#something something actively choosing to be part of this even though it would be much easier NOT to be

[penvisions]

finding your place {part one}

Pairing: Din Djarin x F! Reader

Summary: A simple job that seems like a handout, an offhand comment, and suddenly you find yourself the caretaker for a little green child. You don't mind spending your nighttime hours with him but his father on the other hand makes you a little uncomfortable because you feel like a nuisance in his space...

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: reader has female features but nothing overly descriptive, star wars content that may or may not be canon, domestic setting, pining, reader thinks din is intimidating, perceived silent treatment, din is awkward but it comes off as rude (cause he's just like that lol), more to be added but this is pretty tame

A/N: just a little idea that popped into my head and held me hostage until i jotted it down

ao3 link || navigation || ko-fi

It starts with a favor from Karga. Greef Karga, the High Magistrate of the world you’ve found yourself settling on. You’re just a simple maintenance worker in the building he occupies for work. He preferred droids but decided to either take a chance on you or take pity on you to keep his office neat and tidy during the day, fetching things he may need from around the city and sitting in to take notes on meetings and comm calls. It’s an easy job, though taxing in its own ways.

A fussy green child who needs a bit of help calming down, a light weight in your arms as you sit and hold him. He’s not outright crying but he’s making a lot of sounds that tug on your heartstrings. You’ve never met the little guy before but he’s clinging to you like he’s comfortable, pressing his little button nose into your shoulder and his ears wiggle in little flaps.

Karga flitted around in his pretty robes, the fabric hushing quietly as he does so until it was time for lunch. Dismissed for the hour with a wave of his hand, you’re now wandering around the stalls that offer so much to choose from in the city center. The streets are lined, packed, a little loud but you walk smoothly through the crowd of people with the enamored bundle in your arms.

Everything is under control, the exchange of credits for a good spread of snacks and a bright blue shake of milk and fruit with jelly like orbs at the bottom bring out happy coos and babbles from the child as you settle on the concrete circling around a large tree. The shade allows for some relief from the high sun, the brightness shining down with no regard for your poor eyes.

After inhaling the food you purchased, the hour is nearly up. You’re about to scale the stairs that lead up to the building’s entrance when a modulated voice startles you.

“You don’t even know his name.” Looking over you see none other than the silver Mandalorian you’ve glimpsed around the city. Karga’s mentioned him a few times, citing the city’s ability to turn a new leave in part to the man. You’ve also filed the paperwork to start a credit deposit for him, though you weren’t sure what his new role would be just yet.

His presence feels intense, a silent threat if his words were any indication- aimed at you with an edge to them. Something accusatory even if you had no idea why he approaching you now of all times. You kept to yourself, never stepping out of line in regards to the law or at work, and now as you’re doing Karga a favor outside of your normal activities is when he decided to approach you.

“Uh, no, sir, I don’t,” Your fingers tighten around the child, holding him closer to your chest as he continues to sleep soundly. His belly full and his heart happy from the outing. “I really should get back inside, my boss is probably waiting for me and this little guy needs to-”

“I’ll take him.” The Mandalorian pushes off from where he was leaning against the column that makes up part of the stairs. The sun shines brightly off his armor, the silver of the beskar mesmerizing and intimidating all at once. Regardless, you feel protective over the bundle in your arms and not just for the sake of your continued employment.

“No offense, but I don’t know who you are and I’ve been instructed to look after him.”

“Shouldn’t have been.” His gloved hands move to his waist, the stance making you feel like you were about to be lectured.

“Excuse me?” Your eyes narrow, not liking the underlying accusation in his monotone words. You weren’t one to rise to threats or push conversations into anything beyond what they are, but you feel anger rise in your chest- tight and hot as you realize he has a problem with you.

But the armored man doesn’t say anything further, he just walks away and up into the building, leaving you standing there feeling a little more than confused and annoyed at the exchange.

“Ah, you’re back!” Karga greet loudly as you scan your badge to enter his office. He’s seated behind his desk, the Mandalorian from outside in one of the two chairs on the other side of it. “As I was saying, I put my assistant here in charge of looking after him and judging by the way she’s managed to calm him down- all is well, Mando.”

“She took him outside of the building.”

“Did she now?” Karga doesn’t seem to feel the same way as the man, the Mandalorian currently staring you down, his dark visor pinned on you as you move to set the sleeping child in the pod he arrived in.

“Just to get some food, it was my lunch break.” You don’t bother explaining to the severe man that it was an unpaid break and that you didn’t have to continue looking after the child but that you hadn’t minded spending more time with him nor spending your hard earned credits to get him something to eat. It wouldn’t matter, it seems you’re already on his list of people he doesn’t like.  

“Someone could’ve taken him from her.”

“Nonsense, she’s trained!” Karga looks you over with a thoughtful arch to his brow. “Right?”

The scoff that comes through the modulator is harsh.

“I left him to you- not the school and not to her. To you.” The Mandalorian points an accusatory finger at the magistrate, who merely waves it off.

“Well, seeing as this is between the two of you,” You adjust your tunic and reach for the toolbox you left in the office earlier. “I’ll get back to adjusting the coding for the lower floors- figure out why some clearance badges were working, and some weren’t earlier this morning.”

“You’ve got to loosen up, Mando.” Is the last thing you hear before the doors close behind you and you go back to your day as if nothing happened. Except, the more problems you run into with the coding the more annoyed you feel and the more lectured you feel for simply following the command of your boss by looking over the child for the first half of your day.

You understand being protective, you get being cautious, but you were trained and more than capable of watching over the child. You might not have armor, let alone Mandalorian armor, or a plethora of weapons but you had a vibro blade and a blaster. More than enough to stand your ground in case someone approached you or tried something.

Once the coding is fixed, you make your way down to the ground floor. Just as you’re pressing your own badge against the sensor to a room off of the main entrance, a loud cheer has you whipping around. Securely in his pod, the kid is practically bouncing in place and holding his hands out to you as it shifts direction toward you. Sighing, the armored man follows behind until they’re both in front of you.

You wave hesitantly at the kid, eyes flitting up to the visor you feel trained on you, the man’s gaze heavy from behind the helmet.

“He likes you.” Is what he says to break the silence.

“I fed him, that’s all it is.” You wave a hand to dismiss their attention, not wanting to chance angering the man further.

“Karga said he was wailing for an hour until you calmed him down.”

“In my defense, Karga tried his best for most of that hour. He calmed down after I started humming to him.” It was simple really, a cradle to your chest, a little bit of bouncing, a little bit of humming, and then he was as calm as could be.

“You’re good with him. He likes you.”

“Um, okay. Well, I’ve got more work to get done,” You jut a thumb over your shoulder towards the door you were about to disappear through. Unsure of what to make of this exchange but wanted it to end all the same.

“You work here full time?”

“Excuse me?”

“You…have evenings free?” Your brows rise at the phrasing, unsure of where he was going with the line of questioning.

“Uh, yeah mostly.”

“You enjoy this work? With Karga?”

“It’s work, but mostly.” Your eyes bounce from him to the child still vying for your attention, so you reach out a hand and his little claw latches on tight. He uses it as purchase to start climbing out of his pod. Both of you reach for him at the same time, gloved hands brushing yours as the child continues to move toward you and into your arms. Your heart rachets up as the man steps closer, clearly within your personal space.

His visor trained on you, the even way he’s breathing, all of it makes you feel dizzy and a little overwhelmed. But the child in your arms doesn’t seem to care about his overly protective father, as he reaches up to pat his little palm against your cheek and giggles loudly.

“Ba-ba-ba!” His little voice gets louder and louder as you blow air into your cheeks to inflate them, the sound his palm makes changing and pulling a squeal from him. Neither of you flinch at the high pitch, but you do feel your heart stutter in your chest.

“I…have to be gone for a couple nights, to do some work for Karga.”

“Um…okay?” Your eyes don’t leave the happy face of the squirming kid, the visor is a little intimidating, a little mysterious, and a little attractive with how its framed on the helmet.

“Grogu…would be in good hands if you were to watch him.” A babble, a pat of his palm and the air thickens around you both.

You don’t respond right away, waiting for the man to expand on what he means. A little cruel perhaps, with your growing knowledge of him being a man of few words but you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s been…an odd one to interact with and you aren’t sure how to respond anyway.

“I have a house, out on the flats. There is a spare room. I….would pay you and supply a food stipend.” You glance up at him, the wall of armor he makes. He seems genuine in his roundabout proposal, Karga trusts him, he’s obviously protective over his son. You soften at the offer to spend more time with the kid, to have something to do with your nights other than going home to an empty apartment.

“To watch Grogu.” At the sound of his name coming from you, Grogu laughs and claps his hands together.

“Yes.”

“I, uh…yeah, yes. Okay, how does that sound to you, huh?” You bring a hand up to boop his button nose and he delights in the action. He reaches for your own nose and you lean down a little for him to reach it. When he makes to mirror your action, you open your mouth and pretend to nibble on his reaching fingers.

“You trust me?”

“Karga said I could.” He intones, though it sounds more like something he feels needs to be said rather than what he really wants to say. But you can gauge the minimal truth in his words, Karga does trust you and you know he would defend you against the Mandalorian’s concerns and questions.

“Okay, um, what do…I call you?” You place Grogu back into his pod and boop his nose once more before you reach into your pocket and hand him the last of the cookies from lunch. A few of them, nothing too crazy. He greedily shovels one in his mouth as he settles into the blanket around him.

“Mando is fine.”

“It’s not…diminutive?” You step to the side, needing more breathing air than was allowed with how close he was. From those first steps to potentially catch Grogu when he rushed toward you.

“Everyone calls me that.” He says it like it doesn’t bother him, like it doesn’t matter what people refer to him as, so long as it isn’t his given name. But you wonder all the same, what it might be.

“…okay. Um, well, I have to finish making new badges for the staff.” You brandish your own badge at him, your name displayed on it. Your comm link code is printed neatly on it as well and you watch him punch it into the cuff over his wrist.

“Come over tomorrow after work and I’ll show you around the place.”

“Sounds good, see you then.” You wiggle your fingers at Grogu before scanning your badge and walking into the maintenance office. You feel his gaze follow you until the door shuts completely. You wait with bated breath until you hear his steps continue through the entranceway and out the front doors before you lean forward to rest your hands on your desk and hang your head between them.

Huffing out, you can’t help the slightly hysterical laugh that filters past your lungs.

What the hell have you just gotten yourself into? Grogu you could handle, but Mando, you have no idea how to interact with the wall of armor that doesn’t seem to like you but was told he could trust you with his son.

taglist: @mandaloriankait @sawymredfox @copperhalfcent @mosssbawls @jessthebaker @evolnoomym @saradika @djarins-cyare @grogusmum @furiousmushroom

dividers and banners by the lovely @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics

[phoenixglacier]

Do you actually think that like in the lore our sweet little bard would have voted to destroy a nation? I do see the evidence for that take it lines up. but it just seems so discordant with his character

Hi. Asking me a question just gives me permission to ramble even more. Apologies in advance.

I have no faith in my ability to predict anything canonically whatsoever. If Genshin wanted to give Venti the ability to shapeshift into a cat in the next update I'm sure we could find a goblet or something somewhere in the game that backs it up. So I don't really have a strong opinion on whether this is what the developers intended as canon.

However, in terms of whether I think it's compatible with his character, I don't think it's that much of a stretch. I kind of covered in my rambley little posts about this, but to sum up what I'm about to say here, I think the fact that it's so unlike him is exactly what makes this interesting.

In a way, Venti's the most godlike in how he helps his people. He performs "miracles" that others cannot, talking to dragons, summoning wind currents, and ferrying souls into the afterlife. He is invested in the emotional wellbeing of his people and spends the first part of his story quest trying to understand them. When he asks Flora about her imaginary friend, his voice turns gentle and serious compared to when he's speaking with Traveler. When Dvalin was attacking Mondstadt in the Prologue, Venti was adamant that he would not kill Dvalin. He firmly believed in his ability to resolve the entire situation peacefully, even when his people didn't necessarily agree.

The way he helps his people, allowing them to find their own way, never truly imposing his own opinions on them, and appearing to want to connect to them as humans, makes it feel unthinkable that he would take such active, drastic action. It feels like Venti is both unlikely to take drastic action and unlikely to be cruel. He has a reputation as a kind, gentle, benevolent god. As a character who is kind, loving, and larger than life, we expect Venti stands for all the right things that we personally have decided are right in our morals.

It would make Venti a flawed god to be kind only to his own people, to consider the citizens of Mondstadt to be more worthy of happiness than those outside its bounds, to choose to sacrifice others for the sake of his own. If he's this kind to his own children, one might expect him to be just as kind to others. It would be incongruent with Venti's image as a champion of freedom, opposer of tyranny, gentle wind of spring, if he was able to turn a blind eye to the suffering of others. He is so so emotional when he sees his people struggling. Surely, surely, this applies to all of humanity, as it should?

There are at least three great stories in Mondstadt and Venti's history that involve felling a singular evil for the sake of Mondstadt. The first is Decarabian, the second is the Lawrence clan, and the third is Durin. Though the Church of Favonius often talk about Barbatos' forgiving nature, Venti is quick to villainise these actors in history and pin them as warnings to his people.

I think it would be easy for Venti to have made this terrible, cruel choice and regret it far, far too late. I think we are all faced with unclear choices everyday, with stakes that are merely not the same. I think to those alive in the time of the war, this would have been almost like the trolley problem - People are going to die. Is it our right to choose who that is? Maybe some gods thought that they could beat the Abyss in a fight, maybe some gods thought their nations were far enough away that they would survive, maybe some gods thought with a little more research they would stumble upon a yet-unknown but ideal solution. Maybe Venti was thinking logically when he made this choice, or maybe he was emotional and unusually bitter, or maybe it was both.

But I'd tell you that his sweet, kind nature is exactly why I like the idea that he has such a thing to be responsible for. A character like Venti who would be crushed under the weight of doing something that he realises is so antithetical to the person he wants to be is interesting. Doesn't it inform how we view his insistence that he stay out of his people's lives? His conviction that he is no better a ruler, that the lives of millions of people should never be decided by the cold-hearted or emotional whims of one person? He fears becoming just like Decarabian, the dictator he overthrew. He fears becoming like the aristocracy, who trampled upon others while performing the festivals that he designed, the dances that he made, the clothes that he wore too, the flamboyant culture he was so so proud of, now symbols of oppression. By his friend's side he killed the dragon that was terrorising his people, and then Dvalin awoke following in Durin's footsteps. A god who looks back on his three thousand year history and remembers all his failures first. A god who always thinks twice before he speaks, who never wants to give an order, who longs for the innocence of the wishes of children. A god whose decisions have resulted in terrible, long-lasting consequences. Who knows that even the decision to do nothing is still a choice. There is no such thing as sitting on the sidelines as the god of Mondstadt, and Venti knows that. But that line between being a kind god and a cruel one is so blurry.

Since its introduction, Khaenri'ah has been framed as a tragedy that Teyvat as a whole is responsible for, and the urge to file it under the workings of a big bad evil simply doesn't give it as much narrative weight as it has held for all this time up until now. Allowing the archons to continue taking responsibility for their part in it keeps Khaenri'ah a complex storyline even after the veil of mystery has been removed.

Faced with the simple fact that Khaenri'ah was destroyed, Traveler immediately knows it's wrong. It's wrong because all these human beings lost their lives, and that in itself is sad and cruel. But it's also wrong because the decision was not made in some picture-book sacrifice of themselves for the greater good, rather the gods of other nations whose personal interests lay in protecting their own people first made the decision. Elsewhere in Teyvat, sacrificing oneself for the greater good has been necessary and acceptable again and again. It must be said that the gods had no right to make that choice on behalf of Khaenri'ah, but it's not a leap to see how they may have come to this solution, simply on a larger scale. It is easy for them to be detached, harrowed by the war, aligned by the shared enemy, grieving, fearful, and then make what they coldly believed to be a last resort, a cruel but necessary choice. They see themselves as surgeons doing an amputation, doctors sending the worst to quarantine, oncologists fighting with aggressive chemo. And then the dust settles, and they see that these were people, and that what they did cannot be taken back. That they have blood on their hands, and it haunts them. And they must ask themselves, What other choice did I have? And not as a rhetorical question, but truly, When the Abyss comes again, what other choice do I have?

We want to imagine that we are all good people, and that at the end of the story, good will defeat bad and rewards will be issued to the good, as is our ideal world order. But instead, people do things, with generous intentions, with selfish intentions, with all sorts of consequences that one can barely hope to comprehend. People screw up. People believe too much in their convictions and fail through them. People who want to be good have to work to be competent, informed, empathetic, generous, and forgiving. When a person in a position like Venti fails, the results are catastrophic, but there is no one to lay justice upon him. Only him and his own desperate desire to do better.

Isn't that so interesting?

Of course, headcanon anything you want about Venti. It's not any less canon than my opinions unless Hoyo shows it onscreen. :D

[marvelstoriesepic]

⚝ 2k Drabble Challenge Poll ⚝

Hello you sweet beans!! ❤︎❤︎

As promised, and after a little well-needed breather, I am ready to dive into a continuation of one of the fics from my 2k Drabble Challenge.

I took some time to focus on other things, but now I can feel the motivation creeping back in and I’ve picked out the stories I can most see myself returning to and exploring further. Below, you will find the poll where you get to decide which fic should get a second part.

The fic with the most votes will definitely get a continuation, and if inspiration (and time) allow, I might even write for the second or third most voted ones as well ❤︎

You are very welcome to let me know what kind of continuation you would like to see for your favorite, and what ideas you have. Though I might not be able to write exactly that if I already have a slightly different direction brewing, or I may not feel creatively sparked by certain suggestions. Still, your thoughts mean the world to me and always help keep me inspired, so don’t hold back!

I’ll be linking the fics and adding a short summary for each one under the poll in case you need a little memory refresh or haven’t read them yet.

Thank you so much again for being part of this with me!! I can’t wait to see what y’all choose! ❤︎

Powdered Sugar [3.1k]

Summary: Your friend group is having a night out at the local carnival. Bucky is his charming self and you are tired of pretending it doesn’t affect you.

Wear My Heart [2k]

Summary: Bucky discovers his long-lost match in a client. But is he even meant to have you with the mark erased from his own body?

Eyes made of Starlight [1.8k]

Summary: You are drawn into a royal masquerade by a mysterious woman with a magical mask.

Your Ghost Knows Me [2.3k]

Summary: On a mission to dismantle a Hydra base, Bucky’s activation codes are triggered. And what does he do without a kill order?

Look at Me Like That Again [1.3k]

Summary: Bucky desperately needs your attention while you’re on shift in his bar.

I Would Let the World Burn [2.4k]

Summary: You attend a public Avengers event as Bucky’s girlfriend for the first time, but things spiral from nerves to chaos in a matter of seconds. And when you’re caught in the crossfire, Bucky unleashes.

Train Me in Resistance [2.5k]

Summary: You finally give in to your annoyingly hot and impossibly persistent roommate’s offer for a personal training session.

Lie Better [1.9k]

Summary: After a failed mission, you hide an injury to avoid looking weak. But you can’t escape Bucky’s watchful gaze.

The Splinter and the Spark [3.2k]

Summary: Your cabin’s heating breaks in times when you need it, so you try yourself at chopping firewood. But the last person you want help from is your smug, axe-swinging neighbor.

Mad for You [3.1k]

Summary: You are a simple maid who cleans the mansion of the Bucky Barnes, always staying in the background. But when one of his men sees you as a target for assault, and manipulates you into taking the blame for something you didn’t do, you are pushed directly into Bucky’s focus.

[gwynbleiddyn]

The Lovers and The Chariot for Kerros?

→ from this rook tarot ask game

OH these are fun 👀thank you!!

The Lovers: Who is your Rook's most significant relationship within the Veilguard? How do they help Rook feel seen and understood?

Kerros is quick to fall for people, but incredibly slow to love them. On the other side of that, Lucanis is a deeply perceptive man who - in spite (hah) of his own uncertainty - can see Kerros for who he is: a hurricane of his own making, hiding deceptively still waters at the eye. There is a part of him that cannot move forward, yet, and Lucanis has the patience to wait for it. This is the fundament, the immutable, unchanging ground of understanding which they both value more than gold or contracts.

Because they have that solid ground between them, I think it makes it easier then to tolerate their differences.

Kerros is loud and brash, painted in every colour of Rivain from Dhavan'an to Dairsmuid. He's a comedian more than a diplomat, he knows how to ruffle feathers and does so willingly, and sometimes, just sometimes, Lucanis wishes he would at least attempt to exercise the smallest bit of self-preservation. He isn't for the faint of heart, but Lucanis is anything but.

And it works the other way too: Lucanis' self-imposed grey clouds are easily swept away by Kerros, but only ever to bring him some measure of warmth and comfort, and never to leave him exposed and vulnerable without reason. I like to think Lucanis appreciates that - that despite Kerros being a whirlwind, he still lets Lucanis move at his own pace. And there's Spite, gnashing and gnawing at the chance to put Kerros in his place, driven by the innate desire to hurt, but everything he throws at Kerros seems to be water off a seabird's feathers. It gives Lucanis a little bit of peace to know he can relax in Kerros' presence. Maybe even sleep.

There's a multitude of reasons that sit in-between those two pillars, but it begins and ends with the opposite of spite.

The Chariot: How does Rook fight? What are their preferred abilities and damage type?

