#i desperately want to make better connections to people

[5five5five5five5five5five]

please old man/bookclub five headcanons, I loved ur last post about him!

hope you're feeling okay :]

Gasp!

I'm going to assume normal bookclub bc idk what s4 "bookclub" is. But I can totally ramble off about him in a casual club for books.

*he reads the books too fast and gets more peeved at the others who end up going very very slow. If someone doesn't finish a book, he admittly makes a comment "why are you in a book club if you can't finish a book is beyond me but-" old man shrug. It's not a fight worth having, he's just being a dick.

* brings the members strawberries and other fresh produce when he can. He likes showing off the stuff he grows and brings snacks.

*gets REALLY into the books. It's like he gets a micro fandom to be in every month. He reads it though like 3 times and then listens to the audio book once. Looks up if there's anything else. Maybe even discovers fanfiction...but he tries not to get that desperate.....he's read a few for particularly addictive books.

*has given a huge ramble about how the Great Gatsby would have been better and a lot of stuff settled if Gatsby and caraway kissed. He does it so casually too like he's not trying to make a progressive point or spark bigger queer discussion. He just genuinely thinks that's the answer to the book. More man kissing.

* speaking of, the more queer books they end up reading, the more he questions his everything. He probably has gone up to Viktor about stuff in these books and try to weasel out a "no it's not like that. Your totally a normal cishet man five." but neh it's ALWAYS "yeah that seems very realistic to the queer existence. Why so curious?" And he ends up not being able to admit he connects with said books. Viktor knows but he's not going to hound his brother any time soon. Five knows once he leaves the closet,there's people waiting to be supportive.

*the old ladies there can't stop babying him. He tries very hard to be as old man and as mature as he can but they don't listen and pinch his cheeks and pat his head. He is trying to do less sudden grandma wrist breaking to he takes it for the most part. They can be wrong. He will keep doing what he does. And he hates to admit the attention from women in his age range is nice. Sad he can't make any moves.

* for the holidays the bookclub goes caroling. Five isn't a fan but tags along. They most likely end up at one of his siblings houses and he gets cold feet. They can't see him in a dorky sweater and singing. Last Christmas he threw a fit about sweaters. But if he doesn't move, the club will leave him in the snow. Ruthless old farts.

Allison answers the door. Around 5 old people, 4 local parents and......five??? They stare daggers at eachother as five poorly sings oh holy night with the group. Then leaves. The other members noticed the tension but didn't want to say much.

*Lila tried to join once to get 'in' with the parents that are involved but was so booooored. "Five, no one should be having this much fun talking this much about a book. Period. Im almost concerned that you have finally gone senial."

*if five didn't like a book, he makes a PowerPoint on why and how. He is very detailed in his opinions. He wishes the others would do the same but no body can match his freak.

*he brings mr. Pennycrumb with him bc service dog and everyone there loves him.

* I think everyone assumes five is just a very lonely mentally or physically ill young man and try there best to be nice. He isn't fond of there borderline pity but he enjoys there company none the less.

* Diana from the PTA makes the best lemon cookies. Five eats more than he should.

*on top of book club, they like to take outings together to walk around and see the community. Do easy elderly friendly geocashes and eat at local cafes. Five likes when they go to the library because then they can snoop around for more books.

I hope you like these :3

[jewishvitya]

A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.

So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.

Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.

When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.

One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"

He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."

And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.

I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.

So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.

Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.

But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?

All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.

I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.

This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.

In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.

One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.

Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.

Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."

In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.

On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.

In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.

[spiritpaw]

i'm in this strange predicament where i don't think i'll find the friends i want in the town i live, but i can't have all my social interactions be online either? 'cause i need irl good times too.

i think i'm going to commit to local town adventures like once a week, but focus on internet adventures outside of that. daily walks sound good too. balances out all the... sit 'n scolling.

[jaewritesfic]

Melon!AU Part 2

If it had been anyone but Cass to suggest it, Bruce is certain that both Damian and Tim would have responded with an immediate and vehement, Are you insane?!

But it is Cass. It's Cass, so Damian makes a choked sound and bites out, “Help. The Pit Demon?”

Similarly, Tim chokes out, “I don't know about that one, Black Bat. I mean- it's- it looks-”

“Judging books?” Cass asks through comms, a gentle disapproval in her tone that rivals Alfred’s in effectiveness. Bruce himself feels a little cowed by it.

Diplomacy had not, after all, been on his mind before his daughter spoke up.

He should know better than to make assumptions, especially if she's right and the creature isn't as hostile as it seems.

That's still a very big if.

“Commissioner,” Bruce says lowly, turning his head. Gordon is lingering near the roof access stairway, having come up to brief them but seeming reluctant to even look down on the creature in the alley. “Have there been any casualties? Injuries?”

Jim falters, uncharacteristically rattled. Bruce can't blame him - there's a low level dread and an unsettling feeling just being in the same vicinity as the creature, and that's as a seasoned vigilante. Someone who faces death down regularly.

“Uh. No. No, it uh- it took some swipes at people who got too close, but it didn't connect. We backed off pretty fast and called you as soon as possible.”

Bruce blinks. “Not even any blood drawn?”

Gordon shakes his head. “Damn miracle. The thing is fast and those claws are vicious.”

He hears Cass hum into the comms, and he understands exactly why.

The thing in the alley is built to do damage. He has his doubts it was any kind of miracle that made it ‘miss’ any of the swipes it took.

Trying to scare them off indeed.

“Black Bat. What exactly are you reading off the creature?”

“Looking for exits. Desperate. Overwhelmed.”

Bruce hums. “Being cornered and desperate will make anyone or anything dangerous. We need to proceed carefully here. Even if it doesn't want to hurt anyone, that doesn't mean it won't if it thinks it has no other-”

The shadow that is Cass shifts in his periphery, and he looks up to the opposite roof just in time to bark, “Do not-!” as Cass steps off the roof and flips down into the alley.

Why are his kids so determined to give him a stroke?

Dick vaults up over the edge of the roof to join he and Tim, saying, “I'm here, what's-”

He cuts off and claps his hands over his ears with everyone else when the creature shrieks at Black Bat's unexpected arrival.

“Black Bat,” Bruce grits out, heart in his throat as he peers over the edge with ringing ears. “Retreat back to the rooftops now.”

One tap to the comm. No.

Bruce grits his teeth, fighting not to show his anxiety. It's not like Cass to refuse orders. Hell, he can't remember her ever disobeying an order in the field so blatantly.

The low warning noise the creature is making now is almost as bad as the shriek. Something about it sets off every alarm bell in his brain, like it was never meant to be heard by human ears. Almost a growl, almost a moan, something celestial and unfathomable.

Cass doesn't back up or get any closer. She raises a hand slowly in a little wave and says, “Hello.”

If it were possible to startle a fax machine, it would probably sound like the creature does as it jerks and snaps its mouth shut in surprise, lamplight eyes going huge and round.

Masterpost

[mrsbarnesblog]

bathroom break

masterlist ko-fi ao3

requests are open

summary: when at the party you hear some girls talking about your boyfriend, you decide to show them who he belongs to

word count: 1.5k

warnings: established relationship, semi-public sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, marking

“Get up.” The laughter around the guys’ circle died as you stepped into their space, only interested in your boyfriend’s attention. 

“What?” Rafe looked up at your pouty face, arching a brow. “You wanna go home, baby?” His arm wrapped around the back of your thighs, bringing you closer to him. 

“No. I just need to do something. It won’t take too long.” Everyone in the group looked at each other with knowing smirks and Rafe’s face lit up. You didn’t even bat an eye at the murmurs and snickers from his friends—you simply didn’t care if they knew. Rafe allowed you to take his hand in yours and tug you in some random direction through the random people that flooded the house. 

“Now what are you doing, baby, hm?” He asked as soon as the door of the bathroom behind you closed and you quickly locked it. 

“These bitches were talking about fucking you right in front of me; can you imagine? Especially the one who gave me dirty looks the whole time, 'cause she knows that we're together. I asked them to shut the fuck up but they didn’t listen, so I guess I have to mark my territory.” You shamelessly grabbed the buckle of Rafe’s belt, dragging him closer to you. You jumped up on the sink, allowing him to stand in between your legs as you quickly undone his jeans. 

“Mark your territory? Am I your territory now?” He teased, placing his own hands on your thighs, squeezing the plush skin and allowing you to do what you needed to. Watching your angry and pissed-off expression with a sly smirk, Rafe tugged on your skirt until it fully exposed the dump material of your panties.

“Yeah, you are, Cameron. Your heart, your body and your dick are mine, you got it? Just fuck me and make them bitches jealous.” 

“You sound so hot, for fuck’s sake.” 

You finally handled his clothes, pushing both layers down his legs and allowing his already hard cock spring free. Your hand wrapped around the base, giving it a few pups, and the other slid under the t-shirt, scratching his toned abs.

“Baby…” Rafe groaned, his head fell forward, nestling in the crook of your neck and his grip on your legs became tighter. His hips started pushing forward, looking for more. “Need to be inside or I’m gonna cum all over your hand.”

Burying your hand in the hair at the nape of his neck, you yanked his head away from you until you were able to connect your lips. Rafe quickly pulled himself together, as usual, dominating over you. The kiss was pure lust, with your tongues dancing around each other in a desperate attempt to get more.  

Your legs wrapped around Rafe’s hips, pushing him closer to your body. The only barrier that separated his cock from your greedy cunt were your painties. Rafe rubbed his big finger over the wet material, moaning in your mouth at the feeling. Then, he simply pushed the fabric to the side before putting his leaking tip at your entrance and sliding in. 

“Fuck me, Rafe.” You moaned. Your eyes rolled back with your mouth hanging open at the feeling of him bottoming out deep inside of you. Even with your slightly blurry gaze, you saw your tinted lipgloss smudged all over Rafe’s face, which he didn’t seem to care to wipe. 

As his cock started sliding in and out of your pussy, making your ass slide on the slick counter, you gripped the back of his neck to bring his body closer and put your lips on his skin. 

When you said that you wanted to mark him, you meant it quite literally. 

Biting and sucking on the tender skin of Rafe’s neck while he was basically splitting you in half made you even hornier. He slightly tilted his head to the side so you could have better access to him, and he held your legs in place around his body while brutally fucking you into the counter. 

The sound of slapping and both of your moans echoed in the small room. It smelled like sex, you felt a wet mess under your ass, but it was the least of your concerns. 

You pulled away, admiring your work. Dark red hickeys covered the side of Rafe’s neck, but the look in his eyes was what truly made you go dumb. His lustful eyes were focused on your plump and wet lips. He mirrored the way your mouth was slightly opened, breathing heavily and not even trying to cover the groans. 

“You like it? You like it when everyone knows that I’m fuckin’ you here? I bet they can hear it too.” He rasped, wrapping his hand around your throat and pulling your face closer. Your pussy spasmed around his thick cock, making it harder for him to push in. 

“Mh– Rafe!” You squeaked, not even knowing what you wanted to actually say. Your brain was not working at that moment. It was just Rafe, Rafe, Rafe and the overwhelming feeling of him everywhere. 

“You shouldn’t be jealous of other girls talking about fucking me, because the only girl my dick is happy to see is you.” To prove his point, he pushed even harder into you, his pelvis meeting your clit with every movement, making your lips part in a silent moan. “But I ain’t complaining if I have to prove it to you by fucking you dumb, baby.”

“Don’t stop, j-just don’t stop.” As your orgasm began to crush over you, you trembled, gripping his shoulders and digging your nails into the material of his shirt.

“Yeah, that’s right, baby. Squeeze your pussy like that and I’m gonna mark you too.” With a hand around your throat and the tip of Rafe’s cock hitting your cervix, you cried out loud as your orgasm washed over you. Rafe’s thrusts, now more limited by your legs tightly locked around his waist, started getting more sloppy until you felt a sudden wave of warmth flooding you. He held himself deep, making sure to give you everything that he had, as his abdominal muscles flexed. You both moaned at the feeling of him cumming inside, looking down to the place where you two were connected to see his cock still slowly pushing into you, now glistering with your mixed cum. 

“We should do this more.” Rafe’s head fell on your shoulder and he breathed in your scent. “I mean, more of you getting jealous and trying to claim me, y’know?” He kissed your jaw, then moved away and pulled out of you. The smirk on his face when he saw his seed leaking out of your pussycat made you clench around nothing and whine at the empty feeling. “If I have to walk with your hickeys, then you’ll get your cute panties full of my cum, got it?” He moved your underwear back to it’s place and dragged you to the floor. 

“Oh– Wow.” You laughed, looking up at your boyfriend and gripping his forearm when your legs didn’t seem to work properly. It felt all jelly and numb, but Rafe just smirked again, leaning closer to you and kissing you deeply. 

