to please you in all the ways possible. Sex for him is a chance to express his dedication to you (most of the time), so he’s careful with it. The only thing he wants from you is to be honest with him and open about your needs. You want him to be rougher? He’ll do it. You want to add some spice? He’s up for it. You want to recreate your wet dream? He’s already there. 

He’s that type of man who knows he’s a pleaser for his woman and he’s proud of it. He doesn’t get shy about it as long as he knows you have everything you wish for. 

(you can tell how much jay bias wrecked me by the w/c to the fic (just look at other members' w/cs...))

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

come back. l Joel Miller

Summary: first steps together

Warnings:  +18, smut, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that), Ellie is mean to Joel

A/N: I guess I'm not done with them yet. Sorry!

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

Everything was getting out of control, or maybe that's how it was supposed to be. Maybe he had already forgotten what it was like to lose control over himself, to be carried away by the moment and emotions, when instincts take over you, when you're a little selfish. Now it was all happening at once and Joel felt like a hurricane was raging in his body.

Your lips tasted of sweet wine, he felt the curves of your body under his hands, your fingers were intertwined in his hair. And he felt amazing. 

You were sitting astride his lap. The dress you were wearing was rolled up enough so that Joel's hands had access to your thighs.

Holy shit! Everything he had closed so tightly years ago was now exploding with new force.

He invited you to dinner, to spend the evening as if the world outside the walls of Jackson hadn't gone crazy, and you were just two people close to each other. When you showed up at his door in that dress, Joel believed that this could really happen.

You looked different than usual. You were a little embarrassed, it had been years since you last wore something nice. Joel's reaction was also specific, he was totally surprised and had a hard time greeting you.

And now you were on this couch, and his tongue was deep in your throat. Big, strong hands squeezed your buttocks, and you moaned feeling the hard bulge in his jeans under you.

"Wait." he whispered, pulling away from your lips for a moment, his hair was already a total mess from your hands. "Are you sure you want this?"

"Joel..." you sighed, smiling. "Do you think I would wear a dress if I wasn't sure?"

You saw him swallow. The last parts of his brain were trying to fight something he wanted so badly. He saw your glazed eyes, swollen lips, you were breathing deeply and your chest was heaving gently.

"Don't you like me?" Your question tore him from his stream of thoughts.

He grabbed your hand and slid it between your bodies where his hard cock was trying to get out of his jeans. You smiled and bit your lower lip feeling the hard shape under your fingers.

"That's a nice compliment." you stated "Please, Joel... I've been thinking about you for so long. Don't make me wait."

"Were you thinking about me?" he asked and you nodded eagerly.

"I didn't want to tell you anything though. We were friends, partners. Besides, Ellie was with us. I didn't want to, I didn't want to say something that you wouldn't reciprocate, and I would ruin what we had."

"Fuck, darling." he sighed, with difficulty pulling your hand away from his crotch. Just a little more and he would have exploded into his jeans like a fucking teenager. "I- I thought about you too. So many times..."

"Did you touch yourself then?" he looked at you surprised. "Once, when you were on watch, I woke up and I think I heard you. I didn't want to disturb you, but then I heard my name and..."

Joel cleared his throat. "Yeah, I guess I did. It's embarrassing."

"It's sexy." you corrected him and kissed him hard so he would definitely believe your words. "Take me to your bed, Joel."

You didn't have to repeat it a second time.

Although Joel had seen you naked before, he had never seen you like this. His eyes took you all in. When the dress fell to the floor, his heart stopped for a moment, then started racing.

"What do you think?" you asked uncertainly.

He was unable to answer, his voice caught in his throat. Instead, his hands rested on your face and he kissed you hard. Your fingers unbuttoned his shirt and soon moved to his chest.

Joel couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him like this. Gently, with feeling. Your closeness and tenderness were peeling off layers of him, and it wasn't just about clothes. 

You stumbled backwards and your legs hit the edge of the bed. Joel slowly laid you down, and then his eyes moved over your entire body.

"Stunning." He said quietly, and you could see in his eyes that he was telling the truth.

He slowly unbuckled the belt on his jeans and slid them down, his dark eyes never leaving your face. Without a word, his hands reached for the edges of your panties and slid them too.

Your skin was already so sensitive that every touch of his was felt by you even more strongly. You had never felt anything like this before.

Joel climbed onto the bed and closed you between his broad shoulders. Your lips found each other again. The heat radiating from his body was overwhelming and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. You wanted to feel him next to you, on you, inside you, in every way possible.

Only him.

Kisses went down to your neck and cleavage, you moaned softly as he squeezed your breast.

"You're perfect..." he whispered "So fucking perfect..."

"Joel, please..." you moaned.

You needed anything to help you, to give you relief, from the growing arousal between your thighs. And he gave it to you. The same hand slid down your hip and found your hot center, you were already wet and slippery with desire.

"For me?" Joel smiled slyly, and you felt the heat creep up your neck.

"Please..."

The colossal fingers slid over your folds and soon you felt a pleasant pressure as they slid into your heated core.

"Fuck, baby..." Joel looked in awe where his fingers disappeared inside you "You wrap them so well. I can't wait to be inside you."

You couldn't answer. The feeling was overwhelming, you would never be able to give yourself something like that. Joel's fingers seemed to find all the spots in you that made your head spin. You gasped as his warm lips captured your nipple, sucking hard. Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling it harder than you intended. You were so close...

"I'm holding you, baby girl." his warm breath on your sternum "Let it go."

He lightly bit your other breast, his fingers sliding in and out of you harder and harder and soon you were tightening your legs around his hand as the pleasure flooded your body.

"Fuuuuck!" you moaned, arching your back.

Joel had never seen you more beautiful. He wanted more. To see, to feel, to taste, to experience. With you. 

He slid down his boxers, and his hard, swollen cock appeared in full. Joel grabbed it at the base and rubbed your juices along its entire length.

"It's been a while." he said, noticing your gaze. "I can...fuck... I might not last long."

"I don't care, Joel." you said. "I want to feel you. This is enough for me. I want you to cum too."

The head of his cock brushed against your entrance. For a moment you felt anxiety whether he would fit, whether you would be enough for him, but then you felt him start to slide into you. Inch by inch. 

Your walls stretched and took him inside, your hands tightened around his strong shoulders. When Joel entered all the way, you both froze for a moment. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, breathing deeply.

"Fuck..." he sighed "I didn't expect this, give me a moment."

"Take as much as you need." You replied, stroking his shoulders. "You feel wonderful. You fill me completely."

After a short moment, his hips moved. He pulled out a little and pushed, as if to see if he could hold out. You pulled your legs up, and he tightened his grip on your thigh, then lifted his head and looked straight into your eyes. You didn't need words.

Joel's movements were steady, aimed straight at that spot he found inside you, that made you fall apart under his hands. He wanted to see it again, he wanted to feel you clenching around his cock now. Your panting mixed with the dirty sounds of skin slapping against skin, with how wet you were as he entered you at that steady pace.

You pulled his face to yours, kissing him hard. A hot tongue slipped between your lips and you moaned, but he silenced you well. He hit you harder, the air flew out of your lungs. Again and again. 

You woke up everything in him, between your thighs he could find fulfillment and redemption, he wanted it all, and you gave it to him with pleasure.

Another orgasm was building inside you incredibly fast.

"Joel..." you moaned.

He rested his arms on either side of you and didn't slow down. His eyes were black as night, he wanted to see you lose yourself in him again. He needed it.

"Give it to me again, baby. Don't hold back." he panted.

You didn't have a chance to answer. Another wave flooded your body and all your senses. Your eyes rolled back, you almost bit your lip. Joel didn't slow down, even though he was already close to the edge.

"Fuck!' he groaned loudly and pulled out of you.

His seed spurted onto your lower abdomen in hot streams. Although he was breathing deeply, he felt like he was constantly out of breath. He squeezed his eyelids shut trying to calm down. Only your delicate hand, which rested on his cheek, brought him back to life.

"Shit, baby..." he mumbled "I'll clean it up right away. I didn't think that... That was..."

You lifted yourself up and kissed him, and Joel returned the kiss with pleasure. You felt the smile that appeared on his lips and you smiled to yourself. 

This was it. This was the guy who was always there for you, who always gave you his arm as support, who shielded you with his body, who was there for you. He was everything.

His heart gave a strange throb when, going downstairs, he heard familiar chatter in the kitchen. Ellie was delighted with something and was telling you about something, and the pleasant smell of breakfast and coffee filled the house.

His clean shirt clung to his still damp body, and his hair was still wet, even though he had combed it back. When he woke up next to you in the morning, he couldn't help himself. You were still a bit sleepy when he slid into you, but you welcomed him with pleasure. 

It was slow, tender and gentle. He imagined mornings like this when he allowed his thoughts to be carefree for a moment. After everything, he pulled you into the shower, where his hands shamelessly explored your body. He didn't know the words to describe what he felt.

When he went down to the kitchen, Ellie's gaze immediately landed on him. A victorious smile appeared on her face.

"I see the evening was a success." she said, and seeing Joel frowned, she quickly added "Can you still do these things, old man?" 

You barely managed to stop yourself from bursting out laughing and were glad that you were standing with your back to Joel, making him coffee. Ellie was probably going to give him hell.