Tricks, traps, and all manner of terrible tools form the basis of Kerros' combat prowess. He's a rogueish type to begin with, preferring the distance of a bow, or the fluidity and the motion behind a pair of daggers or shortswords that grants him freedom of movement across a battlefield. But it's his knack for knowing when to use turrets and traps that give him an edge when situations get a little hairy.

The initial interest stems from his close relationship to his grandfather, Amrun, whose ship he spent a lot of time on growing up. Amrun became something of a quartermaster for Isabela, acquiring some less than legal cargo usually in the form of dangerous weaponry and gaatlok, and so Kerros got to learn the tools of the trade fairly early on. Or at least, how not to get on the wrong side of them.

In-game, Kerros goes all-in on the Saboteur specialization which gives him excellent crowd control capabilities and a lot of get out of jail buttons to smash when things go tits up. He tends to lead with Fortune's Turret and then pick off enemies with a bow before they get too close. He also deals a lot of poison/necro damage, slowing enemies down and taking out the trash relatively easily.

[kaijutegu]

Alligator Bites Might Never Heal, But Doechii Is Good At Holding Alligators

Doechii won the Grammy for Best Rap Album for Alligator Bites Never Heal, but she also should have won the coveted and definitely not fictitious "Best Alligator Handling" award for the way she held Coconut on the cover!

(Yes, it's this Coconut.)

And the best part? She released a BTS video showing how they shot the cover, meaning that we can see more than just the still image! If a picture's worth a thousand words, video's worth... a lot more. (Sorry if it autoplays I don't think I have any control over that either way)

So, using the photoshoot images and video as evidence, let's take a look at how Doechii handled this alligator very well! I'm going to go into excruciating detail here because I think it's important to know why something is good just as much as it is important to know why something is bad. It's hard to understand alligator body language a lot of the time, so in this writeup, I will address how Doechii's holding the gator and what she's doing right, as well as point out how you can tell from Coconut's reactions that she is not distressed.

Body Support

In the album cover image, Doechii is seated, which is good, because even though she's a small alligator, Coconut is a very strong and powerful creature. That tail is pure muscle! But even in the standing images, you can see that Doechii is giving Coconut great body support and holding her correctly- close to the body, but without grabbing too tightly or being restrained uncomfortably. I think for a gator of this size I would have recommended pinning the back foreleg against her body for a little additional support and movement restriction- but I don't think she had to restrict movement because Coconut seems quite relaxed!

In the seated image, Doechii has one hand under Coconut's chest, supporting her sternum and head. The other hand is on top of her tail, and her knee is under the pelvic girdle. This type of hold lets the alligator feel safe; remember that these are aquatic and terrestrial creatures. An insecure hold that risks dropping them is going to stress them out and make them uncomfortable. By holding the alligator gently against her body and not squeezing, she's avoiding any uncomfortable pressure.

Head and Throat Support

In all of the images, Doechii is bringing her hand under Coconut's neck, creating a cradle with her hand so that the alligator can rest her head. But what she's not doing is she is not squeezing or grabbing the throat. The throat is one of the soft bits of an alligator, and squeezing it too tightly is very uncomfortable for them. But the way Doechii is supporting her gives her several degrees of freedom to move her head if she so chooses.

Body Language

Another indication of good handling is that it's clear that Coconut is not uncomfortably stressed. Alligators express displeasure with being held in a lot of ways, including struggling to get away, hissing, and holding their mouths open. (If you want to know more and see my sources, you can read my post on alligator body language. LOTS of info there, including peer-reviewed ethology sources that explain what alligators do and why they do it! Go get your data-driven answers!)

But Coconut isn't doing that; she's calm and alert. You can see in the BTS video that she's active on set. She's not shut down, and when she wants to walk around, she's not restrained. Obviously the video is an edited timelapse, and it's not the whole story- but when people show alligators in media, they usually don't know enough about them to edit out any uncomfortable body language. So I think that if she had been upset, we would have seen that.

We can also see in the video that Coconut is unbanded, meaning her mouth was not held shut. I thought they might have banded her and then edited the band out for the cover, but no, there was nothing restricting any distress cues. Banding is usually done for public safety, but the facility Coconut's from... doesn't do that, so I'm not surprised she's unbanded. At least it gives more evidence that she's not trying to gape!

One more good indicator that Coconut was comfortable is that she's got her eyes open, which you can even kinda see in the video if you zoom in. Reptiles will often squinch their eyes shut to avoid distressing stimuli or signal distress, and albino alligators have even more reasons to do this. They're much more sensitive to light than their pigmented counterparts. But it looks like her on-set work was completed quickly, meaning that she didn't have to be around bright lights for long.

In conclusion:

Doechii's album cover is an example of good alligator handling. Yay!

That said, please note that this is only about handling and is divorced from any other issues surrounding this particular alligator. (Read the body language post if you want more on that.) These are not issues I'm touching in this post, because that's not the point! I simply want to point out an instance of good handling and how you can identify relaxed body language in an animal that is notoriously hard to read when posted on social media.

[sitronsangbody]

Please, please be considerate of your fat friends' needs and limitations. Fat bodies are heavy to carry around. I move about the world slower than my thin peers, and I've often had to choose between pushing myself to keep a pace that takes absolutely all my energy, or being left behind, when walking in a group. I don't always feel safe to ask that everyone walk slower, because there's a prevalent idea in society that fat people need to exert themselves as much as possible at all times in the service of weight loss, and that we never "really" need rest, therefore it's a good thing whenever we're exhausted. Fat people and thin people alike are taught that fatness is a flaw, one that fat people ourselves are to blame for, so we're not entitled to any accommodation or consideration. A friend of mine who is fat recently told me about a dinner party she went to where the chairs were far too small for her and she was sitting very uncomfortably. After the meal she politely suggested moving the party to the couch, but the others didn't want to. She spent another couple of hours in unnecessary pain, and didn't dare tell them about it. I love my thin friends, but some of them just don't realize that I weigh probably twice as much as them, and yet I balance it all on the same size feet and carry it on about the same size bones. I'm like if they had a whole other them to carry around at all times. Why would that not have an impact on how I function? Please - take us into consideration when we're part of activities. Ask us which activities work and which don't. Adjust the pace so no one has to be dry heaving and sweating barrels on what's supposed to be a casual walk. Make sure venues have seating that fits us. Make it safe for us to speak up if we need something. When we do, don't treat us like we're the problem. Finally: yes, we have heard of losing weight. Even those of us who might (and many never will, whether you like it or not), won't do it on a moment's notice. If your response to "fat people deserve accommodations" is "what if they weren't fat though", you're playing a fantasy game. It's pointless. We are fat and we are here and we do partake in society. Work with that.

[itendtothinkalot]

u talk, i listen

summary: you’re loud, dramatic, and one emotional spiral away from a breakdown. he’s quiet, calm, and allergic to unnecessary words. at first, you drive him insane but maybe that’s part of your charm. you make the chaos, and he makes sure you don’t burn the whole world down with it.

genre: fluff | hyper gf x calm bf

characters: sunghoon x f!reader

words: 13k

warnings: none i think!

The first time you met Park Sunghoon, you’re pretty sure he hates you.

To be fair, it was your first day, and Ni-ki—who you knew for exactly ten minutes—told you pressing the green button on the espresso machine would help "wake it up."

It did not.

Instead, it made the machine scream, shoot steam into your face, and sent you stumbling backward with a noise that sounded suspiciously like a dying goose. A tray of croissants nearly went down with you.

“OH MY GOD—Ni-ki!” a voice shrieked from somewhere near the pastry display.

You coughed, flailed, and possibly cried, when someone silently reached past you and switched the machine off with a flick of his wrist. No words. Just calm, collected competence. The kind that makes you feel even more like a human disaster.

You looked up—and saw him. Park Sunghoon.

He’s quiet. Like, unnervingly quiet. Dressed in black from head to toe with his sleeves rolled just enough to show his veins (rude), and eyes that flick to you once before looking away again. Not a single word. Just a blank expression like you’re a fly he’s choosing not to swat.

“Don’t mind him,” Sunoo said, swooping in with a comforting hand on your shoulder. “That’s Sunghoon. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s not mean. I promise.”

“I didn’t say he was mean,” you muttered, still trying to rearrange the croissants you nearly obliterated.

“You thought it, though,” Sunoo grinned, like he’s already read your soul.

Meanwhile, Ni-ki was cackling in the corner, filming your breakdown for "training purposes."

Sunghoon, still wordless, wiped the steam wand clean, glanced once at the mess you’ve made, then—finally—muttered, “You shouldn’t listen to Ni-ki.”

His voice was soft, low. Dangerous. Like he only spoke when absolutely necessary.

You blinked. “Thanks for the early intel.”

He looked at you again. Longer this time.

And then, he walked away.

No other words. Just disappeared behind the back counter like you were the one who interrupted his day.

“…So anyway!” Sunoo chirped, practically dragging you away, “Let’s get you trained before you break anything else, hmm?”

You glanced back once, just in time to see Sunghoon glance over his shoulder at you.

He looked away first.

And for some reason… that annoyed you.

—

You’d worked four shifts now. Sunoo was basically your fairy godmother, Ni-ki was your unpaid therapist-slash-chaos agent, and Sunghoon?

Sunghoon was still a cardboard box with perfect skin.

He didn’t talk to you unless he had to. Didn’t smile unless he was laughing at something Sunoo said. Didn’t even look at you unless you were actively on fire, and even then, you weren’t sure he’d do more than mildly raise an eyebrow.

Which was extra annoying because somehow he was also weirdly funny. When he talked to Ni-ki or Sunoo, he’d drop the driest one-liners out of nowhere, and suddenly everyone was on the floor laughing. You tried to talk to him? Nothing. Crickets. Maybe a blink, if you were lucky.

You were cleaning the counter one evening when you caught him saying something to Ni-ki, low and casual, and Ni-ki absolutely lost it.

“Okay, that was actually good,” Sunoo wheezed. “Where was that energy earlier when she knocked over the milk?”

“She was already dying,” Sunghoon replied. “Didn’t need to bury her.”

Your head snapped up. “Excuse me?!”

He looked at you, slow and lazy, like he was surprised you heard. “It’s a compliment.”

“How is that a compliment?”

He shrugged. “You’re resilient.”

You stared. “I—what—resilient?! I tripped over my own shoelace!”

“I noticed.”

Sunoo clapped a hand over his mouth like he was about to implode.

You blinked at Sunghoon. He blinked back.

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re so—”

He lifted a brow. “You’re loud.”

You opened your mouth, but Sunoo threw an arm around your shoulders like he was trying to defuse a bomb.

“Okayyy! Let’s all take a breath,” he sang. “Some of us process friendship through gentle banter and others process it by… doing whatever it is Sunghoon does... verbal sparring?”

“I’m not sparring,” Sunghoon said, already walking away.

You glared at his back. “You never spar. You just vanish.”

“Exactly,” he called over his shoulder.

You looked at Sunoo. “I don’t get him.”

Sunoo just smiled. “You will.”

You really thought you wouldn’t—until God bestowed upon you a tragic prophecy, disguised as the café schedule for the following week.

Mon–Fri Closing Shift (5PM–11PM): YOU + SUNGHOON

You stared and blinked, rubbed your eyes, tried processing.

Sunghoon saw it at the same time you did.

“…No,” he said flatly.

You crossed your arms. “Wow. Good to see you too.”

“Sunoo,” he called toward the kitchen. “Switch me. Please.”

“Nope!” Sunoo’s voice floated back. “You’ll thank me later!”

You both stared at the schedule like it had personally offended you. Then—slowly—at each other.

This was going to be a long week.

—

Monday was… quiet.

You tried to make conversation—about the playlist, the new coffee beans, even the weather—but Sunghoon gave you absolutely nothing. Just a few nods and hums, like you were a podcast playing in the background.

You swore he spent more time restocking stirrers than actually speaking to you.

You huffed under your breath, finding him impossible to work with. The shift felt ten hours longer than it actually was, and you were convinced the silence was slowly killing your soul.

As the evening dragged on, you caught him sitting at the back counter, pulling out a laptop in between cleaning duties. You tried not to be nosy—but it was hard not to peek.

Tabs upon tabs of schoolwork were open on his screen—assignments, lecture slides, even a color-coded spreadsheet. You blinked. Huh. Sunghoon was more hardworking than you’d expected. You thought he was just the type to show up, do his job, and disappear back into the void—but here he was, typing away like the shift never even ended.

You munched on your dinner, a sad slice of pizza you grabbed from down the street during your break. The cheese had hardened and the crust was borderline cardboard, but it was food. You leaned against the counter, chewing quietly, when you realized—

Sunghoon hadn’t eaten anything. Not since the two of you started at five.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, fingers tapping against his keyboard, face unreadable in the glow of his screen.

You opened your mouth. “Hey, do you—” But you stopped yourself. Closed it again.

He’d probably just get annoyed. Or say no in that flat, disinterested way of his. And then you’d feel stupid. Still, you kept glancing over at him, stealing quick looks in between bites. At one point, you noticed his hands pressing lightly against his stomach, like he was trying to ignore it. His expression didn’t change, but the movement said enough.

He was probably hungry. You looked down at the last bite of pizza in your hand and sighed.

Tuesday, you decided, would be different.

Tuesday, you showed up with an extra sandwich from the convenience store.

You didn’t say anything. Just slid it across the counter around 7PM, because the night before, he hadn’t eaten dinner and you weren’t about to let him pass out mid-espresso pull.

He stared at the sandwich. Then at you.

You raised a brow. “You didn’t eat yesterday.”

He blinked. “…Okay.”

“You’re welcome.”

You didn’t hear a thank you. But he didn’t give it back either.

Progress.

Wednesday, there was a cup of noodles in your locker.

Just sitting there. No note. No explanation. Just… sitting.

You marched up to Sunghoon, holding it in your hands like evidence. “Did you put this in my locker?”

He looked at the cup noodle. Then at you. Then blinked, deadpan. “…No.”

“Really.”

He shrugged.

You squinted at him.

He walked away.

You were this close to launching the noodle at the back of his head. Instead, you ate it. And maybe smiled. A little.

Thursday, you both brought each other dinner. At the same time.

You froze at the counter, holding out your plastic bag just as he set his down.

“…I got you something,” you said.

He stared at your bag. Then gestured to his. “So did I.”

You glanced at each other, at the food, and then away.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

He nodded. “Mm.”

You caught the tiniest tug at the corner of his mouth as he turned around.

You smiled too. But only when he wasn’t looking.

Friday, you didn’t expect anything. You were restocking the fridge when you heard it:

“Hey.”

You turned around, startled. “What?”

Sunghoon was standing there, one hand on the fridge door, the other in his pocket. His voice was quiet, like he was testing it out on you for the first time.

“I—uh,” he started, eyes flicking to yours, then away. “You always wear that hair clip. The pink one. With the sparkles.”

You blinked. “Yeah?”

He nodded slowly. “I thought it was dumb at first.”

“Okay…?”

“But now it’s kinda…” He paused, scratched the back of his neck. “I dunno. Cute, I guess.”

You stared at him.

“Forget it,” he muttered, moving past you.

“No wait,” you said, stepping into his path, a slow grin spreading across your face. “Did you just say I’m cute?”

He didn’t look at you. “I said the clip is cute.”

“That I’m wearing.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Sunghoon thinks I’m cute~” you sang, spinning in a circle while he groaned and walked away.

But you caught it—right before he turned around completely.

The smile. The real one.

And for the first time all week, you were pretty sure… he might have liked you back.

The silence didn’t feel heavy anymore. It wasn’t awkward. Just quiet. Comfortable. Like a pause instead of a wall.

You were sweeping. He was mopping. The usual end-of-shift rhythm. You hummed a song under your breath—something from the café playlist that had been looping for hours. He didn’t comment on it this time. Just kept mopping in sync with you.

The air smelled like cleaning solution and vanilla syrup. The lights were dimmed to their soft closing hour glow. Outside, the city buzzed quietly under the street lamps.

Then you heard it—his voice. Low. Careful.

“I hear you’re starting college soon.”

You blinked, glancing up from your broom. He wasn’t looking at you, just focusing on a coffee stain near the back corner of the café.

“Yeah,” you said. “Orientation’s next week.”

He nodded once. “Same.”

You stopped sweeping. “Wait—seriously?”

He nodded again, this time glancing at you. “Business major?”

“Yeah. Are you—”

“Same.”

You stared. “You’re kidding.”

He shook his head, mouth twitching like he couldn’t believe it either. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

You couldn’t help it—you grinned. “Wow. And I thought this week was the end of my suffering.”

He smirked, just a little. “Mutual, believe me.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks felt warm. “This is gonna be weird.”

“Probably.”

You leaned against your broom, tilting your head. “What if we get put in the same class?”

“I’ll transfer out.”

You laughed. Actually laughed. And the look on his face softened in that tiny, quiet way he did sometimes—like a blink-and-you-miss-it moment of fondness.

“So,” you said, brushing past him on your way to put the broom away, “does this mean we’re friends now?”

He paused. Looked at you.

Then—“You’re loud.”

You turned around, walking backward. “Not a no~”

He rolled his eyes. But he didn’t say no.

—

Your first day of college started in a lecture theatre that looked like it belonged in a movie.

Wide rows of tiered seats. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A massive screen at the front welcoming new students with a generic but oddly comforting "Welcome, Future Leaders!" banner.

You slid into a seat at the back row, instinctively avoiding the eager clusters forming near the front. It was still early, and the place buzzed with chatter, nerves, and the rustle of free tote bags and pamphlets.

You opened one of the pamphlets a student ambassador had handed you earlier and scanned it while sipping on the last of your bottled tea. Campus map. Co-curricular activities. After-school programmes. There was even a flowchart on how to balance academic and personal development. It was cheesy, but a part of you—the part that studied like hell to get here—felt… proud. You belonged here. You were surrounded by people who cared just as much as you did.

You let out a small sigh, the kind that came from contentment, then finally looked up—

And blinked.

Sunghoon was walking toward you.

Brown coat sweeping behind him. A scarf looped casually around his neck. Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, framing his face in a way that made him look straight out of a campus brochure. He carried two cups of coffee in one hand, the sleeves of his coat pushed just enough to reveal the band of his watch.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just placed one of the cups in front of you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You stared at it. Then at him.

“…You stalking me now?”

Sunghoon raised a brow. “You’re sitting in the back row. That’s the least stalkable seat.”

“Mm,” you hummed, smirking as you took the coffee anyway. “So you do want to be friends.”

He slid into the seat beside you. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” You raised the cup. “Acts of service. Love language. I’m flattered.”

He gave you a look. “It’s just coffee.”

“And glasses,” you added, gesturing to his face. “You’re really committing to the college-boy aesthetic, huh? Next you’re gonna pull out a book of poetry.”

He rolled his eyes, but you didn’t miss the way his lip twitched like he was holding back a smile. “You’re annoying.”

You took a sip. It was warm. Slightly sweet. Exactly how you liked it.

“And yet,” you said, nudging his arm with your elbow, “here you are.”

He didn’t answer. Just looked ahead at the empty podium, his fingers wrapped around his own cup. But his shoulder stayed against yours—light, steady, unbothered.

And you… didn’t move away.

Then, the two of you were a part of a routine.

Ever since you both found out you were classmates, Sunghoon would wait in the apartment lobby every morning with a drink in hand—tea or coffee, depending on how late you texted him the night before.

Before 12AM? Chamomile. After 12? Iced latte, extra pumps of vanilla. No questions asked.

It had been a whole month of college, and while you were still adjusting, you were glad you had Sunghoon. (More like—Sunghoon was glad he had you.)

You were outgoing. People liked you, drawn in by your energy. Sure, you could be shy at first, but once you warmed up, you were easily the heart of any group. Loud. Expressive. A little dramatic. And though Sunghoon called you irritating more times than you could count, he couldn’t deny it was part of your charm.

Part of why he noticed you in the first place.

Now here you were—walking side by side, warm drink in hand, on your way to your first class of the day. You were mid-story about something ridiculous your professor said in a group chat. Sunghoon just walked quietly beside you, listening.

And somehow, that felt like the best part of your morning.

You were walking across the quad with Sunghoon, your cup in one hand, rambling about something dumb from class when a football came flying almost knocking you out.

A second later, a tall guy sprinted into your path, trying to catch it—and collided right into you.

You gasped, stumbling back, but before you could even register what happened, Sunghoon had already pulled you aside, his hand wrapping firmly around your arm, shielding you behind him.

“Shit—sorry!” the guy said, breathless, catching the ball. His cap was turned backwards, and strands of his hair stuck to his forehead from running. He looked at you, eyes wide. “You okay?”

You nodded, eyes locking with his.

He smiled.

And for a moment, your heart stuttered.

He was cute. Really cute. Sharp jaw, dimpled grin, that kind of effortless charm that made you forget what you were saying.

“I—uh, yeah. All good,” you mumbled.

Sunghoon’s hand slowly dropped from your arm. You didn’t notice. You were still looking at Yeonjun.

He looked at you too. “I’m Yeonjun, by the way.”

You smiled, just a little. “Nice to meet you.”

Sunghoon stood still beside you, silent as ever.

But he saw it.

The look. The smile. The way you laughed, a little softer than usual. The way Yeonjun’s eyes lingered when he handed you back the drink you almost dropped.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything.

He just looked away.

—

Yeonjun showed up at the café on a Friday afternoon, all sunshine and charm, and you were too busy juggling orders to notice him at first—until he waved from the counter with that same boyish smile.