Ten more minutes later, which you mostly spent on making out and debating to fuck again, you went back to Rafe’s friends’ circle, and the loud whistles were the first thing that you heard. The dark hickeys, your swollen lips and your not-so-neatly-looking dress were speaking for themselves, not to mention the cockiest look on Rafe’s face.

He sat back at his previous place, but instead of letting you join your girlfriends, he pulled your hand until you were sitting sideways on his lap. He now looked unbothered by all of the looks by other people, as his hands found their place on your hips and his attention was solemnly focused on your happy and glowing face. No one dared to say a word to you or actually comment on you sneaking out for a quickie, already learning the hard way that Rafe wouldn’t hesitate to punch someone in the face for it. 

You pecked Rafe’s lips, resting your head on his shoulder and enjoying the warmth of his big body. Then the girl who talked about Rafe all night caught your attention. The look of annoyance and anger on her face as she started complaining about something to her friends made you actually feel proud of yourself. When you, smirking, mouthed “mine” back to her, she puffed her lips, turning away and not looking in your direction for the rest of the night. 

[httpwintersoldier]

opla men hc || when there's sexual tension between you and them

ᴢᴏʀᴏ ; ᴍɪʜᴀᴡᴋ ; ʟᴜғғʏ ; sᴀɴᴊɪ ; sʜᴀɴᴋs ; ʙᴜɢɢʏ ᴄᴡ: ɴᴏ sᴘᴇᴄɪғɪᴄs

ᴢᴏʀᴏ

⤷ zoro can't place a finger on what it is he's feeling, he just knows he's feeling something

⤷ and that something substantially increases when you're near

⤷ it especially increases when you wear tight clothes and little dresses

⤷ it wasn't until you placed a hand on his thigh and got him thinking where he really wanted that hand that he pieced everything together

⤷ he would try to calm himself down and ignore the feeling but he would eventually just give up

⤷ zoro wouldn't talk to you or confront you about the issue - that's not his style

⤷ the swordsman would just touch you a little more and a little closer to the places he shouldn't have his eyes on

⤷ and eventually you'd give in and make a move - he would definitely make you think the whole thing was your idea, that he hadn't been teasing on purpose you for the longest time

⤷ "you're better than I've been imagining..."

ᴍɪʜᴀᴡᴋ

⤷ he's a very intense person, and he gets what he wants

⤷ so when he set his eyes on you and felt the heavy air in the room whenever you two were together he knew you wanted him as badly as he wanted you

⤷ but mihawk wanted to see you work for it

⤷ he would touch you and whisper in your ear, he would say things in a sexual manner on purpose to get you to blush while thinking improper things in front of him

⤷ mihawk would only be satisfied when you were desperate and begging for him, even if that meant he had to wait - he was a masochist, that was for sure

⤷ "when you're ready to beg for me I'd be more than delighted to bend you over on this table and fuck you"

ʟᴜғғʏ

⤷ luffy, like zoro, wouldn't really know what the funny feeling he got in his body when he was around you meant

⤷ but one sure thing was that he always felt like something pulled him towards you whenever you entered the room

⤷ he wouldn't be able to stop himself from touching you, sometimes inappropriately

⤷ luffy and social cues weren't a match, so whenever he'd feel like it he would sneak his arms around you and grab your tits, or sneak his hand up your skirt when he got a peek of your ass

⤷ and you didn't stop him, of course

⤷ you'd scold him in a pathetic attempt to pretend you somehow disliked it, but the combo of his innocent face and dirty hands roaming your body excited you

⤷ "but y/n your tits are so soft... and it makes me feel good when I touch you"

sᴀɴᴊɪ

⤷ sanji swears up and down that he has a connection with everyone - but he swears just as hard that it's different with you

⤷ you even begin to think that you might be the only person on the face of the earth sanji didn't flirt with

⤷ what you didn't know was that sanji's head was so occupied with thoughts of everything he wanted to do to you that any and every word meant for you would get stuck in his throat

⤷ it would get to the point where you'd actually go and ask him

⤷ and boy would sanji have to restrain himself

⤷ seeing you all sweet, shy and adorable... looking at the ground as you asked if he disliked you, just basically yearning for his approval... it took everything in him not to fuck you dumb in the very hallway you stood

⤷ "oh chéri, you've got it all wrong... it's not that I hate you, it's that I really want to fuck you"

sʜᴀɴᴋs

⤷ your and shanks' sexual tension would be there from day one

⤷ when he wants something, he wants it - and he gets it

⤷ it was just a matter of when you'd give in and let him fuck you

⤷ but shanks was subtle, he wanted you to want him, shanks would never ask someone to fuck him, let alone beg - he would work his magic and the people he wanted would come crawling

⤷ you were no different

⤷ it would start with small touches that would progressively get more and more bold - the hand on the small of your back would brush past your ass when he passed by, the kisses on the cheek as a greeting were so close to your lips he might as well just kiss you and half of the things shanks told you were whispered in your ear, with a hand holding your jaw

⤷ you'd find yourself leaning more and more into his touch, slowly yearning that his actions became more bold, that shanks would grab your ass, that he'd make out with you and that he'd put his pretty mouth to good use somewhere else

⤷ "Come take a seat on my lap, princess, you might want to extend your stay on it and all... just not with any clothes on"

ʙᴜɢɢʏ

⤷ unlike most above, buggy does not beat around the bush

⤷ when he wants something he wants it in that moment and it will either happen the good way or the bad way

⤷ but this time he was sure the glances you stole and the way your hand would brush past several of his body parts was not a coincidence, and that the heavy air wasn't humidity - you definitely wanted him too

⤷ buggy would smack your ass and squeeze your body as you passed by, hissing when you teased him back

⤷ he didn't care if people saw it, he wanted to feel you and he was going to feel you until he got you alone so he could fill you up - and he was impatient

⤷ "if you're not in my room tonight I will find you and fuck you wherever you are, and whoever is nearby will be our audicence. I'm sure they will enjoy your pretty noises"

[fondcrimes]

the "labru chapter" is the kabru chapter

this is a dungeon meshi love manifesto, but not in the way you think. sorry not sorry for the labrubait

what makes chapter 76 so amazing is kabru’s desperation has little to do with laios specifically. it’s not just about kabru being obsessed with laios and making sure he doesn't cause tragedy, either. I think this chapter emphasizes kabru's struggle with the concept of love and companionship. the point of this chapter is that every critical part of kabru collides at once and renders him useless.

(disclaimer: this post includes a lot of projection/speculation but it's to understand kabru's character arc i promise. for clearer analysis and examination of how kabru's ideologies are constructed, check out this really great post)

kabru is a lone visionary

in ch 76, kabru’s threatened by lycion exposing his true intentions to laios not only bc he wants to prevent laios from joining marcille in her destruction, but also bc laios is also from a short-lived race and kabru needs an ally in his power struggle against elves (esp when the chips are down)

but has kabru really accepted his need for allies in his plight? kabru has spent his adult life suppressing a human urge to connect meaningfully with others. he even keeps rinsha et al. at arm's length in the name of achieving his masculine hero complex/survivor's guilt goals. he's already quite disillusioned bc most adventurers don't have the same goal as he does. so he uses people and gets on their good side for systematic support. he’s well-intentioned and takes care of his party. but the idea that an ally could also protect HIM and make HIM feel safe as well doesn’t really register with him until later on in the narrative bc camaraderie and allyship, at its core, is about acknowledging intimacy. kabru struggles with intimacy sub-textually (his self-neglect and social insincerity) even though he knows how to simulate it to gain others' trust.

but he can’t crack laios, he can’t get him to listen. for lack of a better word, kabru is spoiled by the fruits of his superb perception and emotional intelligence. he also doesn’t cope well with failure (bc his goal is too valuable to ~not~ devote himself to) he puts too much value in conquering laios and when he thinks he's failed, he basically crashes out. the real problem is he still doesn’t understand his true feelings--not feelings for laios, but the root of his desire. the root of his goals and the endless search for companionship.

kabru is a strategic historian

at his core, kabru is a storyteller. he tells himself a variety of stories about his trauma and his goals, which serve as motivation and to some extent, self-protection (as shown in his conversation w mithrun). he deeply understands the role of storytelling in regards to the construction of history and drastic shifts in power.

as an utayan, he understands that the tragedy that overcame his people was not random, but resulted from elven negligence of a disenfranchised people. it is imperative for kabru to cement himself as a voice for otherwise voiceless people. in his story, he has no choice but to handle the hero, if not become the hero himself.

kabru even has a story about his pursuit of laios, mainly that laios is currently the most capable person of defeating the mage and that he must do whatever it takes to ensure laios doesn’t fuck it up. his instincts are right, sure, but at first, he places special value in laios’ capabilities that almost seems unearned… like yes he’s studied the island adventurers with frightening expertise, so it makes sense he would have a good idea about who is the most equipped to succeed. but his early suspicions of the toudens seems to complicate my perception of his knowledge by adding emotional depth and a layer of tinhattery so to speak.

canonically, kabru has been rebuffed by laios multiple times (which is so... lolll) when he's talking with his party, kabru hides behind the excuse of dungeon but he’s been trying to get his attention this whole time. to me it reads like he's got a bruised ego from being ignored and is being a hater about it (so real lol). it's funny bc kabru is usually great at taking shit from others (esp elves) if it means nobody suspects/interrogates his true intentions and he can keep the peace. so why does laios tick him off so bad? now we have to get into the psychoanalysis of it all!

kabru is a cynic

first and foremost, kabru’s cynical philosophy about humans is challenged by the touden mission. but plenty of people don’t care about the impact of their actions, so why does kabru obsess over the toudens at the start? I figured kui changed gears with kabru's characterization following his introduction, but I want to try to connect it to kabru's unresolved survivor's guilt. kabru is the sole survivor of a catastrophe caused by negligence and oversight. he criticizes the negative impact of the toudens' generosity and naïveté and confirms his cynical worldview (the road to hell is paved with best intentions), but still maintains a level-headed perspective. on the other hand, kabru's interactions with laios are tinged with irrational jealousy/resentment/desperation, even prior to kabru learning laios' character/intentions as an adventurer. I cannot emphasize enough that I am employing a neutral definition of jealousy here--it seems kabru is jealous of the freedom to not care the way laios does not care about the fate of the island. this isn't to say laios doesn't care about humans, he does, but he seems so singleminded compared to kabru esp in ch 76. kabru sees laios going to the literal end of the world to save his sister. laios gets to be human selfishly, kind-natured but ultimately self-prioritizing.

kabru correctly assesses motives (besides his own maybe). falin said she’d do anything to protect laios and marcille. laios has been socially rejected by people his whole life, and at first, he only cares about his sister and monsters. kabru has survived horror but only by accident… he doesn't agree with their pov and more importantly, it doesn’t exactly compute with him. the toudens are wholly unaware of their impact, which does not sit well with kabru at all, who understands the impact of negligence better than anyone else, esp how it ends up harming the less fortunate and extremely marginalized in society. it's reminiscent of the age-old trolley problem. while kabru has been the victim of senseless pain, I suspect kabru can’t yet make sense of senseless love. he gets to look down at their cause and call it selfish because it directly contradicts his lived experience.

kabru is an ethicist with a heroic streak

it's easy to glean that kabru wants to be the hero utaya should’ve had. while he's hardcore and intense, but not paranoid enough to do something rash. he uses violence as a means of achieving peace. he's self-aware enough to know his skill limits, which seems rational at a glance but the pressure he puts on himself suggests he views himself as inadequate until he achieves his goal. the races of humans are so split up and he sees that this is a matter of power first and foremost.

with the canaries, kabru submits to political pageantry to make a separate case for innocent people. senseless tragedy is unforgivable, but so is the "too little too late" reality of the canary system. he takes on the impossible task of rallying people together to save the dungeon. one read is that he's saving his childhood self from trauma perhaps by saving those like him… he's wishing someone did something before it got bad, wondering why nobody intervened when they had every opportunity to step in. it’s deeper than a sense of duty or fairness, this is about betrayal and retribution.

throughout his life, kabru struggles with the material inequity and limits of love. the human population is fundamentally segmented into a hierarchy due to lifespans and access to power/resources. his mother was the only one who loved him in utaya and she was ostracized because of his appearance and then she was killed due to senseless tragedy. his frustration with the elves encapsulates this idea perfectly, because he is aware of of the limits of their empathy as a long-lived race and adjusts his strategy and rhetoric accordingly. I think milsiril’s love for kabru is genuine, but still infantilizing and smothering due to the racial imbalance. this continues to inform his politics, as he views their perception of short-lived races with contempt. the worst offense is that their bigotry is nonsensical, meaning their hearts cannot be reasoned with.