"That's none of your business, kid." Joel grumbled.

"I hope you're wrapping yourself up, because I'm not going to babysit your kids." she added. "You have to be a fucking responsible adult, Joel."

"Can you... Fuck!"

You quickly turned around and put the cup of coffee in front of him, giving him a gentle smile. Ellie looked at both of you and shook her head.

"I think I'll go now." she said, standing up and putting the last piece of toast in her mouth. "The atmosphere is getting stuffy."

"It's not getting stuffy at all." Joel replied, but she was already putting on her jacket.

"Wrap yourself up!"

"Ellie!"

The girl smiled at him widely, seeing that she hit all the soft spots and quickly gathered her things. Soon the front door slammed and her footsteps echoed on the porch.

"Don't be mad at her, she loves to tease you." you said seeing Joel roll his eyes "She was happy to see me here this morning."

"The house was empty without you, she wasn't the only one who missed your presence."

He walked up to you, his hands resting on your waist. You were wearing some of your old clothes and he wished it was yesterday's dress. You looked so good in it.

"I'm glad you stayed," he said.

"Me too." you replied stroking his cheek, he kissed the inside of your wrist tenderly and you smiled "Are you hungry? I made breakfast."

"Come back here." Joel interrupted you, a small wrinkle appearing between your eyebrows "Move back here. I don't want another morning without you, it was torture."

"Joel..." your lips lightly brushed his "Are you sure? Maybe we shouldn't..."

"I'm fucking sure. Listen, I've wasted a lot of time. I don't want to do this anymore. When you left..." he sighed as if he remembered something really bad "It wasn't just this house that was empty, you know."

"I felt the same way. I was hurt, but I couldn't stop thinking about you or Ellie. You're all I have."

"So come back to us. To me. Please..."

Your smile was the answer he needed. He leaned in, kissing you hard. That day, he felt like he was finally alive.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi

[thehatboxwitch]

anaxagoras yandere profile. gender neutral, TW // nsfw mentions, yandere. credits once again to cinnamonest. :)

What is he generally like? Is he self-aware, lucid, or obsessive? How does he behave?

Anaxa has the inherent desire to understand, and through that, conquer. It's the reason why he refuses to acknowledge gods as a power greater than himself, and why he believes strongly that the flame-chase is an unnecessary endeavour.

In that vein, he spirals into a sort of delusional, worshipping, yet condescending attitude towards you. He treats you like... a god in his grasp that he can control and own. We know he's obsessive through and through, and he can be blindsided by his own stubbornness and insistence on being right. (Granted, he usually is, which doesn't help your case.)

He's not quite lucid like Phainon or Mydeimos would be - he acts in his own way, and treats you as some sort of experiment. If you end up loving him back, that's the preferred outcome, but hating him is just an obstacle to him. Anaxa is convinced he would have some way to warm you up to him, just another problem to be solved.

How do you meet him?

I imagine the situation to be something domestic and peaceful - maybe you encounter him in the market and strike up friendly conversation. Anaxa is fascinated by the attitudes of the people of Okhema towards life, their ability to carry on with their grocery shopping and gossips like the world is no bigger than they perceive it. You’re bright but not terribly so, just enough to meet him with an open mind and polite curiosity.

He'd like someone sharp enough to bounce off (dull knives bore him terribly), but not really someone sassier or more troublesome than himself. He likes the feeling of being relied on as well, and having someone to come home to after galivanting about and setting Aglaea's temper off.

How likely will he kidnap his darling?

8.5/10 - it does seem quite likely. Be it in his personal home or in the Grove, Anaxa would want to keep you somewhere where he could monitor you at all times, like mould in a petri dish of his making. If he doesn’t kidnap you, be prepared to have people breathing down your neck at all time; students from the Grove, guards, even Anaxa himself. But it’d be easier for him to simply sweep you up and take you wherever he’s going next.

How difficult is it to escape from him? How does he restrain his darling? How does he deal with attempted escape?

If Anaxa doesn’t presently need you for anything, he doesn’t really care if you’re wandering elsewhere in the house trying to avoid him. He has traps and mazes set up to confuse you and keep you occupied, and when you think you've gotten out, you realise you've just been turning in his palm all along. Difficulty 10/10 - he knows you better than you know yourself.

Attempted escape is just another something he takes in stride. Your penchant for trying to get out all the time is something he encourages to an extent. He nudges you in the direction of little clues, like letting slip that a window is unlocked somewhere, then amuses himself watching you scurry around, straining your mind to work out his puzzles like watching a mouse solve a scientist's maze.

Usually 'punishment' is something of an NSFW nature. It's more of a reward for him, really.

How easy is it to trick, deceive, or manipulate him?

0/10. It's not easy, and Anaxa would never let you even think that you've led him on. It doesn't play to his ego. There's no trickery, deception, or manipulation that he lets slide. This is where he draws the line - lies are a big negative for him, and if you want to piss him off, this is probably how to do it. But I wouldn't recommend it. Anaxa has a fearsome temper.

What kind of punishments would he use?

Anaxa's punishments range from evil (academic) to evil (physical). If he so desires, he sticks you with painstakingly sorting through a stack of papers, arranged by year, in alphabetical order. Tiring, mundane tasks like that. It frustrates you so badly to tears that you often think twice before going against him again.

Evil (physical) punishments would be NSFW. He doesn't really mean for them to be punishments more than he means them to be a reward for himself. He'll deny you pleasure, have you serve him until your jaw aches, leave bites and bruises until you're red and raw. He likes the power that he has over you, and he likes knowing that your body can be manipulated to betray you.

How does he deal with rivals, or perceived rivals?

He doesn't quite perceive people as rivals, but rather nuisances that are getting in his way. Be it a brother who's sniffing around too close to the truth, or a colleague who wants to have a meal with you one time too many, they're all the same to Anaxa. Just another obstacle to be overcome.

He's an efficient individual. He can't really be bothered with the patience of having to manipulate and work someone out of your life, so if they disappear, it's likely that they're dead. Anaxa would never trust anyone other than himself with such an important task, so you can trust that he'd be the one with blood on his hands.

How easy is it to make him mad? What does his anger look like?

Fairly easy, if you know where to hit where it hurts, but it also depends on his mood. Sometimes Anaxa finds it amusing how hard you're trying to rile him up, and he plays your game, deflecting and working you into a corner until you have nowhere to go and have to admit defeat. Other times if he's had a long day, he doesn't quite have the patience to play mind games. You'll quickly find yourself pinned down and silenced that way.

Does he see you as above, beneath, or equal to him?

Beneath him, absolutely. He doesn't believe in gods. What do you think?

How determined is he for you to love him, or is he content just having you?

Anaxa isn't really that determined, honestly. He's here to play the long game, not really to win - if either of you die and you've never loved him, so be it. Some projects are simply destined to end in failure.

That's not to say that he won't try, of course. The fun is in the journey!

General perverseness: How sexual is he? What's his drive like? Touchy?

It's not quite about the pleasure for him, but the power. Like I mentioned earlier, he likes knowing that he's able to manipulate your body and have it betray you - which to him is the ultimate, most intimate betrayal.

He's not against all the pleasure of it all, of course. If he so wished, Anaxa might get turned on by just seeing a sliver of your skin or you could be grinding against him with zero reaction. He treats touch as more of a tool, rather than finding comfort in it i.e. holding you close, restraining you, guiding you through whatever pleasure he wants (or doesn't want) you to experience that day.

What body parts of his darling does he like the most?

Waist. He likes holding you around it (even if you're bigger), tucking you into his side and very much unable to get away. Or he holds you as he guides you up and down as you ride him.

What is it with him and power? Poor thing.

[mothinkling]

TOUCHSTARVED X CURLY-HAIRED!GN!READER (HC)

Summary: HC on each of the Touch starved LI with a GN!reader that has curly, wavy hair and all the pain that can come along with it.

TW: None, ya freak.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent, by the way.

KURAS; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ His own hair appears to be quite wavy, and I wouldn't be surprised if he had a few curls himself in the back of that long beautiful, scrumptious, perfect--

♡ But that doesn't necessarily mean he'd be the best equipped to deal with it, he's connected to his own body; but he simply doesn't feel the same sensations as a human would.

♡ He'd like to brush your hair, but I'd expect a couple snags on the comb.

♡ If you can deal with that, you'll be rewarded with the soft, curious eyes he'll send your way as his long fingers brush through each curl and strands with upmost gentleness.

♡ "I must confess that I'm not experienced in dealing with more cosmetic difficulties, but I'll do my best to lend any expertise."

♡ One saving grace would be his access to many oils and different herbs that could be used as moisturizers and anti-frizz serums.

♡ He'd prattle about scalp health while gently rubbing them onto your curls, observing them like fascinating test subjects.

♡ He might wonder why you don't simply cut your hair if it causes so much difficulty, but he'll keep that to himself to respect your autonomy.

♡ We love a respectful king.

VERE; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ The beauty queen himself, his obsession with his own appearance would actually lend quite well to your issues.

♡ His hair is naturally quite straight, leaving him in the position to be quite teasing whenever your hair frizzes up.

♡ ''Rats nest? mm, quite a bold choice, my dear."

♡ But once he realizes it's out of your control/you might not have the proper equipment to deal with it, he'll ease up a bit.