Your eyes lit up. “Oh my god—hey!”

He leaned over casually, glancing at the menu. “Didn’t know you worked here. I guess I’ll have to stop by more often.”

Meanwhile, across the room, Sunghoon sat at a corner table with a textbook open in front of him and an untouched iced americano beside it. According to him, he was there to study. According to Sunoo, he was there to “keep an eye out for Selenur.” (Sunoo’s thoughtful codename for you, since he was very sure Sunghoon had a “thing” for you)

Sunghoon told him to shut up.

Now, he watched silently as you and Yeonjun exchanged numbers, your head tilted toward the screen, smile wide. He saw Yeonjun grin, say something that made you laugh, and hand you his phone.

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened.

Not my problem, he told himself, eyes flicking back to his textbook. Not. My. Problem.

You walked over seconds later, practically skipping, still holding your phone like it was made of gold. “Can you believe it? He asked me out!”

Sunghoon didn’t look up.

You slid into the seat across from him anyway, hitting his arm repeatedly with giddy little slaps. “Sunghoon. He asked. Me. Out!”

He sighed, finally meeting your eyes. “Stop hitting me.”

“Sorry,” you giggled, not sorry at all. “I’m just excited!”

He watched you bounce in your seat, hair bouncing with you, eyes sparkling like you just won the lottery. He hated to admit how adorable you looked when you were like this. But he had a reputation. And emotions. And he was firmly committed to ignoring both.

Still. Something didn’t sit right.

Sunghoon had done a little digging after the football incident. Nothing crazy. Just… a casual scroll through Instagram. And maybe a few archived posts. Some comments. A look at mutuals. Purely for research.

Yeonjun was a third-year business major. A senior. Popular. Handsome. And according to a few posts Sunghoon definitely did not save—someone who changed girlfriends like he changed outfits.

He didn’t like it.

He didn’t like him.

Not for you.

But what did he know?

He looked down, turning a page in his textbook. Not my problem, he chanted in his head.

Definitely not.

—

Sunghoon stood in the apartment lobby, one hand tucked in his coat pocket, the other holding your usual coffee order. He checked his phone for the time, glanced toward the elevator—then froze.

You stepped out, smile already bright, your phone in one hand and the hem of your dress held lightly in the other. It was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen you wear—soft fabric that fell just above your knees, cinched slightly at the waist, the color making your skin glow. Your hair was styled, subtle makeup dusted across your cheeks, and your lips were curved in that effortless way that made it suddenly very hard to breathe.

You looked… gorgeous.

His heart did something stupid in his chest, but he quickly cleared his throat and looked away, pretending to be fascinated by the vending machine.

“How do I look?” you asked, voice playful.

He didn’t meet your eyes. “The same,” he muttered.

“Oh,” you said quietly. “Do I?”

You sighed, and he heard the disappointment in it—saw the way your shoulders dropped just slightly.

Guilt hit him instantly.

“In a good way,” he added quickly, almost too quickly.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He finally looked at you, then down at the coffee he was still holding. “You look… pretty today.”

He cleared his throat and shoved the cup toward you before you could say anything else. Then he turned and started walking first, trying to escape the inevitable teasing.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, you smiled behind your cup and jogged up to walk beside him.

“Why are you dressed like that?” he asked after a few beats of silence.

“My date with Yeonjun’s today,” you said with a grin.

His step faltered for a split second. “You like him that much?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know about like, but… it’s just—I’ve never been asked out before.”

You tilted your head as you said it, your voice soft. Honest.

Sunghoon frowned. “I’m surprised.”

“What’s so surprising?” you laughed. “You’ve met me. Everyone’s either calling me loud or annoying.”

“Isn’t that what’s so charming about you?”

The words slipped out before he could stop them.

You turned to him, eyes wide, mouth parting. “Did you just—compliment me?”

“No,” he said immediately, gaze fixed ahead like it never happened.

You didn’t press it.

You just smiled again, even softer this time, and walked beside him like nothing had changed.

But for Sunghoon… everything had.

—-

The date started off… nice. Not mind-blowing. Not movie-level magical. But nice.

Yeonjun took you to a rooftop café near campus—fairy lights strung across the ceiling, soft music humming under the chatter. He pulled your chair out like a gentleman, complimented your dress, and told you you looked beautiful in the golden hour light. You laughed, cheeks warm, nerves fluttering. You weren’t used to this. To being seen.

“You know,” he said between sips of his coffee, “I heard you got into the business faculty because of some competition?”

You nodded, a little surprised. “Yeah. The Young Entrepreneurs’ thing in my final year.”

“That’s so impressive,” he said, leaning forward with a glint in his eye. “You must have had a really solid proposal. What was it about?”

You blinked. “Um… a sustainable student-run café model. With profit-sharing incentives and local sourcing.”

Yeonjun’s smile widened. “That’s genius. Seriously. Are you using it for any of your current modules?”

You hesitated. “Well… sort of. I’m reworking the model for this semester’s proposal project.”

He nodded slowly. “Wow. You must be at the top of your class already.”

There was a pause. You tried to smile, but something twisted in your gut. He kept asking—about the proposal, your outline, your ideas. Details most people would only bring up if they were in your group, or at least interested in the topic.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom. The second the door closed behind you, you leaned against the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror. Something about this didn’t feel right. You couldn’t place it, but the way he kept circling back to your work felt… off.

When you returned, Yeonjun was all smiles again. Charming. Sweet. As if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just gently interrogated you for thirty minutes under the glow of fairy lights.

You tried to shake it off.

The next day, your phone stayed quiet. And the day after that. And the one after that, too.

No texts. No calls. No explanation.

Yeonjun ghosted you. Completely. Like the date never happened. Like you never happened.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. That it wasn’t like you were in love with him. That it was just one date. One boy.

But it still stung.

It wasn’t about Yeonjun, not really. It was about what it made you wonder.

Maybe you were hard to like. Maybe you were too loud. Or too awkward. Maybe you talked too much, or didn’t say the right things. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Or cool enough. Or quiet enough.

He smiled at you. Told you you were smart. Sweet. Pretty. And still—he left. Without a word.

And it made you wonder if all the things people always said about you were true. If deep down, you were too much of everything… and not enough of anything.

You didn’t even like Yeonjun like that, not really. But being left behind like you didn’t matter—that part hurt more than you'd ever admit out loud.

Especially when all you did was try to be yourself.

Then came the worst part.

You were working on a different assignment, digging through your laptop for a reference doc when you realized… your final business proposal was gone.

Completely gone.

You stared at the empty folder for a long, frozen second. Then searched again. And again. You turned the whole desktop inside out, but the file wasn’t there.

Panic bloomed in your chest. You didn’t delete it. You never would.

Desperate, you made your way to the engineering block where your friend Heeseung was camped out, headphones around his neck and an energy drink half-empty beside him.

You dropped beside him and wordlessly shoved your laptop in front of him.

“I think my file’s gone,” you muttered. “Like—gone gone.”

Heeseung frowned, pulling the laptop toward him. Fingers flying across the keyboard. You sat still, breath caught in your throat.

After a few minutes, he leaned back in his chair.

“It says here your laptop’s last file access was through a thumbdrive. Someone plugged one in, moved your business proposal, then took it out.”

You stared at him.

“What?” you said. Your voice barely above a whisper.

He clicked again, tilting the screen. “Time stamp says it happened the day before yesterday. Around 8:42 PM.”

Your mind flicked back.

Yeonjun. That was the night of your date.

No. No way. He wouldn’t— He couldn’t—

But the timing fit. The questions. The ghosting.

No. No fucking way.

—

You were pissed.

You wiped the counters with a little too much force, angrily scrubbing at invisible stains like they personally betrayed you. The blender hadn’t even been used today, but you cleaned it twice. You huffed. You sighed. You muttered curses under your breath while flinging dishrags and slamming cabinet doors just a bit harder than necessary.

Sunghoon stood at the sink, quietly washing mugs like you were a rabid animal he didn’t want to startle.

“I—” he started.

You grunted.

“You—”

You sighed.

He blinked. You hadn’t let him get out a full sentence all shift. At this point, you were acting like him, and he was the one trying to initiate conversation.

It was terrifying.

Thirty minutes of silence passed before you finally spoke.

“You know what I hate about men?”

Sunghoon froze mid-dry. He glanced down at his own very male hands. Great. He was framed by default.

“You people,” you said, voice rising, “and your terrible innate sense of justice.”

You slammed the rag down onto the counter. “Stealing a person’s work? Pfft. How stupid do you have to fucking be?!”

Sunghoon stayed quiet, lips pressed into a thin line. He had no idea what you were going on about—only that your date with Yeonjun clearly didn’t go well.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you waved a wet dishcloth in his face like a white flag of fury.

“And you know what else?” you went on, eyes blazing. “You people are just little gremlins who take. And take. And take.”

You let out another heavy sigh, leaning against the counter like you were carrying the weight of all modern betrayal.

“And for what?!”

Your voice hit a pitch so sharp that Sunghoon actually flinched. He snapped upright like you’d physically struck him.

“I’m guessing the date didn’t go so well?” he offered carefully.

“He stole my business proposal.”

Sunghoon paused. “…What do you mean?”

You exhaled through your nose like a dragon mid-breakdown, pacing the space behind the counter as you told him everything. The date. The weird questions. The missing file. The thumb drive. Heeseung’s diagnosis. The awful, dawning realization.

By the time you were finished, Sunghoon just stood there—speechless. Stunned.

“He’s an… asshole,” he said finally, slow and deliberate, like he needed to taste each word before letting it out.

“Yuhuh,” you mumbled, flopping into the stool behind the register and dragging your hands down your face. “What am I gonna do? The deadline’s on Friday. I spent two weeks on that thing. I’m screwed.”

Sunghoon reached for the industrial bag of coffee beans under the counter, tearing it open like this was a normal Tuesday. “Well, it’s not like you can sneak into his house and steal his laptop back.”

You froze.

“…Come again?”

Sunghoon paused, one hand still buried in the bag. “No. That was just a comment. Not an idea.”

“But a good one.” You turned toward him slowly, a little too bright. A little too smiley.

He narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“You have to help me.”

“Why me?!”

“Because you gave me the idea!”

Sunghoon sighed. Loudly. Dramatically. Like he already knew he was going to give in but had to fight for the sake of his pride.

“You’re lucky I don’t believe in karma,” he muttered.

You grinned, victory written all over your face. “So that’s a yes?”

—

It was 3:07AM when Sunghoon found himself walking through a quiet residential street, questioning every decision that had brought him to this point.

The address you’d sent him earlier lit up on his screen. He shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets, exhaling into the chilly night, when—

“Psst!”

He turned his head toward a cluster of trees—and nearly jumped out of his skin.

You were crouched behind a bush, donned in an all-black ensemble: black beanie, oversized black hoodie, black jeans, and…

“Slippers?” he blinked.

You grinned, proud. “I see you noticed the vibe. I’m dressed up as a burglar.”

Sunghoon stared. “…Isn’t that a little on the nose?”

“Isn’t it cute?” you whispered, excited. “I got it all on sale just now.”

“At what? A Target for burglars?”

You swatted his chest with the back of your hand, ignoring the way he flinched with a low sigh.

“There,” you said, pointing toward the modest two-story house across the street. “That’s his house.”

“Okay, and what’s your—” You swat him again.

“Our plan?” he corrected, exasperated.

You beamed. “Glad you asked. See that room on the second floor? With the string lights and the cracked window?”

He squinted. “Yeah?”

“My intel says that’s his room.”

“…Your intel. You mean, Sunoo?”

“Yes.” You wiggled your brows mysteriously before turning serious. “So. We put up the ladder. I climb. I sneak in. I get the laptop. We disappear.”

“You’re actually insane for this,” he muttered under his breath.

You ignored him, eyes locked on the prize. “The windows are open, and I made sure he’s distracted tonight.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “How exactly?”

“I texted him from a fake number pretending to be a girl he ghosted last semester. He’s currently having a breakdown about his ‘reputation.’ I give us twenty minutes.”

He stared at you like you’d grown a second head.

And then he sighed. Deep. Long. Existential.

Is this worth it? He thought to himself.

He glanced down at you again—eyes full of unhinged determination, your hoodie sleeves bunched at your wrists, that tiny pout on your lips as you tried to judge the ladder distance.

God. You looked ridiculous. And cute.

So yeah. It was worth it.

“…Let’s do this,” he said.

You grinned like the gremlin you were. “I knew you liked me.”

He rolled his eyes, cheeks just a little too warm. “Regretting this already.”

But he followed you anyway.

—

You set the ladder against the side of the house like you’d done this before. Sunghoon, meanwhile, stood beside it with the stiff posture of someone definitely not okay with committing a crime at 3:15AM.

You looked back at him. “Hold it steady, okay?”

“Just… for the record,” he muttered, “this is breaking and entering.”

“I prefer the term justice retrieval.”

He sighed so hard you thought his soul left his body. “Just don’t fall and die. Please.”

You winked. “Aw, you care.”

“No, I just don’t want to explain to the police why you’re dressed like a criminal and wearing slippers.”

You began to climb.

The first few steps were fine—until one of your slippers nearly slipped right off.

“Oh, fuck—” you hissed, gripping the ladder.

“Do you need to wear those?” Sunghoon whisper-yelled from below, clutching the base of the ladder like his life depended on it.

“They’re comfy!”

“They’re a hazard.”

You ignored him, determined, as you reached the second-floor window. The breeze fluttered through the half-open pane, moonlight pooling gently across Yeonjun’s empty room. His laptop sat on the desk, closed. Glowing faintly.

Target acquired.

You carefully pushed the window open wider and swung one leg through.

Sunghoon watched from below, jaw tight, muttering to himself like a man saying his last prayers. “This is how I go down. Helping a girl in bunny slippers commit theft.”

You managed to slide inside without knocking anything over. Heart pounding. Hands slightly shaking.

You tiptoed across the carpet, grabbed the laptop, and slipped it into your drawstring bag like the world's most underqualified spy.

You were halfway back out the window when—

“HEY! WHO’S THERE?!”

A voice rang out from somewhere downstairs.

Your eyes widened. You turned to look down at Sunghoon, who was still grabbing the bottom of the ladder.

“Go, go, go—!” you whispered harshly.

You clambered down the ladder as fast as you could, nearly taking Sunghoon out as you reached the bottom. He caught your wrist before you could stumble, pulling you into a sprint without a word.

Your feet pounded against the pavement—slippers slapping, bag bouncing, hearts racing. Behind you, a door slammed open.

“HEY!” Yeonjun’s voice echoed into the street.

Sunghoon didn’t slow down. “Left!” he hissed.

You turned sharply, ducking into a narrow alley between two quiet apartment buildings. The shadows swallowed you both instantly.

“Over here—quick,” he muttered, yanking you behind a large trash bin and squeezing into the tight space beside you. It was small. Barely enough for one person, let alone two.

You pressed your back to the wall, chest heaving, adrenaline thrumming in your ears.

Sunghoon’s face was too close. Way too close.

You turned to whisper something, only to notice the way his profile was still partially visible, his cheek nearly poking out past the safety of the shadow. Panic surged through you as Yeonjun’s footsteps grew louder.

Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed Sunghoon’s face—gentle but urgent—and pulled him toward you, forcing him deeper into the corner.

He blinked, startled, his hands landing on either side of you to steady himself.

And suddenly—everything stopped.

His breath hit yours. Warm. Shaky. His nose nearly brushing yours. Your fingertips still on his cheek. You could feel the heat rising between your bodies, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

You were so focused on listening for footsteps that you didn’t notice the way he was looking at you.

His eyes were locked on yours, soft and unblinking. Like you were something precious. Something fragile. Something he wasn’t supposed to want but couldn’t help reaching for.

But then—he cleared his throat.

You blinked, still slightly dazed, and smiled—completely unaware of how close you were until you finally pulled away.

He stepped back the moment you did.

You laughed, breathless, heart still sprinting inside your chest. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“I can’t believe you dragged me into it,” he said, grinning despite himself.

Your laughter echoed down the alley, light and free and bubbling with triumph.

And even as the moment passed, and the footsteps faded, and you both stumbled back out into the quiet night—

Sunghoon couldn’t stop thinking about how your hands had felt on his skin.

—

Sunghoon unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment as if nothing about the situation was even remotely unusual. You followed close behind, hoodie pulled low over your head, black beanie snug, sleeves covering your hands, and—most incriminating of all—a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers completing the look. If anyone had seen you on the way over, they might’ve called the cops.

Inside, the living room was dimly lit, the glow of the TV casting flickering light across Jake and his girlfriend, who were curled up under a blanket, halfway through a rom-com rerun and clearly deep into their peaceful little couple night. That peace shattered the moment Jake looked up and saw you.

He froze with a chip halfway to his mouth. His girlfriend stiffened beside him. Their gazes locked on your all-black ensemble, eyes trailing from your hoodie to your slippers, as if unsure whether to scream, laugh, or call for help.

“Sunghoon,” Jake said slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Why is there a burglar in our house?”

You smiled brightly, completely unfazed. “Hi!”

Jake blinked, turning to Sunghoon for confirmation. Sunghoon simply sighed, kicked his shoes off, and muttered under his breath, “Not how I wanted you to meet her.”

“You brought her to the house,” Jake said, still staring. “At 3 a.m. Dressed like that.”

You shrugged, strolling toward the desk and pulling Yeonjun’s laptop from your drawstring bag. “We’re breaking into a computer, not the house. Totally different vibe.”

Jake’s girlfriend leaned forward. “Are those bunny slippers?”

You nodded proudly. “They’re for stealth.”

“Right,” she said, blinking. “Very… quiet.”

Sunghoon dropped his keys on the table with a sigh, already preparing himself for the chaos about to unfold.

“She’s trying to hack into a guy’s laptop,” he said, walking to the kitchen like he needed caffeine and therapy at once. “Don’t ask.”

“Why are you helping her?!” Jake asked, scandalized.

Sunghoon opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “I’m not.”

“You literally held the ladder for me twenty minutes ago,” you called over your shoulder.

Jake choked. “Ladder? What ladder?!”

You turned around, laptop booted up, the login screen glowing faintly. “The one I used to climb through a second-story window.”

Jake gaped. His girlfriend quietly set the chip bag down, her expression somewhere between horrified and fascinated.

“I love her,” she whispered to Jake.

“I fear her,” Jake whispered back.

Sunghoon leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. He looked at you—messy hair peeking out from under your beanie, eyes focused, face lit by the laptop screen. Completely unbothered by the scene you’d walked into.

And for some reason, despite all the madness, he still thought you looked kind of cute.

“God help us all,” Sunghoon muttered.

By the time you cracked into the laptop, Jake and his girlfriend had already retreated into their bedroom. Sunghoon had closed the door behind them with a roll of his eyes and a muttered, “That’s just code for they’re about to smash, so we should probably play some music or something.”

You’d snorted at the time, but now the silence in the room felt heavy.

The soft hum of the laptop was the only sound between you, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the floor next to Sunghoon’s desk. He sat beside you, legs stretched out, arms loosely folded, eyes flicking over the screen with quiet interest—until he glanced at your expression and realized you’d stopped scrolling.

“What is it?” he asked.

You didn’t answer.

Your eyes were fixed on the folder open in front of you. Document after document lined the screen, all titled neatly with class names and—oddly—names. Different ones.

Mina. Elly. Jisoo. Grace.

And then… your name.

You clicked on it. Your proposal opened, just slightly reworded, your diagrams rearranged—but it was yours. Every piece of it.

You stared at the screen and crossed your arms tightly, a cold knot settling in your chest. The adrenaline was gone now. In its place was something much heavier. You felt small. Humiliated.

“I was just another one,” you muttered.

Sunghoon looked over, brows drawing together.

“Just another girl he got close to for an assignment,” you said, voice flat. “Was I that boring? That forgettable? Was I really so—unlikable—that the only time a guy showed me attention, it was because he needed my fucking work?”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head as the words tumbled out, unfiltered. “God. What is wrong with me? What did I think was gonna happen? That someone like him actually liked someone like me?”

You let your arms drop and folded your hands over your face, pressing your palms into your eyes.

“I’m so stupid,” you whispered.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything at first. He just sat beside you, close but not touching, eyes fixed on the floor like he was trying to figure out the right thing to say and coming up completely empty.

You wiped at your face with the back of your sleeve, but it was no use—your mascara had already betrayed you, running in streaks down your cheeks. You were crying harder than you realized, tears silent but relentless.

You turned to him, half-laughing, half-sobbing. “So you’re just gonna stay quiet?”

He looked up, startled. His gaze met yours, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. You looked—God, you looked like a mess. Eyes red, lashes damp, your hoodie sleeves pushed up unevenly, and cheeks stained with tears.

And somehow, he thought you’d never looked prettier.

You weren’t pretending. Weren’t smiling for the sake of others or hiding behind jokes. You were just… you. Raw and hurting and real.

He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “What do you want me to say? I’m not good at comforting people.”

“I don’t know,” you sniffled. “Say he’s an asshole or something.”

Sunghoon shrugged a little. “Well, he is.”

You looked at him, still waiting, unsure if that was all he had in him. He looked like he was about to say more, and then—he did.

“He is an asshole,” Sunghoon repeated, louder this time. “I don’t know why you even agreed to go out with him.”

You opened your mouth, confused. “I—”

“You’re loud,” he said suddenly. “You’re pretentious. You’re annoying—”

Your eyes widened, and you flinched.