dungeon meshi is a story about power and politics, yes, but genuine love and acceptance are the catalysts of change and equality. the "invisible gulf" that marcille is referring to is the inability to view other races with love and care. such is the essence of camaraderie. kabru's backstory, family history, and beliefs/motivations raise two important questions for me: who gets to be loved enough to survive, and then to thrive?

kabru is a monster

the emphasis on distinguishing between humans and monsters is quite interesting too. of all sentient beings, who qualifies as worthy of "human" treatment? who deserves empathy and acceptance? kabru seeks these answers to fix the world, but also to justify his place in it.

kabru's lack of self-worth is evident here, but what’s more interesting is he knows many humans suffer worse fates than some monsters. the dehumanization/neglect of fellow humans does not compute, if the premise is humans are superior to demi-humans/non-humans because mutual empathy and understanding. he clings to the superiority of humanity as an appeal to ethos to those in power despite what he might actually believe about himself. to kabru, the true injustice is that humans won’t even save “inferior” humans despite being the same. his unclear heritage manifests as guilt, as he feels directly responsible for his mother's suffering because he is monstrous. then here comes laios, a human who somehow can find it in himself to love monsters.

kabru doesn’t want laios to love him, per se, but laios’ love for monsters and for falin reveals life-altering possibilities for kabru: there is a world where someone could love him even if he were a monster. there is a world where somebody would go to extreme measures just to save him. kabru does not know the extent of laios' trauma but recognizes a sort of kindred spirit but inverse. taking off the ship goggles here--it has less to do with laios specifically, and more to do with what his beliefs/abilities represent for the trajectory of the world (because kabru studies how beliefs/abilities manifest into material reality, after all)

kabru is seeking the power of love

in a different story, kabru would be laios’ archnemesis. they would have a disastrous battle of opposing worldviews in their struggle for dominion. kabru has every right to want to take laios out bc while his affinity for monsters is sympathetic and even charming, it is still a natural threat… kabru has the true hero pathology. he believes he only deserves to live if he can save people for a variety of reasons/traumas. he should do whatever it takes to exterminate laios. but the expectation is subverted in chapter 76 bc we see kabru’s curiosity and ongoing quest for understanding win over his worst fears.

I feel like I’ve been projecting a lot but bear with me... a huge part of kabru’s character is him trying to figure out how to matter to people, or figuring out why people matter to others in general. it’s not to say he doesn’t matter to his friends or milsiril, but why else would he bother with all the manipulative people-pleasing? it would be less meaningful if he had ulterior motives like greed or power, but he plays into people's expectations/desires for a disastrously noble cause. he’s still actively living in his trauma as a deeply traumatized adult. it’s pure serendipity that laios can send him right back to his past and then pull him right out again. I don't think it's crazy to say kabru (correctly) projects a lot of shit on laios bc he doesn’t know how to deal with those injustices and barriers between people himself.

this is also why I believe kabru's beef with laios is as personal as it is strategic. we have to consider the trajectories of their character arcs (their big missions, respectively) in relation to one another as foils. if laios' love for falin can move mountains and do impossible things, kabru is subconsciously drawn to the magnitude of that love like a magnet. his response to cognitive dissonance is quite remarkable as well. at the root of his unbelievable capacity for understanding and curiosity is the deep wound of being unloved and unprotected. kabru does not avoid or run away from his fears, he quite literally keeps running toward them and follows it down to hell. he wants to identify the true source of his deepest wound.

to me, this omake connects his childhood curiosity to his search for love, almost as to ask “is there enough room for me to be loved?" and the same can be said for marcille's character arc/ backstory. her biracial heritage has caused her great existential pain and social isolation.

in dungeon meshi, the issues of protection and justice continue to be interpreted through love. if kabru were to go back in time and save utaya, he would’ve needed incomprehensible magic, a supernatural power to save himself, his mother, his hometown. in contrast, laios' mission to save falin is just one manifestation of the surreality of love, all of the impossibilities it permits. the touden party wade through invisible gulfs to save falin, but also each other. kabru doesn’t hate their story, he just can’t fathom it yet.

kabru is a skilled strategist and communicator. and does not listen to his heart or body until he’s absolutely forced to do it. he has insane goals and expectations for himself and will go to great measures for those goals. as cerebral and cold as he might seem, it’s critical to understand that his character arc is about love too. in my opinion, it’s almost as if he’s trying to change his reality in hopes of finding love. my favorite thing about kabru is that he has all the narrative makings of the perfect misunderstood villain who self-destructs at the end of the story. but kabru is too smart for that, too focused on the big-picture impacts and the historical trajectory of the cause. instead, kabru finds the wherewithal to stand down once he understands that laios is capable of loving humanity like he does, or that he could help him see the value in humanity at all.

to love is to understand, and then to surrender.

[emmafrostyyy]

y'all sleeping on Astarion/Lae'zel bc this moment is so...the way the flippant demeanor drops and he doesn't hesitate to call her out for sticking with her version of Cazador like their relationship is so underrated fr...

sitting down writing this bullshit like let me peel it like an onion a bit and elaborate why this pairing is fascinating to me

It's really interesting how during the most cathartic, life-altering moment in Astarion's questline, the reactions of the other companions are more about the moral wrongness/guilt of sacrificing innocent lives. Lae'zel doesn't do that and instead relates to his hurt.

She knows what's he's feeling, the lack of control, the unfairness of being powerless for too long. This is a woman who just found out her entire life purpose was built on lies, discarded and hunted by her own people after outliving her usefulness, and groomed to basically die for an insane power-hungry lich queen. She knows all too well that power isn't always real freedom. Her first instinct is to empathize with Astarion to steer him away from his hate and resentment.

Astarion/Lae'zel is so interesting to me because they're such a classic "can we make each other worse or make a better person out of the other?".

They both have genuine appreciation for violence and respect each other's ruthlessness. Astarion was used as a weapon of seduction while Lae'zel was of warfare. Sex with people is meaningless and not real intimacy for them, and while both have little understanding/experience of interpersonal relationships beyond the physical, they still feel and love very deeply. They have no frame of reference for things like friendship and warmth, but they badly want all of that and more, even if they don't know it yet.

In-game they can sleep with each other, which is basically the foundation of the normal Tav/Astarion romance. Lae'zel saw him during combat and got horny, who knows. Astarion who's used to luring people with his charms, takes up Lae'zel's blunt offer because she's a strong hardened warrior that can provide protection and be a worthy ally, and he doesn't know how to say no. Navigating the complications between one who wants to be seen beyond as a sex object, and one who comes from a totally alien culture with no concept of love/family/connections and only sex is honestly really compelling to me. It's a transactional, mutually beneficial thing with no emotional expectations. Once you get past the skeevy rockiness of their early relationship, I really like the idea of them slowly seeing something past the exterior and realizing they may have harshly misjudged the other, an unspoken friendship blooms, and in comes the realization that they are essentially loners longing for kindness and a comforting touch in the most desperate of situations.

Lae'zel is prideful, direct, has no sense of courtship talk, and doesn't hold back her thoughts the slightest--she's not sweet/agreeable and what you see is really what you get, which I imagine would be disarming for Astarion who's used to vacuous flattery and has difficulty trusting others. But she's also insanely protective, passionate, loyal, and an initiator-- every romance scene is triggered by her first and she's always showing effort towards her relationships, which would mesh well with Astarion who does need someone to nudge him.

She doesn't purposely suppress her feelings, she's just simply at loss at how to express them sometimes due to her wildly different upbringing. She stops the sparring match you agree to and an easy vulnerability slips instantly out of her: "I don't want to hurt you. I want to protect you, and for you to protect me." and "Thus far I've taunted you, devoured you, battled you. Now I want more than anything to soothe you." are romantic as fuck and Astarion of all people really needs to hear that tbh.

Astarion is also someone who struggles with reinforcing his boundaries, and a key theme in Lae'zel's romance is that she encourages and wants you to challenge her and learn to stand your ground. It's not gentlest method, but hey, relationships are about having to make an effort to learn each other's language.

I think he also would take pleasure "educating her on the matters of Fay-run" (I believe there's a whole banter with him teasing her and teaching her pet names) and would get a kick out of coaxing Lae'zel out of her shell with her shyness at showing public affection, and making her blush. Also it simply would be fucking funny to see Astarion who's used to easy seduction, trying to pass a persuasion check just to get a smooch and generally having to work to earn regular kisses from Lae'zel lmfaooo

Lae'zel also initially struggles to see her chains as chains. When she learns about Vlaakith's betrayal, she copes instantly through denial and shuts it down. Astarion is NOT having it and calls her out, he knows her well enough to recognize that she would value blunt honesty above all.

I imagine he also despises her lack of self-preservation, the way her entire identity is tied to duty and being in service of others, and doesn't understand her desire to still help/liberate the people that want her dead and are hunting her down. He wants to make this duty-bound soldier realize that looking out for herself, and putting herself first may not be the worst thing in the world.

They're so similar to each other but are also polar opposites in some ways that make a more equal, balanced romance I think. It's not a simple, one-sided, feel-good "she/he can fix her/him" fantasy because both of them have to earn each other's love, actually cut through the other's flaws, and actively motivate each other to be better versions of themselves.

They're not at all the other's ideal guiding hand. It's rough, jagged, and imperfect, but that's how healing goes. It's so far from being the healthiest relationship -- but even if their belief systems differ, their moral compass does often align. I imagine it's a slight relief for them to have a partner where there would be less shame and judgment when they expectedly, occasionally slip up and fall into their bad habits.

Also, man, the "You showed me the betweens and beyonds. Beyond war and peace, beyond passion and obsession, most importantly, you showed me freedom.", "First you were my wound, now you were my cure.", "But you saw something else in me - someone else I could be. Someone who could break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago.." lines really hit hard when applied to them.

Of course, they can also make each other worse, feed into the other's negative traits that will bring out the worst part of themselves. It's this duality of their pairing that is very interesting to explore, the way it can steer in either direction because it's an intense, fraught relationship at its core.

[inkskinned]

you have to be sexy but you have to be sexy in a way that's kind of bloody. you learn this early because you are wearing a ruffled skirt and the snow around your ankles kicks little sand particles against your calves. baby's first catcall. welcome to sexiness! welcome to the eyesore of your own body!

you have to be sexy like high heels. like sculpted eyebrows. like lean stomach and highly treated hair. you have to be sexy like youth is sexy, which means you have to be sexy like boxtox and plastic. a 30 year old can be sexy but she's not going to be bloody, and they like the bloodiness of it. a 30 year old is sexy when she is a whiskey glass and a wooden desk.

but you need to be sexy like an open mouth. you need to be sexy like a bitten apple. like plucked skin and white-knuckling the waxing kit.

so sex is a performance, not an enjoyment. for a while, you just assumed everyone else was also in on the joke - nobody actually likes sex that much, right? like, some men probably do, but why would you? it is like a gender - your gender is sexy. your gender is the performance of sex. you are thigh highs and garter belts. which, to be fair, do make you feel sexy.

part of what does make sex good is that you can tell that other people want you, which means the performance of sexiness is both bloody and wanted, which is good, which means you are winning at having a body. being wanted is the prize. being wanted is the thing you are searching for, not hope. you think you are looking for a soft grave in easy loam, but that is bloody but not sexy. to be sexy you must be bloody like a red open sign. bloody like a handprint. this will make you wanted.

any wanted or unwanted body is subject to supply and demand, which is to say that the more demand, the better you are valued. you must be highly demanded to be valued. this is stated in matter-of-fact by some men. sometimes it is a priest that says it, and sometimes it is a podcaster, and sometimes it is the 45th president of the united states of america.

(if you do not have any experience with being told your value, i want you to grab the nearest bird to you and i want you to crush it into a thin paste in your hand. spit into the center, and then hold your fingers closed tight around it for days and days, long after the rot has set in. feel bones itch inside of your fist. this is only a fraction of what it actually feels like, but it will suffice for a moment.)

good sex feels like you have earned their desperation. you have earned your own value. for a while you operated under the understanding that everyone knew about the power structure, even him. that their desire to take you - the violence of it - means that you must desire to be caught. little prince, guardian fox - you would rather have cut your own arm off. you liked the secret, cunning little voice you keep tucked into a box. you think you are fucking me. i am not even here right now. you are fucking what i conned you into perceiving. this is a painting, not a person. dominion over the body before all things.

so you bend your body like a wheat shaft and learn the steps so perfectly that it almost seems graceful. (if you do not have experience faking your own connection to your body and sexuality, cut each of your articles of clothing just a little bit incorrectly. pour fishbones into each of your meals. this way, you will experience the average noon on a tuesday.)

you have to be sexy like light spilled over a desk, but not desperate. not a noose. you can't be sexy like an electric guitar, you are the acoustic. you have to be on top of the bull but you can't have control over the animal.

okay, okay. the little rabbit of your heart went to sleep so long ago that winter has ravaged your concept of the human soul. there's something very-bad inside you, something that has taken over, a little fetid and rabid animal, angry and hurting and willing to bite first.

oh but even that's a pain that's sexy. open your mouth. be careful not to let the canines show.

