#crack or something which there is no canon evidence for

[mishkakagehishka]

Whwre's the post ab how tiktok subcultures are all just posers i'm feeling it

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

About the "kwamis as mentors" angle: Interesting to read and analyse, yet I can't help but feel they were not necessarily meant to be seen as mentors. At least to me, they seemed to be kind of whacky mascot characters who are tied to the lore, who have a personality to crack a joke or point something out or cause a little situation or be cute, but nothing more.

They are rather naive magical entities chained to jewelry (a fact they don't seem to mind that much or think about at all except for Plagg) and all that talk about "being around for 5000 years" and having seen many holders before is just there to make them seem more wise than they actually act like. From what I've seen on the show I would even assume there's a threshold to how much they can even mature emotionally and understand humans. Sometimes Tikki and Plagg even come off as indifferent and egoistical towards their holders (like an example you gave with Tikki, or Plagg's fixation on cheese over Adrien at times).

So...sorry if I missed it, but why do you view them as mentor characters? You made an interesting post about rom-com vs magical girl and the magical girl part is exactly why I always viewed them just as critters to appeal to kids, but nothing more. I can see that the show's writing is so inconsistent that sometimes they are portrayed as wise but more often then not they are just background noise to get a little interaction on screen so that the characters are not talking to themselves about miraculous stuff or to point something out for the audience.

The show's writing is pretty weird, so there are elements that are hard to get a clear read on. The Kwamis are one such element. When they're one-on-one with their chosen, they often feel like mentors to me. When they're all together, they almost always read like "critters to appeal to kids" (mostly because there are too many of them to let them have individual personalities when they're all together). So while I think that they're supposed to be mentors, it's not like that's the only canon-accurate read.

To dig into what I mean by the one-on-one writing, let's look at this exchange from Feast:

Master Fu: See, Wayzz? If Marinette had kept her Miraculous, the sentimonster would have swallowed her right up. Wayzz: Or she would have transformed into Ladybug and fought it. Master Fu: Sometimes fighting is futile, Wayzz.

And then later on we get this:

Wayzz: Master, look! Ladybug and Cat Noir, despite their ridiculous costumes, they haven't let you down! Wang Fu: That's impossible! They don't have their Miraculous! Wayzz: Master, it's obvious it's them—who else would do something so crazy? Cat Noir (Adrien): Hey, have a taste of this! Some exploding banana split from Bananoir! Ladybug (Marinette): Much tastier than any Miraculous! Wayzz: Look, Master, there's no use in running! Your disciples never give up the fight, no matter what! With or without their Miraculous, they are Ladybug and Cat Noir!

That's some pretty active mentoring right there.

Wayzz is probably the character that feels the most like a mentor to me. When he's with Fu, he feels like Fu's partner or adviser, which is why I think that the Kwami's aren't supposed to just be cute critters. They're regular ol' Jimmy Crickets meant to act as a conscience that the characters can talk to since this is visual media and you want a way for the characters to talk through their thoughts instead of having them do it all internally.

I also present this exchange from Desperada as evidence:

Adrien: Plagg, Ladybug needs me. She needs "Adrien"! Plagg: If you asked me, this whole idea is worse than cheese in a can. Adrien: She thinks I'm the perfect guy for this mission. Plagg: You can't be Cat Noir and another superhero at the same time! Which means that you're not the perfect guy for this mission. Adrien: The Lucky Charm told her I am. Plagg: That's not how it works. Why am I bothering? You're not even listening.

We then get Plagg reiterating that this is a bad idea through multiple loops, ending with this:

Plagg: Ah! At last, you've come to your senses. Adrien: I'm not sure Ladybug will have very fond memories of her experience with "Adrien Agreste". Plagg: Then make up for it as Cat Noir.

See? I told you Plagg can be a good mentor when he wants to! Tikki, take notes!

I'd even call this bit from Sapitos some quality subtle mentoring from Trixx:

Alya: Oh please, Ladybug! We'd make a great team! I could help Cat Noir and you every day! Ladybug:(her earrings ring) I'm about to transform back! Hurry! Alya: Please? Ladybug: I have to go! I'm trusting you! (opens a nearby door and goes inside, so she can detransform) Trixx: You're absolutely right, Alya. I'm sure the three of you would make quite the team! You have all the makings of a true superhero. You're strong, brave; but most of all, you're trustworthy.

Way to both build Alya up and reminder her of her duty, Trixx. Gold star. Quality mentorship!

So are the Kwamis supposed to be mentors? Who knows! I just see them fill the role often enough to feel comfortable judging them through that lens.

Miraculous also isn't the only magical girl team show to make the cute critters into mentors. That's a pretty standard path even though it's also common to see the critters used to sell merch/appeal to kids and nothing more. In terms of classic magical girl team shows, I'd say that the Kwamis are written way more like Luna and Artemis from Sailor Moon than Mini Mew from Tokyo Mew Mew.

[hawkinasock]

I ADORE YOU. MORE ABUNDANCE YANQING AND YAOSHI. PLEASE.

So, can you please learn more tell about this theory?

(You draw beautifully.)

GAAAGHHHH this was the first thing I saw in the morning omg tsym <333 dw I've got my mitts on and I'll get to cooking o7 I assume you're asking me to explain the theory? Which I'll gladly do. Very long post incoming.

Essentially, the general idea is that Yanqing is related to abundance in some way, be it simply second-hand association, or he himself being an abomination/denizen of abundance himself - I personally believe in the latter. While I've made art of Yaoshi and Yanqing in a parental dynamic, it's not something I see as a viable theory, so much as it's just a fun little crack theory. Yaoshi is more likely a passive creator than an actual loving parent. There's a bunch of different interpretations for what Yanqing is and how he came to be based on the little pieces of evidence found in canon. One piece of evidence is his blonde hair.

As far as I can tell, the only other blonde Xianzhou characters are Dan Shu and Luocha (Luocha isn't a Xianzhou native himself, but he was a part of the quest so I'm including him anyway), both directly associated with the abundance, as well as Yaoshi themselves.

Interestingly enough, Dan Shu has the same hair part as Yanqing, but that could just be chalked up to design cohesion and framing the face/mask, rather than anything meaningful.

Edit: someone pointed out to me that Dan Shu's hair was initially brown, but after joining the disciples, it turned blonde.

Edit: I somehow forgot to include Phantylia, who has blonde hair in her third phase, and even a hair part. There's also a disciple of Sanctus Medicus in a cell in the shackling prison who also has blonde hair. Every character I've found who has blonde hair is either a disciple, or canonically connected to Yaoshi

(I considered adding Hongling, the fanatic fan in the stands of the Skysplitter, but I think his hair might just be dyed, which isn't too crazy an idea for a stan. Still mentioning him though, since he's a really weird character)

If you look closely at Yanqing's clothes, there's a reoccurring vine-esc pattern on all layers of his hanfu. They can also be seen on his sword. It doesn't necessarily mean much by itself, but it's an interesting detail I and others have noticed.

However, I want to point attention to Yanqing's phone case, because it's actually super interesting, and probably the most convincing piece of evidence imo. Not only does it relay the vine motif, but that to me looks like a leaf detaching from a branch and transforming into a swallow. If the characters' phone cases are meant to reflect their personality/reference lore elements, then this is probably the most blatant in terms of potential lore.

Edit: the little decals on the camera lense are in the image of Yanqing's hair ornament, which happens to look like a pair of leaves, midribs and all.

Speaking of swallows, has anyone noticed that there's flocks of golden swallows inside the roots of the arbor? I only noticed on my second playthrough, but I haven't stopped thinking about them since. How odd is it that out of any other bird, the arbor has swallows specifically. Of course, Swallows aren't Yanqing's motif alone, as the wardance teaser silhouette's have what look like swallows in the background art, but I still think it's important to bring up, considering Yanqing is literally COVERED in them, from his ornaments, to his swallow tail-shaped coat tail, to his entire playstyle.

Low-quality ss of the swallows for reference.

Luocha also has a line about Yanqing that, setting aside any theory-crafting, seems pointless. He has nothing to say, which, if he was truly genuine, what purpose does this line even serve? I can't infer much from the delivery of the other languages, since I have no knowledge on them or their social cues, but in en, the tone is very... discreet? It's just the way he says it is very off, like he's being dishonest. Too quick; too matter-of-fact; It's artificial honesty. I hope you get what I mean lol. I can only assume the va was directed to say it that way for a reason.

A passage from Yanqing's 2nd char story reads: "It's recorded in the military annals of the Cloud Knights how Jing Yuan came to discover the young boy, stood his ground against public opinion, and incorporated him into the armed forces. However, in the family lineage column, Yanqing's lineage was relegated to the category of unknown."

From Yanqing's 4th char story: "Some speculated that he [Jing Yuan] was cultivating an heir, others claimed he only kept him around just to use this kid as a secret weapon. Jing Yuan never offered a response."

Jing Yuan is really suspicious. Like, incredibly suspicious. Even more than Luocha. Yanqing is already known to be an orphan, but the lack of clarity over the details of Jy discovering him, as well as the fact that he has no known relatives in their database is very odd. Speaking to Jing Yuan's npc in-game allows the player to inquire about Yanqing's origin, but Jing Yuan's response is far from helpful. You'd think the man who decks out his Lieutenant in protective charms and locks, and who raised the kid from, at oldest, toddler years, would be a little more eager to spurge on about stories from Yanqing's childhood, but he instead chooses to dance around the topic and make light-hearted remarks about Qingzu's furphies. Obviously, you can't and shouldn't expect to get all of a characters lore in one serving, but revealing so little definitely implies a lot more, as we've seen with Luocha.

These details are the reason why, if Yanqing does turn out to be related to the abundance, be it a spawn of the arbor, or a creation of Yaoshi themselves, I believe that at least Jing Yuan knows and is keeping it all under wraps. Maybe the whole reason Jing Yuan assigned him as his aide in the first place was to keep a close eye on him. Rather ironic a general of the hunt would risk everything to protect the thing he's sworn to destroy.

But that's just my two cents. Thank you anon for giving me a reason to spurge about this theory finally, as it's become so dear to my heart.

More art will be posted as I go along, so don't touch that dial.

[an-exasperated-hades-kid]

So I've been seeing a lot of will solace hate, and I'm here to defend my son.

First of all, he's not a toxic person at all he's a human who can mess up at times and be unintentionally rude, like in that one scene boo where he says

‘Oh, please.’ Will sounded unusually angry. ‘Nobody at Camp Half-Blood ever pushed you away. You have friends – or at least people who would like to be your friend. You pushed yourself away. If you’d get your head out of that brooding cloud of yours for once –

^ that is rude but he didn't have bad intentions because according to him nico wasn't scary and the people that he hung out with - Lou Ellen and Cecil- didn't think that nico was scary either as they were both friendly towards him when they met him at the Roman camping area outside chb so while his delivery wasn't good he meant no harm and he also helped nico realize that not everyone hates him and then there are a few jokes that he made that people consider toxic or offensive but nico was never offended or sad about these jokes he only rolled his eyes and acted exasperated so he knew will meant no harm .

Will is canonically described as a laid-back and calm person, but he is also stubborn when it comes to certain things like medical related things which is understandable since he can feel everything physically wrong with a person by just touching them and is persistent that they don't die and Take care of themselves which is understandable since he saw majority of his siblings die and doesn't want more ppl to die .

Will is actually quite a complex character he's calm and laid back but he's stubborn and strict when he needs to be he's supportive and loving to nico but since he's a kid he struggles with being understanding sometimes hence why he asks persephone for advice on how to be there for nico properly showing that he's mature enough to ask for help . He's also someone represses his emotions because he thinks that as head counselor, he has to be a perfect example, and he told this apollo in the 1st toa book. He's also pretty insecure about his abilities, as shown in boo

Evidence:

You did,’ confirmed Nico. ‘But it was the way you did it. You made it clear that you wanted me around. You said you wanted me to come to the infirmary and help, because … because you could use a “friendly face”.’

‘It was true. And you did help.’

‘You brought me closer instead of rejecting me,’ Nico said, his voice cracking. ‘I’d never been called a friendly face. Ever. You made me rethink everything – my place in camp, my crush on Percy, my future. It took you scolding me like you were the camp director to make me realize that I was … wanted.

___

But with Nico … It’s hard, Persephone. I want the best for him, and he seems to disappear into his darkness, like he’s hiding in a place where he doesn’t want my light.’

‘Then why not offer him your darkness

_____

Nico sighed in exasperation. He hated working with other people. They were always cramping his style, making him uncomfortable. And Will Solace … Nico revised his impression of the son of Apollo. He’d always thought of Will as easygoing and laid back. Apparently, he could also be stubborn and aggravating

_______________________________________

In conclusion will isn't toxic and he isn't perfect and if I'm wrong about something please point it out cause I haven't read the books in a while and if I missed something please point it out and I'm sorry for the typos I wrote this without wearing my glasses as 3 am after studying for a test

[gimmethatagustd]

who's your bias? | kth

Everyone says idols shouldn’t date their fans. Little did you know the crazy sasaengs aren't the ones who might ruin your relationship. It might just be your boyfriend's best friends.

» pairing: idol!taehyung x music producer girlfriend!reader

» genre: BTS | 18+ | idol au | established relationship | fluffy smut | lil bit of angst | an attempt at army-specific humor

» wc/date: 12.6k | January 2023

» warnings: canon divergent (i'm just making shit up y'all, as usual) | jealousy | relationship insecurity | reader might seem annoying at first but i swear it gets cute very quickly | tae enjoys using terms of endearment | soft!dom tae | finger sucking | thigh riding | tae's got a Big Dick, but what else is new? | blowjob | fingering | unprotected vaginal sex | overstimulation | a breeding kink is ~hinted at~ | cunnilingus | yoonmin4ever

» notes: this was entirely self-indulgent 😂 i hope my taehyung whores enjoy my first idol au oneshot. also i wrote 80% of this while i was high and with no beta so if it's bad, now you know why

» masterlist | ao3 | join my taglist

» what was jai listening to? impatient - jeremih ft. ty dolla $ign

“Y/N, stop it right now.” 

Your boyfriend breathes the command faster than you can even open your mouth to greet him. With a roll of your eyes, you put your phone on speaker and sit it on the floor beside you. Rummaging through the cardboard boxes littering your apartment is easier done with both hands. 

“Why hello, Taehyung. What a pleasure to hear from you.”

“Are you seriously mad at me right now?” From the whine in his voice you’re positive he’s wearing a deep pout, bottom lip jutting out as far as it can. You love kissing his pouts away. 

But not this time! And not just because you’re on opposite sides of the world. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep? It’s so late there and I’m sure you’re very tired from displaying your dick to all of America for three hours.” 

The cardboard box in front of you has “BEDROOM” scribbled in your father’s handwriting on the side in thick, black Sharpie. It’s full of little trinkets and random decor. A Shooky plushie is crammed into the corner in between a cracked Army bomb and a small framed photo of you with your parents. You smile to yourself despite your boyfriend’s huffing over the phone. Your father had given you a strange look as he helped you pack the items as if to ask, Really? Do you really need these? 

Just because you’re dating a member of BTS now doesn’t mean you can’t cherish your old BTS merch! It’s not weird, in your opinion. It would only be weird if you made it weird. And you weren’t making it weird. 

“I did not display my dick!” 

You roll your eyes for probably the fifth time while you ponder where to put Shooky. You'd kept it on your dresser in your old home in the States. Something tells you Taehyung won’t appreciate the lack of a Tata beside it. 

“You were thrusting and throwing it around! And pointing at it while doing it, too!” 

“Y/N!” 

“Don’t Y/N me! I have my TikTok evidence!” 

With your cracked Army bomb in hand, you open the app in question, scrolling through your favorited videos until you get to the one. The one uploaded only a day before. The one you’d texted to Taehyung which prompted his immediate phone call. 

“And what does the caption say?” you ask but then cut Taehyung off before he can answer the question. “It says, and I quote, ‘I will never forget Taehyung doing this. I looped this for hours. Kim Taehyung lives in my head rent-free.’ Hashtag Taehyung. Hashtag HipsDon’tLie. With the woozy face emoji. And do we need to discuss the music choice?” 

“Y/N, can you please-” 

“Slut Me Out,” you deadpan in a monotone voice. “That is the song they chose for you.”

The other end is silent for so long you start to feel bad. Every time your jealousy spikes, you seem to act on impulse rather than thinking through how you might make Taehyung feel. Yes, he sometimes plays his part in the group a little too well, but you also knew that this was his job. It’s his job to make people get excited - excited for the music, the group, and himself as an idol. 

Still, your opinion is the most important to him, and you know that. 

“Jagiya…” Taehyung sniffles and you feel your heart shatter. 

Fuck, you really are a bitch, aren’t you? 

“Tae, I’m sorry.” 

“No, I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know, I didn’t really think anything of it. It’s just an act, y’know?” 

You did know. Away from the stage and the cameras, Taehyung is quiet, almost shy. He’s happy to be a silent observer of whatever chaos his members create. He gifts everyone with puffy cheeks and boxy grins, sometimes a boisterous laugh that manages to make your heart soar every time. But the soft-spoken soul you listen to old school R&B with while you smoke strawberry swisher blunts on the balcony late into the night, and convince that yes, the apartment is soundly built and no, the balcony will not randomly fall out beneath you… That person is different from the person you see wearing a resting bitch face in interviews or the person who chews away at imaginary gum during concerts. 

You find all versions of Taehyung endearing, although the fake gum chewing is kind of embarrassing if you wanted to be perfectly honest. 

“I know, Tae. I’m sorry I’m being judgmental for no reason,” you insist and you hope he believes you. Complaints about his idol status typically resulted in red eyes and sniffles, yet sometimes you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing his pressure points despite his sensitivity.  

Your apology puts Taehyung in a better mood because his following comment is cheekier than you expect. 

“You get jealous a lot, jagi.” His smug tone is close to bringing back your irritation. 

“I am not jealous of some fans in a stadium, thanks.” 

“Good,” he says more cheerfully. “‘Cause I only have sights for you.” 

That makes you laugh and you feel your earlier heaviness disappear. “You mean, you only have eyes for me?” 

“Isn’t that what I said?” 

You shake your head as if Taehyung can see you. A few photo strips are beneath Shooky in the cardboard box. You silently curse your father (respectfully and endearingly) for casually placing something so fragile in the bottom of a box. The photos are of you and Taehyung in a photo booth at a birthday party for an idol you didn’t know. An actor, you think. You thumb at one of the corners of the photo strip that has curled inward. Taehyung’s hair was straight then, and short, falling just above his ears. You much prefer the thick waves he wears now. 

“You’re so cute.” 

“Only for you.” 

“Oh shut up, now you’re being corny.” 

You’re not sure why, but you try to suppress the smile Taehyung’s light flirting coaxes out of you, even though he can’t see you. Accepting his teasing affection has always been hard for you. All the boys are too caring; it makes you uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. You’re just not used to men acting like that. They’re all very different from the men you’ve been around growing up. There’s a reason Taehyung can’t listen to you talk about your ex-boyfriends without getting pissed. 

“Mmm, maybe. I’m also sleepy,” Taehyung slurs. His voice is so soft you almost can’t hear him, so you lift your phone to your ear rather than use the speaker setting. The smoothness feels like a lullaby gentle enough to carry you to sleep, even though it’s still daylight in Seoul. 

“Goodnight, Kim.” You decide for him, knowing he would stay on the phone if you let him. 

Confirming your thoughts, Taehyung grumbles when he speaks next. “I love you, jagi.” 

“I love you, too.” People always talk about the “honeymoon phase” when the butterflies disappear and couples no longer feel the exciting draw toward each other anymore. It’s been less than a year since you started dating Taehyung, but you’re confident that your heart will always flutter when you hear those three words so confidently spoken. Taehyung had been the first to say it; something about that makes you even more sure of your relationship. 

“Can’t wait to see you soon so I can slut you out.” 

“... please go to bed and never say that ever again.” 

In the distance, you hear someone start yelling. The noise is accompanied by a rather aggressive ruffling sound, as though Taehyung’s phone is being rubbed against fabric. 

“Are you two having phone sex?” The second voice accuses, this time sounding much clearer. 

“Hyung, leave me alone,” Taehyung whines. “Y/N, tell him to go away.” 

You let out a long sigh, but the grin finally cuts through the hardened expression you try to maintain. “Goodnight, Jimin.” 

It sounds like the two boys start physically fighting each other before Taehyung lets out a breathy, “Goodnight, baby,” accompanied by Jimin screeching something you can’t understand before the call ends. 

With a shake of your head, you leave your phone on the floor and get up to position Shooky and your Army bomb on your dresser. You’ll figure out what to do with it later, you decide.

Later ends up being three more days of you giving a half-assed attempt to sort through the boxes. Your bedroom is mostly organized by the end of the week with only one more box remaining, shoved into the corner of the room. It’s a bunch of family keepsakes that will make you cry if you start looking at them. 

Right now you want to make a beeline to the kitchen. 

It’s hard not to trip over all the boxes that litter your apartment, most of them already torn open and half-empty. The kitchen hasn’t been fully unpacked, either, so you opt for instant ramen in the microwave rather than dig for utensils to cook a proper meal. It’s pretty bad. You and Taehyung are a terrible match; you both have no idea how to cook. There’s no point in all the fancy kitchenware your parents bought you. You’ll never master any of it. It’s not because you don’t put in any effort, like Taehyung. You’re genuinely shit at cooking. 

And baking? That’s even worse. 