“What—”

“You interrupt people all the time,” he continued, voice rising with something that wasn’t quite anger—something messier. “You talk too much. You never stop moving. You’re chaotic and stubborn and you don’t think things through—”

Tears were streaming down your face again, this time faster. You looked away, chest tightening.

But then his voice softened.

“...And you’re also caring. Kind. God, you’re the only person I know who goes to the store at four in the morning to feed stray cats in an alley every two days.”

You blinked. Slowly turned back to him.

Sunghoon exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re funny. You’re thoughtful. You remember the little things people say even when they forget they said them. Anyone would be lucky to be your friend… let alone always be with you.”

He looked at you then, eyes steady and full of something warm. Something aching.

“I’m lucky,” he said, quieter now. “I’m the luckiest bastard alive, as long as I get to stand next to you and call you my friend.”

You stared at him, heart pounding, lips parted, breath caught somewhere in your chest.

Because for the first time… it felt like he wasn’t just calling you a friend.

—

Maybe it was the crying. Maybe it was the emotional whiplash of the night—the heist, the heartbreak, the sudden unraveling of every thought you’d kept tucked neatly away. Maybe it was the way Sunghoon had looked at you when he said he was lucky.

But either way, you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

One moment you were sitting beside him, the warmth of his words still lingering in your chest like a quiet heartbeat. The next, the world had blurred softly at the edges, and your body gave out beneath the weight of it all.

So now, you were on his back.

He’d barely hesitated before lifting you, tucking your arms around his shoulders and hooking his arms under your knees. You didn’t even protest—you were too tired to argue, too comforted by the way he held you like he’d done it before.

Your cheek rested against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. You felt the steady rise and fall of his chest as he walked, the rhythmic sway of his steps, the subtle hum of a tune you didn’t recognize—but it was sweet, and low, and made your heartbeat slow down.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He just walked.

Past the quiet streets. Past flickering streetlamps. Past your favorite corner store and the alley you fed cats in and the bus stop where he first bought you coffee.

He didn’t complain about your weight. Didn’t tease. Didn’t say a word about the mascara smudged against the fabric of his coat.

You didn’t know if he knew you were still half-awake, but when he gently adjusted your leg, you heard him murmur so softly you almost missed it:

“You’re not stupid.”

Your heart ached.

And then you let sleep take you.

Because if there was ever a place to rest— It was here. On his back.

—

You woke up warm.

Too warm, actually. Wrapped in layers you didn’t remember putting on. The hoodie you had on last night clung loosely to your body, sleeves pushed halfway up your arms, and your slippers were neatly placed by the side of your bed—something you definitely hadn’t done.

You sat up slowly, blinking at the sunlight streaming through your curtains. Your room was quiet. Peaceful. And completely unfamiliar in the sense that… you had no idea how you got there.

You rubbed your eyes, your body aching in the most confusing way—like you’d run a marathon, cried through an entire movie, and fought off an emotional breakdown all at once. Oh. Right.

The heist. The yelling. The crying.

Sunghoon.

You swung your legs off the bed, still a little dazed, and padded out of your room.

That’s when you smelled it—eggs. Butter. Something slightly burnt, but in a way that made your chest tighten.

You turned the corner and froze.

Sunghoon was in your kitchen.

His hair was messier than usual, falling into his eyes as he stood in front of the stove, flipping something that might have once been a pancake. He was wearing the same hoodie from the night before, sleeves pushed up, a spatula in one hand, your mismatched cat-print apron tied haphazardly around his waist.

You blinked, brain short-circuiting. “What the hell…?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “You’re awake.”

“I…” You looked down at yourself. “How did I get home?”

“You passed out,” he said simply, turning back to the stove. “I carried you.”

You stared at him. “You carried me?”

“Like a princess,” he deadpanned. “Except you drooled on my shoulder.”

You gasped. “I did not.”

“You did.”

You groaned and dropped your head into your hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

He flipped another pancake—slightly more edible this time—and shrugged. “You needed the sleep.”

You looked up at him again, softer this time. “Why are you making breakfast?”

He didn’t look at you. “Felt like you could use something warm.”

You felt your throat tighten. You wanted to say something, but the words sat too heavy on your tongue. So instead, you just stood there in the doorway, watching him quietly.

And for the first time in what felt like weeks—you felt safe.

Breakfast passed in silence.

Not awkward, not heavy—just... silent. The kind of silence that settled like sunlight through the window, warm and gentle and unspoken.

You sat across from him at your little dining table, your knees brushing every so often beneath the wood, your plate mostly untouched. He ate like nothing was different, like he hadn’t carried you home last night, like he didn’t make pancakes in your kitchen while wearing your cat-print apron.

And yet, something had shifted.

You kept stealing glances at him in between tiny sips of orange juice. The way his lashes dipped as he focused on his food. The subtle curve of his mouth as he chewed. The way his hair curled just slightly at the ends when he didn’t style it.

Your heart fluttered.

Your stomach twisted—but not in the way it did when you were nervous or sad. This was... different. Lighter. Warmer.

What is this? you thought. This weird, floaty feeling in your chest. This little ache every time you looked at him.

Sunghoon glanced up, catching your gaze.

You quickly looked down at your plate.

He didn’t say anything for a moment—just reached for his cup, took a sip, then set it down with a quiet clink.

“Go take a shower and get dressed,” he said casually.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He leaned back in his chair. “You heard me.”

“But it’s Saturday. I don’t have any—”

“I’m taking you out.”

You stared at him. “Out? Like… out out?”

“Let’s go,” he said again, nonchalantly, like it was no big deal. Like he hadn’t just casually turned your whole world upside down with three words.

You opened your mouth, then closed it. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks.

“Oh,” you said. Quiet. Surprised.

Sunghoon stood and collected your plate like it was the most normal thing in the world. “I’m not giving you the plan. Just go shower.”

And then he walked off toward the sink, sleeves rolled, calm as ever.

You sat there for another ten seconds, frozen, heart racing.

What is this feeling?

And why did you suddenly never want it to stop?

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the hem of your yellow chiffon babydoll dress for the third time. It swayed lightly around your thighs, soft and airy, the color bright against your skin. You’d tied your hair into two loose pigtails, hoping it came off cute and not childish—just… soft. Sweet. Something that might look good next to him.

Sunghoon, with his wardrobe of tailored coats and muted sweaters. All clean lines and high-end simplicity. He never had to try, and he always looked perfect.

You hoped—just a little—that standing beside him, you wouldn’t look too out of place.

You took one last look in the mirror, then stepped out of your room.

He was sitting on your couch, one leg crossed over the other, scrolling casually through his phone like he hadn’t just changed your entire Saturday morning. He looked up when he heard your footsteps.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours.

Then back down to his phone.

No double-take. No compliment. Not even a blink.

“Let’s go,” he said, standing up with a stretch.

You stared at him, jaw tight. “Stupid idiot,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that?” he asked, turning toward you, brows raised.

You plastered on a fake smile so quickly it nearly hurt. “Nothing.”

He watched you for a beat, unreadable as always, then looked away.

“You look pretty,” he said softly—so quiet it was almost drowned out by the rustle of his coat sleeve as he reached for his keys.

You blinked.

But before you could respond, he was already walking toward the door, acting like he hadn’t said anything at all.

Typical Sunghoon.

Your heart fluttered anyway.

—

“Are we there yet?” you sighed for what had to be the fifteenth time.

Sunghoon didn’t look at you—just kept walking ahead with that maddeningly steady pace. “Almost,” he said.

“You said that two hours ago.”

“Mm.”

Just a hum. No explanation. No sympathy.

You followed anyway, flats sinking further into the mud with every step. You���d taken two buses, a ten-minute train ride, and now you were walking deep into a part of the park you didn’t recognize at all. Far from your neighborhood. Far from everything.

You glanced down at your shoes, now spotted with dirt and regret. This dress, the hair, the whole effort—you were starting to think it had all been a mistake.

Then Sunghoon’s pace suddenly picked up. His eyes lit up, focused on something just beyond the next turn.

“There,” he said softly.

And before you could ask what he meant, he reached for your hand—sudden, unthinking—and pulled you with him.

Your breath caught in your throat.

His hand was warm, firm around yours, fingers interlaced like it had always been that way.

You didn’t say a word. Just followed.

He led you past a line of trees, through tall grass, and down a narrow slope. Then finally—you saw it.

A small, glimmering pond hidden in a clearing. The water was still, mirror-like, catching the soft gold of the late afternoon sun. Willow trees bent low over the banks, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. Wildflowers bloomed in quiet clusters along the edge—lilac, yellow, soft blue—and dragonflies skimmed the water’s surface, their wings catching the light like tiny stained-glass windows. It was quiet. Peaceful. Untouched.

Like something out of a fairytale.

You stared, mouth slightly parted. “How’d you even—how’d you find this place?”

Sunghoon didn’t answer right away. He just stood beside you, still holding your hand loosely.

“When I was younger,” he said after a moment, voice softer than usual, “my family came here for a vacation. My sister and I snuck out one morning and found this by accident.”

You glanced over at him. He wasn’t looking at you—just at the water, like it still held something sacred.

“I used to take her here when she cried,” he continued, “whenever she got scolded by our mum. I don’t know... it always calmed her down.”

You smiled, quietly listening.

“Why’d you bring me here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He laughed under his breath, the sound light, almost shy.

“It’s silly,” he said, eyes still on the pond. “But last night, when you were crying…”

You looked at him then—really looked at him.

His expression was unreadable, caught between memory and now. He glanced at you finally, voice quieter.

“You reminded me of my childhood. Of her. You looked so… innocent.” He gave a faint, crooked smile. “And maybe I thought this place would cheer you up.”

Your chest ached in the most unexpected way.

Not from sadness. Not even from joy.

Just from the quiet knowing that someone had thought of you that deeply.

You looked down again at your joined hands.

Still holding. Still warm.

The two of you made your way closer to the water, weaving past the low-hanging branches until you found a flat patch of grass near the edge. You sat down carefully, smoothing the fabric of your dress beneath you, your feet dangling just above the still surface of the pond.

Sunghoon dropped beside you, resting his arms lazily on his knees, legs slightly apart, sneakers almost brushing the water. The breeze was cooler here, brushing your cheeks with the scent of wildflowers and grass. The only sounds were the rustle of leaves, the distant hum of cicadas, and the quiet ripples of the pond.

He didn’t speak.

Of course he didn’t.

You’d grown used to his silences. They weren’t cold, or distant—not really. They were just… Sunghoon. Thoughtful. Still. The kind of quiet that made you want to fill the space, not because it was empty, but because he made you feel safe enough to.

So you talked.

About everything. About nothing.

You told him about the weird dreams you’d been having lately, about the girl in your class who kept trying to copy your notes, about how you once tried to bake cookies for your primary school crush and forgot the sugar. You pointed out shapes in the clouds. Gave names to the dragonflies. Talked about the playlist you made for a fictional road trip you hadn’t taken yet.

And Sunghoon?

He just listened.

Not distracted. Not fake-listening like some people did, nodding along while their mind was elsewhere.

He listened with his whole body. Slight tilts of his head. The way he’d glance at you when he thought you weren’t looking. The quiet little hums when something made him laugh. The barely-there smile when you said something completely ridiculous.

You kicked your feet gently above the water.

“Sorry,” you said at some point, half-laughing. “I talk too much when you’re quiet.”

He shook his head slowly, still looking out over the pond. “I like it.”

You blinked. “You do?”

“You talk like you’re alive,” he said softly.

You turned to look at him.

His expression was unreadable, gaze fixed somewhere across the water. But his voice—his voice sounded like truth.

Your heart beat a little faster. You looked down at your hands in your lap, trying to will the blush away.

The two of you had been sitting there for a while now, feet dangling over the edge of the pond, sunlight dancing on the surface of the water. You’d done most of the talking—naturally—and Sunghoon had just sat beside you, quietly listening like always, eyes half-lidded from the warmth, arms resting lazily over his knees.

You were halfway through a very dramatic retelling of the vending machine incident from earlier in the week when something soft landed on your head.

You paused, blinking. “Did something just…?”

Before you could reach up to check, Sunghoon leaned in.

His hand came up slowly, fingertips brushing through your hair with careful precision. You stilled completely. He was close—closer than usual—and the moment stretched, your voice caught somewhere in your throat.

His face hovered just inches from yours, eyes focused as he plucked a single pink petal from your hair. The breeze tugged at your dress, your heart did a weird little somersault, and your brain short-circuited trying to process the proximity.

You barely dared to breathe. His breath brushed your cheek, warm and soft. He didn’t move away.

And somehow, your mind made the leap.

Oh my god. He’s going to kiss me.

Your heart leapt. You shut your eyes without thinking, every nerve in your body suddenly very, very aware of the shape of his mouth and the way your knees were touching.

But instead of a kiss, you got—

A throat clear.

You opened your eyes to find Sunghoon leaning back like nothing happened, examining the flower petal with the clinical interest of someone assessing a grocery receipt. Like he hadn’t just completely hijacked your central nervous system.

You blinked at him, heat flooding your face.

He glanced up, clearly fighting back a smirk. “Did you just—”

“No.” Your answer was immediate. Loud. Defensive.

“I didn’t even finish my senten—”

“Shut up.” You whirled on him, hands flying dramatically as the full force of your embarrassment took over. “You scooted so close to me, and you leaned in and, and I—I didn’t know what to expect, okay?!”

Sunghoon’s eyes sparkled, lips twitching. “I was taking a petal out of your hair.”

“You took your sweet time, that’s what you did,” you huffed, arms flailing now. “God, you and your–cold–cold boy exterior. I can’t read your face! You could be about to kiss me or about to tell me my card got declined, and I wouldn’t know the difference.”

He let out a soft laugh, the kind that made your chest ache a little. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Excuse me for assuming I was about to have a romantic moment by a magical pond with a boy who—”

He reached forward suddenly, both hands cupping your cheeks, and you froze mid-rant.

The world slowed.

His palms were warm. Gentle. Holding your face like you were made of something delicate. You couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.

Then his voice came, low and steady.

“Do you want me to?”

Your words died in your throat. Your heart thundered somewhere behind your ribs.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, unsure what to say.

He didn’t press. Just looked at you with that infuriating, calm expression—the kind that made it impossible to tell if he was teasing you or being completely serious.

And somehow, that only made you fall harder.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again.

“I—” you tried.

Sunghoon waited.

You panicked. “You took way too long with the petal.”

He laughed. This time, fully. And God, if your heart hadn’t already betrayed you, that laugh would've done it.

“Okay,” he said eventually, letting go of your cheeks like he hadn’t just gently cradled your entire soul.

You immediately buried your face in your hands.

You hated him. You adored him. You had no idea what this was.

But you kind of never wanted it to end.

—

The walk back was quiet.

Not the comfortable kind that usually settled between you and Sunghoon. This one was thick. Tense. A silence so loud it felt like it echoed.

You hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the pond.

He’d glanced at you a few times as you walked side by side, but you kept your gaze stubbornly forward, arms crossed, cheeks still warm from earlier. You couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your head—his hands on your face, that question, your silence, the way your heart had practically stopped beating altogether.

And now, here you were. Standing outside your apartment. Streetlights glowing gold above you. Crickets chirping. The air cool and still.

He hadn’t said anything either.

Not until now.

Sunghoon cleared his throat softly. “You’ve been quiet since the park.”

You let out a small, unbothered-sounding tch, keeping your eyes fixed on the sidewalk.

What a stupid question. He knew why.

You were embarrassed. Flustered. Emotionally compromised and desperately trying to hold it together. And he just stood there, calm and collected, as if he hadn’t casually almost kissed you and then walked away like it was nothing.

You turned toward him, fire rising again. “You—!”

You raised your hands, ready to start waving them mid-rant like you always did. But before a single word left your mouth, Sunghoon stepped forward and grabbed both your wrists gently, stopping them midair.

You blinked.

“What are you—?”

And then he leaned in.

Soft. Quick. Certain.

He pressed a kiss to your lips—just a brief, featherlight touch that made your breath catch and your thoughts scatter in all directions.

It was simple. Barely a second long. But it knocked the wind out of you.

“There,” he said, voice low and calm, as he pulled back.

You stared at him, completely frozen. Mouth slightly parted. Eyes wide.

“Y-You—” you stammered, hands still in his.

Sunghoon didn’t flinch. “You were being loud in your head. I could hear it.”

“I—That’s not—You don’t just—!”

He raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. “Feel better now?”

Your heart was a mess. Your brain was fuzz. But still… you nodded.

He let go of your hands slowly, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“Goodnight,” he said, and turned to walk away.

You stood there, stunned, watching him go. And somewhere between your heart trying to reboot and your hand brushing against your lips…

—-

The library was quiet, save for the occasional turning of pages and the distant hum of the printer.

You were trying to focus. Really, you were. But it was hard.

Not because of your thesis—which was enough of a monster on its own—but because of him. Sitting right next to you.

Sunghoon.

The boy who kissed you once. Who sent you home after and said nothing. The boy who still picked you up for class, still shared his earbuds, still split convenience store snacks with you like nothing had changed. And maybe it hadn’t. Not really.

You weren’t kissing everyday. You weren’t dating. There were no labels. Just… this strange, sweet in-between. And it was driving you insane.

You’d been hanging out every day, and yet neither of you had brought up the kiss. Not the one by the pond. Not the one on your doorstep.

You were somewhere between friends and more, and he seemed perfectly content to sit in that quiet space—while you were losing your mind wondering what it meant.

You were currently scanning the shelves, trying—and failing—to find a book for your thesis. You swore it was here. The catalogue said it was. But after combing through the aisle three times, you were ready to throw yourself into the return bin.

“Ugh,” you muttered, turning to scan the shelf one more time.

And then, like some book-finding angel, Sunghoon stepped beside you. He reached forward casually, plucked the exact book from the shelf above your head, and handed it to you without a word.

Your jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?”

You snatched it from his hand, dramatic as ever, and turned to him with wild eyes.

“I’ve been here for twenty minutes! And you—!”

Your hands flew up instinctively, ready to gesticulate in full rant mode when—

He caught them.

Both of them.

Warm fingers wrapping around your wrists, stopping you mid-rant with that infuriatingly calm expression on his face.

And then he leaned in.

And kissed you.

Just like that.

Soft. Steady. No hesitation.

Your breath caught completely. Your brain shut off. The library, the thesis, the confusion—all of it disappeared under the pressure of his lips against yours.

It was over in seconds.

He pulled back like nothing happened, still holding your hands.

“Loud,” he said, voice low and amused.

And then—he let go and walked away.

You stood frozen in the aisle, mouth still parted in disbelief, the book clutched to your chest like it had personally witnessed a crime.

Your heart was pounding. Your face was burning. You were sure your soul had just left your body.

And once again… He didn’t look back.

Typical Sunghoon.

You were unwell.

Absolutely, fully, catastrophically unwell.

Because Sunghoon kissed you again.

In a library.

After handing you a book like it was the most normal thing in the world.

And when you raised your hands—to explain, to demand answers, to yell in three different emotional languages—he just… kissed you. Again. Calmly. Casually. And walked away like it hadn’t just restructured your entire brain.

You tried not to think about it. You really did.

But the moment you sat back down at the table, book open in front of you, and he slid a highlighter across the desk toward you like he hadn’t just emotionally detonated you—

You exploded.

“Okay,” you said, too loudly for a library. “What are we?”

He looked up from his notes, blinking once.

You leaned forward. “Because you kissed me. Twice. And you keep holding my face like I’m a traumatized woodland creature and then walking away before I can process anything.”

He tilted his head, resting his chin on his palm. “So you have been thinking about it.”

You sputtered. “Of course I’ve been thinking about it!”

Sunghoon nodded slowly, flipping to the next page of his notes.

You blinked at him. “Are you ignoring me?”

“I’m studying.”

“I’m spiraling.”

“Noted.”

Your hands flailed.

And just as you raised them again, fully prepared to unleash wave two of your emotional breakdown—

He stood up from his seat, leaned across the table, and kissed you. Right there. Again.

Quick. Soft. On the corner of your mouth this time.

You froze.

“I—” you squeaked.

“You were getting loud again,” he said, sitting back down like he hadn’t just completely ended your speech mid-sentence.

You gawked at him, face on fire. “You can’t just kiss me every time I get dramatic.”

“That’s what you think.”

You opened your mouth. He raised an eyebrow.

You closed it again.

He handed you your highlighter. “Let me know when you’re done with denial.”

You stared at him, heart pounding so hard you could hear it echoing in your skull. He was calm. Unbothered. Absolutely smug.

You hated him.

You wanted to kiss him again.

You highlighted the same sentence seven times just to avoid looking at his stupid perfect face.

—

You were walking home from the library with Sunghoon again. Just like always. Quiet sidewalk, golden streetlights, late-night hum of the city in the background.

Except nothing about it felt normal anymore.

Not after the kisses.

Not after the looks he kept giving you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Not after your brain had chewed itself into pieces trying to decode what you were to him.

And tonight—you were done pretending you were fine with it.

“I just think,” you said for what felt like the fifth time, voice rising as your steps quickened, “that if you’re gonna keep kissing me, then maybe—and this is wild—I deserve to know what it means!”

Sunghoon didn’t answer. He kept walking beside you, hands in his pockets, face unreadable. Infuriatingly calm.

“And if it doesn’t mean anything, that’s fine,” you added, already lying to yourself. “But then stop doing it! You can’t just weaponize your mouth to shut me up like some human mute button—”

He stopped walking.