[headspace-hotel]

90% of my climate despair comes from being so personally useless at having conversations with people, making connections and doing irl outreach

Because i'm autistic it's so relentlessly, mercilessly hard to talk to people irl and it never gets easier and it's always so exhausting and when I became a college student the baby organization i was starting just vanished along with most of my work that actually felt meaningful

This past semester was so miserable and I feel that my overall resilience keeps taking hits that I just can't recover from and I have all these things I desperately wanted to do for my local community that i've just been too exhausted for

and everybody is like "well you can get better at talking to people! set goals about improving!" and i'm like no I want someone WITH those skills to HELP me. I have a lot of skills that i'm very good at that contribute to environmental causes can it PLEASE be okay that this specific one isn't it

And ultimately it just feels like nobody cares the way I do, it's all up to me, and I am cruelly unable to actually enact any of the things I can see need to be done and meanwhile college has been physically and mentally breaking me down

I just don't feel...well. Like I went on a hike yesterday that I had done last summer and for some reason it physically wrecked me so bad, like my legs hurt so much I had to take ibuprofen to sleep, and it was more of a flu-like soreness than normal exercise soreness. I'm high-strung, restless and irritable.

i'm just. trying to write about climate change solutions, and just feel shit being like "these are all these things we can do!" but i can't do any of the most important things because i have to shut myself away from the outside world almost completely to conserve energy and even then i'm barely surviving. i had a class on plants and i scraped by with a C

[atzloverr]

seonghwa was eating you out when he noticed you have a love tattoo under your chin. he was soooo turned on.

would love it if you could make a smut based on this! lol thank you, have fun writing

thank you for your request dear!!! Hope you enjoy <33

includes: seonghwa x reader, nsfw, smut, oral (f receiving), female reader, hickeys

You closed the door behind you, sighing in exhaustion as you were finally home in your apartment. You felt yourself nearly stumble over your feet as your high heels clacked against the wooden floor.

Sitting down on a small stool, you took a deep breath and started taking your shoes off, finally freeing your feet from the aching pain after a long night of dancing.

“Darling!” Seonghwa’s voice called out from the living room. You could hear the sound of his slippers as he made his way to the hallway to greet you. “How was the pa—“ he started, being interrupted by a small gasp leaving his lips.

Your gaze traveled to his wide eyed expression as he slowly looked you up and down. “Fuck,” he let out, taking in your form in the particularly revealing outfit you had chosen for tonight.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his expression, hearing him almost pant as he drank in your appearance.

You threw your heels away from you, not even wanting to think about wearing those again, before slowly walking towards your boyfriend, who seemed to be in some kind of trace.

You couldn’t resist wrapping your tired arms around him. All the people at the party asking where ‘your hot boyfriend’ was didn’t exactly make you feel better. As much as you would love for him to accompany you to parties like these, you knew how much he disliked it.

He didn’t like the way people looked at him. Looked at you. He preferred quieter settings, where people weren’t so surfaced.

You squeaked at the way Seonghwa’s arms wrapped around your waist, feeling his strong and desperate grip pull you closer to him. The second you felt his lips on your neck, you knew what he wanted, and hesitantly pushed him off gently.

“Can we please move to another place, I can’t stand for much longer,” you pleaded, and he obeyed, nodding cutely before walking you to the living room, still keeping your hand tightly in his.

He laid you down on the couch, showing a satisfied grin as you almost moaned from the soft cushions underneath you. Finally, you could relax.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Seonghwa breathed out, his body hovering over yours.

“We’ve only been apart for a few hours love,” you laughed, lifting your hand to stroke his soft hair.

He smiled and lowered his head to finally make your lips meet in a heated kiss. You noticed the way he almost moaned as his tongue explored your mouth. You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel his erection through his sweatpants, hardening against your thigh.

He separated his mouth from yours, a string of saliva connecting your wet lips. “I bet you had everyone’s attention tonight, dressed like this” he almost growled, eyes closing as his lips slowly travelled down your neck. You giggled at his remark, arching your neck slightly to give him easier access. “Do I have to remind everyone who you belong to?” he whispered.

Your eyes clenched together when his small kisses became harsh sucks on the side of your neck. You couldn’t stop a whimper from exiting your parted lips. “Answer me,” Seonghwa demanded before connecting his lips with your neck again. You felt your cheeks heat up before muttering out, “Yes, you do.”

As a hickey started to form on your neck, his hips started moving on their own.

Your fingers found his raven hair, pulling it slightly, in a way you knew he loved, his hips starting to grind into your thigh with more desperation.

His mouth left your neck with a popping sound, making him chuckle lightly. He slowly traced his fingers over your new marks, seeming proud of his work.

He noticed the way your eyelids drooped in exhaustion, and reminded himself of what your day had been like. Your work was extremely stressful at the moment, and you worked long days. You barely had any time to rest before attending your friend’s huge birthday party, probably standing and dancing for hours. You promised yourself not to drink tonight, not wanting to be hungover on Saturday, when you and Seonghwa were going on a dinner date.

Your boyfriend gave you a fond look. “Are you tired baby?” he asked, voice laced with worry and care. Your eyes fluttered open, and you hadn’t even realized you had closed them. “Oh, yeah a little bit,” you admitted, but Seonghwa knew that you were actually really tired, not just a little bit. “But I still want to spend time with you, you know,” you mumbled out, clearly becoming sleepy.

Seonghwa let out an airy laugh at your cute sleepy face. By ‘spending time with him’, you both knew you meant sex. You were both clearly horny, and needed some type of release.

“Darling, I have an Idea,” Seonghwa said playfully. You smirked slightly before he continued. “How about, you just lay here,” he started, his body traveling further down your body. “And I make you feel really good?” he asked, almost sounding innocent.

You smiled at his request. “I mean, I won’t say no to that, but I want to give you pleasure as well,” you pouted. Seonghwa shook his head with a small smile. “You know as much as I do that your pleasure is my pleasure,” he said, his sparkly eyes almost making you squeal.

After a moment of consideration, you nodded, earning a wide smirk from your boyfriend, who immediately got to work.

He skillfully, but slowly undressed you, almost teasing you as his fingertips met your bare skin. Soon, you were completely naked, suddenly feeling shy at your exposed state. Seonghwa moved your hands as you tried to cover up slightly. “C’mon baby, this is nothing I haven’t seen before,” he said. You looked away shyly as his hands rubbed your bare legs slowly, his eyes slowly drinking in your bare body.

“Can’t you t- take some clothes off too?” you suggested, still not meeting his piercing gaze. Seonghwa gently turned your face towards his, eyes meeting yours. “So eager to see me, huh?” he asked, tone almost mocking. You were about to protest, but got interrupted by Seonghwa starting to slowly take his shirt off, as if putting on a show.

You gasped every time you saw his body like this, no matter how many times you’d seen it. At times, you even doubted yourself, thinking that you’re not enough for someone like him. When you had told him about it, he immediately comforted you, reassuring you that you’re all he could’ve ever asked for.

His pants came off rather quickly, and you smirked at the bulge in his black boxers, showing you exactly how much he needed you right now.

“There, happy now?” he asked, watching as your eyes moved up and down his form. You nodded contentedly.

You yelped when your legs were suddenly swung up in the air, over Seonghwa’s lean shoulders. He started kissing your thighs slowly, as his hands gripped your thighs in a way that almost hurt. Oh, how you loved him like this, so eager to please.

Just as his lips came really close to your aching sex, begging for him to finally put his warm mouth on it, he switched to the other thigh, clearly avoiding it. You whined, feeling his lips so close to where you really needed it, as he started using his skillful tongue to tease you further, giving you a taste of what was to come.

His right hand traveled up to your breast, kneading it gently in his hand before slowly tracing his tongue over your erect nipple. You let out a breathy moan at the sudden sensation, as your hips practically bucked themselves up to meet your lovers lips.

“Please…” you whimpered, feeling his fingers lightly pinch your sensitive nipple. He hummed at your begs, coming closer and closer to where you wanted him.

Without a warning, his mouth found your sex, messily licking all over you. You couldn’t help but let out a long moan, your hand immediately finding his hair, gripping it for support. He knew how much you loved his tongue on you, in you.

Seonghwa’s eyes rolled back as he felt your taste on his tongue, a deep moan escaping him, sending vibrations into you.

He started lapping at your clit at a painfully slow pace, still not failing to make you twitch and jolt at the immense pleasure.

You barely noticed when he moved his hand from your boob, to focused on his tongue movement sending shivers down your spine. Suddenly, you felt two fingers teasing your entrance, Seonghwa’s mouth still working wonders. As they slowly worked their way inside of you, quickly finding your sweet spot, you felt an orgasm building up in your stomach.

Your moans only became louder as your boyfriend’s tongue became quicker and quicker.

Seonghwa’s eyes traveled up to your face, wanting to see the precious look on your dace as he finally gave you what you needed, but your head was thrown back, only showing your neck.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he saw something on your neck, and he needed to blink to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.

A tattoo.

Right there, on the bottom of your chin. It depicted a heart.

What made you whine in desperation, was the way Seonghwa’s mouth suddenly stopped moving as he saw the tattoo you hadn’t bothered to tell him about. You snapped your head in his direction, giving him a pleading look.

“Hwa, please—“ you whimpered, trying to push his head slightly, still feeling so close to coming, but his fierce gaze didn’t budge. He removed his mouth from you, making you thrash around in frustration, but you gasped when he tilted your head back harshly, his breath fanning over your neck.

“What—“

“When did you get this tattoo?” he asked, voice unwavering and serious.

You became quiet, and thought about his question. “I think, about a year ago? A few months before we met,” you explained, your mind still fixated on your orgasm that was so rudely ripped away from your grasp.

“How have I never seen it before?…” Seonghwa said lowly, hands tracing the small heart on your chin. You swallowed.

“D- do you… not like it?” you asked, feeling insecure all of a sudden. Seonghwa let out a sound of disagreement, finally tilting your head back so you could look him in the eye.

“Baby,” he started, the look in his eye almost scary. “I don’t think you understand how much I like it.”

You laughed at his seriousness. “Oh come on—“

“No like, I need to see it, from that exact angle,” he explained manically. Before elaborating more, he quickly made his way back to his previous position, in between your legs.

“Seonghw- ahh—“ you moaned, feeling his hot tongue back on your neglected heat. “Tilt your head back,” he commanded, eyes plastered on you, as he inserted his two fingers once again. He didn’t have to tell you twice, your head already resting on the armrest of the couch.

This time, he wasn’t so gentle with his mouth.

The room was soon filled with the lewd sounds of slurps and moans, the moans not only coming from you. You momentarily looked down at him, and you were met by the sight of him mercilessly rutting into the couch through his boxers, his hips moving quickly and in an unsteady rhythm.

“Mmh…” he let out, giving you a pouty look. You smiled and tilted your head back again.

Seonghwa already loved your neck like it was, so noticing this detail about you made him hard as a rock.

After only a short amount of time, you got close again, but this time, you weren’t edged, no, Seonghwa made sure you felt this orgasm.

His fingers pumped into you at an unbelievable speed, while he sucked on your clit. His hands were wrapped around your thighs tightly, not letting you move an inch. As you came on his tongue, you noticed that he was moaning like never before.

You looked down at him again, and luckily he had closed his eyes, his own orgasm washing over him as he came in his boxers. You’d never seen your boyfriend this desperate and horny before, but you were sure this wasn’t going to be the last time.

You ran your hands through his hair slowly, as if a way of giving him praise. He slowly drank up your liquids, making your breath hitch at the overstimulation.

As he propped himself up again, you were ready to go take a shower with him and go to bed, but he had other plans.

As you tried to stand up, Seonghwa’s hand found your waist, pulling you back into the soft couch.

“You think we’re done?” he asked, clearly baffled. You smiled questioningly. “Yeah? You did come, didn’t you?” you teased slightly, eyeing the wet spot in his boxers.

“Listen, Y/n,” he started, taking your hands in his. “I’m not done until I get to see that little tattoo of yours, from every possible angle,” he stated. Your eyes widened at his sudden boldness.

Without saying another word, Seonghwa lay down on his back, and gestured for you to come closer.