You stand in the middle of your living room while you shovel ramen in your mouth. It’s too hot, so you inhale loudly through your teeth to cool the food off before it scorches your throat. There’s so much you need to do, and it’s making you nauseous thinking about it. Somewhere in the mix of boxes are your Hangeul textbooks that you should be studying in your free time instead of playing video games and video chatting with your friends. It’s only been a week and a half, but you already feel lonely without the constant presence of your friends and family. The boys have been on tour the entire time. Namjoon decided you moving to Seoul while they’re on tour would make your arrival less suspicious, and everyone would be more focused on the tour than whatever an unknown American music producer is doing. 

In your opinion, Namjoon was overthinking the whole thing as he is wont to do. But you let him be bossy because you know his heart is in the right place. It’s not like the public knows you’re dating Taehyung. There hasn’t been any press or rumors about you at all. You’re genuinely unknown.

You prefer it that way. 

Your fork scrapes the bottom of the bowl and you realize you’ve scarfed down the ramen without much thought. You suppose it’s easier to do that when you aren’t using chopsticks. (You’ve managed to master them, for the most part, but you prefer to fall back on forks when you’re alone at home.) 

You place the bowl on top of the large cardboard box in front of the couch. It has the pieces for your coffee table inside, but you haven’t had the energy to put it together yet. The part of you that allows your feminism to leave your body whenever the boys are around is kind of hoping you can get one of them to build it for you. Maybe Yoongi. He’s into that kind of stuff. 

With a sigh, you flop onto the couch and slip your phone out of your back pocket. A few Whatsapp and KakaoTalk notifications light up the screen. You used to be terrible at responding to texts, but moving halfway across the world has made you a better texter. It’s a way to fill the loneliness. 

[Alex] hey bitch

[Alex] this 15 hour time difference sucks ass

[You] I’m sorry 

[Alex] its fine. i’ll forgive you for chasing money and dick

[You] I’m not chasing dick omg

[Alex] dont lie

[Alex] whats that tiffany pollard meme

[You] Stop

[Alex] i know his dick is big. i know it! i know it’s big!

[You] I hate you

[Alex] you didnt deny it. anywayyy did you see this? 

As much as you adore Alex, she’s an expert at getting under your skin. You remind yourself that it’s all harmless as you click on the link she texts you. 

BTS' V woos fans with his casual rockstar visuals on his return from world tour

Kim Taehyung, also known professionally as V of BTS, was spotted at John F. Kennedy International Airport on Friday. The singer is reportedly returning early to South Korea ahead of his band members after completing the final performance of their…   

You don’t know why you read the shitty k-pop tabloids. You figure it’s the same reason why people make a hobby out of watching bad movies. There’s a weird itch in the back of your brain that can’t be scratched unless you open the link Alex texts you— teasingly, of course, because she thinks she’s being funny. Your friends don’t understand the nauseous feeling you get when you scroll through the article and accidentally click on a link that takes you to an external website flaunting doctored photos of your boyfriend with Jennie Kim. 

BTS’ V and BLACKPINK’s Jennie Spend Romantic Weekend in Paris 

You know it’s a lie because the weekend in question was the same weekend Taehyung flew you to Seoul to do a final walkthrough of your apartment before you signed off on it. Taehyung spent every second of that weekend by your side. 

The article makes you sick anyway. 

You’re so caught up in trying to craft a text to Alex to explain why she needs to leave you the fuck alone that you don’t hear the sound of your apartment’s front door open over the music you’re listening to. 

“I’m gone for a few months and I come home to you listening to some other band?” 

“Holy shit, Tae, you can’t do that to me,” you yelp when Taehyung leans over the back of the couch to hover over your shoulder. 

“Explain yourself.” His voice is warm honey and milk even when his strong eyebrows point downward in mock disappointment. The expression is almost convincing, his naturally sharp features making conjuring up a dark appearance easier. 

“You can’t tell me Stray Kids’ new album isn’t good.” 

“Jagiya, I just got home,” Taehyung whines. “Kiss me and stop thirsting over Australian boys.” 

He touches your chin to tip your head backward. You lean your head against the back of the couch and look up at him. The position makes you think of the iconic Spiderman kiss, seeing Taehyung’s face upside down above yours. 

“Y’know, I worked on a few of their songs. Before I met you.” 

The confession is meant to tease him for making fun of your music choice. Of course, words’ impact often diverges from intent. It’s in the twist of his face and the way he pulls back slightly just before his lips brush against yours that you know you’ve made him jealous. 

“Oh did you?” His hair hangs around his face as he leans over you.

“Mhm, Bang Chan’s accent is really cu—” 

You shouldn’t be shocked when strong hands squeeze your waist and Taehyung hauls you off the couch to stand in front of him. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you tightly against his chest. 

“You didn’t work with any other groups before us, okay?” 

You purse your lips to hold in the laughter that threatens to explode from your chest. All you can do is nod in agreement. It reminds you of girls getting upset when they remember their boyfriends dated other people before them. 

“Good.” 

Taehyung dips his head down to connect his lips with yours. The closeness of his body forces you to inhale his cologne and feel goosebumps travel down your arms. It’s been months since you’ve so much as held Taehyung’s hand and you feel like you’ve been starved. Your body trembles so severely that you dig your nails into his biceps to hold yourself upright. You moan into his mouth, already open and ready for you because Taehyung is nothing but giving. 

The kiss isn’t bruising, not yet. It’s slow and deep. Taehyung takes his time reminding himself of your taste. You grip the nape of his neck to pull him down as you meet him by standing on your tiptoes. His height has always been one of your favorite aspects of his physical appearance. Dark, watchful eyes that pierce into your soul might be at the top of the list. 

His tongue swirls around yours, only retreating to suck your bottom lip into his mouth. His teeth graze along the plump skin, each nibble making you dizzy in the head. You normally hate wet kisses, but there’s something satisfying about seeing Taehyung’s lips pink and shiny with your spit when he finally pulls away. Pride thrums in your chest; you did that. You made his tan skin flush pink. You made his eyes dark and sharp. You made his breathing ragged and desperate. 

And, fuck, does it feel good. 

You run your fingers along his sharp jawline and watch the muscles flex beneath his taunt skin. “Don’t clench your jaw like that. It’s not good for you,” you muse, allowing your fingers to skim over his Adam’s apple. 

“I’m trying to stay calm.” 

Your eyebrows fly up with concern. “What’s wrong?” 

“Wanna bend you over the couch and fuck you until you can’t walk,” Taehyung says with such a gentle tone that the stark difference between what he says and how he says it has your body trembling once again. 

You inhale sharply and let your hand fall from his throat. Instead, you reach for the lapels of his leather jacket and squeeze them. 

“Why don’t you?” 

You can’t look at him when you ask. Even though you’ve been dating for almost a year, Taehyung still intimidates the hell out of you sometimes. The darkness of his eyes when he gets horny sends you reeling. You’re sure if you look up, you’ll see The Look. He stares at you unabashedly with an expression of desire so strong you feel like he might consume you just by looking at you.

“You haven’t eaten yet and I need to take a shower.” 

“How do you know I haven’t eaten yet?” With a pout, you finally dare to look your boyfriend in the face. The way he gapes at you is judgmental and doesn’t make you feel devour-worthy at all. 

“I know you,” he scoffs. “You’re just like Jimin. I bet you haven’t even been awake more than two hours.” 

Barely a year into your relationship and he’s already reading you like an open book. You can’t stay salty about it when his bread cheeks come out and he’s giggling at the frustrated “hmph” you let out. 

“I’ll be fast,” he promises with a smirk that collapses into another fit of giggles. The hearty slap on your ass encourages you toward the kitchen while Taehyung makes his way to the bathroom. 

You did already eat, but today is an outlier. Normally, you are like Jimin, staying up too late and sleeping in longer than everyone else. And sometimes you’re like Yoongi, too. You get so caught up in the songs you’re working on that you forget to stop to eat or pee or look somewhere other than at a computer screen. 

The move to Seoul threw you off your usual work schedule. Everything you need to get done is looming over your head like a dark cloud. If Namjoon comes back before you finish editing the English lyrics of his upcoming single, you might die of embarrassment, no matter how many times Taehyung insists that Namjoon won’t be disappointed. 

Taehyung wasn’t lying about being quick. He’s wearing a white cotton t-shirt and grey sweatpants when he returns, hair damp and swept away from his face. You’re still standing at the fridge, painfully aware of how little food you have. Plenty of grapefruit soju, though. Priorities. 

“Do you want ramen?” You eventually ask. When Taehyung doesn’t respond, you turn to give him a sheepish smile. He probably thinks you’re ridiculous. 

Taehyung is sitting at the kitchen table with your phone in his hands. His eyebrows scrunch together and he turns to you with narrowed eyes. 

“Why were you looking at this?” 

He lifts your phone in your direction. The doctored photos of him and Jennie glare back at you. You feel your heart drop into the pit of your stomach.  

“Tae, I didn’t—” You snap your mouth shut because, honestly, it looks bad. It looks bad no matter how you explain yourself because Taehyung’s bottom lip is already quivering and you know you’re both replaying the stupid TikTok phone call in your heads right now. 

The two of you stare at each other for only god knows how long. You’re the first to break; not many people can hold their own in a staring contest with Kim Taehyung. Yoongi is probably the only one. Jungkook would give a valiant effort, but he’d ultimately crumble in a fit of nervous giggles. Taehyung is scary when he wants to be. 

Dating Taehyung started as an unbelievably exciting experience. You had your brush with fame before meeting the boys, but Taehyung was the first idol to give you genuine attention beyond whatever job needed to be done. Not that you’d ever sought it out; you had more dignity than that. No, Taehyung pursued you. Who could blame you when you fell head over heels for the sinfully gorgeous man who seemed larger than life? The long legs, big hands, and chiseled features were dangerous enough. Throw in a glowing personality, quirky sense of humor, and a big-hearted desire to care for others and you had a man who was too good to be true. 

And who are you? Some dumb American kid with average looks, a standoff personality as a result of having a bit of social anxiety (and trouble acclimating to a new country), and a penchant for fucking things up. Maybe it was your fault for not seriously considering how hard it was going to be to date an idol.  

“C’mere, jagi,” Taehyung murmurs, beckoning you. 

You expected waterworks— hell, you’re ready to start crying yourself. Instead, Taehyung wears a tired but soft smile. He holds your waist as you climb into his lap, straddling him. He wiggles a little in the chair to adjust you more comfortably on his thighs. 

“Koreaboo, really?” He gathers your face in his hands, thumbs running across your cheeks. His hands are soft and you regret not washing your face when you woke up. Sometimes it’s not fun to date someone as beautiful as Taehyung. 

“It was an accident.” 

You avoid his gaze, but Taehyung coaxes you back to look him in the eyes. It’s hard. There’s so much passion swimming in them. He blinks up at you with an earnestness that makes your heart ache because you’re always the one causing problems. 

“They could have at least used better pictures of me,” he complains with an exaggerated pout. 

“Maybe I’ll send them some from my private collection.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.” Taehyung grins as he threatens you, so you grin back. 

“Oh, I dare.” 

Quick fingers dig into your sides and you let out an embarrassing squeal. Taehyung doesn’t let up on tickling you until you’ve got tears in your eyes and your threats to elbow him in the face start sounding a bit too real. 

“Please don’t torture yourself with shit like that, okay?” He mumbles the request into your neck because your arms are thrown around his shoulders. 

You slide your fingers into his hair to cradle his head against your chest. When you dig your nails into his scalp he lets out a low groan. Nothing about the position you’re in is sexual, but you’re quickly reminded that this is the most skin-on-skin contact you’ve had with your boyfriend in months. With that fact in mind, you don’t feel bad when you scoot further into his lap and squeeze his thighs with your own. 

“Tae?” 

“Hmm?” When he tilts his head back to look up at you, he’s got that spacey, blissed-out look on his face. 

“Tell me you love me.” You place your finger against the little freckle on the tip of his nose.

The slow, boxy grin is almost better than hearing the words. Your finger migrates to touch the freckle on his lip. 

“I love you with all my heart.” He punctuates the confession with a kiss on the tip of your finger. “Your turn.” 

You roll your eyes, but it’s the reaction he’s looking for. 

“I love you, too. You dork.” 

“So romantic,” he laughs, but the amusement doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he watches you with lust darker than what consumed his expression earlier. 

You sit with your breath burning in your lungs as Taehyung slips his hands beneath your baggy t-shirt. His smooth palms slide up your rib cage until he reaches your tits, palming one in each hand. The tilt of his chin tells you he wants another kiss, and who are you to deny him what he wants? You dig your nails in his hair harder while you kiss him, tugging to angle his head in the direction you want. Small moments like this give the appearance that you’re in control. And Taehyung loves domming while you both pretend you’re the one in charge.

He pulls back with a wet smack. If it was anyone else, you’d be ashamed of the whimper that sounds from your throat as Taehyung removes his hands from your shirt. You grip his hair tighter, but Taehyung just chuckles. 

“So needy. What am I going to do with you?” 

You could give him a couple of ideas. There isn’t time, though. Taehyung is already grasping your chin and tilting it down. 

“Open up for me, okay?” 

Your cheeks grow hot as you open your mouth. You already know where this is going, so you stick out your tongue. Still, it’s difficult not to squirm when Taehyung presses his index and middle fingers flat against the wet muscle. 

“Suck.” 

You swallow around his fingers, sucking as best you can as he begins to thrust them into your mouth. It’s vulgar, the wet suctioning sound of his fingers dragging against your tongue. In and out, a steady pace that doesn’t go too fast. Taehyung has such long, gorgeous fingers. You quite enjoy when he wrecks your insides with them until you’re on the brink of tears. Which you’ve come to find is something Taehyung thoroughly enjoys doing. 

“You miss having your pretty mouth stuffed?”

You know any attempt at a spoken response will come out as a garbled mess. You whimper, eyes fluttering closed as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. You push your tongue in between his fingers and curl around them. 

“Gonna suck my cock like this, jagi?” He purrs the question, ending it so breathy it’s almost a moan as he eases over the term of endearment. “Show me how much you miss me, hm?” 

Maybe it’s the deep, sensual way he purrs jagi with heavy eyelids and that crooked smirk on his face. Maybe it’s because he bites his lip when he says it or that he lets his lip go with such slowness that you can see the way his teeth scrape across his plump bottom lip as it falls back into place. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s shoving his fingers just a bit deeper into your mouth. Maybe it’s all of these things that make you shift so that you can press your clothed pussy against Taehyung’s thigh. 

He flexes the muscle as you start rutting against it, rolling your hips to the rhythm of his fingers gliding in and out of your mouth. 

“Look at you.” His lips brush against the curve of your ear, sending a shiver down your back. “So desperate for me that you’re going to get off on only my thighs?” 

You’re not the type to be able to orgasm just from rutting and friction like this, but Taehyung has managed to learn your body faster than you ever expected. He slips his free hand beneath the waistband of your leggings and underwear. It’s the quick circling of his thumb against your throbbing clit combined with the rutting of your hips that sends you over the edge. 

“That’s it, baby, you did so well,” Taehyung whispers praise against the skin his lips have access to on your collarbones as you shudder in his lap. “Love seeing you cum, fuck, doing this shit over KakaoTalk fucking sucked.” 

Taehyung finally removes his fingers from your mouth when you stop moving. Seeing the string of spit that connects his fingers to your lips makes you feel weak, but you’re riding the high of his praise and skillful fingers, so you don’t care. 

He wipes your spit onto his sweatpants and gently holds your chin with his other hand. He gives you a soft smile and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip. You can taste yourself when you flick your tongue over the trail his thumb left.  

“I missed you so much,” he admits with a gentle kiss on your lips. “And not just because of this. I missed all of you, everything about you, just being with you.” 

“I missed you, too.”

It’s meant to be a confirmation of your mutual love, but it comes out like a whine. You know Taehyung doesn’t mind from the way his eyes zero in on your tongue running along your bottom lip. You don’t have to say anything more for him to know what you want. He nods once and you’re almost immediately on your knees between his legs.  

“Fuck.” He leans back in the chair and lifts his hips so you can tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Gonna be good for me, baby?” 

You quickly nod your head, though you’re focused on gently taking Taehyung’s cock in your hand. Alex isn’t wrong. Taehyung’s dick is big, but that doesn’t mean you have to go around talking about it. That’s for you to know and for others to wonder about. 

You had to sign an NDA before you were allowed to see it, anyway, but you’d keep your mouth shut even if no legal action would be taken against you for gossiping. 

“Kiss it first.” 

He tongues the inside of his cheek as he watches you. His eyelids droop lower when you plant a puckered, open-mouthed kiss on the head of his cock. You press the tip of your tongue against the slit to lick at the precum already leaking from him. The buck of his hips isn’t unexpected, but you feel like you need to remember how to do all of this after being away from him for so long. Not to mention how tired your jaw is about to be. 

Taehyung seems to sense your hesitation because he allows his body to go slack beneath you. The hand that has reached down to dig into your scalp doesn’t let up, but he doesn’t push your head down like he normally would when you finally slide his cock down your throat. 

He doesn’t buck his hips again, even when you drool so much that the inside of his thighs become just as wet as yours. You squeeze the base of his cock, twisting your wrist to the rhythm you’ve established when you can’t take all of him into your mouth. 

You reach down to gently roll his balls with your free hand. His cock twitches against your flattened tongue and you hum with satisfaction. 

“God, your fucking mouth–” 

You make eye contact with Taehyung as your hand ventures lower. There’s nothing more beautiful than the way his face crumples with pleasure when you massage his perineum. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop,” he whines. 

You ease up slightly but still suckle on the head of his cock for longer than Taehyung wants. Why not have a little fun? All you’ll end up doing is riling him up even more, and that can only be a good thing for you. 

Taehyung digs his fingers into your hair and yanks you up. It stings, but the pain might as well be white-hot pleasure once Taehyung is praising you with a gravelly voice. 

“You’re too fucking good at that.” 

You don’t even like sucking dick, but you’d do it all day, every day if Taehyung asked you to. But since he made you stop, you have other priorities to take care of, like the fact that there are way too many layers of clothes separating you from your boyfriend. While you were on your knees for him, Taehyung removed his shirt. The white cotton is discarded on the floor beside the chair and his half-dry hair is tousled around his head in a messiness only he could successfully pull off. 

After wiggling out of your leggings and underwear, you climb back onto Taehyung’s lap. His broad chest shudders beneath your touch as you run your hands down to meet his soft tummy. His responsiveness strokes the ego you didn’t realize you have. 

“Y’know, you never gave me the chance to ask you how travel went.” 

“Seriously?” He knows you’re teasing, but you like the mock-irritated tone of his voice. It makes his chest rumble. 

You use your grip on him to stabilize yourself as you grind into his lap. You scrape your nails at the nape of his neck and suck on his bottom lip. Taehyung moans into your mouth, low and throaty, when his cock glides through your wet folds as you roll your hips. He lets you pull his hair, head falling back to expose the smooth plane of his throat. Your lips leave his to latch onto his throat instead. The kisses you give him are slippery and biting and hot. 

“No hickeys, Y/N.” 

Taehyung’s scolding is deep and sharp; you both know he’s not fucking around. It’s a command he has had to throw your way more than once. The idea of marking him up is just so appetizing, but you know you can’t. Sure, makeup can make just about anything disappear, but it’s annoying to deal with and Taehyung isn’t particularly a fan of the side looks the makeup artists give each other when they see dark bruises littering his neck and collarbones. 

Maybe you’ll give him just a tiny one and suffer the consequences later. 

You cling onto him tighter when you feel two of his fingers slip inside of you. Spreading your thighs as wide as you can without throwing off your balance on the chair, you roll your hips into Taehyung’s hand to take his fingers deeper. 

“Please,” you moan against his neck. You can smell your shampoo and body wash on him. Something about him smelling like you makes you feel overwhelmingly possessive. He’s yours. Kim Taehyung is yours. 

He turns his head to the side to capture your lips with his own as he snakes his arm around your waist. The position allows him to pull you tightly against his chest. He holds you in place as he starts thrusting his fingers into your pussy just as he had thrust them into your mouth.   

Taehyung grunts as he keeps his legs spread in the chair, which in turn forces your thighs open when you try to squeeze them closed around his hand. 

“Stay still.” 

“Can’t.” You shake your head and thread your fingers through his hair, tugging the strands harder. 

It’s too much; Taehyung lights a fire against every inch of your body each time he touches you. If he was anyone else, you’d be singed, but Taehyung takes such good care of you. You’re not singed. You’re ignited. 

“You have no fucking idea,” Taehyung takes a deep breath, “No fucking idea how badly I’ve been craving you.” He warms you up with each thrust of his fingers, adding a third until you’re clawing at his shoulders. 

“So, ahh fuck, fuck me,” you gasp, your mouth hot against the corner of his jaw. Your teeth scrape against his skin and he merely lets his head fall back to give you more. 

“No please?” 

You bite his cheek in defiance and get a slap to the ass that only makes you want to bite him more. 

“Don’t be mean to me,” you whimper. 

Taehyung’s steady rhythm against your front wall has your orgasm burning so hotly in your core that you feel like you’re going to cum if he even so much as turns his head to look at you one more time. 

Your thighs are already sore by the time Taehyung removes his fingers from your pussy. He uses your sticky arousal as lube to stroke his cock and you don’t want to think about how excited you are about this. 

“Hurry up.” 

Taehyung raises his eyebrows at you just as he grips the inside of your thigh with one hand. The other he uses to line his cock with your body. You can feel the head press against your entrance, and you try to push your body down to swallow him whole, but Taehyung holds you up to stop you. 

“Impatient cockslut, aren’t you?” Taehyung chides. 

His previously spacey look is sharpened by the sparkle of mirth in his eyes. Your body tenses when he spits the insult at you, and he knows it’s making your clit throb even harder. 