♡ Oils and moistures will be lying around in abundance when it comes to him, but that isn't to say he'll actually let you use them.

♡ At least at first, enough wheedling and growing closer and perhaps he'll let you get your sticky fingers onto his abudance.

♡ And if you ask real nice, perhaps he'll even apply it himself.

♡ He'd act incredibly put out when he sees you struggling with a comb, as if the very sight itself is causing him physical pain.

♡ His voice would be faux annoyed, but his hands would be gentle as he took both the comb and a section of your hair, gently using the comb and started parting the locks.

♡ Since he brushes his own tail almost religiously, he's well aware of the pain that can come from tugging on strands.

♡ That wouldn't stop him from being an asshole about it, of course, he'd be happy to pull back your hair in warning if you say anything he doesn't like.

♡ You know he'd buy you a silk bonnet, I'd be surprised if he didn't have one of his own lying around somewhere in his room, he appreciates the finer things in life.

♡ And you, my dear, are the finest luxury this desolate city could ever provide.

MHIN; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ They don't like their own hair being touched, something that's a major point in any sort of relationship you might have with them.

♡ In a way, they sort of project their own boundaries onto other people; they don't like their hair being touched so they don't touch yours either.

♡ Your mess of hair is your problem to deal with. smh so rude.

♡ They don't see how brushing fingers through locks or gently scratching at your partners scalp can be appealing in any way, ever use to pain as they are.

♡ The first time it'd be brought up would be them chastising you for the amount of frizz or curls in your face, in their eyes it's a battle disadvantage.

♡ They'd think it's unnecessary but wouldn't bother telling you to cut it; it isn't their business, and if it hinders you, that's your problem.

♡ They're far from wealthy themself; they don't exactly have access to any products- and with their own hair being so straight, they never had a need.

♡ But as your relationship and trust grows, they are more likely to ease up on their vehement distrust.

♡ Imagine carding your fingers through their feathers, when they're at their lowest point; they still trust you enough to let you brush your fingers through the delicate feathers, giving them the pleasure they've been deprived of for so long.

♡ Ahem, they might consider brushing your hair after that, only if you ask oh-so-nicely.

LEANDER; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ Lost puppy when it comes to your hair, all he knows is that he finds it beautiful.

♡ I wouldn't trust that man to deal with your curls at all, it isn't for a lack of him wanting to; he'd likely have been the one to ask in the first place, eager to brush his hands over your hair.

♡ He's a bit too.. inventive, even if he has access to oils and moistures to deal with any sort of frizz or dryness, that doesn't mean he'd simply settle for that.

♡ He wants to take care of you he wants to be the only one to care for you and if that means getting a little creative when combing through your locks, he's far from put out.

♡ ''Who needs treatments when you have the magic touch, beautiful?"

♡ For your own sake it's better to simply do it yourself, less you want coconut oil that gives your hair sentience.

♡ Oh but how he'd try so hard when combing through your hair, if you manage to hide the winces and hisses as it snags on the comb every five minutes, you'll get to feel the reverence in every touch.

♡ And if you catch him keeping a couple of loose strands for himself, no you didn't. :)

♡ It gets quite hot at the Wet-Wick, especially when it's abuzz with activity on a late night; if you're anything like me, that means frizzyness.

♡ He'd find the look quite adorable actually, ruffling your hair to make it worse as his tired eyes drag over the fuzzy strands.

♡ He'd be upset if you cut it, removing any part of your perfect being would make him pout like a small child, wheedling you on why you'd remove such a sexy part of yourself?

♡ 10/10 curls enthusiast.

AIS; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ He loves to wrap a small curl around his finger while he's speaking to you, lowering his voice all teasingly as he tugs gently enough to not cause you pain, but for a shiver to run down your spine.

♡ I don't make the rules, sorry. :/

♡ Theres bound to be plenty of people within the hivemind who have curly hair, enough to let him tap into the knowledge.

♡ But that won't stop him from being a snarky little shit about it, feigning confusion that could've been convincing if it wasn't for the shit-eating grin on those lips of his.

♡ Don't let him comb through your hair if your heart can't handle the adrenaline of near missed 'accidents'.

♡ "What do you mean, 'don't tug', sparrow? thought you liked it when I pulled your pretty little hair."

♡ Yeah you should wear a bonnet at night unless you want to wake up to his fingers weaved throughout your hair, stopping you from leaving the bed and him without feeling the sting of being pulled back.

♡ If it's too much of a hassle, he would question why you simply didn't cut it; not that he doesn't find it sexy, but he doesn't care whether or not you have floor length curls or a bald head.

♡ He isn't in the habit of keeping many products around, not really feeling the need for himself, and soulless don't exactly have any sort of fur--

♡ --But he will get them for you, he's nothing if not a gentleman, he'll tell you as he jokingly applies it to your head like a vet would apply a flea treatment.

♡ He's an asshole, but he loves some beautiful hair more than the next guy, so don't bother looking over there.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Hiya I have a request if they're open?? I don't see the status rn so if they're closed feel free to ignore <3

Chuuya x ability user reader who can copy abilities and uses his own ability against him by using gravity manipulation to fuck him harder pls and tyyy!!

I’ve written one where chuuya used his own ability to make reader fuck him harder haha, that was fun >:)

Dom!AbilityUser!reader x sub!chuuya

Warning: chuuya tries to dom, pegging (I use dick), teasing, brat taming (?), dacryphilia

Sometimes you two would change positions and you’d let him top you, just to fed into his ego. And more often than not you’d also tease him until he succumbs, eyes teary as he lets you take over. Not today, he didn’t want things to go your way again.

That’s why he straddled your lap, binding your wrists together behind his waist, pinning you to the bed while looking all smug. “This time, you have to match my pace.” He snarled, thinking he got the upper hand and was in charge. What could you do in such a situation anyway? Tied up with no way to move, since he’s using his body weight on you. It might not be much, but it’s still pretty difficult if he’s pressing down on your stomach.

“You want to ride me? Go on then, pretty boy.” You appeared nonchalant, as if all this didn’t bother you. Instead, you grabbed his butt and leaned closer. Chuuya gritted his teeth, yelping when he felt you squeeze his ass. “Stop it, don’t do anything. I tell you what to do.” Then he slapped your hand away, face heating up while he slowly lowers himself into your lap. “Oh my, feisty. Alright, I’ll be obedient then.” You joked, laughing a little. He didn’t take that joke well, frowning as he grabbed your collar, groaning, “You better be.”

It took a moment until he managed to press your dick against his rim, and it took even longer until he got the tip in. “Nghh… w-would you look at that, feeling nervous already?” The boy taunted you, grinning and arching his back. His hands clutched your shoulders for support then he slowly sat down. “Should I be?” You said, then tried to move his body around to no avail. “H-hah..! See? I’m in control now.” He commented and took the entire length in. ”mhm..! Damn it.” Chuuya gasped, clenching around you tightly. He has taken you countless times, but his hole still needs time to get used to it. “Do you have difficulties? I can always take over.” You reminded him, smiling innocently. Those advances you make are signs that you have no cards up your sleeves anymore, it’s a good thing. Even so… Is this how you feel whenever he acts out with you or talk back? Was he as annoying as you right now?

“No need, I can get off on my own.” He proudly proclaimed and moved his hips, riding you diligently. No matter what you say, he wasn’t going to let your words sway him. As things progressed, his moans got louder and higher each time he bounces on top of you. He also didn’t hold his voice back, as if to rub more salt into the Injurie, basically telling you that he was doing just fine without your help. What a childish boy, should you entertain him some more or finally get to business?

The way he was so proud, as if he just achieved something amazing was adorable. You were looking forward to the face he’d make once the tables turn. Curiosity got the best of you and you grabbed his butt again while he has mid-air. The male immediately stopped moving and furrowed his brows, scoffing, “are you trying that same trick again?” He had a faint blush on his cheeks, otherwise he wasn’t that ruined yet.

”no, rather, I’m showing you a little trick.” You chuckled and leaned over to his face. For a moment he thought you were going to kiss him, instead you looked over his shoulder and pushed. He didn’t know what happened, but he instantly slumped back in your lap. The tip hit a sweet spot inside him, causing him to whine loudly, “ahHGhHnn..!! W-wait, stop!” Chuuya yelled, crying out from the pleasure. “What did you d-do..?!” This wasn’t good, you were messing up his plans again.

With a swift movement, you easily raised him up and down. Manhandling him with no troubles even though you were still tied up. He couldn’t do anything but groan and whine while you continued to make him ride you. “NghHh.. f-fuck, ah, feels good- no, wait! Y-y/n.?!” Tears were rolling down his cheeks now, and his gaze was filled with desperation. He was begging you quietly. “What is? Oh, perhaps you don’t need my help?” You said, despite knowing what he wanted the most in that moment. “I-I… how did you hmMnhg d-do that anyway..?” Chuuya stayed resilient while drool flowed down his chin, at the same time his body was still getting toyed with by you. “Did you forgot about my ability? My, I expected a bit more from you, sweetheart.” You teased, then rest your chin on the nook of his shoulder. He was arching his back and leaned back, while you kept leaning closer to him. Ability, you said. Was there something importan- yea, there was. You had a copy ability, one that allows you to copy another ability user’s ability for a set time limit. So you must have copied his ability. Is that why it feels so intense whenever you fuck into him, are these the effects of gravity manipulation? “T-that’s cheating… hahH~” He mumbled, looking to the side due to the humiliation. How could he miscalculate so bad to forget about that? Next time he should get some nullifying handcuffs.