“Well go ahead,” he smirked. “Sit on my face.”

Hope you enjoyed!!! Please send in more requests if you guys have any!

Good news (or bad news?) I’m sick, so I’ll have plenty of time to write the upcoming days!!!

masterlist

[zyhkoo]

☆ everything i know about love

dick grayson and jason todd x fem!reader (separate)

they drunkenly propose

a/n: i was inspired by this fic my friend showed me, i hope you guys like this one!

Jason todd

Jason never understood the fuss about marriage. Just a piece of jewelry and some vows, and you're suddenly yoked to someone for life. No thanks. He had more important things to worry about than tying the knot. Besides, he enjoyed his freedom far too much to be tied down like that.

Why commit to one person when the world is full of interesting people to meet and adventures to be had? Jason preferred to live life on his own terms, without the constraints of a ring on his finger.

His secret identity as Red Hood only added to the list of reasons why marriage didn't fit into Jason's plans. His life was dangerous and unpredictable, and he couldn't risk the safety of a loved one by involving them in his shadowy world. Plus, balancing a marriage and a secret life as a crime-fighter would be nearly impossible. It was better for everyone involved if Jason continued his nocturnal escapades alone.

Surprisingly enough, Jason found himself softening his stance while dating you. It wasn’t like he suddenly became a relationship enthusiast overnight, but he couldn’t deny the subtle change in his perspective.

Though marriage still seemed like a far-off possibility, Jason realized that a fulfilling relationship didn't necessarily require a ring. He was content with the way things were, cherishing the connection he had with you and the moments they shared. The idea of a wedding might still make him a bit nervous, but he knew what mattered most was the happiness you shared in the present.

As the buzz about your relationship grew, the questions about when you were getting married started to come up more frequently. Your friends would throw subtle hints during conversations, or nosy family members would outright ask, expecting a firm timeline. Jason felt the pressure, too. The constant reminders of marriage were like a nagging voice in the back of his mind, pushing him to make a decision he wasn’t ready for. The pressure was mounting, but Jason stubbornly held onto his reservations.

Then, it hit him. Wedding fever.

The last wedding the two of you attended was your best friend’s. You couldn't believe it when you accidentally caught the bouquet at your best friend's wedding. It was just a silly tradition, nothing more. At least, that's what you thought. Little did you know, the effect of the bouquet would hit someone unexpected: Jason.

Suddenly, the mere touch of that bouquet ignited a strange fervor within him. A fever for the idea of marriage, something he had vehemently opposed in the past. Jason watched as your friends and family playfully teased you about catching the bouquet, but his mind was elsewhere. He stood there, dumbfounded, as if the sight of you with that bouquet had somehow changed everything.

His thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and newfound desire. How could a simple bouquet have such an impact on him? He was the guy who never wanted to get married, and now he was practically salivating at the thought. What was happening to him?

When he had too much to drink, you dragged him back to the hotel room.

You gently pulled Jason into the hotel room, his body leaning heavily against yours as the alcohol dulled his senses. You decided to undress him so he'd be more comfortable, unbuttoning his polo shirt while his breath tickled your neck. But as you reached the last button, Jason suddenly leaned forward and pressed a desperate, hungry kiss against your lips.

You were caught off guard by his sudden move, but you couldn't resist the passion behind the kiss. You returned his kiss, your lips responding tenderly and gently meeting him. As he pulled away, your heart skipped a beat as Jason looked into your eyes, his words slurred but his gaze steady. "Marry me," he said.

Here he was, the man who had once been so skeptical about marriage, proposing to you in the midst of a drunken stupor. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, you were absolutely baffled. You stammered, trying to find the right words to say. “What?” you muttered.

"I said, marry me," he repeated as he gripped your wrist. “M’ serious," he insisted, as if trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince you.

You couldn't help but stand there with your mouth open, in disbelief at the words that were coming out of his mouth. This was the same man who had been adamantly against the idea of marriage just a few hours ago, and now he was drunkenly proposing to you! Jason's lips grazed against your fingers, his breath warm and words slurred but still filled with a sweet intensity. "Come on," he muttered, clinging to your hand. "Just say yes."

You could feel the nerves in your voice as you struggled to find the right words. "Wow, uh...I'd love to say yes, but maybe we should call it a day first. Let's talk about it in the morning, okay?"

Jason's eyes softened as he looked at you, his drunken state making it difficult for him to comprehend your words. But he nodded, albeit reluctantly. "In the morning," he repeated, his voice slurring. "But m’ serious, I do want to marry you." You gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I know you're serious," you said softly, gently stroking his hair. "We'll talk about it in the morning, when you're sober, okay?"

Dick Grayson

It all began with a simple birthday surprise from Dick– a beautiful white cake that bore an uncanny resemblance to a wedding dress. Unintentionally, it planted the seed of wedding fever in Dick's mind. Slowly, the realization dawned upon him, sparking a subtle yet determined desire to make his love for you official.

Dick found himself wrestling with how to broach the subject. While you had occasionally mentioned a future together, marriage had never explicitly entered the picture in your conversations. He pondered how to bring up the idea without catching you off guard.

Late one night, after an evening of bonding with his siblings over a few drinks, Dick returned to the cozy abode he shared with you. In his grip, he clutched a single daisy, its delicate white petals gently swayed with each movement. As he stepped inside, he revealed a paper ring resting on his palm, its simplicity belying the depth of emotion he wanted to convey.

You looked down at the paper ring in Dick's hand with puzzlement in your eyes. "What is this?" you asked. His heart thumped in his chest as he saw your confused eyes. He took a step closer, the petals of the flower trailing across your skin. A gentle smile played on his lips as he slurred, “It’s a ring, f’ course.”

He held the ring up, offering it to you. “I want to…” he trails his words. “You want to..?” you continued his sentence. He looks into your eyes, the paper ring still offered in his hand. He’s taking in the sight of you, wearing nothing more than a pair of sleep shorts and one of his old t-shirts, with your hair messy on your head.

“I… I want to marry you,” he says quietly.

You replied quickly, “Sure.” you said casually. A hint of surprise flickered in Dick's eyes. He had braced himself for a range of potential reactions, but this one had caught him off guard. Dick's mouth hung open for a moment, and for a split second he was at a loss for words. "Sure?" he repeated, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and a touch of confusion. He looked at you in slight surprise, his mind processing the unexpected simplicity of your response.

“Yeah,” you replied as you held his hand. “Let’s get married.”

His mind raced, trying to process the unexpected simplicity of your response. He’d been expecting a little bit more discussion, maybe even some tears, yet here you were, casually agreeing to his impromptu proposal. He stared down at you, a mix of surprise and elation flooding his expression. He looked at your hand holding his thumb running against the back of your hand.

“Just like that?” he chuckled, a bit breathlessly. You only smiled softly, “Why wouldn’t I marry someone like you?” you told him. “Let’s get you to bed, you’re gonna have a massive hangover tomorrow.”

He looked down at the paper ring on his hand, then back at you. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as he took your hand in his, and placed the ring upon your finger. “Now it’s official,” he chuckled, looking down at the simple paper ring on your finger.

[bixels]

Portal 2 is still the perfect game to me. I hyperfixated on it like crazy in middle school. Would sing Want You Gone out loud cuz I had ADHD and no social awareness. Would make fan animations and pixel art. Would explain the ending spoilers and fan theories to anyone who'd listen. Would keep up with DeviantArt posts of the cores as humans. Would find and play community-made maps (Gelocity is insanely fun).

I still can't believe this game came out 12 years ago and it looks like THIS.

Like Mirror's Edge, the timeless art style and economic yet atmospheric lighting means this game will never age. The decision not to include any visible humans (ideas of Doug Rattmann showing up or a human co-op partner were cut) is doing so much legroom too. And the idea to use geometric tileset-like level designs is so smart! I sincerely believe that, by design, no game with a "realistic art style" has looked better than Portal 2.

Do you guys remember when Nvidia released Portal with RTX at it looked like dogshit? Just the most airbrushed crap I've ever seen; completely erased the cold, dry, clinical feel of Aperture.

So many breathtakingly pit-in-your-stomach moments I still think about too. And it's such a unique feeling; I'd describe at as... architectural existentialism? Experiencing the sublime under the shadow of manmade structures (Look up Giovanni Battista Piranesi's art if you're curious)? That scene where you're running from GLaDOS with Wheatley on a catwalk over a bottomless pit and––out of rage and desperation––GLaDOS silently begins tearing her facility apart and Wheatley cries 'She's bringing the whole place down!' and ENORMOUS apartment building-sized blocks begin groaning towards you on suspended rails and cement pillars crumble and sparks fly and the metal catwalk strains and bends and snaps under your feet. And when you finally make it to the safety of a work lift, you look back and watch the facility close its jaws behind you as it screams.

Or the horror of knowing you're already miles underground, and then Wheatley smashes you down an elevator shaft and you realize it goes deeper. That there's a hell under hell, and it's much, much older.

Or how about the moment when you finally claw your way out of Old Aperture, reaching the peak of this underground mountain, only to look up and discover an endless stone ceiling built above you. There's a service door connected to some stairs ahead, but surrounding you is this array of giant, building-sized springs that hold the entire facility up. They stretch on into the fog. You keep climbing.

I love that the facility itself is treated like an android zooid too, a colony of nano-machines and service cores and sentient panel arms and security cameras and more. And now, after thousands of years of neglect, the facility is festering with decomposition and microbes; deer, raccoons, birds. There are ghosts too. You're never alone, even when it's quiet. I wonder what you'd hear if you put your ear up against a test chamber's walls and listened. (I say that all contemplatively, but that's literally an easter egg in the game. You hear a voice.)

Also, a reminder that GLaDOS and Chell are not related and their relationship is meant to be psychosexual. There was a cut bit where GLaDOS would role-play as Chell's jealous housewife and accuse her of seeing other cores in between chambers. And their shared struggle for freedom and control? GLaDOS realizing, after remembering her past life, that she's become the abuser and deciding that she has the power to stop? That even if she can't be free, she can let Chell go because she hates her. And she loves her. Most people interpret GLaDOS "deleting Caroline in her brain" as an ominous sign, that she's forgetting her human roots and becoming "fully robot." But to me, it's a sign of hope for GLaDOS. She's relieving herself of the baggage that has defined her very existence, she's letting Caroline finally rest, and she's allowing herself to grow beyond what Cave and Aperture and the scientists defined her to be. The fact that GLaDOS still lets you go after deleting Caroline proves this. She doesn't double-back or change her mind like Wheatley did, she sticks to her word because she knows who she is. No one and nothing can influence her because she's in control. GLaDOS proves she's capable of empathy and mercy and change, human or not.

That's my retrospective, I love this game to bits. I wish I could experience it for the first time again.

[asidian]

One thing I haven't seen talked about is Crystal's character arc, and specifically the way the timing of it interacts with Charles' arc. They stumble over each other in the worst possible way en route to their respective character growth, and from a narrative perspective, it's absolutely genius.

I'm going to preface all this by saying: none of this is a criticism of Crystal. Part of what makes her such a dynamic, refreshing character is that you don't get to see women in fiction written the way she's been written. You don't get to see women with her flaws that aren't throw-away mean girls or villains. You especially don't get to see women with her traits who learn and grow and become better people. So yeah, I'm going to talk about Crystal's character flaws. No, this isn't Crystal hate. We love our girl in this house. Okay? Okay. Let's start.

Crystal's character arc, at its heart, is all about her learning to be a better person because she has good influences that love and support her for the first time.

When the show starts, Crystal is not a nice person. She's abrasive in a way that's specifically designed to push people away. She's used to getting her own way, and it shows. She's used to having no meaningful connections with anyone, and it shows. She's breathtakingly selfish, in the very literal sense of the definition. She is focused on her self. Her problems are front and center to her; everything is about what she needs, and what she wants, and how she's struggling.

Jenny calls her out very early on. In episode one, Crystal is complaining about the boys, and Jenny, for all her cynicism, strikes right at the heart of the problem. She tells Crystal, "Everybody is always thinking about themselves, all the time." People only care about their own problems. And she says, correctly, that that's what Crystal is doing, too.

This moment is a revelation for Crystal. For the first time, she considers what her behavior looks like from another person's perspective. As she says, she gets mad at herself over it, and that awareness allows her to do something selfless for the first time in the series. She takes a step back and insists that instead of focusing on her problems, they go to help a little girl. It's a big moment for her.

But importantly, she's not done growing as a character here. She's only just getting started.

On my first watch through, I didn't realize how often, over the next few episodes, Crystal redirects things to her problems during conversation, but it's quite a lot. She's still focused on herself – selfish, in that most literal definition of the word. The issues most important to her are her issues. She's starting to learn to think about other people, but she's not there yet. The process is still underway.