“Tae.” You bite your lip because you’re close to begging at this point. 

Luckily, you don’t have to. Taehyung presses down your hip and you quickly take the lead, easing yourself onto his cock until you’re fully seated on his firm thighs. 

Your body burns from the stretch it has to make to accommodate him, but you knew it would. Even when you’re fully adjusted to him, there’s always a bit of a stretch. He also knows he has to let you ease into it to avoid slamming himself straight into your cervix. The first time it had happened, Taehyung genuinely thought he’d broken you. You kind of thought so, too, if you were going to be perfectly honest. The struggle of having a big-dicked boyfriend. 

“Okay?” He’s watching you with those lustful, dark eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum because you’re afraid of the way your voice will quiver if you try to say real words. 

You’re so full, it’s a bit overwhelming. Not just physically, but emotionally, too. You missed Taehyung a lot, but holding onto each other in such an intimate position is making you realize just how lonely you were without him. 

“I’m gonna move, okay?” 

He waits until you silently nod your head before he adjusts in the chair, scooting down slightly to spread his legs better. You allow him to adjust your legs, bending them at the knee and hooking them over the arms of the chair. With a tight grip on your ass, Taehyung pulls you down onto his cock at the same time he thrusts up into you. 

The pace Taehyung sets is desperate, but you don’t care. Your second orgasm is approaching at an alarming speed. It feels like it’s taking all of your energy to simply stay grounded with reality as Taehyung squeezes you and your hips crash into each other. You don’t even try to do anything, just let him take over your body as he pounds into you. For the most part, you’re a pillow princess and you both know it. Besides, how can you possibly keep up with someone so athletic? Taehyung’s stamina is ridiculous. Neither of you has an overstimulation kink, but Taehyung’s ability to just go and go and go might as well have given you one. None of this has ever bothered Taehyung, though. He likes giving more than receiving. 

“Oh fuck.” Taehyung nips at the base of your neck when you clench around his cock just to feel him shiver. 

There aren’t any rules about him marking you up. The petty side of him likes when you wear the dark bruises in the open, with no makeup or clothing to hide them. It’s a satisfying game he likes to play. He likes that everyone knows you’re getting dicked down and, therefore, are taken. 

You like the secret satisfaction of knowing it’s Kim Taehyung who gives you those marks, and no one even knows. 

What you don’t like is thinking about all the other people Taehyung may have enjoyed giving marks to. 

It’s hard not to let your mind wander. Taehyung has never talked to you about his previous relationships, and there’s no way for you to know about them if he doesn’t tell you. The media can’t be trusted to accurately report idols’ love lives; today has been a perfect example of that. You’re stuck with only your imagination to make up all kinds of scenarios. Maybe Taehyung has been with other k-pop idols, or models, or actresses - people with more money, who are prettier and more sophisticated than you. Hell, you’ve never even asked him about his sexuality. What if he really has been fucking Jungkook! What if they’re in love and you’re just something temporary? 

“I was made for you, jagi. You know that?” Taehyung’s breath is hot against your skin. His words are gentle, but the power with which he thrusts up into you is bruising. “Made for you.” 

It’s as if he can read your mind, as if he can somehow sense the insecurities threatening to pull you out of the moment. As always, Taehyung manages to bring you back to the present. 

Fuck, sometimes you wish he wouldn’t do shit like this to you. You’re already pathetically in love with him. You can’t imagine what more could come next, yet you feel yourself practically bursting from the seams with love.  

Your moans fall in line with the sound of the chair scraping the floor and your skin slapping against Taehyung’s with every thrust. When your mouth falls open, Taehyung presses his thumb against your tongue. With eyes fluttering closed, you suck on his thumb and try to hold on as your body rocks up and down. 

“Fuck, fuck, oh, god, Taehyung.” 

“Yeah, jagi?” Taehyung pulls down on the corner of your mouth until his thumb is dragging spit across your cheek. “Tell me.”

His voice is so soothing it makes you want to cry. It’s unfair. 

“You feel so fucking—“ 

It’s the slick pressure of his thumb massaging your clit that finally has you arching your back with a scream of Taehyung’s name. You’re so loud that you worry your neighbors heard you. There are plenty of people named Taehyung in the world, though, right? He could be any Taehyung. 

If you ask Taehyung later, he’ll probably say he can’t even remember his own name because of how tightly you clench around his cock when you cum. The feeling is so overwhelming that you think you might pass out from holding your breath. You gasp, inhaling more air than you exhale, but Taehyung keeps going. Every subsequent thrust knocks the air out of you until you have the opposite problem and now you can’t keep any air in.

“I’m gonna…”

“Go ahead, baby. Cum inside me.” 

Taehyung whimpers into the crook of your neck as he cums, the suggestiveness of your permission not lost on either of you. You’re on birth control and Taehyung knows a kid would probably ruin his career. So it doesn’t actually mean anything when you tell him he can stay inside; you’re not getting pregnant any time soon. Still, he gets off on coming inside of you, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

“I was going to make a joke that I should go on tour more often if that means I’ll cum that hard again, but I think I don’t want to go on tour ever again,” Taehyung admits with a shaky laugh. 

Just the idea of Taehyung leaving you for months on end again makes your stomach twist. He brings so much life to everywhere he goes, and you felt like much of that life left you when he did. Even if it was only temporary. 

Taehyung holds you until his cock is no longer twitching inside of you. Once his arms finally fall to his side, you try to untangle yourself from the chair as his body, but your limbs might as well belong to someone else.

“Help,” you squeak hoarsely. You feel like covering your face when Taehyung laughs. 

Taehyung helps you out of his lap, though you both are so wobbly on your feet that you hold onto the edge of the kitchen table when you stand. Taehyung looks wrecked, and you feel wrecked. You’re not sure your knees will ever work properly again. 

“Why are we still listening to Stray Kids?” Taehyung grumbles when he realizes the speakers are still playing in the background. 

“It’s a good album.”

“We should be fucking to my songs.” Taehyung pauses for a moment, thinking.“‘Christmas Tree’ is a fuckable song, right?” 

“You’re joking.” 

Taehyung shakes his head and reaches for your phone. His face is programmed to unlock your phone, just like your face unlocks his phone. You don’t understand how he can stand butt naked in the kitchen, cum all over his thighs, and search for the jazz playlist he made on your Spotify account. 

(“Jazz Hands, Y/N. It’s a vibe.”) 

Once his playlist has replaced Stray Kids, Taehyung wraps you up in a giant bear hug that lifts you off your feet. The hug nearly knocks the air out of you. 

“Can’t believe you made me dirty after I just showered.” You can’t see his pout, but you can hear it. 

“You’re the one who started this.” 

Taehyung scoffs. He starts walking down the hallway, practically dragging you in his arms as he goes. Your toes barely reach the ground, but you’re more content to let your body fall slack and make him do all the work. 

He kicks open the bathroom door and sits you down on the counter. 

“No, you did this. You looked at me with those pretty eyes and said, ‘Tae’.” He tries to mimic your voice by moaning his name. “I’m a weak, weak man. You influenced me. I just wanted you to eat.” 

“Well, I did eat.” 

Taehyung presses his lips together. “Don’t say it.” 

“I’m gonna say it.” You lean forward on the edge of the counter, trying to get in Taehyung’s space, but he’s ignoring you as he prepares the shower.

“Y/N.” 

“I ate…”  

“Stop.” 

“Deez nuts.” 

Taehyung drags his hands down his face, leaving his skin red. His reaction makes you giggle. 

“Technically you only played with deez nuts. Your mouth, sadly, did not ever come near my—” He tries to correct you, but you’re already throwing a scrunchie at his face. 

“You’re ruining the joke!” 

“It’s a bad joke!”

Maybe your sense of humor is way better than his, but as you suffer another Taehyung tickle attack, you can’t help but feel ridiculous for how you’d behaved earlier. How can he look at you with sparkling eyes and a boxy smile that makes him laugh with his teeth, hand coming up to cover his face when you give him your poutiest of pouts— how can you see such genuine kindness and think Taehyung would ever do anything to jeopardize what you have?

“Wassup motherfuckers!” 

You raise your eyebrows at Namjoon and tap the end of your chewed pen against your computer screen. Biting pens isn’t sanitary or cute but you do it anyway. The man’s eyes aren’t on your pen cap, though. He’s staring a hole into the podcast you pulled up because you know he doesn’t want to look at you. 

“Namjoon, why did you start the episode like that? This is not your Automatic Dick era,” you say with a deep sigh. 

“Beoryeo.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“The song. It’s called ‘Throw Away’, not… Automatic… Dick…” His correction dies on his tongue when he sees the exasperated look on your face. 

“That is not the point.” You shake your head and exit the website. You’re not in charge of PR. That’s someone else’s problem.

Your attention turns to the newest draft of the song you’ve been stressing out about since you arrived in Seoul. 

“This, though? This is fucking beautiful.” You adjust your laptop on the coffee table so Namjoon can better view the document. The two of you are at the dorm, lounging in the living room. 

There are a lot of highlighted lines and many comments throughout the document. You wish you were like the members who scribbled their lyrics in cute leather journals, but your brain is too much of a disaster and broken by technology. If you don’t have your laptop, you can't write lyrics for shit. 

“How are you so eloquent in Korean, but in English, you’re so…” You wave your hands around like you’re rifling through the air for the rest of your sentence. 

“Casual?” 

“Yes.” Sure, we’ll go with that, Joonie. 

“Well, that’s why I’ve got you!” 

At least he thinks you’re eloquent. The boys probably think you’re spending all your time in your office easily pulling masterpieces out of your ass when in reality you’re Googling, “what's the word for when you can't remember a word?” 

It’s lethologica, by the way.

You love Namjoon, but sometimes you think he has too much faith in you. Writing songs is hard. He of all people would know that. The difference between you and Namjoon is that when Namjoon struggles with writing he gets all emo, buys a bunch of weird furniture, and flies to another country to look at foreign art. When you struggle with writing, you just go home and play video games with Taehyung until you’re ready to try again. 

You’re both practicing avoidance, but Namjoon’s method just looks a little more dramatic than yours. Despite his assumptions, that doesn’t mean you’re better at handling yourself. You just do things differently. 

“We’re so lucky to have Jagi PD!” 

Namjoon groans and covers his head with the hood of his hoodie as Jungkook flies into the living room. 

Strong hands cup your armpits to lift you off of the couch. While Jungkook is crushing every bone in your body as he hugs you, all you can think about is how you were kind of a little bit sweaty, and now Jungkook has his hands all in your armpits. 

“Jungkookie, don’t pick people up without their consent.” 

Hobi enters the room behind the younger man and gives him a stern look which makes Jungkook immediately put you down on your feet. 

“Sorry, Y/N,” Jungkook says with a pout and galaxies in his eyes. You give his shoulder a playful smack. His baggy black t-shirt sticks to his skin, and you’re less worried about being sweaty. Jungkook is soaked. 

“Don’t worry about it, kid. I’m tough.” You flex your nonexistent muscles to make the precious maknae laugh his pout away.

“You should come train with us, Jagi.” 

“Jungkook,” Namjoon exclaims from where he still sits on the couch. 

He turns to his friend with wide eyes. “What?”

“Stop calling Y/N ‘jagi’. Taehyung is going to kill you.” This time Jimin pipes up. 

You hadn’t realized he’d entered the room, too. The three newcomers are varying degrees of sweaty with pink cheeks and wearing workout clothes. You suppose they’ve just come back from working out or perhaps a dance practice. They’ve all been back from tour for a few weeks now, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about the Bangtan Boys it’s that they never fucking rest. 

It’s exhausting just to think about it. 

“It’s okay,” you say with a shrug. “I think ‘Jagi PD’ is pretty fucking funny, to be honest.” 

The nickname Jungkook created for you is cute in your opinion. You are a music producer. Jagi PD is better than using your last name. It could be like your stage name. Maybe you can get Namjoon to credit you as Jagi PD under the songs you write. Using your first and last name seems lame when it’s paired with fun names like SUGA, RM, j-hope, and Slow Rabbit.

“Pretty fucking funny,” Jungkook repeats. He gives the other men a triumphant look before launching himself onto the couch with Jimin. 

Hobi chooses to sit on the couch on the opposite side of the room with Namjoon. From the way Namjoon has nestled back into his seat, it’s clear that his song will have to wait. It’s for the best. You’re not thinking about music anymore. 

You can’t blame Jungkook for interrupting your work, but the true source of distraction saunters into the room with his arms full of grocery bags. 

“Hey, jagiya,” Taehyung greets you sweetly with a kiss on your forehead as he walks through the living room to get to the kitchen. The final two men, Jin and Yoongi, trail behind Taehyung with their own bags. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jimin give Jungkook a pointed look when Taehyung uses the term of endearment. 

“What are you guys making?” Jungkook is curled up against the arm of the couch with his phone in hand. He’s holding it sideways which makes you think he’s probably playing In The Seom. The app is old news by this point, yet Jungkook’s attention is still consumed by it. It’s hilarious. 

You wish you could meet the game developers. Whoever made Taehyung’s character look so fucking feral deserves a raise. 

“You’re gonna cook?” You don’t hide your shock at the idea that Taehyung would be cooking anything, and that makes everyone laugh.

“I’m making dinner,” Yoongi clarifies. “And it’s a surprise, so stop paying attention to me.” He shoos Jin and Taehyung out of the kitchen. 

Jin sits on the couch with Jimin and Jungkook, while Taehyung sits with you. The armchair really only seats one person comfortably, but you wiggle so Taehyung can sit half next to you and half under you. He arranges your legs to drape over his lap. It’s nice, being this close. You can snuggle into his side and let him wrap his arms around you without worrying about who can see or what people think. All the boys are supportive of your relationship with Taehyung. It’s a bit frustrating that there’s no way for you to fully express how appreciative you are. 

“Well, what are we supposed to do?” From the couch in the living room, Jungkook shoots Yoongi a glare as if Yoongi’s request for some alone time while he cooks is a personal attack. 

Yoongi snorts and turns his back on Jungkook to begin unloading the groceries. “I don’t know, talk to each other.” 

“You guys are boring. I only want to talk to Y/N.” You’re not sure how you’ve become Jungkook’s favorite, but it’s exceptionally endearing. 

“You’re not even going to pay attention,” Namjoon points out. “Always on that damn phone.” 

He’s still got his hood up, and he looks like he was half-asleep. No one but you gets the joke, so Namjoon nods his head in your direction before returning to his slumped position. 

“I like watching Jimin-ssi’s character spin around in little circles.” 

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” Jin chimes in. “He looks so small.” 

The glares Jimin shoots everyone in the room are terrifying. You think about something you’d heard someone say: the shorter the person, the closer to hell they are. Something dramatic that only a tall person would say. 

“All the characters are the same size,” he exclaims. “And I don’t do that!” 

“Yes, you do. There are fanmade compilation videos of you spinning around, Jimin-ssi! I’ve watched them,” Jungkook confesses with full confidence. 

A small squeal sounds from the opposite side of the room. You turn to see Hobi practically bouncing on the couch. 

“Please, can we watch some? I want to hear the cute sound effects.” 

A pillow flies across the room, and Hobi just barely dodges it. Jimin crosses his arms firmly against his chest and scowls as Jin and Jungkook enthusiastically agree and Hobi snatches the TV remote before anyone else can. 

“At least watch a video that isn’t about me doing something embarrassing,” Jimin breaks down enough to plead (not beg!) with Hobi. He eyes the room and his gaze falls on Taehyung. A small smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth and you feel Taehyung slowly exhale. “We should watch one about TaeTae.” 

You try to cover your laughter with a cough, but Taehyung applies a light slap to your thigh in retaliation. 

“Why me?” he pouts. 

“Yes! Let me pick!”

“Jungkookie, no. It was my idea.” Hobi scrolls through his phone until his face lights up with glee. “I’ve watched this one before and it’s so cute, Y/N, you’re going to love it.” 

“The suspense is killing me.” You wiggle your eyebrows at Taehyung. The rolled eyes you’re met with feel like a victory. 

“Okay, it’s called, BTS struggling to understand ‘Tae-tae language’,” Hobi prefaces while the video loads on the TV. 

Jin laughs at the loud snort you let out. “TaeTae language is hard to understand.” 

“Maybe you guys aren’t creative enough to understand me,” Taehyung scoffs. 

“Hey! I understand you!” Yoongi protests from the kitchen. 

Taehyung looks like he might say more, but the video interrupts him. It starts with highlights from the comments section of previous videos. One comment mentions Namjoon being their bias. 

“Is that weird? Like, to watch this kind of stuff and hear people talk about their biases?” If you were famous, you were absolutely positive that you’d never Google yourself. You would not want to know what kind of weird shit was out there about you, even something as seemingly innocent as silly compilation videos. 

“I think it’s funny,” Jimin says with a smirk and half-moon eyes. “I’m everyone’s bias, anyway.” 

“That’s not what TikTok says.” Jungkook turns his nose upward at Jimin, though his eyes never leave his phone. It’s a shame In The Seom didn’t allow him to drown Jimin in the ocean, or he totally would have done it by now. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Just check how many videos there are under my hashtag.” 

Jimin snorts with a roll of his eyes, seemingly dismissing Jungkook’s claims. But you see him twist on the couch so the younger man can’t see that Jimin pulls up TikTok on his phone. As if TikTok was the end all, be all. You want to tell them it’s impossible to know who’s the most “popular” or whatever, but you know that conversation is futile. 

“Y/N, you were Army before you started dating Tae!” You can practically see the light bulb going off in Hobi’s brain. Or, rather, the Army bomb. “Who was your bias?” 

Hobi’s question barely leaves his lips when the room grows quiet. Seven pairs of eyes stare at you expectantly, including your boyfriend’s. You keep your eyes on the TV, though you aren’t seeing the compilation video playing anymore. 

“I don’t know. I didn’t have a bias. Y’know, OT7 and all that shit.” 

Suddenly, the room erupts. Screeches of protests and arguments are shouted across the living room, the boys yelling on top of one another and slewing insults at each other. 

“Oh come on, Y/N, tell us!” Hobi whines.

“Yeah, we wanna know! We won’t judge you.” Pulling this precious information out of you is so vital that Jungkook looks away from his phone long enough to give you a pouty face. 

“It’s obviously me. I’m Worldwide Handsome.” 

“Leave her alone, guys.” Taehyung shifts in his seat and adjusts how your legs drape over his lap. His large hands massage soft circles into your calf muscles. “This is so childish.” 

“Right. A bias is just whoever a fan is partial to,” Namjoon says with a shrug. “What matters is that fans support us as seven.” 

“No, a bias is the one the fan wants to fuck the most.” This time Jungkook doesn’t look up from his phone when he speaks. 

Jin hums in agreement, winking in your direction and making Taehyung scowl. 

“You’re just scared it’s not you, Tae.” For someone Taehyung calls his soulmate, Jimin seems to jump at every opportunity to fuck with his friend. He turns to you with those haunting siren eyes that lure in even God’s strongest soldiers. “Is he, Y/N? Is your bias Taehyung or someone else?” 

“I thought Hobi’s question was, who was my bias? Not is.” 

His siren eyes narrow at you. “Stop arguing semantics and answer the question.” 

You can’t hold a staring contest with the now-paused Youtube video, and Jimin’s sudden snappiness makes you feel the need to look away. Right into the eyes of your answer, the only person who hasn’t spoken during the entire bias conversation. 

Yoongi’s sharp eyes catch yours when you look away from the TV. Never one to miss a beat, he raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow at you, the ghost of his classic Yoongi smirk barely lifting the corner of his mouth before the entire room erupts into shouting again. 

“YOONGI?! REALLY?! OUT OF ALL OF US, YOU PICKED HIM?” Jimin jumps up from the couch, knocking pillows all over the floor. 

“Watch it, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi scolds the younger man for his informal language. Jimin only rolls his eyes. 

“Damn, Jimin was right. You aren’t her bias, TaeTae.” Jin shakes his head with a solemn look. He gets up to leave the room, giving your boyfriend a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he walks past. “I’m going to my room to play Mario Kart. This is too depressing for me.” 

At the mention of video games, Jungkook perks up. “Wait Jin hyungie, I wanna play, too!” He tosses the last couch pillow in Jimin’s lap and scrambles to catch up with Jin halfway down the hall. 

Yoongi wears a full-blown smirk now. You watch with wide eyes as his tongue slips out to drag across his bottom lip before he’s drawing his lip between his teeth. “Cute.” 

“Fuck off,” Taehyung hisses at the older man, lifting your legs off his lap. 

“Tae…” You reach out to grab his arm to stop him, but he’s already heading to his bedroom. The door slams shut so hard that the photos on the walls shudder. 

You turn back around to glare at the remaining men. “Did you have your fun, hmm? Was it worth it?” 

“I really… I didn’t think…” Hobi fumbles his words, clearly uncomfortable with the outbursts he’d unwittingly caused. 

“If it doesn’t work out with Taehyung, call me, yeah?” Yoongi sends you a wink, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. 

You feel your face heat up and you refuse to look at him. You wait until he goes back to preparing the food before you stand up. Without another word, you follow in Taehyung’s footsteps until you reach his door. It’s locked, but you expected as much. 

“TaeTae,” you call softly. “Please let me in.” 

You wait in silence long enough that you consider going home. If Taehyung doesn’t want to talk to you, you aren’t going to push him. Even if you think the reason for his outburst is stupid and that he’s acting like a child. 

Eventually, the door is opened wide enough for you to slip inside. Taehyung doesn’t look at you when he shuts the door. Instead, he sits on his bed and leans his back against the wall. He keeps his eyes on his hands delicately folded together in his lap. His eyes are already red and slightly puffy. The sight is glass in your veins. 