“Oh dear, are you sure about that?” You asked him while continuously bucking up into him, or making him go up and down on you. That previously arrogant and confident attitude soon got swayed away and replaced with a helpless one. Your cock repeatedly hit his prostate, enough to make the strength leave his body and causing him to slump against your chest.

Each time you buried yourself deep inside him he’d let out a high pitched yelp, glaring at you before avoiding eye contact again. “What’s this? Surrendering already?” Now you were the one to tease him, reminding him of these embarrassing things. “I’m n-not. You… nGhhh, enjoy while you c-can hmNHgg!!” Even though it was a threat, you laughed through it. For you all of this was only empty promises and games anyway.

Then you looked over his shoulder, staring at his butt and how your hands are guiding his body. Something about watching your dick appear and disappear was so erotic that you couldn’t stop. His cries filled the room, echoing in your head, showing you who much he actually likes it if he wasn’t putting on a show. That pretty face of his was all red and wet with tears, eyes rolling back whenever you fuck him especially hard. His hair also bounced around with every thrust, more and more lewd moans slipping from those rosy lips.

It was fun watching him change up like that, which is why you whispered into his ear, “I’m looking forward to your next antics.”

[ijenoyou]

A new day to love.

Joaquín Torres x StarkF!Reader

warnings: not really i think ? lol just fluff and a bit of angst

note: yay another follow up of Ojos lindos !! i’m glad yall like it :3 if anyone has a suggestion for this storyline or if it’s a suggestions for another quino work im all earsssaa!!, remember english isn’t my first language so yeah if there’s any mistakes plz don’t mind them hahaha

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen Joaquín. His mother and grandmother took him away on a short vacation after he was discharged from the hospital. But it’s also been a while since the two of you have had a chat. You couldn’t face him, a part of you still angry at yourself for not being in full control of your own powers.

It felt all too overwhelming.

You lost sleep over it, training hard late at night until your body gave up.

“Why so quiet, uh?” Sam’s voice full with curiosity brought you back to reality.

You shifted on your seat at the kitchen aisle and sighed. You tried to avoid Sam’s eyes that seemed to follow every move you make, feeling your body start to feel physically uncomfortable at the question.

“Oh, it’s nothing really.” You spoke, your voice came out with difficulty. “I was just dissociated, that’s all.” You tried to give him a smile but failed.

Sam lifted one of his eyebrows, giving you a questioning look. You hated when he did that, because at the end of the day, that would make you crack under pressure and tell him everything each time he did that.

“Is it Joaquín?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes found yours.

“No.”

He sighed. His own mind coming to terms about the fact that you were too stubborn to understand none of Joaquín’s accident was your fault. Or anyone’s for that matter.

“The kid’s coming back today. Did you know?”

Your whole body tensed up, your attention directed towards Sam, who was in front of you while holding an iced glass of water.

You nodded. “He texted me.” Your eyes traveled down Sam’s frame, letting them rest on his hands, following the droplets of water on his glass making your throat burn with thirst.

“A little birdie told me you’ve been avoiding him.”

You scoff after hearing him and stood up.

“Is that little birdie Redwing? You know how I feel about that thing.” You heard Sam laugh at your words.

“Joaquín himself told me, he said you’ve been ignoring every text he sends, I just wanted to know why.”

But, did you fully know why? The first thing that made your brain turn into a fuss was the accident but deep down you knew there’s more to it. And at that exact moment it all came crashing down to you.

What if your power got out of control and you ended up hurt them both?

Hurting Joaquín.

The thought sent a chill down your spine, making your skin explode with a coldness sensation all over it. Sam took notice of that, he saw the way your arms filled up with goosebumps.

“I can’t face him.” A second passed.

“Why?”

“W-What if I hurt him? What if I hurt you?” Distress plastered on your face. “I’m weak and to make things worse I can’t fully control what I do— it was me who failed Joaquín!”

He shook his head and stood up from his seat and walked towards you, he held your forearms in his palms and gave you a little squish for reassurance.

“You didn’t fail him— you won’t hurt us, you won’t hurt him.”

“You don’t know that.” You said in a whisper, instant tears filling your eyes up. “I don’t even know why am I so scared of myself. Before meeting him I didn’t even care of what had become of me after Tony’s death.”

Sam couldn’t believe your words, too stunned at them. The only thing he could do was offer you some sense of comfort, so that’s what he did. He gave you the tightness hug you’ve had since meeting him.

You didn’t know how to react.

You were used to people feeling sorry for you, a situation that became a routine after your father’s funeral. So it wasn’t exactly new what was happening but it felt nice. Sam was a new father figure to you, and you were grateful because if it wasn’t for him you would be living a very unhappy life under Pepper’s roof, living a foreign life with her and your half sister.

“Hey guys, I’m back!” Joaquín’s voice appeared from behind you and Sam. “Oh! And my family is here too!” Before you could leave Sam’s hold, two more voices began talking.

“Capitán América! Es un placer volvernos a ver.” An elderly woman spoke up and you finally let go of Sam.

Sam smiled and nodded. “The pleasure is mine, how was Las Vegas?”

“We loved it! isn’t that right mom?” She turned to another woman. After a few seconds they noticed you standing behind Sam, almost as if you were hiding from them— from Joaquín.

“Ms. Stark, right?” You nodded. “Oh! Mi Quino no ha dejado de hablar de ti” She began walking towards you and gave you a very tight hug that caused you to lose air in your chest. Assuming that’s Joaquín’s mother and grandmother, your mind began spiraling. Was he really telling them about you? Did they know you were avoiding him?

“Okay mom, let her go.” Joaquín said while gently taking his mother away from you.

You were about to speak when Sam clapped his hands loudly and smiled.

“Why don’t I take mom and grands on a tour around the base?” He asked them, making the two women smile with joy. Joaquín’s grandmother interlinked her arm with Sam’s and began walking away.

“So…” Joaquín trailed off. “Why are you avoiding me?”

You bit your lip and sighed.

It was sudden, the way you lost the ability to speak what was on your mind, it made you feel crazy. Why did Joaquín made you feel that way? You didn’t like him like that.

Right?

You felt him shift next to you. You ran your fingers through your hair to try grounding yourself.

“I’m sorry.” You finally dared to look at him in the eyes. “I’ve been overthinking a lot of things these days you were gone.” He softly nodded and you continued. “You make me feel a lot of new things and it scares me.”

He dared to step closer to you.

You could feel his warmth the way you did when you first met him.

“Why?”

“What I hurt you? What if one day my powers overtake me? Quino I’ve grown used to this, to us but I don’t what you to end up getting hurt because of me.”

He let a tiny gasp out of lips and got even closer to you. Joaquín thought he was turning crazy, because in what universe would Y/N Stark be confessing she cared about him— the way he cares about her.

“I don’t believe for any second that you would hurt anyone, or me.” He softly spoke as he reached for your hands. “You have the most beautiful soul anyone has, don’t even doubt it for a moment.”

His hands traveled up your arms just for them to rest at your jawline, he was holding your face in place with a steady grip. That action made your cheeks start filling up with color.

“I know what I’m getting into if that’s what you’re worried about.” He spoke while getting even closer to you, to your face. “Desde la primera vez que te ví, supe que yo sería para ti y tú para mí.” You laugh at his words and nod.

Because it was true.

When you saw him for the first time, you could already tell you would become very fond of him really fast. And that thought became even stronger when he was at the hospital with you taking care of him. You wouldn’t trust another person to help him heal. Even the doctor thought the same, he surprisingly gained his strength back in an incredible speed.

It was quiet for a few moments.

If you focused enough, you could feel his heart beating right through his palm, letting the beat sting your skin. As if that was your way of know he was alive.

With pleading eyes, his own face began reaching for yours.

“Stop me if you don’t—“

Right as you were on verge of kissing him, his mother’s voice appeared again.

“Mijo! Mira la foto que le tomé a tu abuela.” She said excitedly while looking down at her phone.

She then lifted her gaze from the device and saw the way Joaquín held your face with gentle hands.

“Mom!” He separated from you with a huff. “We were in the middle of a conversation.”

She laughed at his son and shook her head. “Right. What a lovely conversation.”

[ ]

You were now walking towards the exit next to the Torres’s family and Sam after you offered to make dinner for all of them. Sam was chatting with both women behind you and Joaquín while he stood at your side, leading the way.

His grandmother took notice of the way his hand would brush yours while walking, too shy to fully hold it. She smiled and prayed for his grandson to have the courage to do it and when he finally did take your hand in his she celebrated inside her own mind.

When all of you reached the Torres’s car, Joaquín turned around still holding your hand.

“Quino, please call if anything happens.” His grandmother took a step forward and smiled, he nodded his head while letting go of you for a brief moment to give her a very tight hug.

“And you, Mija, take care.” She gently said while tucking a strand of hair away from your face. “Mi Quino nunca dejo de hablar de ti, y espero que siga así por un buen rato.” A smile appeared on your face, Joaquín’s grandmother gave you a wink and hugged you.