Which brings us to Charles.

Charles' arc is a different sort of self-reflection. He's terrified that he's a bad person the way his father was and the way the boys that killed him were.

During the course of the show, he gets systematically stripped of his confidence and made to feel helpless, and just like Crystal needs outside influences to help her reach a more stable place, Charles does, too. He desperately needs reassurance that he isn't everything he's afraid he is.

But my goodness, the timing in their arcs is such a trainwreck when you put them together, and it is brilliant.

Let's start with the Devlin House.

Crystal has some amazing character growth here. She displays genuine concern about Charles, makes an attempt at comforting him, and learns to work with Edwin even though she still doesn't particularly like him at this point.

Charles, meanwhile, is beginning to fall apart. He's just had the worst night of his afterlife. He's been viscerally reminded of how helpless he is. He couldn't stop the Devlins from being killed over and over, just like he couldn't stop his own father's abuse. He messed up his attempted rescue so badly that he was completely out of commission until the case was finished. He managed to help not one single thing. He made no impact at all. He couldn't help those girls any more than he was able to help himself, while he was still alive.

So they get back to the butcher shop, and what do we see? Monty immediately coopts Edwin. Niko doesn't know what's happened because she wasn't there and Charles has been all fake smiles with her. And Crystal goes off with Niko, leaving Charles to flounder on his own in the wake of everything. She's still learning how to support other people. She isn't there yet, and it's extremely on display in this moment.

Then we get the lighthouse episode, and they both get put through the wringer here. Crystal gets her hopes and expectations jerked around by the Night Nurse in the very worst way, and Charles gets hit with a whole pile full of trauma. All that helplessness wells to the forefront again. Combined with being forced to relive some of his worst memories and the desperation to keep Edwin safe from hell, Charles lets himself act on his anger for once.

And what does he get in the aftermath? Horror.

Everyone who cares about him is horrified by what he's done. Edwin goes so far as to call it extreme. They don't know the half of it, of course; they haven't seen what the Night Nurse just put him through. But in this moment Charles is at his absolute lowest, and all he sees is confirmation that he's exactly as terrible as he thinks he is.

That's why Charles shrugs off Edwin's attempt at comfort, here. When he needed to be able to do something to protect Edwin and also himself – when he needed to believe that he could be better than what his father always was – all he sees is the confirmation from the people he cares about most that when push came to shove, he really is a bad guy.

Then comes the aftermath. And this moment is such a brilliant, awful clash of both of their character arcs. It is so delightfully messy.

Because Charles starts to open up to Crystal here. He starts to lay himself bare, the way he ends up doing with Edwin in episode 5. He's on the verge of admitting something that he's been worried about for literal decades. He tells her, "I've been angry for such a long time."

And what does Crystal do? She's still in the midst of her own character growth. She's still struggling to support other people. She's still learning how to. In a lot of ways, though she's made progress already, she's still that selfish girl that Jenny called out in the very first episode.

And she shows it here it with the absolute worst possible timing. No sooner has Charles started to talk about what's bothering him than she cuts in with her own problems. She's tired of riddles and spirits and demons and not knowing who she is. And the look on Charles' face. The moment when he visibly sets aside his own problems, because Crystal doesn't need any more disasters on her plate? It's heartbreaking. You can actually track the subtle change in his expression there. The actor does a phenomenal job.

And then comes the kiss. And what spurs it? Crystal saying she needs something real.

This moment isn't about light-hearted attraction, the way the earlier flirting is. It's Charles setting aside what he needs – comfort and reassurance and a moment to talk through the things that have been tearing him apart – to give her what she says she wants. He can't even feel it. And Crystal isn't far enough along in her character growth here to realize how selfish she's being. Like Jenny said way back in episode one, she's only thinking about herself.

And then comes the absolute unmitigated disaster of episode 5.

Straight out the gate, Charles leans in for a kiss. From his perspective, they have something together; there's affection there. Charles "I think I'd miss kissing" Rowland, who has been starved for meaningful physical contact for thirty years, is not in a hurry to give this up.

But Crystal is fresh out of a nightmare where she conflates Charles with her abusive ex. She withdraws; she calls what they had a distraction. She cuts it off almost as soon as it's started, so focused on her own worries here that she misses how damn fake Charles' smile is, to cover up that he's coming to pieces.

To be clear, she's absolutely not in the wrong here. It is 1000% her prerogative not to jump into a relationship again while she's still struggling to work through what happened with David. But the arc of her narrative is still early enough that she does it all without so much as the awareness that her focus on her own issues has hurt Charles terribly.

And then the episode really kicks off, and both of them are in shambles in very different ways.

Crystal is projecting her issues with David onto Charles. She has a lot of history, and David seems as though he's exactly the right sort of toxic to leave lasting a lasting impact. But Charles hasn't done anything to deserve her assumptions, and he takes the brunt of her temper here and throughout the episode.

Charles is desperately projecting onto the dead jocks. He very badly wants them to be good guys, because he sees himself in them and he needs himself to be a good guy. He snipes back at Crystal for the very first time in this episode, and he does it in the worst way possible, accidentally prodding her where it will do the most damage.

They're both hurting. They both say some truly painful things to one another.

She does not need to hear that she has unsorted hangups about David still plaguing her while she's unable to move past them. He desperately does not need anyone to tell him that he has rage issues while he's still struggling to think of himself as a decent person.

They apologize, in the end. They start to move past it.

But it's telling that Charles doesn't try to open up to Crystal again. He goes to Edwin instead, even though Edwin is the one who called his actions regarding the Night Nurse extreme. He gets the reassurance he needs so badly; he gets the connection he was looking for with Crystal from Edwin, instead. (I have a lot of thoughts on why Charles initially tries to open up to Crystal so quickly, but it is very much an aside, and this is already extremely long, so it will have to wait for another write-up.)

But the important thing here is, Edwin is the one to offer Charles what he needs to overcome the self-doubt eating him alive. Edwin provides the physical affection Charles was seeking in the form of that long-overdue hug. Edwin is the one who's able to reaffirm for him that he's not just a good guy, he's the best person Edwin knows.

And for all intents and purposes, Charles' major character arc ends here.

Charles has a few last little moments to go on the path to rebuilding his own self-image, after this, but for the most part his concerns have been resolved. He saves Crystal in episode 6 and Edwin in episode 7, proving to himself that he's able to make a difference in the face of overwhelming odds. He's not helpless, no matter what the Night Nurse told him; he can be a force for good in the world. By the end of the series, his crisis of self-doubt seems to have been largely overcome.

But it's the conversation with Edwin at the end of episode 5 that really allows him to work through his most pressing issues. Edwin is there to help support him when he stumbles. Edwin provides him the comfort he was looking for while Crystal was too worried about her own problems to notice how badly he needed the help.

Crystal, meanwhile, still has a ways to go after episode 5. The last three episodes are where she does her most important character growth.

In episode 6, she learns some hard lessons about keeping secrets and letting people help and appreciate you even when you can't offer them anything in return. And Charles, importantly, is there for her every step of the way. He consistently offers her physical and emotional support. He models for her, in a very real way, what it looks like to have someone prop you up when you need the help.

And in turn, Crystal steps in to save the boys. She's the big damn hero at the end of this episode.

The breakthrough continues into episode 7. She's so intent on helping to get Edwin out of hell that she literally goes to face her own demons, not for herself for once – not for her own purposes or needs or wants – but because she wants to help someone else.

And episode 8, at long last, brings her to the culmination of her character arc.

Crystal is at her absolute lowest here. Her family, the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally, didn't even realize she was gone. Her precious memories, that she's spent the entire series trying to regain, have showed her that she's not the person she hoped she would be. She's overwhelmed enough that she means to flee, to cut herself off from her new friends entirely.

Then the boys get kidnapped. And just like that, she makes up her mind.

For the first time since the start of the series, she sets aside her most important issues in order to let what other people need take precedence. She disregards all of her own personal concerns and focuses instead on others. She's finally stepped out of those selfish impulses that Jenny calls her out on, all the way back in the first episode. She's finally learned how to support other people when they need it.

Crystal has finally figured out how to be there for others, despite having troubles of her own.

It's a lovely arc, and it's beautifully done.

Charles' is just as touching.

And god damn, but it was a brilliant narrative choice to have their character arcs line up in exactly the wrong way.

[starryeyedjanai]

bad boys do it better

rated: teen | @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: modern au tags: dating apps, innuendo, bad flirting read on ao3

✿

Eddie finally opens Tinder after downloading it in a fit of desperation.

He's tried everything but these stupid apps—bars and clubs and pottery classes and rock climbing—trying to find someone he can connect with.

But he's mostly found guys that string him along with whispered sweet nothings and half-promises they don't intend to follow through on.

So he makes his profile and then promptly fumbles and drops his phone because— no fucking way.

There's no way this is real life.

There's no fucking way the first guy to pop up is Steve fucking Harrington, his unfortunate and longest lasting crush in high school.

He picks up his phone and sees Steve's face staring back at him, unassuming, a bright, cheery smile on his face.

Steve, 28 2 miles away "Hope you like bad boys because I have it on dvd and vhs" Interests: baseball, basketball, live music, movies

He taps to get to the next photo and lets out a shaky breath—the shorts of what can only be his Halloween costume are so short, exposing hairy thighs that Eddie wants to sink his teeth into.

The next photo is a snapchat picture of him grinning wide, cradling what might be the world's ugliest dog, the text across the screen reading my nephew is so handsome 🤩🤩🤩.

The last is an obligatory shirtless mirror pic, not showing off washboard abs, but the soft, toned skin of his stomach.

He closes the app, sets his phone down, and breathes through his nose.

This can't be real, right? In what world would Steve be the first person in a sea of profiles in San Francisco of all places?

Eddie expected him to chase after Nancy Wheeler when she went to Boston, but he didn't stick around long enough in Hawkins to find out if they ever rekindled their will-they-won't-they relationship.

Maybe he's just visiting. Maybe he found his match and just forgot to delete Tinder. Because there's just no way Eddie has this kind of luck.

He opens up Instagram and searches for Steve and finds him right away because they're probably still Facebook friends.

He scrolls through his profile and deflates a little, because all of the pictures on Tinder are from his Instagram. Which means it's probably much more likely that someone is catfishing using Steve's pictures.

Because the Steve from high school wasn't into men. And he's hot enough for someone to use his pictures to scam people or whatever.

He opens up Tinder again and his thumb is swiping right before he thinks about what he's doing.

It's a match!

Okay, now he knows it's a catfish. Or maybe it's a bot.

There's no world in which Steve Harrington would swipe right on him in the twenty minutes it's been since he created his account.

He types a message to "Steve" saying so are you a bot or just a catfish?

He doesn't get a response right away, so he clicks out of the messages, looking at profiles of what are hopefully actual people he can connect with.

His phone buzzes when the message from Steve comes in.

Hi3 Eddiems, cl!ck th3 linkin my proffile to . achat I am waitin9

He rolls his eyes and goes back to perusing profiles. It's not like he thought it was really Ste-

His phone pings with another message and he clicks back into the chat immediately.

That was a joke. There's not even a link in my profile

Eddie's heart beats a little faster, his fingers typing out a response.

So a catfish then?

Why do you think I'm a catfish?????

Because I know the guy in those pictures and there's no way hes into men. That guy was a jock extraordinaire in high school and very straight

You're awfully judgey for someone who was so anti-conformity in high school. Whos to say I haven't changed?

Or like, learned new things about myself?

Eddie's breath stutters in his throat.

Also you didn't really know me since we never talked.

Okay, I mean. It's pretty easy to guess that I was counterculture in high school by looking at me. So I'm still on the fence about the catfish thing

How about we meet up then? So you can see me in all my nearing-30 glory

And watch bad boys on dvd and vhs with you?

Dude, I am not inviting you to my house on the first date

That's a third date kind of thing

Oh yeah? Is it a back-to-back feature? We start with the vhs then move to dvd?

He can't believe he's entertaining this. A catfish wouldn't offer to meet up unless they thought Eddie wouldn't call their bluff. He kind of wants to see where this is going.

No see, we start with the dvd playing in the living room and then when we inevitably start being bad boys🥵 in the middle of the movie, we can pick it back up on vhs in my room later

To be clear, we stop the movie, right? I'm not sure bad boys has a soundtrack meant for the kind of activities we'd be doing

Oh for sure. I'd even put on my "let's get it on" playlist. As a treat.

Eddie can't help but grin. Even if this guy is a catfish, this is maybe the most fun he's had talking to someone in a long time.

Are you serious about meeting up?