“Tae, please don’t be upset,” you start slowly. Climbing into his bed, you scoot until you’re lounging next to him. He doesn’t pull away when you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“It’s embarrassing.” 

You let out a small sigh, not because you’re frustrated with him but because you’d known watching fanmade videos would turn out to be a bad idea. 

“If it makes you feel better, you were still in my bias line.” It’s probably not the best way to reassure your boyfriend, but it at least makes him look at you. 

“Who else?” His eyes are narrowed.

“I don’t think I should answer that.” 

Taehyung’s bottom lip droops and you feel your heart seize. 

“Okay, okay!” Maybe holding his hand will make it better. “Jimin, but, no don’t give me that look! Just listen.” 

Taehyung’s pout deepens, but he doesn’t interrupt you. 

“It’s not like when I hang out with Jimin or Yoongi I’m thinking about those things, okay? It’s just a natural thing that happens. Anyone can be drawn to specific people in a group; the same thing happens with friendships. Like you and Jimin. It’s normal.” 

Taehyung doesn’t seem convinced, but he laces his fingers through yours. You interpret the light squeeze he gives you as permission to continue talking. 

“Yoongi is cool because I always saw him as this, like, mental health icon for me. He talks so much about mental health and fans see how he has grown and gotten healthier over the years. It’s inspiring, right? You’ve seen it firsthand.”

“That’s true,” Taehyung sniffles. 

You nod your head. “Exactly, I respect him as a person and an artist. And with Jimin, I’ve always been almost jealous? of him. Because he can so beautifully balance both masculine and feminine qualities and aesthetics. He looks good no matter what and has learned to accept himself instead of forcing whatever weird masculinity shit y’all had when you debuted. That’s inspiring, too.” 

Taehyung is silent for a while. You give him the space to process what you’ve said, and you hope that it’s enough to make him understand that a bias is not just about who you want to fuck. Jungkook is such a flirt; of course, that’s how he would interpret things. 

“Why did you like me?” He finally looks at you. His eyes are a little pink from his tears, but his cheeks appear dry. The innocent curiosity in his expression tugs at your heart. 

You reach up to run your fingers through his fluffy hair, combing out any tangles and gently massaging his scalp. This is probably how Taehyung feels when you worry about fans, paparazzi, and sasaengs. 

“Well, you’re hot,” you say with a grin. You feel a bit lighter when Taehyung’s mouth curves slightly, too. 

“Is that it?” 

“Of course not.” You stick your tongue out. “You were my favorite in the vocal line. I loved how smooth your singing voice is, and how thoughtful you sound when you talk about how important the members and Army are to you. How could someone not love the inventor of I purple you?” 

It feels weird to talk about how you liked Taehyung before you knew who he was. You never made your status as a fan obvious in the beginning. Professionalism is more important than fangirling. Even now, you only casually discuss your interest in the group before meeting them.

“Your sense of fashion made me laugh. You always seemed so happy, even though people like to focus a lot on how mean you can look. And I thought your relationships with Yoongi and Jimin were cute. You’re a great example of how men can and should be soft and loving.” 

They’re all highly-simplified explanations for why Taehyung caught your eye in a group of seven, but they seem to put him at ease. He slides into the bed so he’s lying on his back under the covers. With his eyes locked on yours, he pats his chest. 

“C’mere.” 

You lie down under the covers next to him. It feels nice to rest your head on his chest and throw your leg over his waist. Ever since Taehyung came back from the tour, you’ve wanted to be attached at the hip. It’s not that you can’t handle being alone, but you don’t think it’s a bad thing to want to be with the people who bring you joy— especially when you live in a new country. 

“You know I’m in love with you, not Yoongi or Jimin.” 

“I know.” 

“Do you actually?” You shift your head so you can look up at him. 

Taehyung meets you halfway. You let your eyes close as he slots his lips with yours, allowing your body to melt into his. The desperation the two of you had for each other when Taehyung first returned to Seoul eventually died out. Now, you’re okay with taking things slow. You can savor the feeling of his body on yours, firm and warm beneath you. You can savor the smell of his cologne and his taste as you breathe him in and slip your tongue inside his mouth. 

“I do,” he responds with a heavy exhale once you pull away. “I’m sorry I got upset. I just got so angry when hyung…” Taehyung scrunches his eyebrows and his nose scrunches along with them. 

You massage his forehead and try to forcefully smooth the wrinkles there. “Yoongi is just being an ass. He loves you, too,” you point out. 

Taehyung can’t argue that, so he leans down to kiss you again. You know how important physical contact is to him, especially when he’s upset. With that in mind, you slip your hands beneath his t-shirt. Splaying your hands flat against his chest feels nice. It’s a reminder that he’s real, and he’s here. He’s safe and healthy and yours. 

“We both get pretty jealous, huh?” 

Taehyung gives you a sheepish smile, all cheeks and pretty lips. You love his little lip freckle, but your favorite will always be the one under his eye. 

“Not as bad as Jungkook, though.” 

“Mhm, please don’t break up with me over a perilla leaf or anything.” 

Taehyung giggles and you feel like you’ve got helium inside you. If you don’t hold onto him tightly enough, you might float away with how light and carefree being with him makes you. 

“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” he says as he nibbles your earlobe. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

His hands find the hem of your t-shirt, and you sit up to allow him to undress you. It’s a delicate process because Taehyung wants to take his time, too. It might seem like the two of you use sex to solve your problems, but you never see it like that. For you, letting Taehyung take his time breaking you down, just to build you back up again, is an act of emotional intimacy, just as it is physical. When Taehyung gets comfortable between your thighs, dark eyes locked with yours as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the hold he has on your wrists grounds you. And when he hovers over you with your legs wrapped around his hips as he thrusts into you, you whisper gentle praises against his throat to remind him that you are his and he is yours.

You spend the rest of the afternoon in Taehyung’s bed. It feels good to snuggle with him while he talks to you about all the jazz clubs he forced Jimin to go to during the little free time they had on tour. It seems the tension in the house fades because the rest of the boys are loud and energetic; it’s impossible to tune them out when their laughter bleeds into the room despite the door being closed. 

“Do you think Taehyung and Y/N are done having make-up sex?” 

“It’s pretty quiet in there. Maybe they fell asleep.” 

You groan and bury your face in Taehyung’s side. It’s almost as if Jungkook and Jin are purposefully talking outside of his bedroom to make sure you can hear them. Knowing them, it’s not a far-fetched idea. 

“Probably tired themselves out. The screaming was really—” 

“JUNGKOOK!” Taehyung sits up so abruptly that you fall back onto the bed. “SHUT THE FUCK UP.” 

Jin and Jungkook’s laughter eventually fades down the hallway, but Taehyung gets out of bed anyway. 

“Yoongi is probably almost done with dinner,” he grumbles. You watch him zip up his jeans and admire how tall and lanky he is. Sorry to Yoongi and Jimin. 

He manages to get his arms caught in his t-shirt somehow, so you begrudgingly get out of bed to help. You tease him endlessly because obviously fucking you is so good that he doesn’t know how to use his limbs anymore. 

Your teasing is nothing compared to the way the other boys drag you the moment you step out of Taehyung’s bedroom. 

“You okay, Y/N? Sounded like you might be dying,” Jimin grins as he prepares the kitchen table for dinner. 

Jin snickers, throwing out his own commentary. “Taehyung, you got it pretty good even though you aren’t her bias, huh.” 

Before Taehyung has a chance to bite anyone’s head off, you chime in. 

“Yeah, yeah, Yoongi was my bias when I was a fan,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You can practically see Jungkook registering that you said “was a fan”, and that makes him pout. As if you aren’t still a fan. What a baby, just like Taehyung. 

Yoongi snorts as he retrieves a dish from the oven. “I cannot fathom why.” 

“Me either,” Jimin agrees with a giggle. He’s completely unfazed by the dark look Yoongi shoots him. 

You join in on Jimin’s laughter, and you’re pleased to see that Taehyung is smiling too. The whole thing is so ridiculous. Maybe you’re feeling a bit too comfortable because you start oversharing. 

“And I was a Yoonmin shipper, I’m not gonna lie.” You’re laughing so hard that you don’t realize neither Jimin nor Taehyung are laughing anymore. After a few seconds pass, though, your smile slowly falls. Jimin’s face has turned bright pink and Yoongi has his back to the table. 

“It was one time, okay?” Jimin’s eyes burn holes into Yoongi’s shoulder blades from across the room. “Okay, two times.” 

The older man doesn’t comment. 

You nudge Taehyung’s leg with your foot under the kitchen table. He presses his lips together as hard as he can, but the smile just gets pushed into his cheeks. A rush of air explodes from his lips in a loud raspberry, and that’s what triggers your laughter again. 

“Oh my god, I really wish I was surprised but I’m not,” you confess with a wheeze. 

You’ve clearly touched on a sensitive topic. Jimin blabbers away about how it’s not that big of a deal, all while Yoongi silently finishes arranging the dishes on the table. It would feel uncomfortable, but Jimin’s flushed face and the tiniest of smiles curving Yoongi’s lips make you think it meant a lot more than what Jimin wishes to admit. 

And that’s really fucking cute. 

As the rest of the boys come piling into the kitchen, Taehyung scoots his chair until yours are touching. You bump shoulders and tilt your face up so he can press a kiss against your jaw. 

“I love you,” he whispers. “With all my heart." 

“I love you, too.” You lace your fingers with his and let your hands rest against his thigh. “You dork.” 

The kitchen is chaos, but all you can focus on is the boxy smile Taehyung gifts you.

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do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

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[hollowed-theory-hall]

Secrets of the Darkest Art: How to Make a Horcrux

So I saw many theories regarding how to make a Horcrux, but none of them really made perfect sense to me, so I decided to give it a crack myself as part of my mission to understand Lord Voldemort/Tom Marvolo Riddle (Which I think I did, big post coming about that at some point, this is but another piece of that puzzle of a man)

So this is my reverse engineering of a ritual to create Horcruxes based on book evidence, my knowledge of real-world alchemy, real-world ancient Greek cults and rituals and linguistic analysis.

How to reverse engineering a dark magical ritual:

The first thing, is to define what we knew fore certain:

The name: "Horcrux"

The creator is an Ancient Greek wizard named Harpo the Foul.

A death is required in the making.

A Horcrux holds a piece of the casters soul that anchors them to life so they won't die.

I'll actually start with the third point.

How to split a soul?

Both Dumbledore and Slughorn mention a death being required to tear your soul to make a Horcrux, and that never really sat right with me. It magically doesn't make sense and even the canon examples we have for Horcrux murders make this statment iffy.

We have seven examples of murders used to create Horcruxs (thanks to one Tom Riddle being dramatic):

The Diary - Myrtle Warren - killed by a basilisk. Sure, Tom freed the Basilisk, but it hardly seemed targeted at Myrtle specifically and you can argue he didn't actually kill her (more a manslaughter by negligence). He didn't cast the spell, so how come this tore his soul?

The Ring - his father (Tom Riddle Sr) - Avada Kadevra.

The Cup - Hepzibah Smith - she was poisoned by her house elf. Sure, the elf was under the imperious, but it wasn't a first-degree murder, and like with the Basilisk I find it hard to consider this the same as casting a killing curse. Magically those are very different things.

The Locket - Muggle Tramp - Avada Kadevra

The Diadem - Albanian Peasant - Avada Kadevra

Harry Potter - himself - backfired Avada Kadevra

Nagini - Bertha Jorkins - Avada Kadevra

Now, I used the term "magically different" or "magically make sense" what do I mean by that?

Well, besides the fact I'm going to make a full post about how I see magical theory in the Harry Potter Wizarding World, I'll say it takes a lot after occult philosophies from Alchemy that are very old, Slughorn mentions as much in book 6 and there are a few other references to it. I'm just gonna cover the basics required for this theory.

In Alchemy, everything (people, animals, plants and rocks) are built of three base components:

The Salt - the body - the physical form.

The Sulfur - the soul - the self that holds the divine flame.

The Murcury - the spirit - the life essence that binds the salt and sulfer together.

Now, in Alchemy, the main study is in purifying and combining these different aspects of material. Let's look at a herb, for an example:

If we want to retrieve its salt, we'll dry the herb completely using fire to leave behind a fine light grey ash that represents only the physical form.

If we wanted its mercury we'd distill all liquids from it until we get a purified, clear liquid which in the case of plants would be alcohol (it's why alcohol is referred to as "spirit").

And if we wanted its soul, we would take the remains from the distillation and drying process which would be a kind of oil.

(it can get more complicated with different materials, but this isn't a post about Alchemy)

Now, back to Horcruxs.

So, if we would want to split a soul, Alchemecly, how do we go about it?

Well, we don't. Not really. See a soul can't really be split, as every part of it, every bit of that oil from our random herb represents the entire soul. It's why something like a Horcrux could theoretically work in giving a full life to the diary the way we see in Chamber of Secrets.

Additionally, to work with any material in Alchemy, you are required to purify it first. It means that to get a piece of soul to bind to a diary, you need a pure soul.

Killing someone else won't sever your own soul from the spirit and the body, it's not how this works. Killing someone severs their spirit and therefore splits their body, spirit, and soul. Besides, an Ancient Greek man, like Herpo was, would hardly consider murder as vile as we do today. It wouldn't even cross his mind that any murder (even an indirect one) could harm one's own soul.

No, the only way to "split" a soul is to first sever it from life, disconnecting the bond between soul and body. Essentially, the only way to promise you immortality is to kill yourself.

I know it sounds a little confusing, but, essentially, once the soul is severed from the spirit and body you can split it. Think of the herbal oil, once you have the oil, separate from the rest of the plant parts, you can combine it with new ingredients. You can only work on a specific aspect once you severed it from the other two and as what binds all three together is spirit — life — the only way to do it for a human soul — is death.

But really, how?

Well, here comes the second thing we know about making Horcruxs — that dear Herpo was Ancient Greek.

In Ancient Greece they had multiple different religious cults, some of which were Chthonic cults. Cults that dedicated themselves to death or ditties and heroes associated with death and more importantly — rebirth.

Many of these cults were dedicated to figures like Orpheous, Dyonysus, Persephone, characters in mythology who are known for going through the underworld — through death — and coming back out. These cults were very secretive and not much is known about their practices, but some is.

What is known is that they had rituals were they reenacted a death and then rebirth (usually drinking wine — a water if life, was the representation of rebirth).

This created a very clear idea in my head — to split a soul, you'll have to ritualisticlly, magically kill yourself, severe a peice of your soul and then revive yourself with a water of life — a potion.

This potion is never mentioned, but I believe it exists due to these Chthonic cult rituals and how they were structured. Not only that, but the Greek underworld did have a river known for being incredibly painful to drink, literally made of fire, but being able to bring the dead back - The Phlegethon River.

Note: Lethe River Water (the river in the Greek Underworld that makes the drinker forget) is a canon ingredient in a Forgetfulness Potion.

So what is the dead body for?

Well, congratulations, you killed yourself to retrieve a sliver of your soul and revived yourself so you won't stay dead. You found an item you can keep secure to tie that sliver of soul, too. Now, how would you bind then? After all, the only thing meant to bind a human soul to a body is a human spirit - a human life... you get where I'm going with this.

This is why Tom didn't have to be the one to do the deed. As long as he had a recently deceased corpse to harvest the life from to use to bind his newly split soul and the item of his choice.

It explains why nothing was missing from the bodies. Myrtle and the Riddles were investigated by the Ministry of Magic. One would assume the aurors would've noticed if any corpse was missing a hand due to the killer eating it (as other Horcrux theories suggest).

Not only was nothing missing from the body, the soul was intact. Myrtle became a ghost after death, a ghost is quite literally, just the soul, no body, no spirit.

So the only thing that was taken from Tom's victims was their life, quite literally at that.

Is that all? Can we make a Horcrux now?

Not really. See, when analyzing spells in Harry Potter is their name.

Avada Kadevra - is a reference to an Aramaic healing spell "Abracadabra" pronounced in Aramaic as: "Avra Kadebra" and meaning "I will create as commanded". Merged with the Latin word "cadaver" meaning "corpse" to create -> "I will create dead bodies as commanded"

Or Wingardium Laviosa - is a cross of the English word "wing", the Latin word "arduus" (meaning "high, tall, lofty, steep, proudly elevated"), or "arduum" (meaning "steep place, the steep" and the Latin word "levo" (meaning to "raise, lift up"). So together the spell means -> "lift high up".

So, it's pretty clear spells, their names and incantations are very self-explanatory. So a Horcrux should be no different.

I've seen some attempts at translating the name Horcrux. Unfortunately, these attempts treated the name as Latin, modern Greek, or Old English. Herpo, was Ancient Greek, though, so I went and translated a few possible meanings from Ancient Greek (Classical Greek and Homeric Greek are what I looked at):

ὅρκος (orkus, pronounced "hor-kus") - an oath, the object by which one swears, bound by oath (still used in modern Greek).

κρόκες (crukes, pronounced "cru-kes") - saffron-colored (blood red in Greek), crocus flower. The crocus flower symbolizes both death (the saffron that is the spice) and rebirth (the golden crocus which brings renewal and joy) because Demeter wears them when Persephone returns from the underworld in myth.

So what we have is a spell called "binding oath of death and rebirth" which all around sounds fitting.

There might also be a "made in blood" tucked at the end due to the association of κρόκες with the color of blood.

But what does it matter?

Well, somewhat. As now with this name, I expect the binding between the spirit from the victim, the split soul, and the item would be done in a sort of oath - an orkus.

The association with blood gives us another hint. Blood is the part of the human body most representative of life. Therefore, in Alchemy, your blood is your spirit. So it'll make sense that your own blood would be used in the binding process or more correctly in the process of turning another person's spirit into your own. Making the thread to bind the body (item) and the soul piece your own. As it also refers to just a red firey color, it can indicate the Phlagatton potion I hypothesize should be part of the ritual due to how Chthonic rituals usually went, as the Phlagaton river is made of fire.

So we have a general idea on how to make a Horcrux. You need an item of your choice to bind your soul to. You need a life (spirit) harvested from a human that you transformed into being your own using your blood. And you need a piece of your own soul, which you get by killing yourself and then reviving yourself. And you finish it off by binding it all together with an oath.

But how could you make one accidentally?

So, everyone knows Voldemort succeeded in somehow making a Horcrux accidentally, something a lot of theories I saw don't account for. Becouse whatever process you need to go to to make a Horcrux, Voldemort went through all of it the night he died the first time and marked Harry.

All the steps for my method of making a Horcrux were met that night.

The item in qustion is baby Harry, nothing interesting there.

The soul sliver was split the way it always is — through death. Voldemort dies, killed by his own killing curse and that is what splits his soul.

The life or spirit that then binds his soul to Harry isn't Lily's spirit or James'; it's his own spirit that acts as a binder between Harry and Voldemort’s split soul. Because the spirit was already his, there was no need to transform it by blood.

Step-by-step guide to making Horcruxes:

I'm not going to actually give the full step-by-step least a budging dark lord is looking for this information. I do have notes about exact incantations and even the full recipe and instructions for the Phlagaton potion I'm going to mention. These instructions won't be here since they are more in the realm of speculation and headcanon. This is just the overview of the ritual based on canon information and the occult philosophy I mentioned above.

Step 1 - Life and Blood

Get access to a recently deceased human and extract their Mercury (Spirit or Life Essence).

Submerge the retrieved life essence with your own blood on a new moon (life and vitality). (7 drops of blood will probably do)

Step 2 - Water of Fire

To complete the cycle of death and rebirth you’ll need the Phlegeton Water potion to return you to life at the end of the cycle.

As you brew the potion, it must be brewed in a dark room, preferably underground to remind as much of the underworld as possible.

While brewing the potion one must be in the mindset of the Phlegeton, must be willing to go through agony to achieve eternal life and imbue these thoughts in their potion. (In alchemy, when working, it is believed you imbue your work with your thoughts during the Alchemical process. As an Alchemical process affects both the material being worked and the Alchemist themselves)

Likley Ingrediants:

Saffron spice

Golden crocus flower juice

Pomegranate juice

Step 3 - The Ritual Preparation

Set up your space so none of the components may escape the ritual space and so the ritual will not be interfered with.

Make sure the spirit you retrieved is within reach.

Make sure the item you desire will hold the Horcrux will be within reach as well.

Coax the spirit into the item and prepare it to tie your soul to the next step.

Step 4 - Death and Rebirth

To create a thread of your soul to tie to the ritual, you must die figuratively. Go through death to return stronger from the underworld.

Once you feel like death has reached you and your soul is separated you should heal your soul and finish the cycle, bringing you out of death and back to life by drinking the Phlegeton potion.

After the pain subsides you will feel healthier than before, stronger than before, and you’ll have an additional thread of sulfur (soul) in your chest to be pulled out and placed into the Horcrux.

The split-off soul should, on its own, try to search for life and a body to be bound to. If it doesn't, coax it out yourself and bind it to the Horcrux with the spirit you made in step 1.

Step 5 - Oath of Life

The connection between the body (the item), soul, and spirit is still unstable, if most likely strong enough to hold.

Swear the oath of life to finalise the bound between you, the Horcrux, and the soul thread together to ward off death.

I'll end with this note I made regarding Horcruxes when I started working on this theory:

I don't know what all goes into the process of making a Horcrux but I don't believe a person who truly likes themselves and doesn't want to inflict pain on themselves could make a Horcrux. Tearing up your soul is an act of arrogance above nature, sure, thinking you deserve to change the laws of the world and be the exception is part of it, but it's also an act of self-hatred. You need to hate yourself enough to be willing to kill yourself, hurt yourself, and tear yourself up in the most unnatural ways — hence why so few can do so, let alone more than once.