You blinked, still mid-rant, too fired up to notice that he’d turned until his fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugged you back—swiftly, gently, deliberately—until your back hit the cold brick wall of the nearest building.

The shock of it knocked the words straight out of your mouth.

“Wha—”

And then he kissed you.

Hard.

No hesitation. No teasing.

His lips found yours in one clean, fluid motion, like he’d been waiting, burning, counting every second leading up to this moment. His hand pressed firmly against the wall beside your head, his body angled toward yours—not pushing, just close. Too close. Close enough that you felt the heat radiating off of him, the weight of everything he hadn’t said.

You didn’t even get the chance to breathe before his other hand slipped to your jaw, tilting your face up slightly—and then his mouth opened against yours, and his tongue slid in. Slow. Confident. Sure.

You gasped softly into him, your fingers gripping the front of his sweater like it was the only thing keeping you from collapsing. And God—he tasted like mint and quiet danger, like late nights and secrets he hadn’t told you yet.

He kissed you like he was trying to memorize your mouth.

Like he wanted you breathless and boneless and ruined in the best way.

And you let him.

You kissed him back like it had been building inside you too, like you’d been waiting for him to break first—waiting for this exact kind of dizzying, spine-melting surrender.

By the time he pulled back, you weren’t sure where you were anymore.

Your chest heaved. Your lips tingled. Your back was still pressed to the wall, legs weak, thoughts tangled.

Sunghoon didn’t move far—just enough to speak, his thumb still brushing softly along your cheek.

“You’re loud,” he murmured, his voice rougher than usual. “But not when you’re kissing me back.”

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even glare. Your eyes were still wide and unfocused. Your body felt like it had been struck by lightning wrapped in velvet.

And him?

He just took your hand again like nothing happened.

“Let’s go,” he said, like he hadn’t just absolutely wrecked you against a wall.

You followed.

Stunned. Silent.

And for the first time in your life— You understood exactly why he did that.

Because nothing had ever shut you up like that before.

—

The next morning, Sunghoon was already waiting outside your apartment by the time you stepped out, bleary-eyed and still emotionally unstable from the night before. He stood there with his usual sleepy calmness, one hand in his pocket, the other holding your usual coffee order.

Of course he knew you hadn’t slept.

He hadn’t either.

Because while you were lying awake replaying that kiss over and over again, so was he. He’d tried to read, tried to distract himself—but every time he closed his eyes, all he could feel was you against the wall. Your fingers in his sweater. The way your lips opened under his, soft and wanting. The sound you made when he bit down gently on your lip before pulling away.

He was in trouble.

You walked toward him slowly, eyes puffy, your hoodie a little crooked from sleep. You didn’t say anything—just snatched the coffee from his hand and took three aggressive gulps like it personally wronged you.

“Hmph,” you huffed, before storming three steps ahead of him like an angry little duck.

Sunghoon blinked.

Then he laughed.

God, he was so gone for you.

“Why are you mad?” he asked, catching up easily.

You didn’t look at him. “Because—because you won’t tell me what we are. You keep kissing me every time I get dramatic, and you don’t say anything after, and you won’t tell me if you even like me, and—”

“Don’t you like it when I kiss you, though?” he asked casually, like he wasn’t setting your entire nervous system on fire.

You stumbled. “I—! I—”

He looked far too smug. You hated how good he was at this.

“You can’t just say smug shit like that and make me not want to choke you—”

You didn’t finish. Because just like last time, he moved without warning.

In one sharp, fluid motion, he backed you into the nearest tree, the rough bark grazing your spine as your back hit it with a quiet thud. His hand slid around to the small of your back, pressing you against him, while the other gripped your waist and dragged slowly down to your hip, fingers curving around it possessively.

His mouth was on yours before you could speak. No hesitation this time.

His lips crashed into yours—hot, hungry, open. He tilted his head, deepening it fast, his hand tightening at your waist as he pulled you harder against him. Your gasp disappeared into his mouth.

His tongue slipped past your lips, slow and deliberate. He kissed like he knew exactly what he was doing—like he knew how to pull sound from your throat without a word. His body pinned yours to the tree, firm and steady, his hips brushing into yours just enough to make you lose your balance and grab his sweater for support.

He groaned lowly when you kissed him back, your fingers bunching at his chest, his thumb digging into your side as his mouth moved harder, needier, lips parting, tongue sliding deeper.

And then—he bit down on your bottom lip, just enough pressure to make your breath catch.

“You didn’t stop me,” he murmured, breath warm against your skin.

Your mouth opened. “Because—”

“Because you like it,” he said again, low and certain.

You glared at him. “And what if I do?! At least I’m being honest with my feelings.”

Sunghoon raised a brow. “Are you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Because you haven’t really told me anything about your feelings,” he said simply.

You threw your hands up. “Is it not clear?!”

You folded your arms, frustration bubbling up.

“Is it not clear that I clearly like you?!”

And just like that—he was silent.

Sunghoon had always been calm, collected, a little unreadable—but something in his expression faltered then. His cool cracked just a little, the tiniest stutter of surprise flickering across his face.

His heart was doing things he would never admit out loud.

Because no matter how smooth he could be, no matter how many times he kissed you like he knew exactly what he was doing—you were the only one who could completely unravel him.

He looked at you, smiling softly.

“Look under your cup.”

You frowned. “What?”

“The cup,” he said. “Turn it over.”

You squinted at him suspiciously, lifting the cup over your head like it owed you answers. And there—scrawled in slightly smudged black marker under the base—was one word, just barely legible in his messy handwriting:

GIRLFRIEND?

Your breath hitched.

Your arms dropped.

You stared at it, then at him.

He stood there with his usual hands-in-pockets posture, pretending to be all calm and collected—but you saw it. The way his ears were just a little too red. The faint twitch of his mouth like he was holding his breath.

You blinked. “You wrote it… on the bottom of a coffee cup?”

“I thought it was romantic,” he said, completely deadpan.

You raised a brow. “You know people usually use, like, their mouths to say these things, right?”

“I figured this way, you’d actually read it instead of yelling over it.”

You paused.

Touche.

“You truly are a man of few words.”

He shrugged. “You use enough for both of us.”

You rolled your eyes—but your grin gave you away.

And then, quietly, you held the cup closer to your chest.

“…Yes,” you muttered.

His lips twitched. “You’re supposed to say it louder.”

You glared. “Don’t push your luck, loverboy.”

He smiled, wide this time. “Too late.”

Before you could react, his hands wrapped around your waist—confident, steady—and he pulled you in all at once. You let out a small yelp, half laugh, arms instinctively catching onto his shoulders as he swept you closer like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And then he kissed you.

His lips pressed into yours like he already knew you’d say yes, like your quiet little “yes” had unlocked something in him. There was no teasing this time, no smirk hiding behind it—just him, kissing you like he meant it.

His grip tightened around your waist, grounding you against him, your body flush to his as his other hand came up to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb brushing just below your ear. You melted into him without a thought, your fingers curling around the back of his sweater, trying to pull him even closer.

You could feel his heartbeat, fast but steady, pressed right against yours.

When he finally pulled back, just barely, his lips hovered over yours—still close enough to steal another breath.

“I’ve been waiting to do that properly,” he whispered, voice low and warm.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Hal Jordan: NSFW Alphabet 🟢⚪

⚣🟢⚪️ A/N → Welp, you guys wanted more Green Lantern content (and lowkey, I did to), so Merry Christmas! Honestly, I'm quite shocked at how much came out of this. But then again, Hal just has a way of getting to me...🫦welp...enjoy!

⚣🟢⚪️ Word Count → 12K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🟢⚪️

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

– Hal Jordan may swagger into the bedroom with the confidence of a man who’s saved the universe countless times, but his aftercare is where the duality of his character shines. Post-climax, he’s all about keeping the mood light, tossing out cocky remarks like, “Admit it, that was the best you’ve ever had, right? I mean, I did just blow your mind.” The grin on his face says he’s half-joking, but the glint in his eye says he’s fishing for confirmation. His ego loves knowing you’re thoroughly wrecked—and let’s face it, he probably did live up to the hype.

– But under the smug exterior lies a man who takes aftercare just as seriously as the main event. Hal knows how intense he can get during the act, with his relentless stamina and the sheer physicality he brings to every round. He doesn’t just leave you sprawled and dazed; he makes sure to check in, his large hands trailing softly over your skin as he murmurs, “Too sore? Need me to grab anything?” He’ll tease, of course—“Didn’t think you’d be able to keep up with me, but you did good.”—but it’s all part of his way of putting you at ease.

– Hal’s attentiveness extends to cleaning up the evidence of your activities, a task he approaches with the same confidence as everything else. Whether it’s a towel to wipe down your body or an exaggerated groan as he gets out of bed to find a spare blanket, Hal doesn’t let you lift a finger. He’ll even run a hand down your thigh as he tucks the covers around you, his lips quirking into a smirk as he whispers something entirely inappropriate, like, “Bet you’re still feeling me there, huh?” His playful arrogance is almost endearing—almost.

– The vulnerability he hides so well emerges in quieter moments. If you’re spent and too blissed out to move, Hal will gather you against his chest, still warm and slick from your shared efforts, and stroke your hair absentmindedly. He’s careful not to make a big deal of it—he doesn’t want you realizing how soft he can be—but his touch is deliberate, grounding you as you come back to earth from whatever peak he just sent you to. He might even whisper, voice husky, “You looked so good back there, you know. Couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

– But if you call him out for being sweet or overly attentive, the cocky mask slips back on in record time. “What? I’m just making sure my partner’s in one piece,” he’ll quip, though the pink dusting his cheeks betrays him. Still, it’s clear he relishes these moments just as much as the action itself, even if he hides it behind his usual bravado.

– Hal’s aftercare is as intense and satisfying as the main event: a perfect blend of teasing, tenderness, and the kind of care that only comes from someone who pays attention to every detail—even if he’d never admit it outright.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

– When it comes to Hal Jordan, there’s no denying that his favorite body part is... well, all of him. And honestly, can you blame him? Hal’s Green Lantern suit—skin-tight and sculpted perfectly to his frame—shows off every inch of his physique in painstaking detail, from the broad expanse of his chest to the sharp definition of his thighs. The suit is formed by his willpower, after all, and Hal has no intention of leaving anything to the imagination. He’s fully aware of how good he looks in it and takes every opportunity to remind others, whether it’s through a smirk or a playful, “Can’t help it if the uniform does all the work.”

– If pressed to choose, though, Hal would probably say his favorite parts are the ones people notice first: his arms, chest, and back. His arms are undeniably impressive—thick and corded with muscle, the result of years spent as a test pilot and Green Lantern. He loves how they look when he’s lifting or holding you, the subtle flex of his biceps drawing attention without even trying. “Bet you can’t keep your eyes off these, huh?” he might tease, flexing just enough to make you roll your eyes (and blush).

– His chest—a feature that somehow manages to look both approachable and commanding. It’s broad enough to provide comfort when you lean into him, yet strong enough to carry the weight of his responsibilities. And let’s be real: Hal definitely notices when your eyes linger there, even if he pretends not to. He’s the type to smirk and say something ridiculous, like, “Careful, I’m starting to think you’re just here for the view.”

– His back, though, is what really sets him apart. It’s not about sheer size but the way every movement highlights the smooth, lean strength he carries. Whether he’s flying, creating a construct with his ring, or throwing a playful glance over his shoulder, his back tells its own story. It’s graceful and functional, a reflection of the precision and control that define both his role as a Green Lantern and his daredevil tendencies. He relishes the way your hands linger there too and is especially smug about the fact that his back is just as enticing when it’s bare, a fact you’ve undoubtedly confirmed more than once.

– And while Hal would never openly talk about it, his manhood absolutely makes the list. Of course, he’s proud of that too—he’s Hal Jordan, after all—but he’d rather let his partner be the one to sing its praises (and trust him, he loves hearing those praises). Still, when it comes to the parts of him that draw attention first, it’s the show-stopping combination of arms, chest, and back that take the spotlight. After all, what’s the point of saving the universe if you can’t look damn good doing it?

– Now, as far as you and Hal’s favorite part(s) on you, it’s all about your hands. As a man who thrives on touch and connection, he’s completely enamored by the way your hands look on him. There’s something intoxicating about how they feel clasped in his during a quiet, intimate moment, or the way they roam over his arms, chest, or back when things heat up. He lives for that tactile worship, his ego swelling every time your fingers linger on his muscles, tracing the contours of his body like you’re mapping out uncharted territory. – And when he’s carrying you—whether it’s out of danger or into the bedroom—he’ll revel in how your hands instinctively cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders or trailing down his back.

– But here’s the thing: Hal isn’t just a sucker for your hands—he’s an unapologetic ass man through and through. It’s practically written into his DNA. That skin-tight Green Lantern suit of his? It’s not just for show. Every inch of him is pressed flush against you when he’s feeling bold, and he loves nothing more than sidling up behind you, his front teasingly snug against your back. His gloved hands will inevitably slide down to cup you, pulling you closer as he murmurs something utterly shameless into your ear, like, “This is my favorite view. Don’t you think the suit was made for moments like this?”

– Hal doesn’t just stop at appreciating the visual—oh no, he’s tactile to the core. He’s constantly finding excuses to touch, grab, and admire every curve. Whether it’s a teasing slap as you walk by or his hands firmly gripping your hips while he’s pressing you into a wall, Hal’s all about staking his claim. And let’s not forget the sheer amusement he gets when he’s grinding against you, letting you feel exactly how worked up he’s gotten just from the sway of your hips or the way your body fits against his. He’ll chuckle low in your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he says, “You know, it’s really not fair how good you look in that. What are you trying to do to me?”

– But it’s not just a physical thing for Hal—it’s the reactions he draws out of you that really get him going. He loves watching your body respond to his touch, the way your muscles tense or relax under his hands. And when you let out a breathy moan or arch into him? That’s game over. He’ll double down, his lips trailing across your neck as his hands roam freely, all while whispering praises and downright filthy promises of what’s to come.

– For Hal, your body is a playground, and he’s intent on exploring every inch of it. But there’s something about the way you fit so perfectly in his arms—how your body molds to his—that makes him wonder if his ring knew exactly what it was doing when it chose him. And if that thought doesn’t make you blush, well, his hands slipping lower as he asks, “Mind if I take another look?” certainly will.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

– When it comes to Hal Jordan, let’s just say he’s a shooter—and an impressive one at that. Hal’s release is intense, a reflection of the passion and energy he pours into everything he does. You’ll know exactly when he reaches his peak because it’s overwhelming, almost explosive. The first few shots hit with purpose, leaving no doubt that Hal’s body is working overtime to ensure you’re thoroughly marked. He’s not just a Green Lantern; he’s practically a human firework in bed, and trust him, he’s proud of it.

– As for volume? Oh, Hal’s got you covered—literally. One load from him is enough to leave you a sticky, heaving mess, dripping with evidence of just how thoroughly he’s claimed you. It’s not a small amount either; Hal’s stamina translates directly into how much he can produce, and let’s just say his reserves are far from empty. You might even tease him about how much there is, only for him to smirk and fire back, “What can I say? I’m thorough.”

– The potency of his seed is no joke either. Hal’s the kind of guy who doesn’t half-ass anything, and that includes what his body produces. It’s thick, warm, and unmistakably him—a perfect mix of his raw masculinity and the relentless willpower that fuels him. He’ll revel in the sight of you completely covered, running his fingers through the mess he’s made and murmuring something utterly filthy, like, “You wear me so well, you know that? Might have to keep you like this for a while.”

– If you prefer things a little cleaner, though, Hal’s just as happy taking things inside. He loves the idea of filling you to the brim, of leaving you so full that you feel him even after the moment’s passed. And when you shift or move afterward, feeling the evidence of him still lingering inside you? That’s enough to send him into another round. He’ll press a hand to your stomach, grinning devilishly as he whispers, “Still feel me, don’t you? Don’t worry—I’ve got more where that came from.”

– With Hal, it’s never just about the act itself—it’s about the aftermath too. He loves seeing the aftermath of his passion, whether it’s the mess he’s left on your skin or the way your body trembles in the afterglow. And if he has his way, he’ll make sure you’re carrying the memory of him long after the moment’s over, in every possible sense of the word.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

– Hal Jordan’s dirty little secret? He gets off on the thrill of being caught. As fearless as he is in the field, there’s something about pushing the boundaries of propriety in his personal life that really gets his heart racing—and other parts of him too. The idea of sneaking away with you during a high-stakes mission or ducking into a secluded corner of the Watchtower for a quick, forbidden rendezvous? That’s his personal kryptonite.

– What makes it scandalous is just how close he’s come to being discovered. Hal has a habit of taking risks, from pulling you onto his lap in the pilot’s seat of his fighter jet to whispering filthy promises into your ear when you’re supposed to be focused on a meeting. And while he’d never let anyone else catch a glimpse of what’s his, there’s something about the risk of Superman walking in mid-act or Batman figuring out what’s really going on in the supply closet that sends a jolt of adrenaline straight to his core. He’d laugh it off if anyone accused him—“Me? Do something like that? Nah, you’ve got the wrong guy.”—but the flushed ears and cocky grin would give him away.

– The most shocking part of all? Hal keeps a personal collection of mementos from his riskier encounters: a photo snapped in secret during an especially steamy moment in the cockpit, or a pair of boxers he swiped from you after one of your more passionate nights. – – – Tucked away in his locker or hidden in his apartment, these little trophies remind him of just how good it feels to have something no one else knows about—something only he and his partner share. If the League ever found out, Hal would play it cool, but deep down, the thought of being confronted about it would absolutely mortify him... in the most thrilling way possible.

– For Hal, it’s not just about breaking the rules—it’s about bending them just enough to keep things interesting. And if that means taking a few risks to satisfy his insatiable desire for you? Well, that’s just part of the fun.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

– Hal Jordan might be a cocky flirt, but don’t let the snarky remarks from his teammates fool you—when it comes to experience, he’s far from lacking. Sure, he might have heard a jab or two about his supposed performance (thanks, Diana), but Hal’s not the type to let those comments get to him. In fact, he thrives on proving people wrong. Beneath his overconfident exterior is a man who knows exactly what he’s doing—and takes great pride in leaving his partner breathless, satisfied, and craving more.

– Hal’s history of flings and encounters isn’t just about notches on the bedpost; it’s been a training ground for him to perfect his craft. He knows how to read your body like it’s a flight manual, mapping out every sensitive spot and memorizing exactly how to bring you to your knees. His touch is electric, like the constructs he wields, and he’s not afraid to get creative—pinning your wrists above your head with one hand while his other works its magic, his mouth leaving a trail of heat down your neck. Hal is a man who studies his partner, and by the time he’s done with you, he’ll have your every moan, gasp, and shiver committed to memory.

– And let’s be real—Hal is absolutely the type to let his mouth run before the action even starts. He’ll tease you relentlessly, his voice dropping to a low, seductive drawl as he leans in close, murmuring things like, “You sure you’re ready for this? I don’t do anything halfway, sweetheart.” It’s not just a promise; it’s a warning. Because once Hal gets started, there’s no stopping him until you’re trembling, spent, and begging him for mercy.

– His rhythm is as smooth as his piloting skills—precise, confident, and utterly relentless. Hal knows how to pace himself, starting slow to build anticipation before ramping up into a rhythm that leaves you seeing stars. And when he hears you lose control? That’s the moment he turns it up even more, using his strength and stamina to push you further than you thought possible. Hal doesn’t just take you to the edge—he shoves you over it, holding you steady as your body writhes beneath him.

– But the real kicker? Hal gets off on the aftermath just as much as the main event. He loves seeing you absolutely wrecked, skin flushed, legs shaking, and lips swollen from his kisses. He’ll grin down at you, smug and satisfied, as he brushes his thumb across your jaw and murmurs, “Told you I was good. Don’t worry—I’ve got plenty more where that came from.” And he means it. Hal’s stamina isn’t just impressive—it’s almost unfair. One round is never enough for him; he’s determined to make sure you’re as thoroughly claimed as possible, inside and out.

– For Hal Jordan, sex is an art form, and he’s a master of his craft. He doesn’t just want to satisfy you—he wants to ruin you for anyone else. And judging by the way you’ll still feel him long after he’s done, there’s no doubt he succeeds every time.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

– For Hal Jordan, sex isn’t just about intimacy—it’s a performance, a chance to show off exactly what he can do, and trust him, he’s got the moves to back up his bravado. Hal thrives in positions where he’s in control, his strength and endurance on full display, and where he can quite literally see the effect he’s having on you. Here are his absolute favorites:

1) Standing Carry: Hal loves nothing more than showing off his strength by picking you up and taking you wherever he pleases. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he holds you effortlessly, one hand supporting your back while the other grips your ass firmly, pulling you flush against him. He loves how you gasp when he moves with purpose, his hips slamming into yours as he presses you against a wall—or, if you’re really lucky, carries you straight to the bed without ever breaking rhythm. His smug grin is practically glued to his face as he growls, “See? Told you I’d take care of you. You just sit back and let me handle everything.”

2) Plank Position: Hal has an almost stubborn need to prove his stamina, and this position is all about endurance. With you lying beneath him, your legs wrapped around his hips, Hal supports himself on his forearms or hands, driving into you with a controlled, steady rhythm. He loves the full view of your face, watching every reaction as he angles himself just right to pull moans and gasps from your lips. Bonus points? The way his body flexes above you, his arms and chest on full display as he leans down to murmur dirty praises in your ear, “You feel that? Only I can make you like this.”