Uh yeah, I can't have you thinking I'm a catfish forever

What's your favorite brewery?

Cellarmaker

Wanna do tomorrow afternoon at like 2 when it's not busy?

That sounds perfect

He isn't sure if it's really Steve or if he's going to be met with someone else or stood up, but at least he'll get to drown his sorrows if it doesn't work out.

Well—he's unsure until he gets the 'stharrington started following you' notification on Instagram a few minutes later.

He screams into his pillow so loud his neighbor thumps on the wall.

[witchywcmans]

TOO SWEET. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ after accepting his new title, your moments alone with laios start to become a rarity. it was hard for him to find time, making him long for the days in the dungeon with you. and now, the kisses between you two were quick and desperate, until one night...when a very tired laios just can't seem to ignore you. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ cunnilingus + fingering, praise, size kink, reader on top, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, yearning + sexual tension, laios and reader haven't boinked in a bit, monster facts as dirty talk ofc, confession, mentions of dubious consent in 5th paragraph (from when the winged lion switched into laios's body). nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 5.4k

song inspiration ━━ howl, florence + the machine / oil & water, pvris / love story, taylor swift

author's note ━━ THIS ONE-SHOT CONTAINS MANGA SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING OF DUNGEON MESHI! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! okay, part 3 (and final part) of my laios series is here! like the other parts, this could be read as a standalone, if you want. my plan for part 3 was to make it vague in case ppl who haven’t read the manga want to read it, but that kinda went out the window. I highly encourage everyone to read the manga if you want more of the story, it gets so interesting! I'm a SUCKER for a knight x ruler ship, so that's what you're getting in this!! I've enjoyed writing this little connected series so much and it really pushed me to start writing reader one-shots! if it hadn't been for all the ppl in the dungeon meshi fandom who read my work, I probably wouldn't have started this. this anime + manga has become one of my absolute favorites!! I hope you guys enjoy this! ps: don't worry, I will be writing more laios in the future 😉

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

After what felt like years, all was right in the world when the Island’s dungeon was destroyed and the Golden Kingdom finally rose from the sea. You had gotten to know Laios – in more ways than one – throughout your journey inside the dungeon, which had left you terrified at some points, especially when you almost lost him. But it hadn’t surprised you when the people had declared him King of a land that was thought to have been perished 1000 years ago. With everything he sacrificed, Laios – the devour of monsters, the destroyer of demons – was the only right person to rule.

With the help of Marcille, Senshi, Chilchuck, and even more friends met along the way, Laios was advised thoroughly as he undertook the stresses of establishing the Golden Kingdom once again. He had to deal with villager problems, instituting the economy, and keeping an eye on the monsters that took residence in surrounding lands. He watched them from his bedroom window on the farthest tower of the castle, admiring the beasts that warded off any threats to the kingdom. But his passion had become the production and preservation of food throughout his land, specifically in regards to magic and monsters. He made sure not one person in the Golden Kingdom went hungry, even if it killed him someday.

Most days were spent researching with his advisors or sitting in the throne room, listening to villagers' pleas for more building materials, better water, or whatever else they came up with that day. Laios made sure to listen to every ask, but he had to admit – just talking to people was exhausting. He never regretted his decision to become King, but sometimes … he longed for the days in the dungeons, tearing into whatever monster they cooked up that night, fighting alongside you, holding your hand or kissing you … tasting you.

Like your former party members, you had taken up residence in the castle as Laios’s chief knight and sworn protector. It made sense, given the fact that you had saved him with your crossbow on several occasions in the dungeon. You frequented by his side, except when he was in his own chambers. You led him to meetings, walked with him through the streets of the kingdom, protected him if any threats arose. Ever since you took up this mantle, your moments alone together had become rare. There had been one night: after Laios was safe and sound in the walls of the castle … that you shared his bed with him, tears streaming down your face because you had been so worried for him, but it didn’t matter anymore now that he was safe, and healing, and pounding into you so hard that it left you both gasping for air. Besides that, the only encounters you had alone were fleeting, consisting of swift, passionate kisses and rough squeezes in dark corners. You two hadn’t been intimate in any sense of the word since … well, since the Winged Lion was defeated. 

Just the memory of the demon made you shiver. You remembered when the Wing Lion had switched into Laios’s body and granted his true desire to become a monster. Before trying to escape the dungeon, he had tried fooling all the party members that he really was Laios and he almost fooled you. You recalled the way he had tried to kiss you – probably devouring your own desires right from your mouth – and how his hands so eagerly tried to slip underneath your skirt, finding you already aching and ready for your lover, just needing to be touched after being so distraught over Laios’s wellbeing. But you recognized the foreign contact from a mile away, and you had pushed him back, screaming at the Winged Lion to bring back your Laios.

You shook yourself out of the memory as you walked Laios back to his bed chambers that night. His stomach was full from dinner, but he was also worn out from a long day of meeting with his advisors. Marcille had really chewed into him about something today, but you weren’t sure of the reason. Holding open the door to his room for him, you caught his tired, lingering gaze before he disappeared inside. You swallowed hard, stationing yourself outside his door, your fingers on the handle of your sword. Nights like these were hard. They were lonely. It was just you out here, manning the King’s chambers, with nothing but the memory of his mouth between your legs or his groans echoing in your ears. 

His half-lidded eyes tonight had you reeling, squeezing your thighs together as you tried to forget about how much you wanted him. It had been almost two weeks since he last kissed you. And that kiss had been quick, desperate, two people colliding in the small, unlit closet used by the maids.

Your hand enclosed around the hilt of your sword, and you nodded at two other guards walking past. If you kept losing yourself to daydreams like this, there was no way you’d be focused enough to protect Laios from an immediate threat. That’s what mattered after all: the King’s protection … the King’s protection … the King. Surely, it wasn’t wise to be so entranced with the new King of the Golden Kingdom as his sworn sword. And again, you understood why you were picked. But it was nights like this where you really wished you had just been … his lover. Hell, you’d even survive with just being a lady of the court if it meant no more secret meetings in closets.

You could’ve dwelled on this predicament for hours, if the door to the Laios’s chambers wasn’t opening.

You turned immediately, your hand on the hilt of your sword going tight. But it was just Laios, leaning against the open door and rubbing at his tired eyes. He had shed his fancy clothes for a nightshirt and loose-fitting drawers. His hair had grown a bit longer, and he refused to cut it out of spite. The way it was sticking out right now, pushed back slightly by his hand … you swore you could feel your knees buckling.

“Your Grace?” You greeted, remaining professional, until you saw that look in his eyes again. That tired, lingering gaze. Full of want, and care, and desperation for another body against his.

His eyes crinkled, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at your call. “Please, do not feel the need to call me that at this hour.” He then held out his hand, beckoning you closer.

Swallowing hard, your eyes flicker down the barren hallway before taking his hand, letting him lead you inside his bed chambers. This was the moment you’d been waiting for so long. His movements were calculated, deliberate, as he slowly shut the large door. You unhooked your belt and scabbard, setting them by the door. As you turned to him, he was already in front of you, helping you take off your armor. His fingers were slow, not in a hurry, as he fiddled with the metal fasteners. He struggled with some clasps, muttering under his breath, and you laughed softly. Each piece was set delicately on the ground, and then he was lifting off your chainmail as if it weighed nothing. You sometimes wondered how you were able to walk around with such heavy material every day since taking up this mantle.

Finally, you were left in nothing but your clothes beneath the armor: a loose red tunic and suede trousers. The relaxed nature in his eyes vanished, replaced by an intense hunger, mirroring the stance of a wolf. Laios was rushing towards you, pushing you against the wall, and pressing his mouth onto yours. You matched his desire tenfold, winding your hands into his hair as you kissed each other with desperation. His fingers fisted into the sides of your shirt, pulling you against him, while his tongue prodded into your mouth. He groaned immediately. All this time without tasting just a bit of you had him weak in the knees. He’d never go this long without kissing you ever again.

“It’s been weeks,” he muttered between kisses. Gone was the monster-obsessed adventurer who saved you from turning into a sea serpent. He’d been replaced by a King who yearned for your touch the second he saw you every morning.

“Since we last kissed,” you corrected as he pressed your back even further into the cold, stone wall. His lips broke away from yours, leaving a trail of spit connecting you two. You exhaled, “It’s been months since we were alone for longer than two minutes.”

“I know,” he sighed, now nuzzling his cheek against yours, “and I’m sorry. All I want to do is go back to the dungeon … with you. It’s just … there’s no time, and I’m so tired.” His mouth then dragged to the shell of your ear, and you shivered when his hot breath ghosted over the side of your face. “But the way you looked tonight at dinner … I don’t know … it was the way the wine made your face red … no matter how tired I was, I had to have you tonight. I missed you so much.”

You were sure that your cheeks had to be as flushed now as they were at dinner. Just his kiss alone had you wet, already wrapped around his finger. “I missed you too, Laios.”

He hardly gave you a second to continue before he was kneeling in front of you. He couldn’t wait; there was this fierce longing in his eyes that only you could cure. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your trousers as he muttered, “I need to taste you.”

Despite his desperation, he did take a moment to admire how soaked your underwear was, how he had always been the one to cause this. You looked down at him and he looked up at you. With long, expert fingers, Laios tugged your underwear down along with your trousers. Your pussy was absolutely dripping, like a goddamn faucet. A whine escaped his lips, hungry for a taste, and he spread your folds just slightly to see the wetness gather. There were just about a thousand monster dishes he enjoyed, but nothing – absolutely nothing – compared to how delicious you were.

Laios didn’t even give you time to step out of your pants and underwear. He was grasping your hips and burying his face between your legs, pushing you right back against the wall. You choked on a moan, even though you both knew you had to be quiet, but you just couldn’t help yourself. He placed one of your legs on his shoulder to give him better access, and when he finally got the first few drops of you on his tongue, he damn near started crying.

You were exquisite. You were too sweet. Sweet like Dryad fruit.

Grinding your hips against his tongue, you whined out his name and realized how badly you had needed him in this way for weeks. Your hands found purchase in his hair, tugging his face deeper into your pussy. He lapped at you, absolutely ravenous, groaning when more slick entered his mouth. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked harshly. His fingers dug into your hip, surely bruising you, while his other hand wrapped around your leg and pushed them even further apart. 

“Missed the way you tasted,” he muttered before flicking your clit with his tongue. “I could do this for hours.”

You let out a shuddering breath, already hazy from his touch. “Why don’t you then?”

“I want to,” he chuckled, all awkward and blushing. Just the sight of him looking up at you with those pretty eyes while licking a stripe up your pussy had you gasping. “Tomorrow. I promise. I just need to be inside you tonight.”

His promise for tomorrow had your heart fluttering. You both were going to make time again, but he also had more plans for you tonight. This wasn’t going to be just two minutes in a closet. Thinking of him stretching your walls with his girth, pushing into you after all these weeks of yearning for him, of touching yourself whenever you could because you just missed him so much … it all made you start to buck your hips against his tongue again. You knew how much he loved that. You physically felt him smile against you, sucking on your clit once again as he prodded one finger inside your tight warmth.

Your eyes rolled back once he found your g-spot, curling his finger and beginning to pump in and out. “Fuck, Laios, I –”

“Needed this so badly,” he confessed, swirling his tongue around your increasingly swollen clit. His cock was straining against his drawers, precum seeping through the thin fabric, but he wanted you to cum on his tongue first. It’s all he’d been dreaming about. “Needed you.”

“I needed you too,” you whispered, and then felt him add a second finger inside of you. You bit the side of your hand, muffling your moan. “So good – fuck. Doing so good, Laios –”

Your body was starting to shake, your walls clenching around his fingers. Laios was relishing in your taste, teasing your clit in the most delicious way. You were so, so close and he needed this so much and so did you and before you knew it, you were crying out into your hand again. Your pussy went tight as his fingers curled into your g-spot and you came all over his waiting tongue. Laios whimpered when he finally tasted your release, pushing his face as much as he could into your pussy, almost suffocating himself. He licked at you, making sure he got every last drop, and when your hips finally stilled, he pulled his fingers out of you with a wet pop and lapped at the excess.

Sweat ran down your brow as you settled against the wall, trying to calm your breathing. When you opened your eyes, Laios was getting to his feet and towering over you. His hand clasped around your jaw and gave you another bruising kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. It was like he was trying to devour you, to mold both of you into one so you could be together forever.

Carrying you over to the bed, he set you down on top of the blankets and finally tugged your pants and underwear from your ankles. You laughed together when he realized that he had gotten so excited he forgot to rid you of these. "Sorry," he said, setting them down in a pile.

You couldn't help but smile when you noticed the blush on his cheeks. "Missed me that much, huh?"