And Tom Riddle does seem to have that exact mix of arrogance, spite, and low self-esteem that would allow it.

[tremendum]

landmines

 pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl once)   rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)     word count: 6.2k summary: (straight lines, they unwind you she does a little thing with her eye that says “we’re off soon,” she says the bleeding’s incidental ‘cause she’s so cool she said “I’m no fun if I’ve only a bottle of wine” and now she’s doing it all the time )  or. “he saw how your hands shook when you exchanged rations for those damn pills. hell, at one time in his life he'd felt his own hands shake in the same way. so Joel doesn't get to be all high and mighty with you, after all.”  warnings: Pre-TLOU, set in Boston, canon-typical violence, age gap (mentioned & undefined), joel and reader are in love but joel can’t deal with his emotions, mentions of drugs use (painkillers), drinking, brief and minor allusions to religion, angst, alcohol/drug abuse, this is about reader and joel's drug addictions, and about reader's struggle with going clean (PLS DO NOT READ THIS IF IT IS HARMFUL TO YOU. keep yourself safe <3),  love confessions, brief mentions of withdrawal symptoms (reader gets a nose bleed), brief mentions of smut (unprotected PiV, creampie, multiple orgasms, soft its kinda vanilla tbh), fluff.  notes: this just came to me while listening to Milk by the 1975. heavily based off of the lyrics of that song and just something I needed to get out of my system. also written in both Joel and reader’s POV, but tbh it’s mostly Joel’s 

recent joel fics: fever Mr. Miller

★  

there was something so conspicuous about the lines you created with your fingers. 

soft music crackles odd over the weak signal in the corner of the room. a breeze chills your bare skin over your head as the swell of the concerto sends shivers over the blades of your shoulders, smoothing over your form as you hunch at the table. 

you need this. 

stray swipes of plastic - marred around the edges from rough use down with FEDRA or from wear-and-tear of jobs in your life; it's the flimsy, pathetic evidence of your existence within this QZ, within this society, within life. you are here. 

your own identification name and photograph stare up at you with a bright smile as you scrape strict lines out with your hands.

currently, you are here, but soon, you'll be a little less than that. 

the powder slips through a crack in your nail and you wince, groaning at the smidgeon loss that quite literally slipped through your fingers. but sooner than you'd expect, your irritation is eased with the sight of the jar to your right, nearly empty of its bloody red contents. you smile gently - you're almost out. maybe Joel will come to your rescue soon with more refills; you'd traded enough items as of late to be rewarded with something as delicious as his presence. 

slipping up towards the cabinet, you remove your glass from its resting place and set it on the table, completing your sweet altar of peace before you. 

the glass you pour the crimson into is smudged but still cherished; its place in the cupboard always rimmed with the absence of dust from daily use despite the scarcity of the product itself. you work hard for these small rewards. 

but the thud of your door busting open looses your focus and you can't help the yelp that you let out, head turning on a quick swivel towards the entrance, gauging the severity of the intrusion. 

the startled movement of your hand sends the glass tumbling over, acetous red seeping over the grains of wood under you and you grunt in irritation, sighing towards the intruder who's now cost you that very last half a glass of wine. 

your door swings on weak hinges as the broad shoulders that you'd know anywhere stumble into your small studio, seemingly overestimating the power with which he'd need to throttle the frame open. there's a denim shirt that stretches over the arms and chest of the intruder, the top buttons undone and revealing golden skin kissed with the sweat of the day's work. 

you sigh as Joel Miller's sharp gaze hits you. 

"you made me spill." you whine. both of you recognize the adoration that laces your words, straining them of any hostility that might flood through you had it been anyone else to startle you. 

a moment of peace as he shuts the door and lumbers into your space, face laced with a sort of exhaustion and irritation that you've grown used to. a hand wipes over the facial hair of his mustache, jaw set with unvoiced exasperation as he stalks forward. "you should really be lockin' that thing, you know." he grunts, face ridden with the displeasure of his easy entry. 

you sigh, knowing he's right, "but I knew it'd be you that's coming round, Joel. why lock it for you?" 

it's a fair statement, because if anybody in this life were to make you safe, it's him. but he clearly doesn't accept that as he rolls his eyes; sometimes, you wonder if he sees you as a nuisance. 

the drawl of his slow accent leaks through his words as he stares at your little altarpiece in front of you, the way your your chest is wet with the spilt wine, your face flustered in your embarrassment. "y'can't always be expectin’ me." he mutters and the words should feel bitter to your ears, but there's a ring of falsehoods that lie within each syllable and it just makes you smile. 

you just press your tongue to your teeth; "right. I’ll keep my axe by the door." you say, hoping that’ll soothe him. 

you don't want to press it with him today, because it seems he's in an odd mood anyways, his eyes trained on your small little art project in front of you. so instead, you stand to rid yourself of the red that stains through your shirt. 

"y'got that thing workin' I see." he states, jutting his jaw to the side towards the radio that crackles with the classical music gently in the evening air. streaks of bright orange paint his silhouette from where he props himself, the dying light of another boring Thursday being swallowed by the sweet nighttime air. 

you nod, clearing your throat, "y-yeah, um, I fixed it up this morning before heading down to sweep." you explain, fingers keeping the wine-stained cloth away from your skin. you'd seen him earlier today already - he was working down in the other quadrant this week, but he showed up to see Tess and you while you worked sweeps. he had to discuss business with Tess, leaving you sticking out like a sore thumb when their hushed conversation turned their backs from you. it'd taken a turn recently, since the last mistake you made on a run with Tess. you'd almost died and Tess was nearly there with you, saved by the skins of your knees and a shot through a clicker's head. 

Joel didn't really like that all too much, and ever since then you'd been kept on the sidelines. only repairs for inside the QZ, now; Joel and Tess would get the parts you needed from elsewhere for you. 

"what are you doing here, Joel?" you ask, though at this point it seems futile to ask him something so obvious- just as expected, he ignores your imploring question. instead, his hand sweeps over your table in a confused motion, gesturing pointedly to just where your guilt falls into three tidy, straight white lines of powder. 

you bite your lip. 

"c'mon," he mutters, shaking his head as your name falls from his curled lip. "what are you doin' with all this? it's more than a week's work." 

you send him a heated gaze; a week of your work, not his. you tell him just as much, in a way. 

"it's not a big deal," you defend, crossing your arms; as if that'd protect you from the truth that you almost caved in again after several days of going through the motions, starved of the high that you so craved. (you are here.) your eyes are torn from the floorboards as Joel huffs in irritation, this arms bulging as they cross along his chest. 

his eyes flicker over your form in a hawkish gaze, his nostrils flaring in anger, "get yourself cleaned up." he snaps. 

it's an order, and you're smart enough to listen. 

alone in your room, Joel recognizes the piece that plays over the radio, the kind of music you could have heard at a ballet way back before all the shit. some piano piece by some guy- Satie, he thinks you've told him before- something way before your time, before his time, even. he's sweeping the sweet lines you'd created into a baggie and pocketing them while you're gone wringing your loose top in the bathroom bitterly. he knows you’ll be upset with him, but it’s for the better. 

you stare bitterly at your shirt; the red rings down the drain in a vague pink trickle. 

it's quiet in the small apartment but not in an absent kind of way. it's a more tired, angry quiet. the kind that Joel carries with him everywhere in town; the kind of quiet peace that has befallen your life ever since earning your name tangled in with his and Tess's those months ago. 

it's not that life in Boston is peaceful. nothing is, anymore. 

 but the things that Joel and Tess do for you, for whatever reason - be it the parts you can fix or the items you've found easy to smuggle for your bosses; or even just your personality, your ability to survive and still flourish despite all the rot of the world - it's nice. and they trust you.

you like Tess, you trust her. she's kind of like an older sister to you, in some ways. the world's birthed out a new kind of life for the people like you, who were too young to remember the before of it all, and maybe Tess sees in you a sister to protect, to survive with. 

Joel, though... your head peaks around the corner of the bathroom before you slink back out, almost as if you have a tail tucked between your legs, face burning with something between anger and shame. Joel. 

Joel is someone vastly, deeply embedded into you. it's something that you never expected, but meeting him only a month after you met Tess, after you survived the trek from Springfield QZ to Boston, there was something within him that just clicked with the two of you. 

and he’d seen how your hands shook when you exchanged rations for those damn pills. hell, at one time in his life he'd felt his own hands shake in the same way. 

so Joel doesn't get to be all high and mighty with you, after all. 

even he knows that. 

when you round the corner, shirt wet and stuck to the soft skin underneath, his heart flutters slightly in his cold chest. he didn't want to pick a fight with you; he was fucking tired. and with you and him, it was always the same: he'd overreact about your safety, or your using, and you'd yell at him that he isn't in charge of you. then it'd get all- as he liked to call it - thick, muggy with the words that he cannot, will not say and the words you yearn to whisper. 

you never do, though. so it ends with anger until it's somehow resolved and he sees you the next day on the street.

one time, you'd gotten into such a heated argument that you did not speak to him for six days. he'd gotten angry at you for trying to smuggle something too big by yourself. you'd gone and gotten yourself beat nearly to a pulp by a bunch of assholes and Joel was beside himself with the gullibility, the naiveté of it all. and he'd been real fuckin' mean to you about it, enough to spring large tears of anger in your eyes and earn himself a smack across the face - a harsh one, at that, because you know well how to defend yourself. 

but then, you'd really shocked him. you'd told him he was weak because he can't love anything. 

he wasn't sure where that shit came from, and maybe it was coupled with the resurgence of emotions from his past - something he did not allow himself to think about - but it just made him more angry. 

it ended in an ugly roar of anger and unspoken feelings. he didn't see you for almost a week. 

Tess stopped by instead of him to trade for parts or pills, checking in on you with subtle questions that turned into blunt statements. you'd pass him on the way to a job in the mornings, eyes sharp as they saw right past him, jaw tilted with that spunky defiance he so admired in you. 

his heart had hurt the whole time, even when your birthday came round and you showed up meekly at his front door to ask if he'd get you some sugar and eggs (he realized as you spoke that you were planning to make yourself a birthday cake). instead, with a lot of huffing and ignoring those all-knowing looks from Tess, he'd baked you your own goddamn cake, showing at your door with the shameful attempt at the confection to effectively end your near-week-long standoff. 

you'd cried at his knees out of his thoughtfulness, as you'd called it. at his willingness to just pretend, for a minute, that everything was okay. he didn't know how to feel about that. 

he knows the anger that he feels towards you is synthetic; a covering that he throws on top of the storage unit full of things that scare him too much to uncover - age, safety, responsibility, affection, happiness, protection, pain, surviving.

but consequentially you bring it all out of him anyways and light the fire of anger more than anyone else, even those goddamned pricks who paint the insignias onto every street sign in the city. and he never knows how to just talk with you, even after all this time. 

you make him nervous like a damn schoolboy in the hallways seeing a pretty girl. 

this life is cruel in so many ways; unfortunately, happiness is one of the worst. way back before all of this shit happened, Joel would never have favored sadness, or pain, or hurt, nor sorrow. but the twisting, bitter truth is that he's no longer content with that same, dull pattern of emotions which swirl languidly in his chest that have just nested within him. life in Boston is just that - life. and for the last few decades, he's done what he needed to survive, and that's how it was. 

but now, he's got you. 

and that's not really anything he'd thought were in the cards for him, not after so many years alone. Tess was his partner, and he trusts her with his life. but you - you. his sweet girl, too much for this world yet not enough at all; with your music, that stubborn independence, light of laughter, and those straight lines; the ones that always seem to unwind you and never seem to stop. 

you told him once that you're not sure if Joel Miller was the type to love something. he's not sure either. 

when you're face-to-face with him again, the sheepish grin melts from your lips. the absence of the crushed pulls, your identification card, the rolled up scrap paper you'd made into a makeshift straw of sorts paints a bitter look on your face as you stare up at him. 

you know he took them intentionally, to help - so the warmth in your chest from the gesture of good faith tells you not to bark at him.

he's trying to do the good thing for a friend right now. it's the same thing you would do anytime you come over and Joel's halfway down a fresh bottle of that amber liquid he keeps on him at all times. you appreciate each other. 

so you just pour yourself a small glass calmly, aware of his eyes on you. "d'you want some, Miller?" you ask, back turned from him to fish out a glass. 

he lets out a chuckle, "no, darlin', wine ain't really my thing." it makes you grin, because yeah, you did know that. you know a lot about him. you shake your head, tilting it slightly as you settle yourself back into the chair you'd perched on before his company. 

"right." you smile at him, a glinting in your eyes as you shrug at him. god, that look. you're tempting him all the same, with your eyes or your smile or just you. 

"I took your shit." he admits, knowing there's no point in hiding it. he was a very blunt man, always has been. life's easier that way. 

you sigh, shaking your head, "I-" you stop yourself from griping at him for being a fucking babysitter, instead trying again. your eye drops down to him in a wry little wink, your mind static with the noise of his knuckles against the scruff of his jaw. "come on, Joel. you know I'm no fun if I only get a bit of wine." you try to joke, crossing your arms as the liquid breaches your lips, head itching for a bit of euphoria. "I just... I need some of that other shit every once in a while." you try to defend. “I’m getting better.” you convince yourself. 

something pops gently inside your sinuses, and as you sniff slightly, you feel the gush of movement. 

his eyes are hard as he stares you down, but he soon swears under his breath, turning to grab the rag that sits on your counter. your hands rise to your nose to cover as the blood starts to drip from your right nostril - fuck. 

you tilt forward slightly the moment you have the urge to lean back; when you'd first met and he learned about your habit, Joel'd shown you to reduce swelling and swallowing blood to lean between your legs. "I'm fine, Joel-" you start to argue as his grip finds your bicep, "shut up, now." he snaps, clearly upset. 

it hurts you to hurt him like this. 

licking your lips, your eyes fall onto his own, the movement of his jaw as his plush lips clench, brow furrowing in anger. if you could just- if you could be bold enough to just once surge up and taste him, maybe it'd all be different. 

maybe. 

"Joel, it's-" you break off, eyes flickering to the pocket you just know he shoved your pills into, roaming over the denim, "it's incidental. it's dry outside now, allergies and shit." 

he shakes his head in disbelief, growing tired of you skirting around the problem and not outright saying it. 

"you think you're fuckin' special, don't ya?" he grunts, storming over to shut your windows, leaving your body with a cold chill of reality. 

the rag he gave you comes away from your face bloody. no, you're not yet a corpse, but you still rot away. 

he sighs heavy, like he has to make a grave decision in the face of a troubling truth - had you really gotten to a point where this was an issue, or was Joel just protective? you're not sure, but it makes you feel shitty no matter. 

"y'know, it won't make anything better." he tries again through a soft, gruff sigh after a few moments. you barely let your eyes flicker to his. 

who is he, to say that to you? 

"is that supposed to be some kind of joke, Joel?" your words don't have sharpness, instead you're shrouded with that kind of disappointment he often finds in your eyes every time he can't say the things to you he wants. the things he's afraid of, the things he knows you're not afraid of. "don't you think I know that? you went through this yourself, you've told me that you know how fucking hard it is." you defend, knuckles white as you sip a bit of the wine.

he sighs; a deep, heavy sigh as his fingers pinch his frustrated brow. "I know-" he starts to explain himself, but you shake your head, tired. 

"don't say anything about it, Joel. I get it." you sigh, "it’s 'not the same', for whatever bullshit reason you can come up with this week." your words are harsh but they're not mad. 

you're not angry in the way maybe you should be towards the hypocrite that stands tall and sharp in front of you.

instead you stand, moving to let yourself fall onto the ratty couch that sits miserably in the corner of the room. you're fucking tired - your body aches from the exhaustion of the week's work, of fixing up all that shit for Tadeau who honestly cheated you out on the last payment. worse, though, you're tired of this push and pull with Joel; where he shows up to bring you what you need, stays and watches with commiseration as you try to feel something - sneaking sips of his own liquid gold until his cheeks are a pinkish red, matching the heat in yours.

but you're most tired with how, recently, it always ends with arguing instead of maybe just- being with each other. you're just tired of stepping over eggshells that may actually be landmines. 

landmines like I care about you too much and I just want you to feel something like what I feel for you, because you deserve it. 

"I'm just-" he cuts himself off with a resigned look. hardened. I'm just worried about you.

he doesn't sit on the couch. your wine is forgotten on the table now, because the most intoxicating thing in your life stands in front of you with his full, undivided attention just on the way you curl up on the ripped sofa.

the sun is setting now and if Joel doesn't leave soon, curfew will pass. you hate it when he stays over, sleeps on the sofa; your bed always feels huge and guilty beneath your body when you can hear him toss and turn all night, air tense either with anger or with the desire to continue to exist within each other's company even after the exchange of good-nights. 

"how is this different from your thing?" you ask, the defense rising up like bile in your chest, swirling inklings of doubt and fear within your chest. 

perhaps it's because he's right. his fear is real; he's gone through this before, and as badly as you want to believe him you also just can't keep pretending he's just a really good friend. because it's Joel fucking Miller, and he doesn't have friends. 

you're tired of the fogginess of which you lately haven't been able to escape. and if Joel is afraid of something... then you know you should run from it like hell. 

he doesn’t respond to your attempt to make him, so you purse your lips, shame curling up your cheeks. you try again. 

"I have been trying to- to stop." you admit, fingers tangling into themselves. he heaves a deep sigh and makes the trek over to you, dropping onto the sofa next to you. his thigh brushes yours and the both of you tense, though you pretend you don't notice. you know he likes the touches - subtle as they are - because in a world like this, affection was a weakness but it was also an incredibly fierce strength. it was scary, but it felt right. 

he was always just like you, in that way. 

"I know you have." he resigns with a nod, eyes flickering over to yours with a gentleness that is only ever reserved for you these days.  “’s a good thing.” he acknowledges. 

you swallow the heavy lump of regret in your throat because you're done hiding all of this shit. "I'm sorry. I don't- I don't want to let you down." 

but there it is - the line that Joel had invisibly, wordlessly drawn in the sand of your blurry relationship. especially when the sun is almost gone, and it's not enough to know that you're not together just because words have never expressed it. 

any time you do this, toe this line he’s made, Joel has to close up from you. and you understand that. this is the line - where you admit something vulnerable, something you're both feeling, only for him to go completely the other way. because he’s scared. 

he shakes his head in almost disappointment. "you should be doin' this for yourself." he says sternly, jaw tightening as he moves away from you. push and pull. and he is right, you should do this for yourself.

and you are; every damn day you wake up, get dressed, go to get some work done for rations so that you can survive in this hell of a life because you really do love this life. the feeling of belonging somewhere, with him and with your friends and Tess. but it's hard to express that to him when it's like talking to a brick fucking wall every time you mention feelings.

you let out a choked sigh, tears rimming your eyes as you huff, "you're right. I am. I just- I don't really want to fight like this," you sigh, heart thundering with anxiety. "not tonight." 

he nods shortly, looking across the apartment to your trinkets that lie everywhere. he doesn't know how you do it - the apartment is full of them, just random shit you find around and treasure enough to keep. it brings life to something that shouldn't have it in the small, crumbling studio apartment that should take life out of people - but your place, it gives people life. it's a glimpse into how things should be, how they used to be. your items are a look back into a life that you never got to have; things that he'd see as trash. but truth be told: in your place, they're so you, and he supposes they're treasure to him anyways. "neither do I." he mutters, hand falling into his lap. 

you should probably remind him that curfew is soon. he knows it is, though, you know it'd be pointless to remind him; it's clear that this has become one of those many nights he'll spend on your lumpy couch. 

you say something else, instead. "I saw Jonah fall on his ass today while shoveling." 

he chuckles at that. shaking his head, he looks down at you, at the sunshine in your eyes despite the sun's dip below the crumbling remains of the city; you're smiling up at him, giggling to yourself at the sporadic noise of his amusement. you're amused because he's amused. you want him to smile. 

he wishes, fleetingly, that he could be like you, more alive, more full of love and life and - and happiness. naive as it may be. 

that was the kind of gift you brought for him each time you came to see him or he came to see you. somehow, you fill him with words he doesn't know how to express. and you never make him explain them, you just feel them. 

"he deserved it." Joel decides with a smirk, ignoring the monstrous green envy that licks at his lungs at the mention of that young pup that followed you around for months, nearly begging to have you. 

he remembers when you'd shot him down; much to Joel's shock, you'd said you weren't interested in him. you've said that about just near every damn person who has set their sights on you. 

you shake your head at him, smacking him lightly on the shoulder and leaving a buzzing warmth on his skin as you do, "stop it, Joel. you're awful." but you're still giggling, grinning nearly ear-to-ear. "he-he did, though." you agree, smiling down to your lap with a laugh. 

his face feels warm as you settle into the cushions, lulling your head to settle it onto his shoulder. the light weight of it blankets his heart in a warmth he swears he hasn't felt in decades. 

"never understood why people keep that boy around." Joel shakes his head, "he's a dud." 

you let out a soft laugh, staring up at Joel with disbelief, "c'mon, Joel." you tilt your head with a stare at him. he blinks back, jaw clenching as he leans back, wincing as he adjusts his back. 

you shake your head as you laugh yet again, "he's not a dud. he's actually quite resourceful for those assholes in the square. creepy, but smart enough." you shrug, pulling a stray seam from the couch beneath you. he sighs- you're too kind for your own good, sometimes. "he's just terrified of you." you add, lifting an accusatory brow. 