After you and Sam said your goodbye’s to them, the both of you decided to step away from the Torres family for a moment to let them have a chat before they leave back home.

“I assume you and pretty boy are okay now, uhm?” Sam said with that cheeky smile of his.

You blushed at the same time your head turned towards him and laughed.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

He tilted his head to the side and pushed you with his shoulder.

“I heard his grandma gave you the bendición.”

Now your face felt hotter.

“Stop it.”

“I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

“Alright Captain obvious, stop that or I’ll paint Redwing pink.” You said while fixing your gaze on Joaquín.

“Do it.” Sam simply said and shrugs. “Ladies like pink, you’ll be doing me a favor.” Now it was your turn to push Sam, but you did it with too much force you didn’t know you had, causing him to loose his balance and land on a bush that was next to him.

“Torres get your girl!” He shouted from the bushes.

But Joaquín, instead of helping him, only took out his phone and captured a picture of the way Sam’s feet could be the only thing seen in the bushes. You were captured laughing on the ground, noticing the struggle Sam had while trying to get up.

—

Es un placer volvernos a ver - It’s a pleasure to see you again.

Mi Quino no ha dejado de hablar de ti - My Quino wouldn’t stop talking about you.

Desde la primera vez que te ví, supe que yo sería para ti y tú para mí. - Since the first time I saw you, I knew you were made for me and I was made for you.

Mira la foto que le tomé a tu abuela - Look at the picture I took of your grandma.

Mi Quino nunca dejo de hablar de ti, y espero que siga así por un buen rato - My Quino never stoped talking about you, and I hope it stays that way for a long time.

[blood-orange-juice]

I realised I have a problem with the "Childe has cPTSD" idea that has been getting popularity in fandom, but it's probably more because of my gripe as a psych professional with the concept of cPTSD in general.

It's an understudied disorder and it's not yet in the DSM-V. Therapists use the term because it's better than nothing (they have to treat people regardless of whether we have a comprehensive theory of how humans function) but as it is now it simply clumps together too many things.

It started with a very reasonable thought that prolonged exposure to moderately stressful events can be just as harmful as One Huge Trauma, and also that the effects or prolonged exposure to stress will differ from only experiencing something once.

Sadly, the most common scenario in which a Western person (the type that has access to therapy and gets to talk about it online) can get cPTSD is child abuse. This means in the cases that are studied and discussed cPTSD response to prolonged stress is mixed with developmental trauma (all kinds of insufficient parenting and a child's needs not being met), attachment trauma (not having a stable relationship with a caretaker at a very early age when attachment strategies are formed), relational trauma (any trauma gotten in relationships at any age) and just general reaction to abuse (and all the damage to agency and self-worth that comes from it).

cPTSD of a person who came back from a war will differ a lot from cPTSD of a person who was raised by an abusive parent. There are similarities, sure, and it's important to recognise that a bad family situation can be just as damaging as being in an active war zone (in that sense the term has done more good than harm), but these two people won't have the same self-concepts and coping strategies.

The concept of cPTSD can be very useful if you are trying to understand what is happening to you personally or to explain it to your therapist (or to find a trauma-informed therapist), it isn't bad. But you can't say "this character has cPTSD" and derive meaningful predictions about his behaviour or self-image from it. It's too much of an umbrella term.

So, back to our boy. Bad things only started to happen to him at 14 and it's different from someone being consistently traumatised from an early age.

Does he have hypervigilance, bizarre strategies of self-regulation, at least some amount of dissociation, occasional attention problems and intolerance to helplessness? Yeah, probably, his lifestyle would do that to pretty much anyone. Prolonged stress just does that, doesn't matter how badass someone is. Some negative beliefs about himself are also likely. Difficulty with connecting with others is a given (everyone else lives in a different reality, how would he even begin to connect).

Does he have relational trauma? Also yes, we all do. Some justified guilt and anger over how things went? Not necessary but very possible. Some irrational guilt for things he couldn't control? Again, not necessary but I could roll with that (it's a common response to helplessness. guilt is easier to stomach than the loss of control).

Would he behave like a child abuse victim, thinking himself completely worthless and constantly doubting and pitying himself? I don't think so. He looks like a person who has never been abused in his life. It's very fun to write and I understand the appeal of it (I'm probably occasionally guilty of that too) but it's simply not how he's portrayed in canon.

He wouldn't think of himself like a child of narcissistic parents would either (having to be the best to prove his right to exist). He was long past the age when he could have gotten that type of trauma when Abyss and the Fatui happened to him. Also his resilience comes from somewhere and I think it's from having a loving family. Sure, it wasn't a perfect family (I have a lot of questions for them) and now it's irreparably messed up even more but he does look like a person who was loved as a kid.

[universefcb]

hiii can u please do a ferran x reader where the reader is struggling financially and the reader is too shy to tell him incase anyone thinks she's using him for his money, thank uuuu

LOVE FOREVER, FERRAN TORRE.

→ Pairing: Ferran Torre X fem!reader

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Confort.

→ Author's note: He is so underrated, handsome and cute.

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

You always tried to hide it. Shyness was your shield, but also your prison—especially when it came to money. Going through financial difficulties was something you didn’t know how to share, much less with Ferran Torres, who seemed to have everything so under control.

You met naturally, through laughter and light conversation, and he was always kind and attentive. But little by little, that doubt began to grow in your chest: does he distrust you? Does he think you are only around him for the money? And worse, has he ever thought about distancing himself because of it?

You avoided expensive dates, always suggesting simple plans, but when he insisted on paying, you accepted, knowing that you couldn't afford everything on your own. But the guilt ate away at you.

One Saturday afternoon, after training, Ferran sent a message:

“Do you want to come over to my house? I made a dish you like.”

You hesitated. It was so tempting, and at the same time, your fear of exposing yourself grew.

But he ended up giving in.

When he arrived, he was smiling, simple, as always. They sat on the sofa, the smell of food still in the air.

He stared at you, worried.

“You act different... are you okay? You can talk to me, you know?” He said, his voice soft.

His heart raced. Did he notice? It hurt.

You took a deep breath.

“Not really. I’ve been having some... financial problems.”

He frowned, but didn't pull away the hand holding his.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was… using you. Or that I needed help just for the money. I’m afraid of that.”

Ferran squeezed her hand tighter, his eyes full of affection.

“I'm with you because I like you, not because of what you have or don't have. I don't want you to carry this alone.”

You felt the knot in your chest loosen.

“It’s hard for me to talk about it. I’ve always been embarrassed.”

He smiled.

“So let’s face it together. Whatever you need, I want to help. No judgment.”

You smiled shyly, feeling for the first time that you weren’t alone. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that calms, that allows words to settle, that allows the heart to reorganize itself. Ferran never let go of your hand, and you felt the warmth of his fingers like an anchor. He always had that gift: making even chaos seem less noisy when he was around.

“Thank you for not making this a burden,” you murmured, your voice weak.

He gave a slight sideways smile and shook his head.

No, Baby, it's a favor. Not even an exchange. It's care.”

The word “baby” hit you with unexpected force. You hadn't said that yet, not like that. But it sounded natural coming out of his mouth, as if it had been there for a while, just waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.

You swallowed hard, trying not to let the tears escape. But Ferran noticed, he always noticed. He lifted his hand and touched your face gently, his thumb caressing the skin near your eyes.

“Do you really think I would care if you had money or not? Do you think that changes the way I feel?”

You shook your head in denial, but the truth was that, for a long time, you had thought so. The difference in worlds between you seemed insurmountable at times. You came from a reality where saving was the rule, and he came from a universe where a spontaneous dinner in another country was not absurd.

But there, with that look so sincere, so unfiltered, you felt small for having doubted him.

“It’s just… sometimes I don’t feel like I’m enough,” you confessed. “Like I’m always owing you something. Like it’s only a matter of time before you realize you deserve someone better.”

Ferran stepped closer, his knees now touching yours, and the expression on his face was firm.

“Hey. You are everything. I never thought of looking for someone 'better'. You understand what's important. You have sensitivity, you have strength, you have character. You care about people, even when you're scared. That's worth more to me than any bank account.”

You smiled, small, feeling your chest tighten again — but this time, with relief. For being seen, heard. For not having to pretend anymore.

“And look,” he continued, amused, “you have the worst taste in pizza. And yet, I’m still here. That must count for something.”

You let out a real laugh, finally.

“You who don’t know how to appreciate a good pizza with pineapple.”

“That’s not even pizza, that’s heresy.”

The two of them laughed, and the dark heaviness that had started the night dissipated a little. Like a cloudy sky being swept away by a calm wind. Ferran stood up and extended his hand to you.

“Come. I want to show you something.”

You took his hand, curious. You followed him through the house to the small room where he kept his mementos—trophies, childhood photos, old T-shirts. He opened one of the drawers and took out a small wooden box.

“It’s not a ring, before you think,” he teased, noticing her apprehensive look.

Inside was a small silver chain with a discreet pendant: a circle with two intertwined hands. You looked at it, surprised.

“It’s kind of silly, but...” He scratched the back of his neck, a little shy for the first time. “When I was a kid, my grandmother gave me this. She said it was for when I found someone I wanted to share everything with. Fear, joy, the future.”

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart beat wildly.