His face went even more pink. "Stop embarrassing me when I'm trying to seduce you."

He pulled his nightshirt over his head, and before his fingers could grasp the hem of your tunic, you were pinning him with the brute strength he forgot you acquired in the dungeon. "You don't have to do much to seduce me, Laios," you whispered in his ear, making him shudder.

Now underneath you, you straddled Laios's lap, feeling how hard he was in his drawers. He looked up at you in shock, like you were an offering from the Gods, as you lifted your tunic off and dropped it to the floor. His breathing stilled, watching the way your breasts heaved, and his cock was practically begging for release. 

You leaned down, pressing your mouth to his throat, placing sloppy kisses on areas that made his breath hitch. This was the new King of the Golden Kingdom under you, trembling from just your lips on his skin. He was wrapped around your finger just as much as you were wrapped around his. Dragging your lips down, you kissed his chest before finally swirling your tongue around one of his nipples. Laios muttered expletives under his breath as you wrapped your lips around his nipple, pinching his other one. His whole body was becoming tense underneath you, his straining erection poking against your backside, but you kept teasing him.

At the end of the day, you were always there for your King.

Once both his nipples were taut and wet from your expert tongue, you leaned back up to his face and kissed the corner of his mouth. He watched you with half-lidded eyes, cupping your face so tenderly. “Laios, I just want to be extra sure. Do you want to …?” Your question hung heavy between you two, but recognition flashed in Laios’s eyes. You nuzzled the side of his face and added, “I know you’re tired. I don’t want to keep you up if you’re that exhausted.”

“I’ve been thinking about this – about you – for weeks,” he said, his eyes filled with need. “I want this. I want you.”

You stared at him, absolutely melting at the sight of that dopey grin on his face once again, the one you loved so, so much. Now you were blushing, unable to not giggle when you saw that grin. You traced the curve of his mouth with your finger, and he bit down on the top of it unexpectedly, making you both laugh. This is why you loved Laios: everything was so easy with him.

Wait, love. Is that was this was? The burning feeling in your chest whenever he was near. The way you couldn’t help but smile whenever he did, or how you always laughed along with him. The natural disposition to protect him, whether it be from demons or people. The way you could so easily melt under his touch, under his kiss. It had always been there, staring you right in the face … love.

Feeling your heart beat rapidly in your chest, you finally moved so he could push down his drawers, and his hard cock sprang free. Precum leaked from the blushing red tip, dripping down his shaft and onto his stomach. You adored how pretty his cock was, how easily he could stretch you out with his girth. He liked the way you looked at it now, how you praised him. It took a couple of times, but he eventually stopped being embarrassed about his size around you. He still liked to give you monster facts as he fucked you sometimes – as a treat.

Laios’s hands settled on your hips as you lifted yourself, positioning yourself above his cock. You wrapped your hand around his shaft to get the perfect angle, smearing his precum and making him hiss. “Did … did you know,” he said, voice strangled, “the maximum speed of a Red Dragon is approximately – oh, fuck – 60 kilometers per hour?”

“Mhmm …” You hummed, finally lowering yourself with his help, sinking down onto his cock slowly. Once he slipped a few inches inside your warm, wet walls, you both gasped. You placed your free hand on his chest and encouraged, “Tell me more, Laios.”

“Gods …” He breathed out, feeling your body quiver above him. “I … uh – fuck … people have theorized that changelings – shit – use their ability to change living things in order to propagate their species – fuck, almost there –”

You both let out a breath of relief once he was finally seated inside you. Laios sat up, tugging you more against him, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You stayed there for a moment, adjusting to his size once again, clinging to him as he kissed your cheek and murmured how you took him so well. You’d probably never get used to how big he was, but he filled you so nicely, so completely. After making sure you were comfortable, Laios decided to take the reins and began moving you on his cock. You whimpered after the first pass, and he had to grip your hips so tightly just to stop himself from going overboard, wanting to make this last just a little while longer. Each roll of your hips had you mewling as his cock curved inside you, brushing your spongy g-spot. His fingers dug into your skin, rocking you back and forth, grinding your already oversensitive clit against his pelvis. 

Burying your face into his neck, you let him start to bounce you on his cock. He groaned, feeling himself throb inside your tight heat. Everything about you was perfect: from the way you fit him inside of you so nicely to the way you whined against his skin, begging for more. He was thoroughly obsessed with you. It was a miracle that it took him so long to initiate with you after the Golden Kingdom had risen. He found himself thinking about your touch, about your taste, more often than not. And the way you smiled at him, your laughter sounding like wind chimes in a busy street market … he knew how deep his feelings went, farther than he expected. He was the King but you were the one who brought him to his knees every time.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he groaned, biting and sucking on the side of your neck. “You always feel so good … so warm …”

He started thrusting up into you when his arms got a little tired, and you let him simply take control. There was so little control he had in his life now, especially since he was being watched almost all the time, so you’d give him this – you’d give him you. And gods, did it feel good to just melt into him, to not be his sworn sword, just for a little while. Right now, you two were just lovers, desperate to soothe each other’s ache.

The expansive bedroom was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and moans echoing off the ceiling. Your arousal oozed out with each roll of your hips, dripping onto the lavish blankets befit for a King. But neither of you seemed to give a damn as his nails created crescent shapes in your hips, and you squeezed around him so much that he choked on a whimper. With your face nuzzling the crook of his neck, you carded your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly and eliciting another sound from him.

“Did you also know,” he began in a strained tone, “fuck – wargs have no fear of monsters larger than themselves – please, fuck – not even … not even dragons?”

“Are we still doing that?” You snorted, lifting your head from his neck.

He laughed along with you, and now you both were looking into each other’s eyes as he thrust up into you, hitting the best spots. He leaned down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, moaning at the way you squirmed. His tongue moved to lick up the valley between your breasts, almost animalistic, before his mouth was grazing yours and his eyes were burning into you like melted gold. You clung onto him tighter, your chest flush against him, and you knew then that this wasn’t just fucking anymore. Laios was making love to you and you were making love to him and – fuck, he was going to make you cum so hard to make up for the past few weeks.

You were creating an absolute mess on top of him, just a blabbering heap of moans and whines, eyes locked on his as you rode him into oblivion. “I’m gonna cum,” you mewled, unable to keep your voice level. Your fingers tugged on his hair again, and he responded by downright slamming you up and down his thick cock.

“I know. It’s okay. I know.” One of his hands left your hip to reach in between your bodies, where you both were linked, and two fingers began to circle your clit. You hissed, back arching even more into him. Your vow to be quiet long forgotten as he teased your ache. “That’s it … there you go.”

Laios knew his strength, and it was certainly showing it off tonight. He was rocking your hips on his cock – so close to release – while rubbing your clit in tight circles. His sweet nothings in your ear had you crying out his name, and after a few more messy passes, you were cumming around him. You were shaking like fresh mandrake in his arms. Your walls squeezed him so tight that it only took one more thrust up into you before he was emptying himself into you. He came with a lewd groan, his hands falling to his sides and leaving you to bounce yourself on his cock through his release. Eventually, when the wave after wave of pleasure settled between you both, you slumped against him and breathed heavily. And he just held you, burying his face in your neck and licking at the bites he left on your bruised skin.

When you lifted your head to kiss him, he surprised you by rolling you onto your back, his soft cock slipping out and leaving you feeling empty. He kneeled at the end of the bed and spread your legs wide open, letting your combined releases spill out. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and the anguish in his tone stunned you. “It’s been weeks, and I just … I need you.”

As soon as the word, “Please,” left your lips, he was diving in again, spreading your folds with two fingers. He licked a long stripe through your pussy, gathering your releases on his tongue. He didn’t care that he was tasting his own cum; all he wanted was this – you. He lapped at you, still starving for your taste, and the way he had you cumming again was slow, calculated. Laios edged you, teetering you on the brink of release, before his hunger got the best of him. And when you came again on his tongue, it felt long and relaxing, like a weight had been lifted off you. Warmth seeped from your aching pussy and onto his tongue. He drank his fill, relishing in your sweetness.

Laios rose back on the bed, curling against your side like a tamed dire wolf. His arms slotted against you, pulling your naked front against his once again. His hand lifted to your cheek, pushing strands of hair behind your ear. Your noses brushed against each other, and he finally kissed you, slowly and passionately. There was no desperation left in him. It was replaced by the steady rhythm of his heart next to yours. 

“I love you, Laios,” you blurted in the softest voice you could muster. Once you realized what you said, you didn’t dare open your eyes to see his reaction. You simply felt him, his lips hovering just over yours, and then he hummed.

“I love you too,” he whispered, and your eyes opened to watch him. That dazed grin appeared once again, making your insides twist and your cheeks tinged pink.

Laios practically giggled and pecked your lips just to soothe your nerves. “I’m not sure how to handle you like this,” he joked, finally making you laugh with him. “Usually, you’re the one making me nervous.”

“I just …” You shook your head. “I was afraid you wouldn’t say it back.”

“I thought it was obvious that I’ve been in love with you since we first met,” he said in that straightforward tone of his. His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones and he smiled. “Seems like I’m cooler than I thought.”

You chuckled, hitting his chest and making him fall back onto the bed. You were sitting up slightly, propping your elbow and resting your chin in your hand. Laios was looking up at you like you put the stars in the sky. Both of you knew, instinctively, that a King being intimate with his sworn protector was typically frowned upon. Neither of you truly cared, but the opinions of his people had to matter. He was a new King after all, and every move of his would be scrutinized. Which left him with one option.

Lacing his fingers with yours, he said, “We should get married.”

Your brow furrowed. “That seems a little rash.”

It was your gut instinct to deflect, to push him away, even when you scooted yourself closer to him. But you couldn’t deny that this had been in the back of your mind, shoved in the dark corners when you thought it might be too crazy of an idea. The first time it popped into your brain was when you saw Laios’s monster form lying helpless on the ground. His body was deteriorating, blood seeping out from every crevice of the three-headed creature. The Winged Lion had been defeated, but you couldn’t stop the wail that erupted from your mouth as you took in Laios’s monster body, reeking of death and despair. You remembered running from from the tower, taking one of the heads in your arms, and crying, your tears soaking the fur. 

But then you and Marcille found him amongst the trees of the island, where Falin’s body had been frozen and resting against a boulder. From the moment his eyes met yours, you had no doubt that this was your Laios. And he was okay. He was tired, but he was okay. You didn’t think you could shed any more tears, but then you were running towards him, wrapping your arms around him, and he was burying his face in your neck and – gods, that had to be when you knew. With the relief flooding through you and his arms embracing you … you knew then that you wanted to be with him forever. You didn’t want to see him in harm’s way ever again. You would kill – again and again – for him. You would be by his side as long as he would have you. You loved him. You wanted him. Forever.

Laios snorted, bringing you out of the memory. “Rash? After how long we’ve known each other?” His tone grew serious. “I trust you with my life. That’s why I named you my sword. But I don’t want to go weeks without you ever again. I love you – I’m in love with you – and I know that I don’t want anyone else by my side.” He squeezed your fingers in his own. “I want to marry you. And then, we can be together freely with you as my Queen and sword sword.” He then paused, thinking. “We can do that, right?”

You laughed. “You’re the King. You can make your own rules, but …” Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip for a moment as you mulled over his words. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”

“I’ve never been more certain about anything.” He then tapped his chin, feigning curiosity. “Unless you want me to marry Marcille? It would certainly be a loveless marriage, but she can be friendly when she isn’t advising me.”

Shaking you head, you flicked his arm. “Not sure if your sister would appreciate that. Or Marcille, for that matter.” Not even magic could force those two apart. They would love each other until the end of time.

Your eyes narrowed now. “Are you actually proposing to me without a ring, Your Grace?”

The formality made him cringe, but then his face relaxed as he stared up at you, taking in your beauty. You were the most beautiful like this, vulnerable and bare with your hair jutting out at every angle and your lips swollen from kissing him. But he’d reckon you were beautiful in every light. He couldn’t help but also think back to when you found him by Falin’s crystalized form, how it felt to just hold you again after such an egregious fight. Your warmth had seeped into him, reminding him of home. You were home. And that was when he knew, too, that he wanted to be bound to you. 

Laios brought your joined hands to his lips, kissing each of your knuckles. “Once the sun rises, you will get a proper proposal. I’ve always been a man of my word, haven’t I?”

And that he was. Because the moment you stirred awake the next morning, still sleeping in his bed, you opened your eyes to find Laios, King of Golden Kingdom, kneeling at your bedside. He held out a ring to you, eagerly awaiting your response. Once your eyes adjusted to the light and you saw his golden doe eyes, his big grin, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Of course, you said, Yes.