3) Missionary (With Legs Over His Shoulders): Hal’s favorite twist on the classic. With your legs draped over his broad shoulders, he gets deeper than ever, watching with smug satisfaction as you arch and cry out beneath him. He thrives on the intimacy of it, how close he can get to your face to see the full effect of his thrusts. And if you grip his biceps or claw at his back? That’s just icing on the cake. He’s not shy about reminding you how good he’s making you feel, whispering things like, “No one else can fuck you like this, can they?” as he picks up the pace to leave you breathless.

4) Standing From Behind: Hal is all about leverage and control, and this position lets him put both on display. With you bent over in front of him—whether it’s against a table, a bed, or even the nearest wall—Hal takes full advantage of the angle to hit all the right spots. His hands grip your hips firmly, pulling you back against him with every thrust, while he murmurs filthy things like, “You feel that, don’t you? Tell me how good it feels, baby.” He’s absolutely the type to catch sight of himself in a mirror mid-act and smirk at the view—because let’s face it, the sight of him owning you so thoroughly is just too good to resist.

5) Seated Position: This is Hal’s go-to when he’s in the mood for something slower but no less intense. Sitting back in a chair—or more likely, the cockpit of a jet—he pulls you into his lap, letting you ride him while his hands roam freely across your body. He loves the control this position gives you while he leans back to enjoy the view, guiding your movements with firm hands on your waist or thighs. And if you falter, he’s quick to take over, thrusting up into you with a wicked grin as he mutters, “Come on, sweetheart. I know you’ve got more in you than that.”

– For Hal, it’s not just about the position itself—it’s about how much effort he can pour into it, how much he can make you feel. Whether it’s holding you up with ease, driving into you with relentless precision, or leaving you utterly wrecked in the aftermath, Hal’s favorite position is always the one that lets him prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that no one else can even come close.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

– Hal Jordan is the king of cracking a joke at the most inappropriate moments, and the bedroom is no exception. He thrives on keeping things lighthearted and fun, even in the filthiest of moments. Expect a cheeky comment like, “Careful, don’t get addicted,” when he’s going down on you, or a smirk and a playful, “That all you’ve got?” when you’re clawing at him for more.

– If something unexpected happens—like an awkward slip or an overly enthusiastic move—Hal doesn’t just roll with it; he makes it part of the fun. He’ll laugh, kiss you breathless, and say something ridiculous like, “Guess we’re trying out the blooper reel tonight.” But don’t let his humor fool you—Hal’s still relentless in his focus on making you come undone. He just thinks it’s more fun when you’re laughing and moaning at the same time.

– And if you ever try to match his banter mid-act? Oh, he’s all in. Hal loves a partner who can keep up with his sharp tongue, turning your playful remarks into fuel for his dirty, teasing retorts. But don’t be surprised when he shuts you up the fastest way he knows how—with his lips, his hands, or a deep, calculated thrust that leaves you too wrecked to respond. “That’s better,” he’ll say with a grin, “Guess I’m the funny one after all.”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

– Hal Jordan is the type of guy who keeps things just well-groomed enough to look effortlessly sexy without seeming like he’s trying too hard. His hair on top? Always a little tousled, like he just stepped out of a fighter jet or rolled out of bed (and let’s be honest, half the time it’s probably both). Thick, dark brown, and naturally wavy, it’s the kind of hair you want to run your fingers through—whether you’re pulling him closer during a heated kiss or grabbing a fistful while he’s buried between your legs.

– Now, when it comes to body hair, Hal keeps it natural but tidy. His chest and stomach are dusted with just the right amount of dark hair, enough to highlight his rugged masculinity without going full-on lumberjack. He doesn’t wax or shave it entirely, but he trims enough to keep things neat—because he knows you love running your hands over the ridges of his abs and feeling the soft, fine hair beneath your fingertips. And trust him, he loves it too, especially when your nails scrape over his skin just enough to leave marks.

– As for below the belt? Oh, Hal’s definitely a “clean it up but keep it real” kind of guy. The carpet absolutely matches the drapes—a deep brown that’s just as rich and inviting as the rest of him. He trims it down regularly, ensuring there’s no jungle to navigate, because Hal’s all about making things as inviting as possible. He’s the type to smirk and say something cheeky like, “You like what you see? Took me a whole five minutes to get it just right.” But the truth is, he puts in just enough effort to make sure you’re as comfortable and distracted as possible when you’re exploring down there.

– And while he might not admit it out loud, Hal secretly loves it when you pay attention to his hair—whether it’s tugging on the strands during an intense moment, raking your fingers down his chest, or pressing your lips to the soft trail leading below his waist. It’s those little touches that make him feel completely irresistible—and trust him, with Hal Jordan, that’s exactly how he wants you to feel.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

– Hal Jordan may come across as cocky and overconfident most of the time, but when it comes to intimacy, there’s a side of him that’s deeper, softer, and entirely devoted to making you feel like the only person in the universe. Sure, he starts things off with his trademark smirks and filthy teasing—murmuring things like, “You ready for me to blow your mind?”—but the moment things get serious, Hal pours every ounce of his focus into you. For him, intimacy is about connection, and he’s determined to make sure you feel every bit of his passion.

– Hal’s not afraid of getting close—really close. He’s the type to hold your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones as he kisses you deeply, making you forget the world outside. His eyes stay locked on yours whenever possible, dark with lust and affection as he whispers against your lips, “You’re so perfect like this, you know that?” And while his words are hot enough to melt you, his actions speak even louder. Every touch, every movement is deliberate, designed to pull you deeper into his orbit and remind you that in this moment, it’s just the two of you.

– He’s surprisingly patient too, despite his usual impulsive nature. Hal takes his time exploring every inch of you, memorizing the way your body responds to his touch. He’ll kiss a slow, tantalizing path down your neck, across your chest, and lower still, pausing to murmur against your skin, “I could spend all night right here, you know.” And if you shiver or moan in response? That’s all the encouragement he needs to keep going, to push you higher and higher until you’re completely undone.

– But Hal’s intimacy doesn’t stop at the physical. He’s just as intent on making you feel seen—like you’re the center of his world. He’ll whisper things that make your heart skip a beat, like how stunning you look beneath him or how he’s never felt this way with anyone else. And while he might throw in a cheeky comment here or there to keep things light, his softer side shines through in the way he holds you close, his hands roaming your body like he never wants to let go.

– When you’re completely spent, trembling and dazed from his relentless attention, Hal will wrap you up in his arms and press kisses to your forehead, your nose, your lips. He’ll murmur something cocky but sweet, like, “Told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? And I’m not done yet.” Because for Hal, intimacy isn’t just about the act—it’s about leaving you so overwhelmed with pleasure and love that you never question how much you mean to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

– Hal Jordan may radiate cocky, overconfident energy, but even he has his moments of pure, primal need—when there’s no one around to satisfy him, and his hand becomes his only option. And trust this: Hal doesn’t half-ass anything, not even when he’s jerking off. It’s a performance for one, and he makes sure it’s just as intense and satisfying as if you were there to help him out.

– When Hal gets in the mood, it’s usually quick and unplanned—a flash of a memory from a heated moment with you, the way your body felt against his, or the sound of your breathless moans replaying in his mind. He’ll grip himself firmly, his strokes starting slow as he leans back against whatever surface is closest—a couch, his bed, hell, even the cockpit of his jet if it’s been that kind of day. His teeth catch on his bottom lip as he imagines your touch instead of his own, and it doesn’t take long for him to get lost in the fantasy.

– Hal’s not quiet, either. He groans low and deep, his breath hitching every time his hand squeezes just right or his thumb grazes the sensitive head. He’s filthy, too, muttering your name under his breath along with fragments of the dirty things he wants to do to you. “Fuck, baby, you’d look so good on your knees for me… God, I can’t stop thinking about how you’d take me, begging for more—just like that.” His free hand trails down his abs or grips his thigh, needing something to hold onto as his pace picks up, faster and harder with every stroke.

– Hal’s fantasies are vivid, too, and they only fuel the intensity of his release. He imagines your mouth on him, your hands gripping his hips, or the way your body trembles beneath him as he takes you apart piece by piece. When he comes, it’s explosive—hot ropes of cum spilling over his fist and onto his stomach, his head tipping back as a guttural groan escapes his lips. He doesn’t stop immediately, either, riding out every wave of pleasure with slow, teasing strokes until he’s spent and panting.

– And afterward? Hal’s the type to chuckle to himself, wiping his hand on the nearest towel or his discarded shirt before muttering something cocky like, “Damn, you’ve got me wrecked, and you’re not even here.” But deep down, it only makes him crave the real thing more—because as satisfying as it is to take care of himself, nothing compares to having you there to help him finish the job.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

– Hal Jordan isn’t just adventurous in the skies—his tastes in the bedroom are just as daring and varied. He’s got a few kinks that keep things interesting, and he’s more than happy to indulge them with the same cocky, confident energy that makes him irresistible. Here are five of his favorites:

1) Dominance and Power Play: Hal lives to be in control, and nothing gets him off more than seeing you submit completely to him. He loves the way you melt under his touch, letting him take the reins as he orders you exactly how to move, what to do, and when to let go. His commands are firm but laced with filthy praise, like, “That’s it, baby. Keep those legs spread just like that for me—don’t move unless I tell you to.” And when you follow his lead perfectly? Oh, he rewards you in the best ways possible, leaving you shaking and begging for more.

2) Worship and Praise Kink: Hal’s ego is as big as the universe, and he loves it when you make him feel like a god. Whether it’s kissing and licking your way down his chest, whispering how amazing he feels inside you, or simply moaning his name like a prayer, he thrives on being the center of your attention. His favorite? When you’re on your knees, eyes full of need as you take him into your mouth, only to hear him groan, “Fuck, you look so good like that. I could watch you worship me all night.”

3) Exhibitionism and Risky Encounters: Hal gets off on the thrill of being caught, and he’s not shy about suggesting public or semi-public escapades. Whether it’s pulling you into a closet on the Watchtower, sneaking a quickie in the cockpit of his jet, or taking you against the nearest wall at a party, he craves the adrenaline rush that comes with pushing boundaries. He’ll chuckle wickedly in your ear and say things like, “Think anyone can hear us? Let’s give them a show they won’t forget.” And the more you squirm, the harder it is for him to hold back.

4) Overstimulation and Edging: Hal loves to draw things out, teasing you until you’re a writhing mess beneath him. He takes his time, pushing you to the brink over and over again, only to pull back just before you fall apart. His hands, mouth, and even his Green Lantern ring become tools in his arsenal, all designed to make you beg for release. He’ll smirk down at you and say, “Come on, baby, you can take more. Let me see how far I can push you.” And when he finally lets you come? It’s so intense you’ll feel like you’re floating in zero gravity.

5) Marking and Claiming: Hal’s possessive streak comes out in the bedroom, and he loves leaving his mark on you—bruises from his grip on your hips, bite marks on your neck, or the feeling of him dripping out of you long after he’s finished. He’ll revel in the sight of you wearing his marks, leaning down to kiss them tenderly before growling, “Now everyone will know exactly who you belong to.” And when he’s filling you to the brim, his hands pressing against your stomach to feel just how deep he is? That’s when he’s completely in his element, making sure there’s no doubt in your mind—or anyone else’s—that you’re his.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

– For Hal Jordan, location isn’t just about where—it’s about how risky and how hot the situation can get. As a man who thrives on danger and excitement, he’s not content with keeping things confined to the bedroom. Hal’s favorite locations are as bold and daring as he is, each one chosen to satisfy his craving for adventure while pushing your limits in the most delicious ways.

1) The Cockpit: As a test pilot and Green Lantern, the cockpit is practically Hal’s second home—and he loves nothing more than breaking the rules in the very place that defines him. Whether it’s in a grounded jet during a late-night hangar visit or mid-air with the autopilot engaged, Hal gets a thrill out of having you straddle him in the pilot’s seat. His hands grip your hips as he whispers, “Bet you’ve never joined the mile-high club like this before.” And the thought of anyone catching you in the act only spurs him on, his thrusts matching the intensity of the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

2) The Watchtower (Semi-Public): There’s something undeniably thrilling about sneaking away with you aboard the Justice League’s headquarters, finding a secluded room or corner where you almost won’t be discovered. Hal loves pinning you against a wall, his body shielding yours as he murmurs into your ear, “Think Batman’s got cameras in here? Let’s give him something to watch.” The sheer audacity of it drives him wild, and he makes it a point to leave you trembling and breathless before you both return to the team meeting like nothing happened.

3) Against the Wall (Anywhere): Hal is a firm believer that walls were made for pushing you up against, and he doesn’t care where it happens—as long as he can have you. Whether it’s in a dark alley, the side of a building, or even a shower stall, Hal takes full advantage of the position. His hands grip your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he presses you against the cool surface, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. And if someone’s nearby? Even better. The risk of getting caught only makes him move harder, faster, whispering filthy things like, “Let them hear how good I’m making you feel.”

4) The Lantern Construct: Has no one ever even considered the perks of being a Green Lantern? Unlimited creativity with your constructs! Hal loves creating a glowing green bed, chair, or platform in the middle of nowhere—a floating masterpiece designed just for you. Whether it’s high above the city skyline or deep in a secluded forest, Hal revels in the freedom of taking you wherever and however he wants. His cocky grin says it all as he murmurs, “Only I could pull off something this good, right?” And when the glowing green light illuminates your body beneath him? That’s a memory Hal will never forget.

5) The Beach (Under the Stars): Hal may love risk, but he’s not against a little romance either. Late at night on a secluded beach, he’ll lay you down in the sand, the sound of waves crashing in the background as he makes love to you under the stars. His cocky attitude takes a backseat to his more tender side, though he still can’t resist murmuring things like, “Bet you’ve never had someone fuck you under the Milky Way before.” The mix of intimacy and raw passion is enough to leave you breathless, completely captivated by him.

– For Hal, location is all about adding excitement and variety to the experience. Whether it’s somewhere bold and risky or a place steeped in intimacy, he makes every moment unforgettable—just the way he likes it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

– Hal Jordan isn’t a hard man to arouse—his cocky confidence and thrill-seeking nature mean that just about any situation has the potential to set him off. But there are a few things in particular that really get him going, driving him to the brink of control as he works to take you apart piece by piece.

1) Challenge: For Hal Jordan, there’s nothing more arousing than a challenge—whether it’s your confidence daring him to step up, or his own insecurities lighting a fire under him to prove he’s the best. Hal thrives on the thrill of competition, and when he feels the need to silence his inner doubts, that sharp edge of desire takes over. He pours every ounce of his energy into you, determined to leave you utterly wrecked, your body trembling and your voice hoarse from screaming his name. It’s about staking his claim, making sure you know, without a doubt, that he’s unmatched. For Hal, the challenge isn’t just about winning—it’s about proving, again and again, that he’s the only one who could ever leave you begging for more.

2) Jealousy and Possessiveness: Piggybacking off that, naturally, this is something that also riles up the Green Lantern just as much. Hal is competitive by nature, and nothing stokes his fire quite like the thought of someone else eyeing what’s his. A passing comment, a lingering glance, or even a harmless laugh shared with someone else is enough to set his possessive streak ablaze. You’ll know he’s jealous when his touches become rougher, his kisses more demanding, and his voice drops to a growl as he pulls you closer, whispering things like, “You’re mine. Don’t forget it.” He won’t stop until you’re screaming his name, every moan and shiver a reminder of exactly who you belong to. Pinning you down, his voice will drop to a low growl as he thrusts into you relentlessly, whispering filthy promises like, “No one else could ever fuck you like this. Say it. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.” He doesn’t just want to hear it—he needs to, each word soothing the flicker of insecurity hidden beneath his cocky exterior. But it’s not just about jealousy—it’s about staking his claim, proving to you and himself that, without a doubt, he’s unmatched.

3) Clothing (or the Lack Thereof): Hal has a thing for how you wear—or don’t wear—your clothes, especially when your frame contrasts with his. Catch him off guard lounging in nothing but his Green Lantern shirt, the hem barely covering your hips, and he’ll be on you in seconds, his hands sliding beneath it as he growls, “You trying to kill me? This looks better on you than it ever did on me.” Or tease him with a snug outfit like a tailored suit or a good crop top paired with some short gym trousers that hugs all the right places, and he’ll spend the night failing to keep his hands to himself, his touch lingering on your back, waist, or hips as he mutters, “You know I can’t focus when you look like that.” But the real killer? Watching you undress, piece by piece, until he can’t take it anymore. He’ll pull you into his lap, his big hands gripping your hips possessively as he murmurs against your ear, “Keep going—I want to see everything. And don’t think for a second you’re getting away with teasing me like that.”

4) The Thrill of the Moment: Hal thrives on adrenaline, and it’s no different in the bedroom. The idea of sneaking away during a party, finding a secluded corner at the Watchtower, or even stealing a moment during a mission sets his blood on fire. He’ll push you up against the nearest surface, his lips on your neck as he growls, “We shouldn’t be doing this here... but damn, I can’t stop myself.” The rush of being somewhere you shouldn’t be, coupled with the risk of getting caught, makes everything ten times hotter for him.

5) Your Reactions: At the end of the day, Hal lives for your responses. The way your body arches into his touch, the sounds you make when he hits the right spot, or the way you moan his name when you can’t hold back anymore—those are the things that drive him wild. He’ll do anything to pull more reactions from you, murmuring things like, “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you—don’t hold back.” The louder and more desperate you get, the harder Hal goes, fueled by the knowledge that no one else can make you feel the way he does.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

– Hal Jordan might be open-minded and adventurous, but there are some hard limits he won’t cross. Anything involving cruelty or humiliation is a firm no for him—he’s here to build you up, not tear you down. He also draws the line at anything that takes away your ability to give enthusiastic consent; the thought of you not being fully into it kills the mood instantly—unless we’re talking a Yandere situation or even something like the scenario from “Love’s Punishment." And while he thrives on teasing and pushing boundaries, anything that genuinely hurts or scares you is off the table. “I want you to feel good, not afraid,” he’ll say, his voice soft but firm. At the end of the day, Hal’s all about mutual pleasure, trust, and making sure you’re as satisfied as he is.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

– Hal Jordan? Oh, he’s all in when it comes to oral—both giving and receiving. His cocky confidence extends to the bedroom (or wherever you’re lucky enough to find yourselves), and oral play is no exception. Hal knows exactly how good he looks when your lips are wrapped around him, and he’s not shy about telling you. His hands thread through your hair, his grip firm but never forceful, guiding you with murmured praise like, “That’s it, baby—fuck, you’re so good at this.” And the way his hips occasionally buck into your mouth? Pure reflex, a testament to how much you’ve got him unraveling.

– Hal lives for the visual: the sight of you on your knees, your smaller frame between his thighs, taking him inch by inch while his head tips back and a groan escapes his lips. The stretch of your mouth around him alone is enough to push him close to the edge, but he prides himself on his willpower. He’ll hold himself back as long as possible, savoring every flick of your tongue and the way your hands work in tandem, his breaths coming out in shallow gasps. But don’t mistake his stamina for disinterest—if you keep going long enough, the sight of you combined with the pressure building inside him will eventually win out. And when he comes? It’s hard and fast, his grip tightening as he spills into your mouth, his voice rough as he groans, “Fuck, just like that. Don’t stop—take all of it.”

– As much as Hal loves being on the receiving end, giving head—pole or hole but hole may be his preference—is where his competitive streak and ego really shine. He loves the idea of reducing you to a trembling mess, completely at his mercy as he takes his time exploring every sensitive spot. He starts slow, his tongue swirling and teasing, pulling you to the brink before backing off just to hear you beg. And when he finally decides to let loose? Hal is relentless, his lips, tongue, and fingers working in perfect sync to drag you over the edge. He thrives on the sound of your moans, the way your hands clutch at his hair, and the sight of your thighs trembling beneath him. “That’s it,” he growls, his voice muffled against your skin, “Give it to me. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

– Hal’s ego ensures he’s very skilled—he’s fully capable of bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm with just his mouth, and he takes immense pride in doing so. It’s not just about the end result for him; it’s about the journey, the control, and the satisfaction of knowing he’s the one who left you completely undone. Whether he’s giving or receiving, Hal makes oral play an unforgettable experience, one that leaves both of you gasping for more.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

– Hal Jordan’s pace depends entirely on his mood—and yours—but no matter the tempo, he’s all in. When he’s in the mood for something slow and sensual, Hal turns the experience into an art form. His movements are deliberate, calculated, and unbearably teasing, designed to make you feel every inch of him as he drags out your pleasure. He’ll keep his hips rolling in a steady rhythm, his body pressed flush against yours as he whispers, “You feel that? Every single stroke? Yeah, I’m not stopping until you’re begging for it.” He thrives on the way your body arches into him, his hands gripping your waist to keep you right where he wants you.

– But when passion overtakes him—or if you’ve been teasing him all day—Hal shifts into a much rougher, more relentless gear. His thrusts are deep, hard, and fast, each one landing with enough force to leave you gasping, your nails digging into his back or shoulders for support. He loves hearing you cry out his name, the sound driving him to push even harder as he growls, “Come on, baby. Take it. I know you can handle it.” Hal’s stamina means he can keep this up for as long as it takes to have you completely undone, leaving you trembling and breathless beneath him.