"don' know why." Joel chooses to mutter, and you send him a look yet again. Joel doesn't need you to remind him why that boy Jonah was so afraid of him, he remembered damn well on his own. 

he'd just made sure you were safe, was all. and after it’d happened, you’d spent the whole night convincing Joel that what he did wasn't scary, just protective. worried about his friend. 

there's a streak of pride that runs through him, knowing the boy wouldn't come near you again. you deserve to be comfortable, to feel safe in this city, this life. and if Joel can try to do anything, it's that. 

"yes you do." you say it so gently, it's less than a whisper. but Joel, emboldened by the soft light of your single lamp in the corner, the crackling of the classical music in the corner, the ambiance of the settled sun, nods his head.

you make it seem so simple. he looks around your apartment; at the glass that's filled but forgotten, at the ripped and faded posters for bands that fell from existence before your birth; at the plants that flourish in your care, at the clay pots and spare keychains and old magazines that you've collected for so long. you make it so damn easy, he realizes.

so for once, why can't he indulge? he knows you wouldn't stop him if he were to try and kiss you right now. there have been several times, in the heat of an argument or after a close call during a smuggle route with you where he's almost just leaned down and gone for it. and each time, your sunshine-eyes have called him in, begged him. pleaded with him. 

but he's always avoided that; it's like stepping over a landmine each time. and those landmines just seem to pile up and pile up these days.

the landmines; the ones that are starting to seem more and more like eggshells just waiting to be crushed. 

so with a shallow swallow of pride, he crushes them all with one sentence. 

"yeah, I do. ‘s because he knows you're mine now." 

well, this was certainly new territory for you and him. 

you stare up at him after he mutters those words. his eyes are sharp, serious, jaw ticking as he searches for your response. your heart thunders at his admission - the willingness to admit anything even remotely close to affection has never come easy for Joel, if at all. it's almost scary. 

but he doesn't look dishonest, or regretful. there's a flicker of insecurity, of course; but deeper inside, there's acceptance. you've been patient with him, and likely will be for the rest of your life - he's ready to be patient with you, too. you let out a shaky breath, afraid that any burst of movement or emotion will scare him away like a wounded animal. 

"yeah." you utter, mouth dry, "I'm- I'm yours." you agree. 

it was never spoken out loud before; it wasn't really even suggested except for by the prying eyes of others along the street, noticing the one and only soft spot Joel Miller has: you. 

hell, even Tess hadn't mentioned it to either of you out of fear of hostility, fear of cannon-balling feet-first onto a landmine the size of the whole QZ. 

you and Joel. 

but there is simply no alcohol or pill on this planet that will taste the way his lips do, and you know it. you yearn to taste him. "Joel..." you mutter softly, leaning forward as your arm curls around his bicep. your chin tilts up and his eyes, lidded low, meet yours. 

he ought not to do this. there are reasons he's held back from touching you, kissing you, making you his before. there are hundreds of reasons that this is a bad idea, but as you stare up at him with the warmth of the sun in your eyes, warming his cold bones, he caves in. he would give you anything you want. 

that's just the way it's always been with you and him, he realizes. 

your face is close to his, and you stare up at him with longing, desire, need dripping from your whole being. his hand falls onto your denim-clad thigh, his thumb rubbing light patterns as you lean closer.

"why would you let me do this?" he whispers, a ghost against your lips. tilting your head, you furrow your brows, "l-let you?" you shake your head with a soft smile, "I have wanted this since I met you. I've ached for you." you admit feebly. "isn't this right?" you ask, insecure. your brows are pulled together in anxiety and he wishes to smooth out the frustration with the pad of his thumb. "shouldn't we be together?" you ask, almost broken. 

his stomach curls with emotion at the tone of your voice, pleading with him. his groan vibrates through your entire body as he sighs, "darlin', you're askin' the wrong man that. y’know I'd tear the world apart to be with you." he admits, feeling the grace of your smile over his own.  

"I want to feel-" you beg, hands roaming over his chest, "I want to feel you. please." you ask him gently, and his stomach twists because you know he'll always cave for you. 

"I'm a bad man-" he starts with the spiel he's given himself every single night, laying on his mattress or on your shitty couch begging his mind not to dream of your soft, supple skin. 

"stop that, Joel. you sound foolish." you shake your head, sunshine in your eyes lighting the whole room. "this life is just how it is, and you are how you are. I am yours, and you deserve to be mine, too." 

he swallows roughly as your lips brush against his, and his heart feels the trigger of a pressure plate; he knows he isn't going to be able to stop the words from falling from his lips as soon as they part. 

"you're- you're everything." he admits breathlessly, eyes searching yours. 

the world explodes around you and even with Joel's shitty ear he can still hear the ring of your laughter, of your smile, of your happiness. his words are broken and choked up from disuse; he's not sure when the last time he said those words were, and he cannot open that closet full of skeletons right now. 

but it doesn't matter, when you say your next words with a smile bigger than the whole world.  "I love you too, Joel." 

and when he takes you on your lumpy couch, your moans are sweet. saccharine. he swallows every single one with his own lips, your fingers tangled in his curls. 

you taste different than he'd expected - more sweet, more caring. your skin is soft and your touches on him breathe new life into him. 

sure, there are a lot of things that Joel cannot and probably will not ever be able to say. you know that, though, and as you come undone around him, spasming in bliss and sobbing out his name as if it's the only thing you can remember, it's all he can do to pull you closer into a tight embrace. 

it's fully dark outside as he pulls orgasm after orgasm from your strained body, gone limp from his love; your lips are bruised and so are your hips, but there's still that sweet smile on your face as he moans your name out, finally able to let go. the couch is on its last leg, crumbling beneath your bodies as you wrap your legs around his lap, squeezing him tighter as you pull your chest to his, your lips to his own. his words are dirty, uttered into the shell of your ear as his hand trails down the line of your spine, pumping up into you until he's shooting spurts of his seed deep into you. 

he paints you with his love, and though his words are never enough, yours are. he can't believe those things that you left unsaid for so many months would taste so damn good after they were detonated. both of your fears, entangled with each other in a life nothing like what you'd hope for, are enough to keep your hands entwined even after you're both spent. 

his hands are gentle and intoxicating as they clean you up, wiping down your slicked thighs and your spent body, his lips soothing over every mark he'd left in his wake.

and finally, as sleep overtakes the both of you, Joel finally slides under your covers with you. he pulls you tightly into his warm chest, the lumpy couch forgotten. his lips ghost over your neck even after you fall asleep.

your hand twitches in his when you mutter his name in your sleep. he can't help the smile that grows on his lips.

maybe, you could guide him through all of those landmines. 

.

requests open.

. 

[essektheylyss]

for the ask game: 🧡🖤💚

🧡: What is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?

Until I see definitive proof that Ludinus is in fact as old as he wants people to believe he is, I will not believe it. I don't even really have an opinion on how old he is; I just don't think he's as old as he tries to suggest. And lest it be said that I am playing favorites, the thing about Ludinus is that he talks the way Essek talks in 91—and there are a lot of things Essek says at that dinner that I take with a good heaping of salt. It's this sense that they're talking around things that they would rather people not question; they're both very skilled at talking around things in a way where they aren't outright lying, but they'd rather you not think too hard about it because there's shit they're not saying. To be clear I also won't be mad if there does turn out to be some evidence in canon that he is that old, but thus far, there is nothing definitive, and I do not take the word of unreliable NPCs at face value.

🖤: Which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?

I don't think this is really an unpopular opinion at this point, but Jester. Nice =/= good. I don't think she's evil, by any means! But her morality is a lot more complex than it's given credit for and I think it's one of the things that is most interesting about her. I'd actually consider her largely amoral; it's just not really an axis of consideration that she worries about. She doesn't want people to hurt her or her friends and she doesn't want something to destroy the world, but otherwise she doesn't really care much about what someone's morality is. "Just don't be evil to me" is an incredible sentiment for a reason. She cares more that Essek said they were his friends than the fact that he's the traitor they've been looking for. Ludinus is so insignificant to her despite his literally world-spanning evil plots that she has basically forgotten him six years later, even though two members of her friend group have spent the last six years trying to pin him down. Jester is hilariously amoral and I love that for her.

💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?

[cracks knuckles] OKAY, this is where I've got receipts, because hooo boy do I have an opinion and I will be proving it.

Essek does not have an opinion on the Prime Deities. He does not really have much of an opinion on religion. He actually does not by the end of the campaign have any real issue with the Luxon, and frankly he primarily expressed issue with the Dynasty's worship because, until he got to Aeor, he wasn't certain that the Luxon was a real entity at all—which he contrasts against the Prime Deities, in fact!—and he seems to believe there is compelling evidence in Aeor that categorically disproves his hypothesis that the beacons are simply constructed Age of Arcanum devices.

Originally he is mostly concerned that the Luxon religion is used as a "crutch" which is "distracting them from what other good things they could do with the time and focus". He does specify that any religion can be used as such, but he only remarks upon the one he knows. His theory about the beacons, as of episode 91, is that they may be "artifacts designed in the Age of Arcanum that have been misread" that could be put to even further use.

He also does parrot the Dynasty party line in their first meeting about the Luxon being "the basis of how we've been able to free ourselves from the binds of the lineage the Betrayer Gods left for us", and while I do not take him at face value here (see the above commentary about unreliable NPCs), I doubt the truth of this statement is lost on him, considering his familial connections to Bazzoxan, which I can only imagine would not exactly endear one to the Betrayers, though this is only conjecture. If we do care to take him at his word here, it's not unreasonable, since he obviously has a lot more interest in the power offered by the beacons than anything else.

With all that being said, his tune on the Luxon itself has at least changed by the time they get to Aeor. He discusses iconography found in Aeor and when prompted by the Nein about whether the beacons were created by mortals, says, "I do not believe that they are made by anyone but the Luxon. They are of the Luxon. But they've been around since the Luxon's been in Exandria, which is the beginning."

So we started with him largely apathetic to religion, uncertain if this god was real, and by the time we circle back to him, he has now sided fairly definitively with the fact that the Luxon is an entity that has been around since at least the Founding. (For those keeping track at home, this is longer than Predathos has been around. In the Dynasty's creation myth, it may also have been around before the Prime Deities arrived, which is technically not incompatible with the creation myth of Exandria at large, but I digress.) Like most of Exandria, and as is perfectly reasonable for both his culture and his region, he probably doesn't have any love for the Betrayer Gods, but doesn't express much opinion if any on the Prime Deities. He has no time for religion, but frankly, he doesn't have time for much except for his own research, so it's hard to really ascribe any noted contempt to that.

Like, look, I've written plenty of religious trauma Essek fic, and I don't doubt that that element of it exists, but overall, in terms of canonical statements, it's pretty tame.

With that being said, I do want to fast forward a bit to draw attention to something else. Because I actually do think he ends the campaign with some measure of respect for, at the very least, the Wildmother.

In 140 after the Raise Dead fails, he talks briefly with Fjord about the unfairness of it. Fjord passively directs him to "if you were to ask my wise friend Caduceus..." Immediately after this exchange, Essek challenges Caleb to not accept defeat, and admits he wishes there was more that he or any of them could do, but concedes that, "Unfortunately, this type of magic is beyond my purview."

Immediately after this exchange, Caduceus asks for divine intervention.

Of course, he then spends several weeks gardening in a temple to the Wildmother, and seems to find some genuine clarity and perspective there, but I think this alone is enough to argue that, for a person as driven by empirical evidence as Essek, this sequence of events in 140 would be plenty to earn a wizard's respect.

So my formal belief is that Essek is not in fact anti-god or anti-religion, let alone against the Prime Deities. My opinion is that it's very easy to imagine him on his post-campaign travels leaving a small offering at any shrine of Melora he might pass, not out of actual worship but as a sign of respect.

[munsonify]

nsfw alphabet

pairing. dom!boyfriend!steve harrington x sub!afab!reader

content warnings. smut 18+ mdni, creampies, oral (male and female receiving), head pushing, finger sucking, mentions of rough/degrading sex, quickies, butt plugs, teasing choking, spanking, bondage, choking, spanking, size kink, and squirting, masturbation, overstimulation, description of his cock and pubic hair, perv!steve.

word count. 1467

a - aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

— steve may not always know what to do, but one thing about him, is that he is very loving. so, even if you have to guide him a little the first time after sex, the thought is still there! steve is very cuddly after sex, and will always want to be next to you/touching you! when he’s got you all messy, he’s quick to cleaning you up or showering with you. he’ll whisper a few “i love you”’s before passing out with you.

b - body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

— steve loves his hair, we know this, but his shoulders and back are absolutely his favorite body part of his. he’s very strong, and it shows mostly there, so he loves how they look. anytime you grip his shoulders or scratch down his back desperately while having sex, he swears he does a little inside (/pos).

— steve loves your thighs. he loves gripping them while he fuck you, and he loves the way his head slots between them while he eats you out. hes sucked more hickeys on your thighs than he’s sucked anywhere else on you.

c - cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

— at the beginning of the relationship, steve used exclusively condoms while you two had sex. however, he quickly discovers how much he loves coming inside of you. he obsessed with watching as his cum spills slowly out of your pussy and how it feels filling you up like that.

d- dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

— he absolutely has an oral fixation. if he doesn’t have something to do with his mouth he’d probably pass away, and maybe that’s why he loves eating your pussy so much! but, that eventually translates into wanting to suck on your fingers.

e - experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

— it’s canon steve has slept around, so he absolutely has loads of experienced (luckily for you). he knows exactly what he’s doing, it’s just a matter of figuring out what works best with your body. when he finally figures it out, you’re absolutely gone for!

f - favorite position (this goes without saying)

— as freaky as i think steve can be, he absolutely loves missionary. he mostly just likes being able to see your face, which missionary gives in an extremely intimate way that he loves. the way he’s able to press so close to you while he’s inside of you, getting the perfect view of your pretty face, is what he loves during sex.

g - goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc…)

— steve’s definitely more serious than he is goofy during sex. he takes pleasing you very seriously, and he wants to make sure he gives you the best experience possible. though, with that being said, he has no problem cracking a joke or two while he’s stretching you open.

h - hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc…)

— we’ve seen just about every inch of this man in the best way possible. he definitely doesn’t have a clean shave, though he does trim his pubes when they get too long for his liking. they’re still messy and curly and dark and ahhh

i - intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

— steve can go from extremely romantic and intimate, and very degrading and rough so quick. there’s always love every time you two have sex, however, the romantic aspect of it may not always be in your face and evident!

j - jack off (masturbation headcanon)

— this man still jacks off every once in a while, especially when you’re gone and he’s thinking about you. he’ll moan out your name while fisting his cock, thinking about your warm mouth around him. usually, though, if he wants to get off he’ll come to you.

k - kink (one or more of their kinks)

— bondage, overstimulation, choking, spanking, size kink, squirting (if you guys want me to elaborate on any of these i absolutely will).

l - location (favorite places to do the do)

— steve loves having sex either in bed or in the back of his car. he usually prefers having sex in bed, because it gives him more room to move, however there’s nothing better than you sloppily riding him in the back of his bmw with the windows fogged up. although, the sound of his bed squeaking while he fucks you is like music to his ears.

m - motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

— god this man is such a slut. when you do that thing where you grab onto his arm while you’re walking together, he’s over for. shoulder rubs? a goner. how sweet you are to steve can also get him going a lot of the time.

n - no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

— he wouldn’t want to bruise you anywhere but your ass, and even then, i don’t think he’s too into it. steve loves spanking you and choking you, he definitely has a pain kink, but i don’t think he’d want to leave any marks that aren’t hickeys or scratches. he doesn’t wanna cause any permanent/excessive harm

o - oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc…)

— oh steve is amazing at eating pussy. he absolutely eats you out like it’s his last meal on earth. yet, despite how much he loves giving you oral, he loves receiving it. the way you look taking his cock down your throat is one of his favorite sights. he’s definitely a head pusher.

p - pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc…)

— it honestly dependent on his mood. this man fucks good and never sticks to one pace. sometimes, steve will fuck your deep and slow, making sure you feel every inch of his fat cock sliding in and out of you. other times, he fucks you fast and hard into the mattress into you’re crying for him to let up.

q - quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc…)

— steve loves a good quickie. does he prefer it over proper sex? no, but he will never deny himself of being able to fuck you in the break room of the family video during his breaks. this only really happens when he’s really desperate and you’ve got him worked up real bad. he’ll spill his cum into you and pull your panties back up with no shame <3

r - risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc…)

— he is absolutely up for experimenting and taking risk, but only if he knows it’ll be safe for the both of you. he would never try something new if there was a chance of hurting you. other than that, if it’s safe in fun, he’ll absolutely experiment in bed!

s - stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last, etc…)

— he can go on for a few rounds, i think maybe three at most if you haven’t had sex for a few days. he can last for an hour? two? before his arms become real weak or he becomes too overstimulated to continue (this includes foreplay and multiple rounds, not just penetrative sex).

t - toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

— i think, at most, steve owns a fleshlight, a vibrator, and maybe a butt plug? he bought the vibrator for you specifically, and absolutely uses it to overstimulate you even more when he can’t on his cock. he probably doesn’t use the fleshlight often, only when he’s really desperate.

u - unfair (how much they like to tease)

— steve’s a huge tease throughout the day. he loves getting you all needy and worked up while you’re out and about and unable to fuck. he’ll tease you with his tongue when you’re finally in bed, giving you slow, soft licks until you’re begging for more. other than that, he usually just wants to get down to business. he’s just a desperate whore for you really.

v - volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

— i don’t care what you guys say, this man moans and whimpers. if he feels good, he has no shame in letting you know and letting it all out. he grunts when he’s fucking you rough, moaning when you’re sucking him off or clenching around him real nice, and whimpering when he’s close/coming. it’s not super loud, he usually makes sure it’s right in your ear for you to hear. he loves moaning “oh god honey” right into your ear and it makes you meltttt

w - wild card (a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

— this man is a perv <3 he absolutely stole your panties after you had sex one time and hasn’t given them back. he jerks off with it in his hands, but makes sure he doesn’t get any of his cum on it. he wants to make sure he keeps as much of your scent on it as he can. he also has definitely taken polaroids of you (with consent) that he gets off with. this boy also has no shame staring straight up your skirt when he’s given the chance.

x - xray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

— i’ve been waiting for this question. 8 inches, absolutely a shower. he definitely has a lot of girth to him, which stretches you out so nice. his balls are nice and heavy too. it is so obviously when you turn him on and give him a boner. just know it feels so nice having him in your mouth.

y - yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

— he’s got a relatively high sex drive. it isn’t anything crazy, though he does find himself hot and ready for you a lot. he’ll wake up horny a lot of mornings you’re with him. he just can’t help himself around you! he does, however, know when to keep it in his pants.

z - zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

— after hes given you proper aftercare (and you’ve given him proper aftercare, because that’s still important), he’s really quick to fall asleep. once you both are taken care of properly, he’s out like a light snoring into your ear.

[defectivevillain]

vigilant veneration

pairing: Padmé Amidala/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

summary: After an assassination attempt on Senator Padmé Amidala, you're tasked with watching over her. One late night, you accidentally fall asleep outside her door—and you wake to find her staring down at you.

reader's pronouns are unspecified; race and gender are ambiguous; no physical descriptors are used.

word count: 1k | ao3 version

warnings: mentions of fatigue/exhaustion and a canonical assassination attempt

At first, you think you’re imagining someone calling your name. Then, there’s a light shove to your shoulder and you’re roused from sleep. You blink blearily, opening your eyes to find Padmé looking down at you. It begins to come back to you in that moment: you had watched over Padmé the previous night; you wanted a brief moment’s respite and had moved to sit on the ground; now, you’re still on the ground, but there’s sunlight peeking through the sheer curtains down the hall. You immediately push yourself to your feet—despite Padmé’s hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that you haven’t made a misstep—and regard her with a somewhat terrified expression. 

You were assigned to watch over Padmé Amidala, the former Queen of Naboo and newly-declared Senator, after an assassination attempt very nearly took her life. You’ve been a Padawan for a few years now, and you hoped that, with the successful completion of this task, you’d be even closer to becoming a true Jedi. Moreover, selfishly speaking, you wanted to get to know Padmé better. You had seen her in passing and spoken to her a few times with Obi-Wan, but you never got the chance to truly interact with her. You’ve quickly grown to care for her—in a manner that far surpasses the professional boundaries mandated by your assignment and your status as a Jedi-in-training.

Now, as you look at the Senator—who is staring at you with a mix of perplexity and something close to concern—you realize you’ve made a terrible mistake. “Your Highness, please forgive me-” You’re quick to stammer, beginning to grow quite nervous under her watchful gaze. Despite the fact that Amidala gave up her throne after her second term, it only feels right to address her as the Queen. 

“It’s alright,” she responds, eloquent as always. You’re too frazzled and embarrassed to register that she’s not angry with you, so you continue speaking. 

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep- It was only for a few moments, I promise.” You try to justify. Admittedly, your heart is racing out of your chest as you’re faced with Padmé’s full attention. Yet, you can’t quite dwell on that in the face of the harrowing realization that you left the Senator entirely unguarded in her room. An assassin could’ve snuck into her room, broken the window, and killed her with a swift shot from a blaster. The thought sickens you. 

“It’s alright,” Padmé repeats thoroughly, breaking you away from your panicked thoughts. She is calm and composed, which only makes you feel worse. Somehow, she is not acknowledging the severity of your blunder. “You can’t be expected to stay awake all night to watch over me.” 

“But that’s my job,” you feel the need to remind her. Why isn’t she furious with you? She should be—her anger would be completely justified. “That’s what I’m here for, and I failed.” You realize aloud. 

“You didn’t fail,” Padmé argues, her eyebrows furrowed. Her lips are pressed in a thin line now. 