“I want you to be with me. Not because I want to 'buy' you or compensate you for anything. But because you are that person, for me.”

His eyes were steady on yours. And everything you had felt before—shame, insecurity, the fear of seeming self-interested—was being erased by the soft light of truth between you.

You held the pendant, feeling the cool metal between your fingers. It was small, simple... but it meant the world.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing with the chain.

You nodded, and he came to you, with all the delicacy in the world, placing the necklace around your neck. His touch on the back of your neck was as soft as the breeze that came in through the open window.

When he finished, he placed his hands on your shoulders and looked at you for what seemed like an eternity.

“You don’t have to face this alone anymore. Ever.”

His words echoed in her mind like a calm, steady whisper, sealing something much greater than fleeting promises. Ferran didn’t just say he was there—he proved it. With every gesture, with every look, he built a safe space around him. A home outside the walls.

Your heart felt so full that you could barely respond. The necklace rested on your skin as a physical reminder of that moment, of that silent surrender that came from deep within him—and now, from deep within you, too.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice cracking. “For seeing me when I can’t see myself.”

He smiled, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes.

“I see you all the time, baby.”

And then the silence returned. Not the silence of fear or insecurity—but the silence that precedes something inevitable. Ferran approached you slowly, as if he were asking you with his body, without words. The distance between you was reduced to a few centimeters, and you didn’t back away.

Your gaze fell to his mouth. Half-open, soft, like everything about him. You had imagined this moment before, but never like this, never with so much meaning behind it. It wasn't just a kiss. It was the beginning of an entire surrender.

And he kissed you.

At first, it was gentle—a tender, careful touch of lips, as if he were thanking you for trusting him. But soon it became firmer, more urgent, as if now that he had started, he didn’t know how to stop. His hands moved up to your face, his fingers stroking your jaw while his thumb rested beneath your chin, guiding the kiss with precision and tenderness.

You responded with the same intensity, gripping the fabric of his shirt between your fingers, pulling him closer. It was as if all the weight you had been carrying before was dissolving there, between Ferran's lips. He made you feel whole, desired, enough.

His taste was warm, familiar, and his ragged breaths mingled with yours. The kiss was slow, but full of feeling. As if he was trying to convey to you everything he couldn't put into words. And you understood—every gesture, every pause, every return to the touch of his lips.

He pulled his mouth away for a second, only to rest his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“I like you just the way you are. With your doubts, your quiet courage... with everything you are,” he whispered.

You smiled, your eyes filled with tears, and pulled him back in for another kiss. This time, softer, longer. No rush. No fear.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[hazelira]

one more day of you

warnings: terminal illness, emotional content, death themes

The morning light falls softly through the curtains, painting golden stripes across your shared bed. You wake to Jake's quiet breathing, his chest rising and falling rhythmically beneath your head. His arms are around you—warm, familiar, but trembling slightly. It’s in those little things now, how his hands sometimes shake, or his voice falters when he speaks. You’ve both known this was coming.

Leptomeningeal disease, causing symptoms like headaches, nausea, confusion, or difficulty moving. It often occurs in advanced stages of cancer and can be challenging to treat. You’d read the word once on your chart, printed cleanly on crisp white paper like it wasn’t the thing that would take you away. The cancer had spread to the leptomeninges—the thin, delicate layers of tissue protecting your brain and spinal cord. Jake hates the word because it feels clinical and sterile, too detached for something devastating. He only calls it “the sickness.”

You know this day will be your last good one. The doctors said so. “Make the most of it,” one had said gently, as if making the most of dying is something people could ever do.

You feel his lips press into your hair as he whispers, “You’re awake.”

“I’m awake,” you echo softly.

Neither of you moves for a moment. You close your eyes and memorize this—his heartbeat in your ear, the feel of his fingers tracing small circles against your back. How can a person possibly capture something so fleeting?

“We’re going out today,” Jake says finally, his voice still rough from sleep.

“I don’t think I can,” you admit, though part of you wishes you could. Your limbs are heavy these days, weighted with fatigue that no nap can cure.

“You can,” he insists gently. “I’ll help you. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

His voice barely cracks on that last part, but you pretend not to notice. You know he’s been trying so hard to be strong. Strong for you. Strong for himself.

He helps you get ready. There’s no rush, no urgency—he combs your hair carefully, pulling the strands gently through the brush as if you’re fragile glass. Your body is fragile now. You’ve felt it changing. Some days, the headaches come fast, pulsing deep and low, while your vision dims at the edges. Other times, your legs fail, nerves tangled like the frayed ends of an old rope. You’ve fallen a few times, and Jake has always caught you before you could hit the ground.

Today, though, you feel steady enough for him.

You spend the day by the lake.

It’s your favourite spot—the one where the water looks almost endless, where the ripples stretch toward the horizon like hands reaching for something beyond sight. You sit together on a blanket, your back resting against his chest while he hums softly into your ear.

“Jake?”

“Hmm?”

“What song is that?”

He pauses, the vibrations of his hum fading. “One I made up. I don’t know... it’s just for you, I guess.”

“You should write it down,” you tell him.

“I don’t need to. I’ll always remember it.”

The words hang heavy between you both because you both know the truth—there will come a day when he hums that song, and you won’t hear it.

Your hands are shaking again, and your motor skills haven’t been the same since the sickness spread. Jake notices, gently cradling your fingers in his. His touch is steady and deliberate. He brings your knuckles to his lips, kissing them as tears slide silently down his face.

You hate feeling guilty for leaving him as if this were something you could control.

“I wish I could give you more time,” you whisper.

“You’ve already given me everything,” Jake choked out. His voice is so soft, so broken. “Every moment with you… every smile, every fight, every time you told me you loved me. I don’t need anything else.”

The wind picks up slightly, carrying the scent of the lake toward you. You close your eyes and let it wash over you. You want to remember the feeling of the sun on your face, the warmth of Jake’s arms around you, and the sound of his breath catching in his chest.

When the sun begins to set, your energy is almost gone. You lean heavily into him as he carries you back to the car, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. His breathing is uneven from the weight—not of you, but of everything.

Back home, you sit in the living room wrapped in blankets while he kneels before you. The pain has started again, a dull throb deep in your spine. You wince, and Jake reaches for the medication.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, it’s not.” His tone is firm. “You’re hurting.”

You watch him press the pills into your palm, his hands shaking worse than before. You swallow them slowly, grimacing against the bitter taste. He kneels, his head resting in your lap as you gently run your fingers through his hair.

For the first time, you feel his tears soak through the fabric of your clothes.

“Please don’t go yet,” he whispers.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur. “I’m right here.”

But you both know.

The clock ticks somewhere in the background; its sound is loud and unforgiving. You count each second because you don’t know how many more you’ll get.

“Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you sing to me?”

He lifts his head, wiping his eyes roughly before nodding. You know it takes everything he has to push through the grief tightening his throat, but he does it for you. His voice cracks on the first note, but it doesn’t matter.

It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

And you let yourself drift into his voice, the memory of today, and the love you’ve shared for what feels like a lifetime.

When the sun rises the next day, Jake wakes to silence.

Your hand is still in his, and your face is slightly toward him. You look peaceful, and for a brief moment, he imagines you’re simply asleep.

Then it hits him.

The emptiness.

The stillness.

There’s no word for the sound he makes when he pulls you against him, his tears falling into your hair. There’s no word for the ache that settles into his chest when he kisses your forehead one last time.

“Thank you for giving me one more day,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

You’re gone, but the sun rises, spilling light across your face.

And Jake sits there, holding you as if his love alone could keep you together.

Even now, he hums the song he made just for you—because he promised he’d never forget it.

And he never will.

The house feels wrong without you. Jake hadn’t noticed how quiet it could be—how the creak of the floorboards, the hum of the refrigerator, even the wind against the windows—could sound so loud in your absence.

It’s been three days.  

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing, his fingers twitching as if reaching for something no longer there. You. Your scent still lingers on the sheets. If he closes his eyes and breathes deeply enough, he swears he can feel you beside him.  

But when he opens them, the bed is empty.  

Jake can’t look at the lake yet. He drives past it anyway, because not seeing it feels worse. He stops the car at the same spot where you both sat, where you leaned against his chest and let him hold you. The blanket is still folded neatly in the backseat—he hadn’t been able to touch it.  

The sun is setting, its light turning the water shades of gold and violet, like the heavens are mourning, too. Jake grips the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white, his breath uneven.  

“You said you wouldn’t go,” he whispers into the empty car. His voice shakes, anger bubbling beneath the grief. “You said you weren’t going anywhere. You promised.”  

He knows it’s not fair, that you didn’t want to leave him. He knows. But knowing doesn’t make the anger feel any less real.  

“You’re supposed to be here.” His voice cracks on the last word, and he bites down on his lip so hard he tastes blood. “Why aren’t you here?”  

There’s no answer. Just the sound of the water lapping at the shore and the distant cry of birds flying home.  

Home.

But his home is gone.  

Your clothes still hang in the closet. Jake tries to clean up one day, thinking maybe if he makes the house less you, it will hurt less. He’s wrong.  

The moment he pulls one of your sweaters from the hanger, it slips through his shaking hands and crumples onto the floor. He drops to his knees, clutching the fabric tightly, pressing it to his face.  

It smells like you. Like the lavender soap you loved and the faintest hint of vanilla.  