– What makes Hal so intoxicating is how easily he switches between the two. He’ll start slow, teasing you until you’re clawing at him to go faster, only to smirk and say, “Patience, sweetheart. We’ve got all night.” And then, just when you think you can’t take another second of the teasing, he picks up the pace, his body driving into yours with enough intensity to leave you seeing stars. Whether it’s slow and torturous or fast and punishing, Hal’s pace is always designed with one goal in mind: leaving you completely wrecked by the time he’s finished.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

– Hal Jordan lives for quickies. The thrill of sneaking in a fast, filthy session when you’re both supposed to be somewhere else? It’s practically tailor-made for him. Whether it’s dragging you into an empty room at the Watchtower, pinning you against a wall in a dimly lit alley, or pulling you into the cockpit of his jet for a little “pre-flight stress relief,” Hal knows how to make every second count.

– There’s no buildup with him during a quickie—he’s on you the moment the door closes, his hands everywhere as he growls, “We don’t have much time, so spread those legs for me. Now.” His pace is relentless, his thrusts hard and fast as he works to get both of you off before you’re caught. He’s not shy about talking dirty, either. “You’re so tight—fuck, I’m not going to last long with you clenching around me like that,” he groans, his breath hot against your neck as his hips slam into you.

– Hal loves the risk, the danger of being caught. It’s not uncommon for him to smirk and whisper, “Think anyone can hear us?” as he covers your mouth with his hand to stifle your moans—or maybe he doesn’t cover it at all, daring you to try and stay quiet as he fucks you so hard your legs give out. His cocky streak shines through even in these rushed moments, and he’ll make sure you know exactly how good he’s making you feel, muttering things like, “Damn, look at all that pre-cum, baby. Stop trying to pretend you don’t love this as much as I do.”

– And if you can’t finish in time? Oh, that only makes Hal more determined. He’ll adjust his grip, angle, and pace until he feels you trembling around him, pulling you over the edge just in time for him to finish inside you with a low, guttural groan. When it’s over, Hal is already straightening his uniform or pants, smirking as he watches you try to catch your breath. “What? Don’t look at me like that,” he teases, running a hand through his hair. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

– For Hal, quickies aren’t just about release—they’re about the rush, the adrenaline, and the satisfaction of leaving you wrecked and barely able to walk while he’s already back to business like nothing happened.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

– Hal Jordan isn’t just comfortable with risk—he thrives on it. Whether it’s in the air or in the bedroom (or somewhere far less private), the thrill of danger lights him up like nothing else. He loves the idea of pushing boundaries, crossing lines, and taking you to places you’ve never dared to go. And when the stakes are high—when there’s a chance someone might walk in or overhear? That’s when Hal gets truly reckless, and his need for you becomes uncontrollable.

– His favorite risks are the ones that make you squirm with both nerves and arousal. Pulling you into an empty meeting room on the Watchtower, pinning you against the door as he growls, “Think Batman’s gonna hear this? Good. Let him know who makes you scream.” Or finding a quiet spot on a rooftop during a mission, bending you over the edge while his lips press against your ear, murmuring, “Don’t look down. Focus on me, baby.” The added element of danger, the risk of being caught or seen, only makes him harder, his thrusts more desperate as he chases the high of knowing he’s taking you right where he shouldn’t.

– And Hal doesn’t just stop at the usual locations. If there’s a way to push things further, he’s the first to suggest it. Creating a glowing green construct in the middle of the sky, high above the city, where anyone looking up could spot the faint light and realize what’s happening? That’s exactly the kind of risk Hal craves. He thrives on the way your smaller body trembles beneath him, your moans carried on the wind as he smirks and mutters, “You’re so fucking loud. Think they know what we’re doing? Good.”

– It’s not just about location, either—it’s about power and control. Hal loves when you trust him enough to let him take charge in situations that feel downright dangerous, like fucking you on a moving jet or in the back of a parked car in broad daylight. His confidence is contagious, his hands steady as he grips your hips and whispers, “I’ve got you. You’re safe with me. Now hold still and let me ruin you.” And if you hesitate or shy away from the risk? Oh, that only makes him more determined to convince you, his voice dripping with lust as he adds, “Don’t be scared, baby. I’ll make it worth it.”

– For Hal, risk isn’t just about breaking rules—it’s about making you feel alive, your heart racing as much from fear as from the way he’s fucking you senseless. Every gasp, every whimper, every desperate moan you let out only fuels his need to push further, harder, leaving you completely undone and breathless from both the pleasure and the adrenaline rush.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

– Hal Jordan’s stamina is, quite simply, superhuman. Whether it’s his time as a test pilot, his duties as a Green Lantern, or the sheer force of willpower that drives him, Hal has the energy and determination to keep going long after most would’ve given up. And in the bedroom? That same relentless spirit shines through, making him the kind of lover who doesn’t just satisfy you—he completely wrecks you.

– One round with Hal is never enough. He’s insatiable, his body still humming with adrenaline even after you’re left trembling and breathless beneath him. He’ll grin down at you, brushing the hair from your face as he murmurs, “Tired already? Come on, baby, I know you’ve got another in you. Let me see it.” And before you can protest, he’s moving again, his hands gripping your hips as he drives into you with the same intensity as before, determined to pull even more moans and cries from your lips.

– Hal doesn’t just rely on physical stamina, though—it’s his mental focus that makes him unstoppable. He thrives on the challenge of seeing how far he can push you, how many orgasms he can pull from your trembling body before you’re a shaking, incoherent mess. His cocky smirk only grows wider every time you beg him to stop, to give you just a moment to catch your breath, and he leans down to whisper, “Not until I’m done with you. And I’m nowhere near done.”

– Even after he’s come hard and fast, Hal’s recovery time is impressive. He barely needs a moment to regroup before he’s ready to go again, his hands already roaming your body as he growls, “I can’t get enough of you. You’re too good for me to stop now.” It’s that endless drive, that need to keep proving himself, that makes Hal unstoppable. He doesn’t just want to satisfy you—he wants to leave you so thoroughly used and spent that you’ll still feel him the next day.

– And even after the physical part is over, Hal’s stamina carries into the aftercare. He’ll hold you close, his hands tracing lazy circles over your skin as he murmurs sweet, filthy praises in your ear, already planning how he’s going to take you again the moment you’re ready. For Hal Jordan, stamina isn’t just about lasting long—it’s about making sure you’re left completely and utterly satisfied, no matter how many rounds it takes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

– Hal Jordan isn’t the kind of guy to keep a drawer full of toys—why would he, when he’s so confident in his ability to satisfy you all on his own? His ego practically demands it. “You don’t need anything extra when you’ve got me,” he’ll say with a smirk, his hand sliding down your body to emphasize his point. But despite his pride, Hal’s no prude when it comes to spicing things up, and if the opportunity to use a toy arises, he’s more than willing to give it a try—especially if it’s going to make you moan louder or come harder.

– The kicker? Hal’s cocky streak means he’d absolutely get a silicone toy molded after himself. Whether it’s a gag gift or something he genuinely thinks you’d enjoy, the thought of you using him even when he’s not there is enough to make his blood run hot. He’d hand it to you with that signature smirk and say something like, “I figured you might need this for the nights I’m saving the galaxy. Just make sure to tell me which one feels better—me or the toy.” And if you tease him about it later? Oh, that’s only going to push him to prove there’s no comparison.

– When it comes to using toys on you, Hal’s enthusiasm is unmatched. The moment he sees how much they turn you on, he’s hooked. His favorite? Vibrating toys that he can use to tease you mercilessly, watching as you squirm and gasp under his control. He’ll press it against your most sensitive spots, holding it there until your body arches off the bed, only to pull it away at the last second with a low chuckle. “What’s wrong, baby? You can’t handle it? Guess I’ll have to take over myself.” Hal’s skillful hands and mouth might leave the toy feeling like second-best, but the combination of the two? That’s a recipe for complete and utter destruction.

– And if you ever decide to surprise him by bringing a toy into the mix yourself? Hal won’t be able to hide how much it turns him on. He loves the thought of you taking control for a moment, guiding his hands or showing him exactly how you want to be touched. But don’t think for a second he’ll let you have the upper hand for long. Hal’s all about reclaiming control, using the toy to push you even further until you’re gasping his name and gripping his arms, completely at his mercy.

– At the end of the day, Hal doesn’t rely on toys—but he’s more than happy to use them if it means making you fall apart in ways you never thought possible. And let’s be honest: the smug satisfaction he gets from watching you come undone, whether it’s his hands or his molded toy, is more than enough to keep him experimenting.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

– Hal Jordan is the definition of unfair in the bedroom. Teasing you until you’re a whimpering, desperate mess is practically a sport to him, and trust him, he’s a champion. He thrives on making you beg, dragging things out until you’re trembling beneath him, clutching at his arms or shoulders and gasping, “Hal, please.” And even then? He doesn’t let up. Instead, he smirks down at you, his fingers trailing maddeningly close to where you need him most as he murmurs, “What’s that? I didn’t hear you. Say it louder, sweetheart.”

– Hal’s favorite game is edging—pushing you right to the brink before pulling back, over and over again, until you’re practically crying with frustration. His hands, his mouth, his Green Lantern ring—everything about him is designed to drive you insane. He’ll kiss and lick his way down your body, his lips brushing over sensitive spots but never quite giving you the pressure you need. “You’re so sensitive here,” he’ll muse, his voice low and smug as his fingers ghost over your thighs. “I bet I could make you come just from this. But I think I’ll wait. You look too good like this—needy and desperate for me.”

– He’s not just unfair with his teasing—his stamina and control make him downright cruel at times. Hal can hold himself back for what feels like an eternity, watching you squirm and arch beneath him as he keeps his thrusts slow and deliberate, just enough to make you moan but not enough to push you over the edge. “You’re close, aren’t you?” he’ll whisper, his lips brushing your ear. “Not yet, baby. I want to see you beg for it first.” And when you finally do? That’s when he snaps, pounding into you with all the intensity he’s been holding back, leaving you breathless and trembling as he grins and mutters, “See? Wasn’t that worth the wait?”

– And let’s not forget his playful side—Hal’s smug remarks only make the teasing worse. If you try to take control or rush him, he’ll pin your wrists above your head, his grin infuriatingly wide as he murmurs, “Oh, you thought you were in charge tonight? Cute. Let me remind you how this works.” He doesn’t just tease; he turns it into a performance, loving every second of your frustration and the way you eventually melt under his touch.

– For Hal, being unfair isn’t just about the power trip—it’s about making sure you fall apart completely, begging for release until he’s ready to give it to you. And when he finally does? You’ll be too wrecked to care how long it took—you’ll just know it was worth every second.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

– Hal Jordan is not the type to keep quiet during sex. Subtlety? That’s for someone else. Hal’s the kind of lover who wants you to know exactly how good you’re making him feel, and he’s not shy about letting it show. From the low, guttural groans that rumble deep in his chest to the sharp gasps and growls that escape when you squeeze around him just right, Hal’s sounds are as intense and raw as the way he takes you.

– When you’re going down on him, he’s especially vocal, his head tipping back as a strained, “Fuck, baby, just like that,” falls from his lips. If you hit a particularly sensitive spot, he won’t hold back a loud, desperate moan, his hand tightening in your hair as his hips buck uncontrollably. He’s not afraid to be loud, and honestly? He gets off on the idea that someone might hear him losing control because of you.

– But Hal’s not just about his own sounds—he lives for yours too. The louder you get, the more it fuels him, driving him to go harder, deeper, until your cries and moans fill the room. He’ll mutter filthy things in your ear, his voice low and gravelly as he growls, “Come on, sweetheart, let me hear you. I know you’ve got more in you.” And if you try to stifle your sounds? Hal will take it as a challenge, doing everything in his power to pull those desperate, uninhibited noises from you. “Don’t hold back,” he’ll command, his grin wicked as he thrusts into you harder. “I want the whole damn building to know who’s making you scream.”

– When Hal finally comes, it’s loud, unrestrained, and raw. His groans morph into a broken cry, his voice rough and hoarse as he gasps your name like a prayer. Even in the aftermath, his breaths are heavy and labored, interspersed with occasional murmurs of “You’re too fucking good, you know that?” as he pulls you close.

– For Hal, volume isn’t just an afterthought—it’s part of the experience, an auditory testament to the pleasure he’s giving and receiving. And trust him, whether it’s your sounds or his, he’s making damn sure you both leave the room with hoarse voices and no doubt in your mind about how good it was.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

– Wouldn’t it be funny if Hal had a secret kink for doing it in zero gravity. Like, the man’s job–outside his actual job, that is–literally involves him being in space majority of the time. Like…take him off-planet, and the man is in his element, turning the vastness of space into his personal playground. He discovered it the first time he created a floating green construct bed with his ring, pulling you into his arms and realizing how much fun it was to move without gravity’s constraints. Now, it’s one of his favorite things to do during his time away from Earth and if you’re able to come along with him.

– The lack of gravity only amplifies the intimacy—and the filth. With no weight to hold you down, Hal takes full advantage of being able to flip and reposition you however he pleases, all while murmuring dirty praises like, “Look at you, floating here like you were made for me. Bet no one else could fuck you like this.” His hands and body keep you perfectly balanced, one arm pulling you tight against him as he thrusts into you in deep, deliberate strokes that leave you breathless. And the way your smaller frame moves so effortlessly in his grasp? Oh, that’s just another power trip for him, and he loves every second of it.

– The best part for Hal, though, is how gravity—or the lack thereof—makes everything feel more intense. Every touch, every thrust sends you spiraling, your moans echoing in the silence of space as his cocky grin grows wider. “Don’t hold back, sweetheart,” he’ll growl, “No one’s around to hear you but me.” And when you finally come undone, your body trembling and weightless in his arms, he’ll hold you close, his lips brushing against your temple as he murmurs, “Told you space sex was the best. Ready for round two?”

– For Hal, the thrill of zero-gravity sex isn’t just about the novelty—it’s about taking something ordinary and turning it into something unforgettable, just like everything else he does. And trust him, once you’ve experienced it, you’ll never look at Earth sex the same way again.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

– When it comes to Hal Jordan’s cock, let’s just say it lives up to his cocky personality—impressive, commanding, and damn near unforgettable. Hal is absolutely a grower, though, which feels almost like an ego flex in itself. He might look average when soft, but the second things heat up? He’s packing more than enough to make your breath hitch. By the time he’s fully hard, he’s sitting at 7.5 to 8 inches in length, thick enough to leave you gasping as he stretches you wide with every thrust.

– His girth is substantial but not overwhelming, perfectly balanced to hit that sweet spot between pleasure and a delicious burn. He’s slightly thicker at the base, tapering just enough to make the first few inches feel like a challenge before he slides the rest of the way in, the stretch leaving you clawing at him and gasping, “Fuck, Hal, you’re so big.” And trust him, he lives for those words—there’s no greater turn-on for him than watching you struggle to take all of him, your body trembling as he pushes you to your limits.

– Hal’s cock has a very slight upward curve, enough to hit all the right spots with devastating precision. He knows how to angle his hips just right, making sure that every stroke leaves you moaning his name. The head is prominent and slightly flared, giving you an extra stretch as he slides in and out, the sensation almost too much to handle. He’s circumcised, the skin smooth and warm under your touch, and you’ll notice the faint veins running along the shaft, adding just enough texture to make every thrust feel even better. And trust him, he knows exactly how to use it. Every thrust is calculated, designed to leave you trembling and clinging to him for more. “You like how deep I’m hitting you?” he’ll growl, his cocky smirk widening as he drives deeper. “Told you I’d ruin you.”

– He’s circumcised, with a flared head that’s perfectly shaped for dragging along your most sensitive spots, leaving you shuddering with every stroke. The veins running along his shaft aren’t overly pronounced but enough to add texture that sends sparks through your body when he slides into you. The skin is smooth, warm, and a natural, slightly darker shade than the rest of his body, adding to the raw, rugged appeal of him.

– Hal takes pride in how clean and well-kept he is, always making sure he’s trimmed and ready for action. His scent is faintly musky but not overpowering—just enough to drive you wild when he’s got you pressed close, your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock sliding in and out of you with an almost unbearable rhythm. And when he’s fully hard, the weight and heat of him in your hands or against your body is enough to make your mouth water.

– For Hal, his cock isn’t just a part of him—it’s a weapon, and he wields it with the same confidence and skill as he does his constructs. He knows exactly what he’s packing, and he’s damn proud of it, using it to make sure you’re screaming his name long before he’s finished with you. And trust him—once you’ve had Hal, nothing else will ever compare.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

– Hal Jordan’s yearning is nothing short of all-consuming. When he wants you, he doesn’t just feel it—he’s overtaken by it, his every thought consumed by the need to have you, touch you, and claim you as his. It starts with a slow burn, a lingering glance that turns into an unrelenting hunger. Once that fire is lit, Hal doesn’t hold back, his need for you dripping from every word, every touch, and every shameless groan as he pulls you closer.

– Hal is the type to obsess over every detail of you when he’s caught in his longing. The way your body feels pressed against his, the sound of your breath hitching as his lips trail down your neck, the way your smaller frame fits perfectly beneath his. The sight of you—clothed, half-dressed, or completely bare—is enough to send his mind spiraling, his cock already straining against his pants as he mutters, “You have no idea what you do to me.”

– His yearning can be subtle at first—lingering touches, his thumb brushing over your wrist, or the way his hands grip your hips just a little too firmly. But when it boils over, Hal becomes utterly insatiable. He’ll pin you against the nearest surface, his lips crashing into yours as his voice drops to a desperate growl: “I need you. Right now.” His hands roam your body like he’s memorizing it, his grip firm yet reverent, as though touching you is both a privilege and a necessity.

– Hal’s yearning isn’t just physical—it’s deeply emotional. Beneath the cocky smirks and teasing words lies a man who craves connection, who wants to feel you shatter under his touch and know that he’s the reason. He lives for the way you cry out his name, for the way your body responds to him so perfectly, as though you were made just for him. And when you whisper his name in that breathless, needy tone? It drives him to the brink, making his yearning shift into something primal and raw. “Say it again,” he’ll growl, his lips brushing your ear as he grinds into you. “Tell me you need me as much as I need you.”

– For Hal, yearning is more than just desire—it’s a burning ache that only you can quench. And when he finally has you? He pours every ounce of that longing into the way he touches you, moves inside you, and whispers filthy praises into your ear. Because for Hal Jordan, nothing is more satisfying than turning his yearning into your undoing.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

– After an intense session, Hal Jordan is the type to pull you close, his broad chest pressed against your back as his arm drapes possessively around your waist. He’s not the quickest to fall asleep—his mind tends to wander, replaying every sound and reaction he pulled from you like a highlight reel. But once exhaustion catches up with him, he’s out cold, his breathing steady and his grip on you firm, as if even in sleep, he refuses to let you go. And if you’re still awake, don’t be surprised if he murmurs something smug in a half-asleep haze, like, “Told you I’d wear you out,” before pulling you even closer and drifting off completely.