“I did,” you insist. “What if something had happened to you? I’d never forgive myself-” Your voice cracks slightly at the end of that statement and you hope she doesn’t notice. The prospect of being complicit in her assassination is… unacceptable.

“That’s quite enough,” Padmé interjects, before you can spiral any longer. The commanding tone in her voice makes you promptly shut your mouth. She extends a hand towards you, as if to place a hand on your shoulder, before evidently abandoning the gesture. “Dwelling on the past is a pointless endeavor. Besides, I can protect myself.” She raises an eyebrow after that, as if daring you to argue. 

“I didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” you’re quick to say, shaking your head in disbelief at your own foolishness. You’re just tripping over your own words at this point, and with each statement, you’re incriminating yourself even more. You take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. Admittedly, you didn’t get nearly enough rest—but you’d never burden Padmé with the details. Besides, this is what you signed up for. So what if you haven’t slept in three days? The Queen’s safety is far more important. 

“Enough of this,” Padmé says, resolve written in her posture. There’s concern glittering in her eyes, but you dismiss it as a figment of your imagination. Surely Padmé isn’t genuinely worried for you. She simply wants her bodyguard—that’s really all you are, at this point—to be well enough to protect her. “You look positively exhausted.” She adds. The Senator is right. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror the prior night and nearly recoiled at your reflection, which sported extremely dark under-eye circles. You can’t imagine those went away overnight. “You need to rest.” Padmé maintains. 

“No, it’s fine-” You try to say, only for her to cut you off. 

“As your Queen, I’m ordering you to rest.” You blink at her for a few moments, and it takes several moments for you to convince yourself that you heard her correctly. At your surprised expression, she softens. “Come on.” Padmé motions for you to follow after her. After a moment’s contemplation, you do so. She’s a member of the Galactic Senate and the former Queen of Naboo, after all. You’re a mere Padawan. Who are you to refuse? 

When the two of you make it to your bedroom, you move to sit on your bed. You expect Padmé to leave you with a farewell, but after a few moments, you’re forced to watch in thinly-veiled confusion as she pulls up a chair and sits down. Under her attentive gaze, you have no choice but to get under the covers and lie back against your pillow. “Sleep,” she says, not unkindly. “I’ll watch over you.” 

That’s not necessary, you want to say. You don’t trust yourself to speak, though. Besides, you’re already struggling to keep your eyes open. You recline on the bed and stare up at the ceiling, quickly losing the fight to your exhaustion. The last sensation you register before falling asleep is a hand grasping yours with delicate care.

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian

[linmeiwei]

Deconstructing Mr Darcy

My favourite character in all Austen canon is Mr Darcy. Unfortunately, as soon as I say this, everybody is like

Because when I say this people think of this…

And this…

But that’s not why he’s my favourite character.

There is this famous quote by P.D. James in which she argues that Austen's Emma is like a predecessor of the detective novel, in the way that she sprinkles clues as to what's really going on with Frank Churchill.

And ever since, I've been reading Pride and Prejudice differently, because of course she does something similar there too.

Specifically, Austen constructs this elaborate character puzzle with Mr Darcy at its centre. Every time he and Elizabeth clash, throughout the novel, one of the central conflicts sparks up: what is Darcy really like?

Elizabeth’s early interest in him is often interpreted as sexual tension/latent attraction. I’m not saying this isn’t the case (you can argue about this). But what is evident is that her intellectual interest in characters is roused by him. Because, well, he really presents her with a tricky puzzle.

1) The mysterious man at the ball

When Elizabeth and her sisters go to the Assembly Ball at Meryton, remember, they go there to ogle Mr Bingley. He is the rich, handsome bachelor they hope to dance with when they get there.

But then they actually arrive and it’s someone else who has everyone talking. Mr Darcy. He’s the tall, handsome stranger who turns out to be much, much richer than Mr Bingley, and who gets everyone excited.

Who will he dance with?

Well, nobody because he’s like way too important to deign to notice any of them. He stoops to acknowledge that Jane, literally the most beautiful girl in the county, is somewhat pretty. But her sister is totally beneath his notice.

With this twist upon a twist, the author invites Elizabeth and the reader to abandon their first suspicion that he’s the hero and to consider him a little absurd instead. And this is a comic novel. By that point we have met multiple absurd characters, so we know this is what is to be expected from this story.

2) The cracks

The narrator hints that Darcy enjoys a good gossip with his friends and spends his free time dissecting the many ways in which the local women don’t interest him. Again, absurd, remember? Elizabeth is among the women he judges harshly, but as he sees more and more of her this happens:

So the reader is now invited to some irony which Elizabeth is not privileged to enjoy. But it’s all in service of the comedy, right? Because it’s more delicious for the reader to see the contrast of how much Elizabeth is wrong about what he thinks of her.

You, the reader, have a good chuckle with the author about this, don’t you? But while you’re laughing you’re MISSING A CLUE! And it’s right there: Elizabeth is wrong about Darcy. It’s lampshading the fact that she doesn’t really understand him at all.

3) The real deal

So then we get a little closer to Darcy. Elizabeth stays with him and his friends at Netherfield to nurse her sister. As Darcy continues to admire her, and as she continues to be oblivious, one evening he approaches her and this happens:

Again Elizabeth is wrong about Darcy, but here Austen adds another clue:

So… the guy who has the superpower of turning any normal situation awkward makes this super awkward situation… charming?

And then Austen adds some misdirection by immediately adding:

And we’re focusing on the irony that this guy is more enchanted with her the more she rejects him. And we’re a little amazed at how arrogant this guy is that he doesn’t see how much he is disliked at this moment. Almost as self-important and oblivious as Mr Collins.

And so we don’t see that… he’s nice? And I mean, an arrogant, self-important arse, as Elizabeth thinks of him, wouldn’t be nice at this point. He’d be wounded. He’d make it awkward. Importantly, he’d make it awkward for her.

It’s hard to get out of a situation like this gracefully. But he can. He knows how. He has that ability.

And this works as a bit of foreshadowing too, of course. Dancing and courtship are pretty strongly linked in Austen (and culturally in that era) and so his acceptance of her rejection in this manner lampshades his character as a lover.

But there’s so much more. That time at Netherfield is so rich in character studies, I feel like someone could write several PhD theses on that section of the book alone.

My favourite is the one that happens when Darcy and Elizabeth literally talk about characters. Miss Bingley asserts that Darcy is perfect, has no flaws. Elizabeth is delighted: this is just what she thinks Darcy thinks of himself.

Darcy says: No, I’m plenty flawed, thanks.

Elizabeth is curious now. Go on, oh prideful one, enlighten us mere mortals!

Darcy explains that he’s resentful, that he doesn’t forget or forgive easily.

Elizabeth has to admit that that’s a non-ridiculous answer. She’s disappointed, a little, because what good is that to her, since she wanted to have a good laugh at this expense? But he predicted as much and at the beginning of this conversation challenged her on this to preempt her making a joke of the whole conversation.

He wants to continue to be serious and this happens:

Again, Austen’s sleight of hand: when we first read this, it sounds more like Darcy is just a misanthrope who has a negative and pessimistic attitude towards people. That’s how Elizabeth hears it too.

But he tells us himself: that’s not what he means. Elizabeth (and the reader) is misunderstanding him. And he shows us, right away, by taking her jibe in good humour right then and there.

Multiple times, Elizabeth teases or attacks him, and he’s cheerful about it. He thinks it’s kind of funny. Bingley gets a shot or two in, and Darcy takes that on the chest too.

Austen manages to create this impression of him in the reader’s mind of a guy who is angry and prideful all the time, but when we review his actions, how often is this really true?

4) Darcy through the eyes of others

In many analyses, Elizabeth is blamed for being so easily taken in and so stubbornly mistaken in Darcy, but in all fairness, look at what she has to work with!

So much of what she learns about him is through other people, and so what she knows is filtered by their interests, skewed perspectives and compromised judgements. The fawning of Caroline Bingley and Mr Collins, the hatred of George Wickham, the deference of Mr Bingley, the lack of deference from Colonel Fitzwilliam, the way Charlotte views men, the way Jane always finds good things to say about anybody, her mother’s vulgar prejudice, all of it adds to a picture of absolute confusion. And the worst offender is Darcy himself, of course, because he stubbornly refuses to clarify anything about himself, partly because he can’t and partly because he just won’t.

Darcy’s stay in Hertfordshire culminates in this exchange, at the Netherfield Ball, between Darcy and Elizabeth:

5) Mr Darcy in love

Darcy really is a hard nut to crack, and in large part it’s because he makes himself hard to crack. The baseline here is pretty bad but it gets so much worse the more he loves Elizabeth and the more he is determined to hide from her.

Before, he just doesn’t care what people think of him. But now, he does care and he desperately wants them not to know that he has, annoyingly and embarrassingly, fallen head over heels in love.

Austen strings us along in this confusion until the absolute shock that comes with his proposal. Even though we as readers always knew more than Elizabeth did, and even though both we the readers and Elizabeth had tonnes of evidence and clues about Darcy and his real character, this twist comes as a complete surprise.

And because we, the readers, and Elizabeth, the protagonist, are surprised, we don’t notice another important clue. Darcy is also shocked. Like, we’re all sitting in this scene, aghast, amazed, shocked. We all came to this point following a trail of wrong clues, misdirections, misunderstandings and mistaken assumptions.

But what does this tell us about Darcy? Other than what he finally reveals through his letter, we learn that the entire time he thought Elizabeth:

Knew what she was doing, flirting with and encouraging him

Understood his prevarication

Expected a proposal

The poor man doesn’t come out of this looking good, does he? It makes him look really arrogant, self-important and big-headed. And to an extent, well, it is.

But there’s also another, kinder, reading to all this: that he’s someone who overthinks things.

There’s the conversation in Netherfield with Bingley where he deprecates those who do things rapidly as if it were a virtue. We know from other parts of the novel that he’s a bookish (he prides himself in his library), intellectual (he admires those who read), “clever” (in the narrator’s own words) guy.

Used to responsibility, used to being relied on to guide and advise people, used to solving knotty problems, Darcy approached his problem (loving a girl who is in every way beneath him) in the same way. He deserves a large portion of the smackdown he receives—no argument from me here. It does him good, later, as we all know. But when we revisit the novel, these deeper dimensions of his character become more apparent whenever we come to this moment: that Darcy’s flaws are not just the obvious ones here (pride, arrogance, lack of manners) but also shades of other traits of his.

6) A mystery to the very end

At this point, Austen begins to clear the mist a little. Darcy gets such a blow with Elizabeth’s rejection that our heart does go out to him, and then the letter explains so much, you begin to feel like he’s been wronged with our harsh view of him. We’re brought into his home, and so, slowly, we are shown that, yes, he’s sort of quiet and taciturn, and maybe his people skills aren’t exactly up there, but he’s actually quite nice, at least willing to try to be outwardly more friendly, but in essence he’s a kind person and a responsible landowner. Elizabeth begins to see that he’s rather attractive.

The reader and Elizabeth begin to thaw towards him. And then Lydia runs away, All seems lost. Wickham has been such a wicked force in Darcy’s life, Elizabeth has already tried Darcy to the edge of what any reasonable man would put up with and Elizabeth’s family exposes herself in the worst possible way.

What I love is that Darcy’s true character is always, always most visible through his actions. This mirrors the whole point of the novel of course: that we should pay attention not to impressions, superficialities (words) but to what people really are, and what they actually do (actions). So, Darcy doesn’t say anything, in fact he swears everybody to silence. He just does. He saves Elizabeth’s family in the most warm-hearted, generous and forgiving way possible.

Anyway, I could write books on this subject just because of how much there is to say, and this is but the tip of the iceberg, but I’ll leave off here. I just wanted to explain why I love Mr Darcy, the character, and why you should too. Not as a literary romantic hero, not as a literary crush but as a really interesting, beautifully written, complex character in his own right.

[boinin]

Conspiracy theory of the week

Although Isagi uses this example to explain what "self style" egoists think is most important, the attitudes displayed here are Isagi's own.

In short, Isagi is interested in and motivated to seek:

Love

Money

Art as a hobby

Video games as a hobby

He's not really bothered about:

Education

Fashion

Making friends or expanding his social circle (lmfao tell that to everyone in bllk, they can't get enough of him)

Finally, he dislikes and avoids baseball.

This is intended as a shitpost, but...

Me being me, I decided to find receipts 🫠 Canon is with me on this surprisingly, at least in some cases. From the wiki:

When it comes to education, Isagi's not into theory-heavy subjects like STEM. He also signals out art alongside PE as his favourite subject. Although he doesn't note art as a hobby, he does like football video games.

This is all we have on the romance front from the Egoist Bible. We also know he didn't receive any Valentine's Day chocolates prior to Blue Lock. 🥲 RIP Isagi's love life. I'm taking the diagram to mean Isagi sees himself wanting a relationship in future.

From this Reddit post of translations of Egoist Bible character polls:

It's not much, but neither Isagi or the others rank him as much of a studier. (I find it really funny that the characters think Rin and Sae are top-notch brainiacs, but that's outside the scope of this exercise).

Isagi's attitude towards fashion? I mean...

This is what the guy chose to wear on his one outing from football prison. 🙃 Nuff said.

My most tenuous evidence comes courtesy of the light novel. It revealed Isagi has unusually keen senses, particularly eyesight and hearing:

Going off this, baseball, with the crack of bats, frequent announcements and loud cheers, might be sensory overload for Isagi. Football must be less overwhelming, at least if you're a player?

The French scanlation of the chapter 254 diagram makes reference to baseball being 'too loud', which also guided my thinking on this.

While Isagi isn't outwardly materialistic in the same way Reo or Shidou are, it's not beyond his interest. I know he was staring at the bids because he's so hung up on beating Rin... but money comes into it too for Isagi. If only because, players with the highest bids = strikers with the most outstanding talent. It's a status symbol for him.

As for the friends thing? No evidence needed. Y'all know Isagi would throw each and every friend he has under the bus, if it gets him closer to being the top striker 💀

It doesn't mean he's not a nice person or antisocial. I interpret it as, being a social butterfly isn't something that drives Isagi. He's more interested in other pursuits.

This in-universe character polls say it well: Isagi's a good communicator, rather than someone with heaps of friends. His calm personality and insight draws people in, rather than him seeking out friends or followers.

[jazzylovegood]

HAIKYUU HEADCANONS 1

Keiji Akaashi

Thanks to TikTok I learnt that Akaashi is canon to be one weird ass motherfucka, so….

- Definitely talks to himself. He mutters to himself all the time, no matter who he is around or what he is doing. Sometimes it would be on accident, he would be thinking and then just say it out loud.

“Was it the frog or toad that killed him?” -Akaashi

“….What?” -Konoha

“It was definitely the frog, the toad would never.” -Akaashi

- Listens to music you would not expect him to.

”Hey, Akaashi what you listening to? -Bokuto

”Nothing much.” -Akaashi

Bokuto puts his ear up to Akaashi’s headphones and just hears Cluster by fuckin Slipknot.

- Mr. Keiji “I cannot stop cracking my bones” Akaashi

Even in silence he will just randomly decide to crack something. Knee, fingers, hand, toes, head, elbow. He will be cracking it. Helps him concentrate.

- I would like to remind you that Akaashi is everything but shy, he is very blunt and sassy when he is speaking, and he definitely stays that way for everyone. Is not the type to hold back or change his personality when meeting someone new. (Which we saw in the show). Him and Kenma are not the same. There is a difference between chill and shy.

- You know you are one of his close friends when he remembers everything you tell him. Your shoe size, blood type, your favorite food as a kid, your 5th favorite color, even what you named your pet rock in 1st grade. You mention it once to him and he will remember because to him that is what could make him a great friend.

- He actually does write stuff in his notes app. His notes app is his most used app every week. 10 hours at least. He writes EVERY THOUGHT in there. For example, during the day when he thinks about food, he would like to eat for dinner he writes it down. As a reminder. Even though he has amazing memory, he does this to make sure his past self is happy.

- Watches tv in dad pose. Arms are entire crossed or on his hips. He will read the synopsis of the show and say he was not interested in it and then would be standing there watching. As The Gods Will for example.

- Makes eye contact. Wants you to feel heard and he wants to see the changes in your facial expressions (If you are like me, you have A LOT of those). That is why I think he is pulled towards people like Bokuto, loud and genuine people. He is also pulled towards great storytellers, people who use their hands when they are talking and/or voices for people involved. Always have that evidence on lockdown. He would love to see the receipts.

- Wears weird ass shirts. I am talking “a picture of pants on a shirt” type shit. World's greatest grandpa, I am just a girl, and would have shirts with his friend's names on it, in a pun way. “Danny stops! Do not poke your toes!” Get it. Bokuto. Poke your toes (I am kinda sorry).

═══════════════•°•🦉•°•════════════════

TIKTOK MENTIONS

“Sometimes he'll think of a line from a vid he watched a week ago and repeat it for hours.” -four ☆

“Does not smell like anything. not his shampoo, not even sweat, he doesn't have a smell at all.” -monira 💌

“Y’all know those little rubber band bracelets that made shapes? yea, he has a whole collection of them in a jar” -kai 🎸🦕

“If he had any piercings, he would constantly be playing with it touching them” -coors_lightt

Other HEADCANONS: Daichi,

[adipostsstuff]

The 'Es is Mikoto's younger sister' crack-but-not-really theory post

@74n5n don't say I don't do things for you.

This is mainly a joke theory I thought of randomly but when I thought about it more there was actually a lot of evidence for it so I'm going to compile a list of it here.

They have similar appearances, doen to their ahoges. I reblogged a post earlier about this one.

Es is a similar age to what Mikoto claims his sister to be (early high school age)

Mikoto calls his younger sister brilliant. I don't know about you but I consider memorising large sections of law, psychology and philosophy to be pretty brilliant. They canonically "have a thirst for knowledge" and enjoy learning about new things and may possibly be the most learned person here despite having thr least amount of lived experience.

Es refers to themself as 'uchi' in his second voice drama, which a less formal and more childish pronoun rather than 'boku' like they usually do, which may indicate dropping their guard in front of him and becoming more comfortable around him. This is the only time they refer to themselves as that. (Credits to @/somokoto for pointing this out.) (Side note: it is somewhat amusing to me that the characters Es seems to be closest to are the ones voted guilty trial 1.)

The rest of this is mainly behavioural similarities which isn't actually evidence and more so parallels but I'm going to list them anyways.

5. Both are prone to overworking themselves.

6. Both are a lot stronger than they appear to be. Mikoto is "a normal man with average build" yet he is the 3rd strongest prisoner out of the lot. Es and Kotoko both point out that their physique is not very strong yet they fucking knocked Kazui off of his chair. Sure, he was taken by surprise, and they were quite panicked, but Kazui is heavy and Es is tiny. They should not have the muscle to do that from their appearance alone but they do. They could probably vault half of the prisoners across the room and they wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

7. Onto the last point, both (well, John more so than Mikoto, but he is just a different aspect of him) have violent instincts, which is something they share with many others and is likely the result of forgotten trauma.

8. Both have identity issues and dissociate.

9. Also I believe in the "Es committed a murder in the past" theory so that in this context is very funny. Siblings who kill and then forget about it entirely separately.

Like, I do not believe thus will actually happen because I'm not sure where to fit that in narratively and it seems like a pretty big reveal to just gloss over, and also you would think Mikoto would recognise his own younger sister (unless he's been away from home for that long and hasn't been able to return, which, given his work situation, isn't entirely implausible), but it would be wild if it were to come true.

[saintsenara]

📖🖤

thank you very much for the asks, anons!

if you had to remove one book from the series, which would you choose?

answered here.

which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?

i'm going to bend the terms of this question a little bit, so that i can talk about how little i vibe with a common way of writing luna - the one which presents the things she believes as correct, and the rest of the world as simply too narrow-minded to see it.

this turns luna into - essentially - a flawless clairvoyant, working tirelessly to get others to see the truth, and it therefore turns her canonical naivety, stubbornness, inability to accept that she might be wrong, and refusal to consider multiple viewpoints into displays of moral fortitude.

instead of what they actually are... flaws. all of which have made her a conspiracy theorist, rather than the one person in the world who gets it.

i'd be really interested in a fic which takes this aspect of luna's character seriously - whether it looks at her beliefs becoming more entrenched, or thinks about what it would be like for her as she began to drift away from the certainties of her conspiracist thinking. i'd also like to see fics take the implication of canon that she is - to some extent - indoctrinated by her father seriously. and - of course - i'd also like to see the crack fics of luna managing to genuinely convince swathes of people to get into snorcack hunting...

i'm not interested one bit in manic-pixie-dream!luna.

what does everyone else get wrong about your favourite character?

snape is not a good occlumens because he's emotionally controlled. nor because he's emotionally repressed.

he's good occlumens because he's incredibly petty.

contrary to its fanon interpretation, occlumency is not building a mental fortress - putting up an occlumency shield/wall isn't a thing [and, indeed, can't be - because then the legilimens you're protecting your thoughts from would realise that you were doing this...] - and nor is it the total control of any emotion other than bland calm.

occlumency is, essentially, being able to lie [or, at the very least, to bend the truth] fluently - and to manage your emotional response [including responses which appear to be unstable, like glee, anger, or sorrow] with sufficient ease that nobody ever guesses that you're lying or withholding information.

this requires a certain level of performativity. it also requires a certain level of self-awareness - and, especially, self-awareness of your negative characteristics. one of the reasons why i think harry isn't a good occlumens is because - while he's a very good liar when he knows that what he's saying is exclusively a lie - he's prone to righteousness in situations in which he knows [or thinks he knows] that what he's saying has any level of truth to it. he finds it incredibly difficult to hold his temper - that is, to manage his emotional response, or to perform anger, rather than letting it overtake him unrestrainedly - in front of people like snape or umbridge because they're wrong in how they interpret his views and behaviours, and this is something which he never learns [during the canon series, at least] to not be provoked by.

but snape is clearly aware that he has a tendency towards delighting in the misfortune of others - as well as an evident loathing for people who think that they're cleverer than he is, whom he loves misleading.

and it's this which makes him such a good occlumens - he likes lying, especially to people who are arrogant enough to believe that they've got him all figured out.

or, as he puts it in half-blood prince:

“You think he is mistaken? Or that I have somehow hoodwinked him? Fooled the Dark Lord, the greatest wizard, the most accomplished Legilimens the world has ever seen?”

he has - of course - done just that. and he clearly finds it enormously entertaining - thereby making him relaxed enough to allow him to manage his emotional performance while lying - that both voldemort and bellatrix never seriously consider the fact that this might be the case...