“I can’t do this,” he chokes out, the sobs finally breaking through.  

Jake hadn’t cried like this since the morning he woke to find you gone, but now the dam has burst. His tears stain the soft wool of your sweater as he gasps for breath, his chest heaving.  

“You’re supposed to be here,” he repeats over and over, as if saying it enough times might bring you back. But the silence presses in around him, mocking him.  

He doesn’t sleep much anymore. Nights are the hardest.  

Every time he closes his eyes, he dreams of you. Sometimes it’s beautiful—he dreams of the lake, of you laughing, your smile radiant as the sunlight. Those dreams are the cruelest because when he wakes, for the briefest moment, he forgets.  

And then he remembers.  

Other nights, it’s nightmares. You slipping away from him, calling his name as he tries to hold on. He wakes drenched in sweat, chest tight, throat raw from screaming.  

One night, he dreams of the day at the lake. Of you leaning against him, asking about the song he was humming.  

“I’ll always remember it,” he’d told you.  

When he wakes up, he sits at the piano in the dark, the song replaying in his mind like a ghost. He presses the keys gently, the melody soft and broken. Each note sounds like a piece of him shattering.  

By the time he finishes, tears are streaming down his face again. He rests his head against the keys, the silence stretching endlessly around him.  

“Where are you?” he whispers. “Where are you now?”  

Days turn into weeks. People stop calling as much. They say things like “She wouldn’t want you to be sad,” and “You have to keep living.”

Jake hates it.  

Because he doesn’t know how to keep living when everything reminds him of you.  

The coffee mugs you used to bicker over—yours with the chipped rim that you insisted still worked fine—sit untouched on the counter. Your books, their spines worn and pages creased, still clutter the shelves. He swears he hears your voice in his head when he picks one up, remembering how you used to read aloud, your voice soft and full of wonder.  

“I just want one more day,” he whispers one night, sitting on the floor beside the bed. His forehead rests against the mattress where you used to sleep, his hand gripping the sheets as if you might be there, just out of reach.  

“Just one more day of you.”  

Eventually, he goes back to the lake.  

The sun is setting again, just like it had that day. Jake sits on the blanket—the same one he hadn’t been able to touch for weeks—and pulls your sweater over his shoulders.  

It’s too big on him, but it’s yours.  

For a long time, he says nothing. The wind blows gently through his hair, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and water. He stares at the horizon, his chest aching, waiting for something that will never come.  

And then, quietly, he hums.  

It’s the song he made for you.  

The sound carries across the water, soft and fragile, like glass. It’s broken in places, trembling like his voice, but he doesn’t stop. Because this song is all he has left of you now.  

And as the last note fades into the air, Jake lets himself cry.  

The sunset turns the sky shades of gold and violet, just like it did that day.  

And for the first time in weeks, he whispers, “I love you.”  

The words drift into the wind, lost somewhere between the earth and sky, and for a moment, he imagines you’re there, listening.  

And he wonders if somewhere, somehow, you’re whispering it back.  

The present comes crashing back like a punch to the gut. The flashback fades, leaving Jake sitting in the too-bright backstage lounge, his hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles are bone-white. The faint hum of conversation buzzes around him, the other ENHYPEN members talking softly, someone laughing across the room—but the sounds feel far away, muffled, like he’s underwater.

“Jakey?”

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look up.  

Sunghoon stands a few feet away, concern painting his face as he peers at Jake. “Are you okay?”  

The question hangs heavy in the air, and Jake forces himself to take a breath. He’s been holding it, he realizes—holding it like he might stop himself from shattering into pieces. He drags his hands down his face, swallowing the lump in his throat before lifting his head.

“Yeah,” he lies, voice hoarse. “I’m fine.”

But he isn’t fine. How can he be? The ache is still there—a hollow, gaping void in his chest where you used to be. The memory of you clings to him like shadows he can’t shake, the song he wrote for you still humming faintly in the back of his mind.  

Jake knows the other members can see it—he’s quieter these days, smiles harder to come by, laughter sounding a little too forced. But they don’t push. They know him too well to pry when he’s not ready.  

Jay calls out, voice cutting through the haze. “Five minutes, guys.”  

The members begin to move around him, grabbing water bottles, fixing outfits, hyping each other up. Jake tries to focus on their voices, on the energy they always carry before a performance. He’s supposed to be a part of it—he always is. Walk The Line is their biggest tour yet, a dream for all of them. For their ENGENEs.  

And yet, here he is, sitting on the edge of a couch with his hands still trembling.

The walk to the stage feels impossibly long. The closer they get, the louder the sounds grow—the deep bass thrum of music vibrating through the walls, the roar of thousands of ENGENEs just beyond the curtain. It’s deafening and overwhelming, a wall of sound so alive it should make him feel invincible.  

But it doesn’t.  

Jake adjusts his in-ear monitors as he walks, his chest tightening with every step. He swears he can still feel your hand in his, your voice whispering, "You’re supposed to be here.”

He stops walking.

The others are ahead of him now, clustered near the stage entrance. Heeseung notices first, pausing to look back over his shoulder.  

“Jake? You good?”  

Jake lifts his head. For a second, the question lingers, like a challenge he can’t meet. Is he good? He hasn’t been good since you left. He hasn’t been whole.  

But then he hears it—the chant of ENGENEs calling his name, calling their names.  

“ENHYPEN! ENHYPEN!”  

It shakes him to his core, the energy crashing into him all at once.  

You had always loved his voice. Loved watching him perform, the way he poured his soul into every song, every word. You told him once, in your soft, fading voice, “When you’re on stage, it’s like you’re alive in a way no one else could ever be.”

Alive.  

Jake blinks hard against the sting in his eyes, the tears that threaten to spill. He doesn’t have time to break—not now. So he breathes, deep and slow, pushing your memory somewhere deeper for just a little while.  

Heeseung’s voice breaks through his haze again. “Jake?”  

He nods once, finally moving to catch up with the others. “I’m okay.”  

This time, it’s closer to the truth.  

The stage lights blind him as they burst into brightness, and the sound of ENGENEs’ cheers hits him like a tidal wave. It’s overwhelming. It’s electric. It’s everything.  

Jake steps into position, his mic warm in his palm, the opening beats of their first song rattling through the stadium. He forces a smile, even as his chest still aches. Because this—this moment—is what he has left.  

And maybe you’re out there somewhere, in the crowd, in the echoes of the music, in the spaces between the lyrics. Maybe you’re watching him. Maybe you’re proud of him.  

As he sings, the song he wrote for you hums faintly at the back of his mind, its melody weaving quietly beneath the performance. The tears threaten again, but he pushes through it, pouring everything he has left into every note, every movement.  

He sings for you.  

He always will.  

The crowd doesn’t see the way his hands tremble, or the way he closes his eyes just a little too long as he hits a note that feels like it’s pulling his heart from his chest. They only see Jake, their star, shining as brightly as ever.  

But he knows.  

You know.  

And when the song ends and the lights dim for a moment, Jake whispers, so quietly no one else can hear,  

“I miss you.”  

It drifts into the darkness, carried by the energy of the crowd, and for the first time in days, the ache doesn’t feel quite so heavy.  

Jake lifts his head as the lights burst back on, the roar of ENGENEs filling his ears once more. And as he smiles for them, he wonders if you’re smiling back, wherever you are.  

Because tonight, just for a moment, it feels like you’re still with him.  

And it’s enough to keep him going.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Hello again wonderful person of the Internet!

Thank you for answering my previous question! But I have came to you for another one.

So I’ve seen a little bit of dialogue from Ford, but how does he speak? Like what is his speaking mannerisms? Is it all gibberish? Does he stutter? Does he repeat words?

Keep on making your art and being awesome! :)

~ Question asked from the Tiniest Cyclops ~

Hello, hello again, tiny cyclops in my inbox!

As I mentioned in this post where I go a bit more in depth on Ford's brain injury, Ford suffers from aphasia! Which is basically the loss of one's ability to express language and communicate, while not losing the ability to understand it. But I'm sure you already knew this; and if not, the more you know!

How does he speak? It really depends when you were to go up and talk to him in the timeline. His speech mannerisms the few following years right after his head trauma is very different from how he speaks now in canon! He's had 30 years to recover, after all.

Ford's speech right after his injury was practically non-exitstent. He was smacked in the face with all of the textbook definition symptoms of aphasia, ramped up to 100.

Speaking in short or incomplete sentences.

Speaking in sentences that don't make sense.

Substituting one word for another or one sound for another.

Speak unrecognizable words.

Have difficulty finding words.

Conversations with him back then were not "gibberish" per se, but more so just... slow. And frustrating for everyone involved, although no one could ever be more frustrated than Ford himself. I mean, can you imagine? He could barely say anything without monumental effort, and whatever meager words he managed to squeeze out of his throat were lackluster, to say the least. Every part of his speech were hindered: grammar, pronunciation, heck, even the tone, volume and rythm of his speech didn't always come out correctly.

Due to how recent his brain injury was, there was also the added physical impairments to his speech. The muscles involved in producing speech were weakened, affecting Ford's control and clarity of his words (this is also called: dysarthria).

From an outsider's perspective, listening to him would have felt a little like listening to an extremely corrupted audio file, or a faulty record player. He would often take long pauses in the middle of his words; his words sometimes blended into one another; and his sentences were short, and simple. I think this quote from a website I found about aphasia explains it best.

"Speech may be 'telegraphic' omitting small words such as 'the'. So, 'tomorrow I'm going to the pub with my wife for our anniversary', may be expressed as 'tomorrow...pub... wife... anniversary'. This requires the listener to accurately piece the message together."

So, yeah! As you can imagine, speaking for him was extremely hard. Often times, the townfolk he tried to speak to didn't have the patience to stick around while he finished a sentence, and gradually even Ford lost patience with himself, so he just. Gave up. Which was why he used to be much quieter in the beginning, lurking around town wordlessly, not even really bothering even when someone tried to initiate conversation with him. For a genius who once prided himself so much of his eloquence, losing that ability was a huge blow for him.

How fast one recovers from aphasia really depends on the severity of the injury. It can either take up to a few hours, days, maybe even weeks to fully reover with no long term repercussions, or the symptoms can last months, even years to shake off, and occasionally it's a lifelong condition. Ford, due to the severity of his injury, drew the short end of the stick, and was stuck with the lingering aftereffects of aphasia pretty much forever.

BUT, he evenutally managed to find the will to speak again! At some point during his 30 years of recovery, he decided that he'll figure this shit out himself, goddamnit, he was a scientist. He outsmarted a demon! He didn't have time to be depressed, he needed to relearn how to SPEAK!! (fuck yeah, determination, baby).

And learn he did. Very painfully, very gradually, Ford became basically his own speech therapist for a few decades and relearned everything his body and brain forgot. And although the results aren't perfect- he still stutters, he still gets stuck on words and he still stumbles over them- considering the fact that he had no professional treatment from a clinic or doctor available, it was good enough.

Now he won't shut up! (lovingly)

[spartanseagoat]

Hey Babe, Let Me Tell You About Your Chiron Real Quick & Explain Why you are hurt

Hey y’all!! To kick off my new Astro page, I thought I would start off with some healing!

Who is Chiron?

Chiron in Greek Mythology was the Son of Kronos , other sources say Apollo and was a famous centaur. He was known for his vast knowledge of medicines and his overall deep wisdom. He was known for the arts as well. He was also an incredible teacher and taught many Greek heroes such as Hercules.

He was accidentally shot by a poisoned arrow and was unable to heal himself so Greek God Zeus honored him by giving him a place in the constellation known as Centaurus.

How does this play into astrology?

In astrology, Chiron is known as the “Wounded Healer and Teacher.” He represents the unhealed part of ourselves that we keep rehealing. Think of it this way, it’s like our triggers.

Imagine getting severely hurt physically , your wounds heal but now you have a nasty scar from that wound. Even though that wound is healed, you’ll always have that reminder of when you were in pain and it can be triggering.

You’ll never fully heal your Chiron but you can learn from it and how to grow as a person. Your Chiron wounds can be from past lives as well. You may have experienced this in your early childhood the most and it’s followed you through adulthood.

The parts of you that you need to start Healing based on the signs

*the house it’s in determine the area in life you are wounded in. Degrees of your placement also plays a part THIS IS A GENERALIZED BREAKDOWN!

Aries/1h- being hurt physically, not having confidence in yourself, not feeling bold. Don’t feel comfortable in the body you’re in. People saying mean things about your appearance, bullying was a big part of your early wounds.

Taurus/2h- your self worth, being homeless or struggling for home stability, financial struggles, feeling insecure about your voice or how you dress or look. Food struggles is another big one

Gemini/3h- you struggle with communicating your thoughts, having car or transportation struggles, having difficulties with siblings or co-workers. May have learning disabilities such as ADHD

Cancer/4h- you struggle with understanding your emotions and how to regulate them. Troubles with your home life or family, especially mother. Motherhood could be hard for you as well such as not wanting to be a mom or wanting to be one

Leo/5h- your inner childhood, being confident around others, don’t like being in the spotlight. Feel uncomfortable around children, bruised ego from childhood wound

Virgo/6h- suffer from perfectionism and wanting to be the best at everything. Physical Health related issues, work related issues, struggle with routines

Libra/7h- connecting with people one on one, relationship issues. Struggles with finding balance in your life, not having justice or fairness on your side. Struggles with trying to please everyone

Scorpio/8h- struggles with trusting others and being closed off, struggles with developing intimate connection with partners. Dealing with a death of a loved one at an early age, struggle with financial power and control. Power struggles in general

Sagittarius/9h- having a hard time communicating your beliefs and perspectives or people not understanding your worldview, struggles with broadening your view, traveling struggles, religious trauma, struggled in college/higher learning environments. Carry the world on their shoulders.

Capricorn/10h- struggles with ambition and setting long term goals, struggles with not getting recognition or the respect you earned. Struggles with responsibility. This can indicate being a workaholic as well

Aquarius/11h- feeling like an outcast from social circle or network. Having a hard time accomplishing your dreams fulfillment, struggles with social media or the internet in general. Struggles with seeing the good in humanity, being rebellious to the point of being reckless , always feeling uncomfortable in crowds.

Pisces/12h- lack boundaries with people, struggle to see people for who they are and put them on a pedestal, struggle with regulating your emotions due to feeling other people emotions, mental health struggles, addiction struggles, imprisonment struggles

Keep in mind this is a very broad and generalized reading. If you want me to make a detailed a post for each Chiron let me know here by voting!

[for-those-who-wait]

Hey I think I asked you about your Detroit become human au before a bit ago but I love the idea so much! I know you’re super busy but if you can I would love to see more about it!

Sorry for asking about it again I’m just really interested in it. 😭🙏

No please don't be sorry I love to talk about it whenever I'm not creatively bankrupt!! I'm just sorry it took so long for me to actually think of new stuff to add

I had some of these doodles already prepared but never really finished them up until I came up with a cute little idea

I didn't think of where to put in Flapjack until I remembered that android animals existed, and then I had a brain blast moment where I realized that Hunter can still talk to Flapjack! They are little android buddies, they can interface and talk and be friends!! I think it would also help to make him feel a bit more comfortable with his identity as an android to be able to have his little buddy to have fun private conversations with. Camila introduces them (maybe he had gotten hurt by a previous owner and she found him and let Gus fix him up) and Hunter is a bit tentative about it at first, but Flapjack is adorable and sweet and quickly wins him over

I just now had the idea that Gus, since he's super into android stuff, would probably be a big resource for software and hardware difficulties. Oh, you fell and your arm is working kinda wonky? Call up Gus, he'll crack you open and take a look. The dude doesn't mind in the least, he freaking LOVES going down mechanical and coding rabbit holes to better understand how androids work. I like to think that if Hunter ever got hurt and chose not to accept help because of body/species dysphoria, Gus would be a really good resource for him to try and feel as normal as possible while he's getting fixed. Gus is his brother and he loves him and they're just good to each other okay? Gus would probably crack some jokes or something to get Hunter's mind off it, or infodump about android organs or something (and Hunter would be begrudgingly interested because they are nerds, and Hunter is interested in androids too underneath all the problems he has with deviancy. Like dude they're robots, what's not to love?)

Also some Gus being so over Hunter's "androids can't feel love" phase featuring Vee and Masha being very adorable and very obviously in love :) Hunter is a very silly stupid man. He will find any way to make literally everyone exempt from the terrible rules Philip fed him, except for himself

I'm trying to think of a potential situation that would parallel Hunter's possession, and I think it would probably be basically the same thing that happens in Connor's deviant path (when he deviates and joins the revolution as an ally) where Amanda (a separate AI in his programming that's basically how CyberLife keeps him in check) takes over Connor's programming last minute to try and put a stop to the revolution.

So my current thought is that Philip is basically using Hunter as a trojan horse. His main programming is to act and believe like he's a normal human but similar to Connor, he's basically a sleeper agent without knowing. I imagine that once Hunter gains access to his software (thanks to Vee and Gus), he starts finding programs and files that are labeled as pretty scary things. He shouldn't have to know the most efficient way to shut an android down or incapacitate a human.

If and when Philip finally goes looking for Hunter and sees the first android he's seen in Gravesfield besides Hunter (aka Vee), he's not going to take that well.

I haven't drawn anything for it but so far I'm thinking that he takes control of Hunter's programming, maybe through some taking advantage of his interfacing system, and locks him in his own head a la Connor and Amanda to sic him after Vee and Flapjack (assuming that Philip's main goal, similar to both canons, is to eradicate deviants). It's likely that his friends will try to apprehend him, Vee or Gus will try (and maybe fail a couple times) to delete the programming while Camila deals with Philip. The guy is old and decrepit and Camila would absolutely whoop his ass with the ease of swatting a fly.

Things will be fine; Vee is all good and they manage to delete whatever programming screwed with Hunter's control, but that kid is going to be HELLA anxious about interfacing again from then on since he's afraid of 1) losing his own control and 2) potentially passing the virus onto someone else. It could go two ways at that point: Hunter could either kill Flapjack since Flapjack is technically a deviant android and therefore a target, or we can be nice and let Flapjack live to help him heal from this brand-new trauma.

So yeah hopefully that sates some curiosity! I'm glad you're interested in it because I honestly really love to think of new stuff whenever my brain decides to work hahaha