[internetgiraffekid1673]

Ramblings About Batfam Comics I Read This Week

So. I spent this week reading unhealthy amounts of batfam comics, and I have thoughts!

I have now read the entirety of the Red Robin solo comic, all of Batgirl Volume 3 (Stephanie Brown's batgirl run), Batman: the Road Home because I kinda had to for context, about half of the currently running Batgirls comic (Cass and Steph share the Batgirl role with Barbara as their mentor and also sometimes Batgirl), and The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller.

Why these? Simple, I wanted to read Batgirls, I wanted Red Robin Tim, and I wanted Carrie Kelley's existence. So, without further ado, here are my major thoughts!

You know me, my ramblings turn into long essays, so it all goes under a cut and subsections! As per usual, TL;DR at the bottom!

Multiple Comics:

1. Comics are funnier than we give them credit for. Even the edgiest ones I was reading left me cracking up every once in a while.

2. I have maintained this since I first started learning about the BatFam, and I will maintain it till I die---Batman has partners, not sidekicks. They don't follow his orders. He doesn't LET them do anything. He runs around doing damage control while a bunch of absolutely feral children fight crime. Batman doesn't make heroes. He finds heroes and makes sure they have access to a decent first aid kit, training, and some morals.

3. Stephanie Brown is a BAMF who does NOT get the love she deserves. Not only is she smart, determined, and awesome in a fight, she's got something that many batfam characters lack: kindness. Stephanie is sweet and adorkable and nice to everyone while still managing to be a chaotic, hypercompetent, sarcastic menace to society. I'll go into more details under the Batgirl v. 3 section, but I am now a massive Stephanie Brown stan, and I will not tolerate slander! Put some respect on the name of Stephanie f*cking Brown!

4. I am now both a shipper of TimSteph and CassSteph. With occasional HarperSteph. This is unsurprising. I have multiple characters I like together in most mediums, and I don't give a crap about canon, so I can ship whichever one I'm in the mood for! :)

5. In a similar vein, reading the comics very much stoked my already strong DickBabs fire. I love me so Birdflash, RobStar, and Babs/Kara, but I'm beginning to think DickBabs is my favorite combo.

6. Stephanie's OG spoiler costume is her best one, but she's at her best characterization as v. 3 Batgirl.

7. F*CK YOU NEW 52! Nobody likes you, and you ruin everything! You robbed me of my favorite incarnations of these characters! DEATH TO THE NEW 52! BURN, YOU DISGUSTING INSULT TO NARRATIVE CONSISTENCY!

8. Damian and Dick as Batman and Robin are honestly precious together. I only got bits and pieces viewed through Batgirl and Red Robin's eyes, but I really like them and their dynamic with both each other and everyone else. I think my favorite thing is definitely that they have named combo moves where they complete each other's quips. It's adorable.

9. Bruce is a well-meaning a**hole. He really does care about his family, but he needs to trust them more and get MUCH better at communicating.

10. Did you know everybody has a cool base outside of the Batcave? Damian and Dick are based in Wayne Tower, Tim has his Nest, Babs has the Clocktower, and Steph's Team Batgirl has the Firewall which is below Oracle's apartment.

Red Robin Solo Run

1. Tim is one cool BAMF. Man fought the whole Court of Spiders at once---who were killing League of Assasins members for fun BTW---and won and got the civilian bystander out safely. He blew up ALL of Ra's Al Ghul's bases, then fought off Ra's double threat of a hostile takeover on Wayne Enterprises and attempts to assasinate all of Batman's loved ones. He took down the evil, corruptive, hive-mind dark-net that supervillains use to communicate (yes this is a thing that exists). He successfully got evidence that Batman was alive when NOBODY else believed him and then was one of the first to actually know he was back and easily pass Bruce's tests (yes, Bruce tested people instead of telling them he was alive, because he is a well-meaning a**hole).

3. Tim is an edgy teenager. He does at least as much brooding as Batman, but with this sarcasm and dry wit behind everything that Batman doesn't really have. Tim has a consistent "Well f*ck my life, I guess," mentality that is FASCINATING to read, and is the source of a lot of his humor. He has a habit of reacting to really dramatic and serious situations with a deadpan "Welp. That ain't good. Guess I'll either figure it out or die trying."

2. Tim is apparently a chick-magnet. Just in Red Robin, he's got a thing going with Tam Fox and Lynx, Prudence Wood thinks he's sexy, he almost gets raped by Ra's Al Ghul's half-sister, and he and Steph still have feelings about each other that primarily consist of "why does my ex have to be so hot?" I am now incorporating this fact into ALL of my headcanons. It also makes for some fun drama, because all of these ladies (except maybe Steph) are way more into Red Robin than they are Tim Drake, even if they're aware of his identity. I find this objectively hilarious.

3. Tim's cowl is stupid. Apparently, the artist got the memo about halfway through the comic since tim has a pretty cool, uniquely shaped domino mask when he's in the Ünternet. This should be his mask in all appearances. Clearly unique to Red Robin, but not the stupid earless cowl.

4. Tim has SOME sort of neurodivergence going on because my man hyperfixates like nobody's business. He literally has a page where he rambles about how something'll catch his attention and he'll get sucked into it and give it his whole focus and be unable to stop thinking about it, to the detriment of his other commitments.

5. Tim somehow manages to have a thriving social life and no social life at all, and the comic agrees with me. He regularly teams up with the Teen Titans and other Gotham Weirdos TM. He's got a civilian ally/life companion in the form of Tam Fox. He has his guy in the chair, Money Spider a.k.a. Anarky a.k.a Lonnie Machin. He's got Prudence Wood and a couple of other folks with questionable morals on his payroll. And of course, he's got Bruce. He even tells Ra's at some point, "I'm not Batman. I have friends." But he also seems to do a really good job at not telling people things and thus being isolated anyway. He doesn't really doesn't share much of his personal stuff with anyone, especially not initially, so they can't really help him with stuff or provide him with the right companionship. This is perhaps most evident in his relationship with Tam Fox, which he effectively destroys by not telling her that her father Lucius isn't actually dead, and Tim just faked it for one of his plans. He didn't even forget, he just deemed not telling her the best course of action. Both he and Batman are concerned about this.

6. Tim has MASSIVE supervillain vibes. Like, Tim would make the BEST supervillain if he hadn't decided to be so heroic. Lemme. Lemme just give you a list.

Tim has a hit list. And those aren't my words. He calls it a hit list. It's mostly supervillains, and he specifically designs his schemes so that one arrest leads directly into the next. But it also has Robin as a contingency plan and a couple of other people who are decidely not bad guys.

He's a schemer. Bruce's whole test for him involves testing how he does at improvising because Tim has a penchant for creating carefully crafted plans like some sort of maniacal supervillain. And they work pretty much every time.

Tim's subconscious mind manifests as The Riddler. Lemme explain. While Tim is in the virtual reality, Ready-Player-One-esque dark net that the supervillains have set up, his attempt to puzzle out what's going on manifests as The Riddler giving him cryptic clues. The Riddler. THE RIDDLER! This is decidedly his own doing, not the Ünternet's.

Tim keeps his morals because he promised Batman, not because he actually has those morals himself. This sounds worse than it is. It's not like he actively wishes to break his moral code, he just comments multiple times in sticky situations that he would do X thing if it wouldn't be so disappointing to Batman and other people. On multiple occassions (see, blowing up the LoA bases), he actually does X thing because he thinks it's more important than approval.

Tim has ambitions to make Gotham the leader of the world. He specifically starts a number of international outreach programs for Wayne Enterprises with making Gotham the World Hub in mind. He has other altruistic reasons, but this is the one he's most focused on. This scheme also inspires Bruce to start Batman Inc., a.k.a. the thing Bruce has been doing since his return from his vacation in the time stream. Tim acknowledges that he's the inspiration and also that Bruce does not consciously know he was inspired by Tim.

He's manipulative and will work with all kinds of people if it serves his goals. This includes unpredictable people like Anarky, dangerous people like Man Bat, and morally questionable people like Lynx and Prudence Wood. His manipulation tactics mostly come in the form of cutting off other people's options until helping him is their best choice and withholding information until sharing it suits him. Batman in the making.

You see what I mean? Kid would make a GREAT criminal mastermind. Definitely got them villain vibes.

7. F*CK YOU NEW 52. The comic ended really abruptly on an ominous note with an unfinished plot because suddenly we had to do a whole reboot of the universe. Because the New 52 SUCKS!

Batgirl Volume 3

1. *ahem* STEPHANIE BROWN IS THE BEST CHARACTER! STEPH STANS UNITE! WE RIDE AT DAWN!

2. No, but seriously. I mentioned in the general section that Stephanie is a total BAMF who also has SO much heart! I think something really unique about her is her ability to be kind to and befriend literally anyone.

She becomes tentative friends with this absolute jerk girl Jordanna who's really mean to Steph because she's possesive of her friends, who all think Steph is cool. Steph doesn't judge, presses on, and manages to get Jordanna to at least accept her, if not be actively kind to her.

It's due to Steph's efforts that Wendy Harris a.k.a. Proxy a.k.a. Oracle in Training really feels accepted in her new hero role.

Steph looked at Damian in the height of his brat era and said, "You know what this kid needs? A bouncy house! Yeah, I'mma teach him how to have fun and be a kid by forcibly taking him to a bouncy castle!"

Batgirl is noted as. . .not as legal as Batman, but she still manages to make her own police force connection.

She's helpful and chill to Klarion the Witch Boy even though, as usual, all their problems in that issue are his fault.

She beats up a dude who's trying to blow up a train, and her ability and tenacity impress him so much that he becomes the Grey Ghost and tries to help her out. She thinks it's annoying and is worried about him (rightfully so, since he gets shot), but she does listen to him.

Steph will look at almost anyone with kindness and without judgement and has an astounding capability to befriend people because of this.

3. Steph is FREAKING HILARIOUS! Steph is probably the chattiest hero, especially when she's fighting bad guys, and it is both so effective and SO funny! She'll just start totally random conversations about WHATEVER while she's busy beating people up, and it makes me cackle every time. She also literally teaches people banter and gives them turns! It's amazing! Like, I'm not sure I'd call her quippy since she's not actually usually insulting people. She's just making casual, friendly conversation at really inappropriate times for it.

4. That's not the only way she's funny, either. Steph also has "inner monologue problems" where she'll say her thoughts out loud. This becomes a running gag to the point that Babs'll continually have to tell her she's using her "outside voice." It's funny and awkward every time! And then there's her habit of paraphrasing stuff that culminates when she tells Wendy the entire batfamily history in chibi doodles with absolutely zero respect. Never fear, Stephanie is here to make you laugh!

5. Steph is a GRADE A BAD-A**! My girl will challenge anyone, get in over her head, make decisions on the fly, and still win! Technically, this is a Batman Road Home Moment, but when Batman pulls his "I'm testing people instead of telling them I'm back" BS on Steph, she b*tch slaps him and then runs away while saying "I'm glad you're not dead." Bruce's only response is Bruce-speak for "I deerved that." When literally all of Gotham turns into mind controlled zombies that are after her, she outruns them by hijacking an equally mind-controlled ManBat, wrangling him until they crash into the airport, and then hitching a ride with Proxy in the T-Jet that they barely know how to fly. This works. Even when she's getting knocked around, Steph is kicking butt, taking names, and refusing to let her frankly awful lot in life get her down.

6. Steph is an improviser. My girl almost never has a plan. She thrives on the chaos. She's far more likely to disobey orders and go in guns blazing and figure it out on the fly than waste time trying to meticulously plan out something that'll probably go wrong anyway. Like, she knows the value of planning and does it every once in a while, but I feel like Steph would win almost any fight where both parties have 0 prep time simply because she's so much better at thinking on the fly and getting herself out of scrapes than anyone else.

7. Steph doesn't follow ANYONE'S orders because she is an independent adult, dammit! At the beginning of the issue, Cassandra Cain runs off to Hong Kong and hands off the Batgirl mantle to Steph. Literally everyone she comes across gives her crap for not being Cass, tells her to stop, and thinks that she shouldn't be doing that job. Everyone from random street level goons to Barbara and Dick. Steph doesn't listen and keeps going until she finally shows off enough determination that Babs gets her head out of her ass. Even after that, Steph'll happily disregard orders from Oracle, Batman, Red Robin, her mom, the cops and anyone else who tries to boss her around if she thinks it'll help. And the best part is, she's right almost every time. Steph has good judgement. She knows when she's right, and she won't let anyone tell her different.

8. I absolutely loved the dynamics between all the members of Team Batgirl. Babs taking Steph under her wing and helping her come into her own as Batgirl is amazing. One of the sweetest moments in the whole thing is when Babs gifts Steph the original Batgirl costume (she'd been using Cass's up until that point). In turn, Steph helps Babs open up and find joy and purpose in her life again, when she'd mostly been running on spite at that point. They also are so in sync with each other that it's hilarious. My favorite example is, in a situation that is getting progressively worse, Babs and Steph have the exact same inner monologue: "Crap. DOUBLE crap." It only gets better when Wendy's around, with Steph and Babs connecting to her issues each in their own way. It's beautiful and really helps Wendy grow as a person and heal her heart.

9. Steph needs to do more team ups with people. Yes, she's fantastic and compelling by herself, but she becomes downright marvelous when she's got someone to bounce off of, and her natural friendliness makes her a good pick for team ups. One of my favorite issues was definitely the one where she hung out with Kara and they beat up vampires together. It was adorable.

10. F*CK YOU NEW 52! WHY DID YOU TAKE THIS FROM ME?! WTF!

Batman: The Road Home

1. I only really read this one for context on what was going on in Batgirl and Red Robin, but I do have a couple thoughts.

2. Alfred and Co. have basically kidnapped Hush a.k.a. Thomas Elliot and are holding him hostage in a penthouse. They force him to do appearances as Bruce Wayne while Bruce is still missing, and he is soooooooo salty about this. This is objectively funny.

3. Vicki Vale is actually a really cool character who deserves better. A bit lacking in the common sense and self-preservation departments, but cool nonetheless. She's pushy and invasive and catty, but she is good at her job and I would be just as irritated as her if I had fallen as far from grace as her.

3. Bruce, you're an a**hole. You wanna tell people you're home instead of putting them through insane tests of skill and character while disguised as some random and possibly malevolent vigilante? They GRIEVED you! Some of them are probably STILL grieving! Give Dick a hug dammit!

4. Ra's, you're a creepy weirdo. Go back to brooding in your vampire box now please!

The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller

1. These books are REALLY FREAKING GOOD. I know, who woulda thought, seeing as how it's one of the most popular and talked about Batman comics ever. But seriously. You should read these. I was reluctant to do so, since a lot of people were like "Oh it's Frank Miller, he's edgy, and his Batman has all the tired edgy Batman tropes." I'm sorry, you don't see him using guns, you don't see him killing anyone, you don't see him being a terrible person. This Batman NEEDS a therapist. Desperately. But he's also still a good person. This is ACTUALLY cool edgy Batman, where his issues are used to create a more compelling narrative, not the "cool" edgy Batman that operates under the "grimdark is cool" principle.

2. I almost cried a couple times! This comic has an overwhelming melancholy feel that I just really enjoyed. Everything and everyone feels tired and sad. Everyone. The best part is that this comic is told primarily from Bruce's perspective and Bruce is SO empathetic and caring, that he feels not only his own melancholy, but everybody else's too, and it's so effective! I think the best example is when Two-Face, recently released from Arkham, goes full relapse and Batman is forced to tie him up and leave him for the cops. He looks at Harvey and just goes "That's a kindred spirit, and I feel for him."

3. The story is told interspersed with TV stations and news radio fighting and bickering and reporting. Nobody is quite sure what to make of the Batman situation, and almost all of them feel negatively about it. The only reporter who actually seems in support of Batman is Lana Lang, and she's also one of the few people who feels RATIONAL during the comic. Like, everybody is reacting very poorly and with panic and contempt towards Batman's return, and it really really isn't helpful. You get this feeling of "it's us against the world," and it really contributes to the vibes.

4. Bruce is an old man. He's technically only 55, but a lifetime of fighting crime, trying (and failing to quit), and becoming dependent on alcohol to keep away the nightmares and the call to dress up as The Rodent of Vengeance will seriously mess up your body. Every time he gets in a fight, he is extremely conscious of how slow he is, how much more he can feel each hit, how much of an advantage all of the youngsters he's fighting have on him. It's to the point that he literally has to plan around his old age and failing body.

5. Alfred is PEAK SASSY in here, and it's beautiful! I actually think this might have the best characterization of Alfred, like, ever. He loves Bruce. That's his kid. Not his master. His kid. He's not gonna leave him alone. But, he also has too much dedication to his role as "butler" to actually stop him from doing anything STUPID, so he resorts to just sassing the man RUTHLESSLY instead. And for all the sass he gives Bruce about being Batman, he's also just as deep into this weird lifestyle. The highlight is definitely Alfred telling Bruce after the first night out that if it's suicide he's after, Alfred has an old family recipe that will be just as slow and excruciating, but less illegal.

6. Commissioner Gordon does not, never has, and never will get paid enough for dealing with this. Commissioner Yindel has no idea what steaming pile of sh*t she's just stepped into, and Gordon tried to warn her. Gordon, even though he continues to not particularly approve, remains one of Batman's staunchest allies through the whole thing. It's actually really heartwarming to see their "brothers in arms" thing they've got going.

7. OHMIGOSH CARRIE KELLEY! That is one AMAZING Robin right there!

Do you know how she becomes Robin? She sees Gordon turn on the batsignal, and she's ✨inspired✨ She saves up two weeks of lunch money, buys a Robin costume, grabs a slingshot and some fireworks, and starts fighting criminals and discreetly following Batman around. Like, that's just some sheer tenacity right there! My girl has moxie! She has grit! She has heart! She's the perfect Robin!

Anytime I do stuff with Carrie Kelley, I will be including the fireworks. Her first act as Robin is to stick a firecracker in a mugger's back pocket. Seriously.

Her first thing she does with Batman is to follow him to a really dangerous fight, find him at the end, drag his unconscious, broken body back to the batmobile, splints his arm with her girl scout training, and get him back to Alfred so he doesn't DIE! Batman, already feeling extremely sad because he misses Dick, decides to train her and take her on.

Poor Carrie! Her parents are awful! Like, they don't remember they have a kid level awful! Being with Bruce might be child endangerment, and he might be a quiet stoic bastard who keeps threatening to fire her, but at least he acknowledges her existence!

Carrie, my darling, my dear, my sweet baby girl, I don't understand HALF the stuff that comes out of your mouth! You and your 80s slang. Sweet mercy.

8. I think this universe had a. . .um. . . Marvel Civil War thing. Like, the whole thing is that Superman works for the government, invisibly, instead of publicly. He has to follow their orders, and he doesn't like it, but it does mean he still gets to save people. Oliver/Green Arrow apparently didn't listen and is rotting in jail (Bruce has to bust him out in the last issue). It's implied to be, along with the death of Jason, the thing that made Batman quit. Now that he's back, the whole government is NOT HAPPY about it. They mostly just try to ignore him with "not my circus, not my monkeys," but, the president does sic Clark on him to try to talk him down. Clark predicts that this'll go badly, but tries anyway. His prediction is correct.

9. Poor Selina! You didn't deserve that. TBH, nobody except Joker deserves what happens to them in this book. It's all just really tragic and sad.

10. Bruce is a deeply unwell man in this comic. Like, he definitely seems at his most emotionally healthy and lucid while he's being Batman, but that kind of obsessive drive clearly isn't good for him, mentally or physically. He's kind of just, purposeless and slipping away before he takes up the cowl, and afterwards, he is so so sad and feels like he's succumbed to his worst impulses. It's a lose lose lose situation for him. Poor dude.

11. F*ck you Joker. 'Nuff said. Stay dead this time please.

12. Batman, you've emotionally adopted Carrie. I know you're actively doing child endangerment and stuff, but you care about this little girl. You can stop referring to her as "good soldier."

13. The shot of Batman on the horse makes me want to write a Wild West AU of Batman, because that was a vibe and a half!

14. Just go read this one, seriously, it's good.

TL;DR

I know I didn't put in a segment on Batgirls, but I wanna finish that one first! It'll probably get it's own post!

Basically, this post boils down to:

Batfam comics are really great. I like reading the comics. At least the outdated ones that I was reading.

Steph is the best, put some respect on her name.

Comic books are funny.

Comics are heartwarming.

Tim has supervillain vibes and sad wet cat vibes at the same time.

The Dark Knight Returns is really sad and really good.

F*CK THE NEW 52!

That's all I've got for you! I still gonna be stewing on these for DAYS, but this at least helped get it out of my system. Now go read some comic books!