☀️ | Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[lubrumalis]

ghost character analysis

tw: spoilers from ghost mw2 comics, nsfw, dead dove do not eat, mature content.

this is pretty much a part 2 to ghost headcanons except with more lore and analysis (im still not sure if reboot ghost has the same backstory as the og ghost).

ghost is not a cold, calculated, ruthless man. maybe in a separate au or something, but theres a huge difference between ghost and simon riley. in fact, we need to understand that the reason he even chose ghost as a new name for himself is because of all that's happened to him. his family got killed, he got tortured by roba, and had to eliminate many men on his own. before that he was simon, not ghost. in the comic he literally calls the child hostages he was saving ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love’. hes not that mean and cold yall

we know that PTSD does shit to it's victims, ghost lost his entire family and had no one. think of it as a coping mechanism to have a new name to be known as.

ghost is a ruthless killer. simon is just some guy.

ghost sets himself to an incredibly high standard of discipline. i think it's intuitive that military boys will need to be punctual and organized to some degree, but ghost takes this to a whole other level. considering his father's abusive behavior (explained by his disturbing statements said to simon, is a drug addict, and beats simons mom) his home life was likely chaotic as a child.

in the mw2: ghost comic (issue #3) it specifically stated the following: "discipline, precision, control. these are what riley built his whole life on. break those down and the dark stuff begins to ooze out..." again, this is probably a form of trauma response to his childhood.

so what does this lead to? well firstly, this probably means his room is incredibly tidy and organized (monotone design i know :,c).

would never in his life touch drugs. this is a promise he made to himself.

also kinda proves that ghost aint a reckless guy. he thinks things through before doing it.

ghost isn’t that hypersexual. theres no way of knowing his history with women, but i like to think ghost is not that horny 24/7 and needs a fuckbuddy. in the mw2 comic, he was on a mission and was in an area full of prostitutes (wasn’t actively on duty, but on his way) when they tried to hit on him he politely rejects one of them, and later tells them to fuck off😀 so yea contrary to popular belief i dont think he really enjoys one night stands or the idea of being entertained by random women. in fact, i hc he might actually be a virgin or just have a really low body count.

ghost is a feminist!😁 (misandrist too). ok let me reword that, ghost doesnt like men and respects women. one of the reasons why he doesn’t want to be around prostitutes and do one night stands (his father killed a hooker in front of him, very traumatic) is because he thinks the concept of quick, casual sex is not good for society and dilutes the value of meaningful relationships. but also, remember the discipline, precision, control thing? its apart of his principle. but also, in the comic, sparks (soldier he worked with) knocked out and attempted to rape a woman, ghosts literally looked disgusted and called the police (also why he’d never do that himself, i dont get the hcs that say he does). ghosts seen how his dad treated his mom and absolutely hates abusers. anyways onto misandry—i think ghost internally thinks men are violent and disgusting (ghosts would choose the bear over the man, even though hes a man) mainly because throughout his military career majority of the bad stuff hes seen was done by men, so hes much more relaxed in a room of women vs man. ghost thinks his dad is the epitome of pure evil (canon! he said this to his therapist). this doesn’t mean hes scared or hates all men tho!

ghost isn’t close with tf141… including soap. now before you attack me let me explain. sure, he trusts them to some degree, but i dont think they naturally just hangout when they’re not deployed. in the end we need to understand they are SAS soldiers, they are working a real job that mainly consists of them shooting and dismantling others. considering ghosts betrayal in the past (in the comic, a few soldiers ghost previously worked with killed his entire family 😢) he isn’t gonna just trust his teammates because theyre his teammates. im also pretty sure they all live in different cities while not deployed. tf141 probably all want to separate their job from their personal lives, which includes each other. but onto soap, i dont think him and ghost have a deep brotherly relationship. but i think they care about each other, but exchanging some dad jokes and bantering doesn’t mean they’re suddenly soulmates or brothers. think about it… you and you’re co worker joke around sometimes, never hangout outside of work, and now people are shipping you and calling the two of you besties. makes no sense.

ghost is extremely patriotic. in the comic (i reference this way too much but theres SOOO MUCH LORE i recommend reading it) ghost tells his teammates the reason for joining the military: queen and country, right after 9/11. he also said “the world has changed”. interestingly enough army enlistment did actually skyrocketed after 9/11 attacks, ghost was among them. he probably thought ww3 was about to happen, or that ‘theres no more peace’ or whatever. i hc being obsessed with soccer too lmao and getting mad if english teams dont win. also his playful banter with johnny “get us a tea?”. probably very proud of his british heritage.

ghost doesn’t have much friends. hes a really, reallyyyyy lonely guy. i hc him as an introvert in the first place, but trust issues make this worse. in the comic, he was literally in the newspaper for killing his family and then killing himself (he didnt, he was framed that way tho) so its likely most of his formers friends probably think hes dead. ghost likely got some sort of amnesty or exemption from the military after knowing he didn’t actually kill his family, but whats in the news stays true to the public. even if he does have friends he probably doesn’t share feelings with them or form a long term bond.

ghost is extremely cynical. this is obvious tbh, but i think ghost believes hes going to die in the middle of a battlefield, shot or stabbed, a painful death, body left to rot for weeks, and no one to remember him. just like that. and he accepts that fact too.

ghost isn’t a picky eater. growing up in an abusive household where his parents couldn’t hold a stable job, he had to eat what there was. some days he settles for cheap beans and toast and when people call him out for it, he tells em to fuck off😀

ghost is emotionally fucked up, probably kind of depressed. i mean this guys been through hell: got sa’d, buried alive, had to dig through underground dirt and worms with a jawbone, tortured in horrible ways, had his entire family killed, abusive dad, and the weight of his grey morales because he killed lots of people as a soldier. wow! would you look at that list, itd be more strange if he wasn’t emotionally fucked up after was has happened😅. even when tortured, seeing his family dead, ghost was never shown to have cried in the comic. i hc hes emotionally numb. however, i do think hes emotionally MATURE and able to communicate his emotions, but hes still emotionally fucked. for example a scene where he was talking about his experience with roba (guy who tortured ghost) and ghosts father to a therapist. i think ghosts may be traumatized, but this doesn’t stop him from attempting to get help and communicating how he feels and thinks about this world.

ghost wears a mask... not because hes insecure and traumatized it's to separate ghost from simon riley. first of all he learned the consequences of revealing your identity during deployment, in the comic, he reveals his face in missions before his family got killed. i think he wears a mask because 1) its practical, no one knows who he is, 2) an analogy for himself to remind him simon riley, his original identity, was dead the moment his family was murdered, this SAS soldier with a skull mask is GHOST (yes this is canon, ghost references in the comic!).

in issue #1 while some kids were being held hostage, he starts telling his life story to them to calm them down/distract them from the bad situation. this is his explanation to why he wears a skull mask, word by word: "I bet you're wondering why I wear these bones on my face. It's a tribute to an old friend of mine. He's dead now, but man if he wasn't the baddest motherfucker on the planet."

in issue #6, when ghost was trekking through a jungle in the middle of nowhere attempting to kill roba (a drug lord that started this all, brainwashed soldiers to kill ghosts family), he was never caught. ghost himself, the narrator, says that "even for a single man to get through the jungle, the patrols, the wall, the security... well that man would have to be a ghost."

however, im still a little confused whether or not reboot ghost and 2009 have the same backstories. reboot ghosts mask is more realistic and his look is much more intimidating, his reason for wearing that kind of mask is probably psychological warfare (getting milena the financier to speak up about makarov). i think 2009 ghosts reason to wearing a mask is more personal compared to reboot.

BUT WHAT ABOUT AN S/O???

i think ghost is the guy to not have one in the first place. obviously. but i lowkey think if he had one and really liked them, he would commit. in fact i find it hard to imagine hes a player or isn’t serious about relationships. when his brother tommy got addicted to drugs and fucked up his life, simon quit the military until tommy got 100% better and married. yup. he stayed to help him recover, for years. thats how loving and committed this man is🥹🥹.

ghost would not cheat on his s/o. i can't stress how important this hc is, because it's so out of character for him to do so. sure, guys in the military statistically have higher divorce rates, incidences of infidelity, and much more red flag stuff, but knowing what happened to him, he would never do that. doesn't matter how stressed, lonely, sexually frustrated this man is; he would not cheat on his partner. this guy has been through far more stressful situations and got through it, you think hes gonna cheat because hes stressed because of work?

its not sunshine and rainbows or absolute toxicity being with him. it's not really a mix of both either. ghost isn't that princess treatment, super squishy and cuddly, sweet guy who likes fluffy stuff. he definitely isn't the toxic guy who leaves you with mixed signals either.

hes quite the gentleman when it comes to approaching relationships, hes seen how his dad treated his mom, and ghost wants to do the exact opposite. i believe ghost likes to use the traditional courting methods when dating someone: gifting flowers, paying for dates, holding the door open (ladies first typa guy!!), the old fashioned stuff. idk if i should point it out again but this guy DOES NOT FW modern dating practices, he wouldn't download dating apps, or start 'talking stages'. i dont think he would write love letters just because hes not very good at writing poetry or expressing his feelings in the first place.

theres still downsides to being with him. the long distance, the time being apart (months and months). but i dont think he'd go as far as being emotionally avoidant.

also something really random ive noticed is that 2009 and reboot ghost are very different, personality wise. i like to think that 2009 ghost represents simon riley much better, but the reboot ghost actually gives the essence and character of what a 'ghost' in the military is.

more random headcanons:

simon prefers dogs over cats because dogs are loyal and stay with you until the end (stereotypically)

hates snakes and spiders

probably wouldn’t do 50/50 on dates, he pays!

avoids saying manchester slang when deployed

drinks and smokes. not always. he’s disciplined but he still does that stuff.. hes a british guy in his 30s whos kinda depressed, grew up with adults around him smoking 24/7, whatd you think😀😀 (its canon that most of tf141 smoke anyway)

listens to 80’s rock music. its canon that his mom enjoys the band siouxsie and the banshees :)), he probs does too

shaves his beard

is actually confident hes not bad looking. dude, hes 6’2, in shape with a jawline🙄

i don't enjoy hcs of ghost being the scariest out of tf141 (appearance wise yes). but soap seems much more scary imo, he was the youngest guy to pass SAS selections in the history of the UK military, and was nicknamed soap because of fast and good he is at cleaning up 'messes' (basically killing people).

id arguably say ghost is the most compassionate out of 141, if we're talking about the OG 2009 one.

[avocad1s]

Note: This has been in my drafts for a while, so while I’m finishing Part Seven, I’ll post this.

Character Included: Zhongli, Venti, Ei, Tsaritsa, Xiao, Ganyu, Diluc, Ningguang, Childe, Scaramouche, Dottore

This is long so everyone else is utc! :>

As the Creator, suitors will seek to win your attention. Your inherent beauty is unparalleled, many could only imagine to be graced with your physical or verbal affections. So when word gets out that you want to be with someone romantically, everyone will jump at the opportunity.

If you pick one of the ARCHONS, no one in Teyvat would be surprised. It was obvious you valued them the most out of everyone in Teyvat, they had the strongest connection to you.

If you pick is Zhongli, that is when his identity as the former Geo Archon is officially revealed. Many were surprised to see that their Archon never died, and others questioned why he wanted to take a mortal form in the first place. However none of those things mattered when he was the one you held dear.

Liyue as a whole held a ton of pride it was their Archon you wanted to be with. That means you’ll want to stay in their nation permanently, no? For Zhongli, this is a moment he has waited millennia’s for. He always knew he was your most devoted, everything he’s done was for the betterment of Teyvat and you. When it comes to your relationship, He will do anything to make you happy. If it’s as small as getting you your own Serenitea Pot? Consider it done. If it’s something as major as becoming the Geo Archon again? He’ll do it in a heartbeat.

As much as he cares for you, Zhongli knows that you still have matters to attend to in the other nations. He would be glad to go with you if you wanted but he also has no problem staying in Liyue until you return. He’s waited this long and now that he has you, being apart for a little bit won’t hurt (at least that’s what he tells himself after you’re gone for two weeks).

-

Considered to be the weakest of the seven, Venti is ecstatic that he is the one you want to be with. He has a carefree and playful nature that bleeds into his nation naturally, but even if he doesn’t show his devotion as strongly as Zhongli, it’s still present.

He enjoys doing any activity with you, do you enjoy wine? Well let him take you to Diluc’s Tavern for the best wine you can drink. Naturally he always offers to pay, but unknown to you he’ll just put it on his never ending tab. (not that anyone would ever charge you for anything, you’re their God!). Do you enjoy his singing? He’s absolutely flattered! Let him sing you all the songs he knows, and eventually you’ll two will be able to perform duets of the songs you enjoy the most.

Just like in Liyue, Venti’s true identity will be revealed once your relationship is announced. Mondstadt will be overjoyed, not only has Lord Barbatos returned but he has secured the love of the Creator themselves. You should do expect lots of songs made about you two. You both will be a symbol of love in the nation of Freedom. Not only that, Mondstadt will plan many festivals throughout the year dedicated to the two of you. (Perhaps even a marriage?)

Just like his nation, Venti values freedom above all else. He would never want to hold you back from doing anything you love, so if you wish to visit other nations he has no problem with it. Of course there will be times he’d want to go with you, especially if the nation you’re going to is having some event in your name but Mondstadt is his home and that’s where he likes to stay. Don’t worry though, he will always be waiting for your return and he will have more songs to sing and stories to recite while you both relax in Windrise.

-

This could go one of two ways with Ei.

If you choose her during the vision hunt decree, it would solidify in her head that what she’s doing is right and that even her Creator supports it. She would be way more harsh in pursuing her view of eternity, the fight with the rebellious army would end quickly once the Shogun joins the battlefield. Now they aren’t just disrespecting her, they are disrespecting you. She will not allow that.

The citizens of Teyvat would be conflicted. Should they get rid of their visions? Do you not like them? Maybe you’ll show them they same value if they didn’t have them anymore. It would certainly be a mess for you to clean.

Also in this scenario leaving Inazuma would be… difficult. Ei doesn’t understand why you want to leave, what can those nations offer you that she can’t. She’s doing this all for you and her sister, can’t you see that?

Now if you choose her after the Traveler’s involvement in Inazuma, she would be different. Now she’s trying to find another way to pursue eternity and having you there to support and help her definitely makes her feel better about the situation. She wants to have a better relationship with her nation but she doesn’t know how to go about that, but everyone adores you so being with you should help! At least she hopes.

On the rare occasion she decides to walk around Inazuma city she would be happy if you go with her. She can be a bit awkward at times since she doesn’t believe she should indulge herself but if you tell her she can have all the dango and dango milk she desires she’ll come around to the idea. Especially if you’re indulging with her.

-

“Oh… You’re picking the Tsaritsa? Oh no! There’s no problem with that, you can pick whoever you like Your Grace.”

That is a line you’d hear all the time after announcing your affections for the ice queen. Not many people can think of Snezhnaya without thinking of the Fatui and all of the… things they’ve done in each nation.

Although to the rest of the world, the groups motives are unknown it must be something you support if you harbor affection for the founder of the Fatui, right?

No matter, even if people would have their objections to the union, no one would dare say anything. The Fatui’s power would only grow stronger, many would believe that going against them now means that they go against you. (They might even use that to their advantage)

The Tsaritsa cares deeply for you. As if you are a flame, her cold persona melts immediately when she’s in the presence of you. She’d do absolutely anything for you, and I mean anything. She’s already forsaken her relationships with her fellow Archons so if you make any requests about your distaste of other nations she will waste no time taking care of it.

Unlike the other Archons, she’s is open to killing for you, even if she doesn’t do it herself, she has a lot of powerful people who can take care of it for her.

When it comes to you leaving the nation, she’ll be reluctant. Snezhnaya has everything you need, why would you want to go anywhere else? Are you cold? She can easily get you some warmer clothes or warm you up herself. She’ll come up with any excuse to keep you to here. Don’t get it wrong though, she still has lots of respect for you and your word is still law. If you stay stubborn about leaving the snowy nation, she’ll give up and let you leave. But she will always have an eye on you so don’t worry :)

-

If you pick one of the ADEPTI Liyue feels honored, you may not have feelings for their Archon but the Adepti are the next best thing, right? The rest of Teyvat are a bit confused, what’s so special about these illuminated beasts that caught your attention?

The tactful Ganyu is conflicted if she can only pick one of her two lives. Humanity or the Adepti. Is she capable of doing both? She’ll try her hardest, her contract with Rex Lapis and her position as the secretary to the Liyue Qixing makes her schedule impossibly full. However she will always make time for you.

You mean everything to her, when she fought in the Archon War by Rex Lapis’ side it was for you. Being with you is a dream come true, it was something she always fantasized about. Although she never thought she’d actually catch your eye.

Anytime you’re in Liyue she’ll attach herself to your side catering to your every need. For once she doesn’t mind putting off her work if it means she can spend more time with you. She’ll take you to best places to eat in Liyue, bring you to drink tea with the rest of the Adepti, and if you wish to watch her spar with the Conquerors Of Demons. Well don’t blame her is she shows off a bit.

Once your stay in Liyue comes to an end, Ganyu will drown herself in her work. She has so much catching up to do and even though she regrets it now, she knows she’ll do it again once you come back to her.

-

Oh Xiao… he believes he doesn’t deserves the value you give him. As much as he cares and loves you, he came to terms that he’d only watch you from afar. He will protect Liyue for you so you can enjoy the greatest things this world has to offer. So why? He wants to ask. All of the blood he has shed over the centuries, how can you feel this way about him?

It’s obvious that Xiao has a good amount of self- depreciation, he feels as if he has to push everyone he cares about away. All of his fellow Yaksha has fallen and Xiao doesn’t want to drag anyone down with him.

Yet staying away from you is hard for him, when all you want is to be with him how can he refuse a request from his God? He fears that getting to close to you would makes his worst nightmare come true, but eating Almond Tofu with you won’t hurt anything… and maybe looking at the stars on top of Wangshuu Inn?

You are a double edged sword for Xiao, being with you makes him fear you may get hurt. However when you two are apart, he feels his karmic debt downing him.

But if you don’t show affections for him until after his time in the Chasm with Yelan and the others, he would be drastically different. He now realizes that his life, like everyone else’s, has meaning. He doesn’t have to push the ones he cares for away and he doesn’t have to constantly sacrifice himself for others.

In this instance Xiao would try way harder when it comes to being with you, he doesn’t know much about relationships or any type of customs that comes with it, but he will try for you. He doesn’t want to disappoint.

-

So it’s not the Archons nor the Adepti you desire? Well that’s completely fine! There are many other influential people that live in Teyvat. Some might even call them the LEADERS of the nation they reside in. Or maybe they are just very dependable and have gained everyone’s trust and respect.

Oh so it’s Master Diluc that you desire? Well no one in Mondstadt can blame you. He is the most desired bachelor in the nation of freedom after all. Although many are disappointed that they won’t have a chance with the tavern owner anymore, they also can’t help but feel a bit relieved that it’s you he’s with.

And my oh my, Diluc is just as surprised that you want him too, but it’s a welcome surprise. After his father died and his relationship with his brother became… strained you were all he had left. He would pray to you daily about his wine business, his tavern, or even his secret identity as the Darknight Hero.

Once you descend, his devotion to you becomes stronger.

He doesn’t trust the Knights with your safety, we all know he believes they are incompetent so once you step into Mondstadt, expect Diluc to basically be glued to your side. You want anything from the shops? Let him buy it! He has more than enough Mora to buy anything you desire. Do you want some wine? Please allow him to escort you to Dawn Winery for the finest wine he has.

Speaking of Dawn Winery, Diluc would prefer if you’d stay there. The Fatui bought out the nicest inn Mondstadt has to offer, and even though they explicitly stated they had no problem with their Crestor staying there, Diluc doesn’t want you to. He has a big issue with the Fatui and as long as you are in Mondstadt, they have no chance getting near you.

Diluc doesn’t mind when you depart Mondstadt, he knows how busy you are and he has important work to get done himself. Unless you are leaving for Snezhnaya, he will try to convince you to go somewhere else. If that doesn’t work, he will worry constantly worry about your safety in the claws of the Fatui. His prayers to you would increase until you’re back in his arms again.

-

There is no such thing as a secret in Liyue, so when you show affections Ningguang. Everyone in Liyue will find out fast. Not much is known about Ningguang and all of the things she does for Liyue, people will scramble to catch even a spec of knowledge that falls from the Jade Chamber.

But one thing everyone knows about the woman is how much she loves you. Before you descended, her daily routine would consist of praying to you as soon as she wakes, working, and praying again before she lays to rest. When Liyue throws celebrations in your name, she would give you the most lavish offerings. Not one person in Teyvat would be able to match anything she gives you.

Anytime you’re in Liyue she will force insist that you stay in her home. Have you seen a better place in Teyvat? She doubts it! Don’t forget about the amazing view she has up there too. Ningguang will also handle all of the expenses for anything you desire, she’s arguably the richest woman in Teyvat there is not one thing you’d want that would be out of her budget. If her God wants it, you will have it

She’d treat you to the most luxurious meals you will ever have, making sure everything is adjusted to your tastes. Even if the spices you like don’t originate from Liyue, she will send people to go get whatever you need. All that matters to her is to see you happy.

-

Erm, Your Grace? The one you desire is a FATUI HARBINGER? You should stay away from the likes of them. They have no good intentions, all they do is exploit innocent people and gain power over the other nations. The Fatui has no respect for…

There are only four things Childe cares for, his family, the Tsaritsa, fighting, and you. As he grew up, his family told him how amazing you were and all he dreamed about was meeting you face to face, and when he became a Fatui Harbinger he knew that would be possible.

However he got more than he would’ve ever imagined. He got to call you his.

Childe has no issue killing anyone for you, if anyone goes against you, he will take care of it.

Unlike anyone before, Childe will want to go everywhere with you, he’s already a Harbinger so he’s used to traveling to all of the nations and not only that, he has the money to go anywhere too (thank Pantalone for that smh)

He will rub this in the faces of his comrades, he’s the youngest Harbinger, the lowest ranked but he still managed to snag your attention? Yeah, they’re not living this down.

When it’s just the two of you though he’s soft, he’d love for you to meet his family. They mean so much to him just like you do, to have you all in the same room would make him so happy.

-

Where should I start with the Balladeer? He‘s a puppet and doesn’t have a heart, but these feeling he has for you is strong.

At first he tries to push you away, his… mother cares so much for you and as he tries to distance himself from her, he thought that meant he had to hate you. But he couldn’t…

As he tried to find meaning within himself, everyone kept telling him to turn to you. Even his own friend that tragically died had told him that your divine light would guide him in the right direction. He didn’t want to listen.

Once he had joined the Fatui he figured he wouldn’t hear about you again, but oh boy was he wrong. He hadn’t met anyone more devoted to you than this group, everything they do is for you. All of the killing, exploiting, experimenting, and lying was done in your name and honor.

Scaramouche needed something to latch on to, his mother thought he was useless, and unbeknownst to him at the time, his attachment to the Fatui was a complete lie.

He will try to be useful in any way he can. The Fatui wouldn’t matter to him anymore, getting his hands on the Electro Gnosis doesn’t matter, all that matters is what you want.

With you around, he finally has something to fill his heart with, he will do anything and everything not to upset you. The last thing he wants is for you to throw him away like everyone else.

-

So it’s the Doctor that you want? Can’t say that I blame you…

On the surface, it would seem that Dottore doesn’t worship you. He won’t deny your existence if asked but if he’s asked if he worships you, he’s closed off about it.

Even in his days in the Akademiya he would always pray to you for luck before his studies or exams (not that he needed it). When he was interested in ancient machines and wanted to know more, he would pray to you for a breakthrough to prove to the Akademiya scholars and sages that this is what they should be studying. However he was chased out before that could happen.

He didn’t blame you for it, in fact, leaving Sumeru had given him a better opportunity, the Fatui. They actually funded any experiment he desired, whether it was about the ancient machines, the Archons, or the secrets of Teyvat, he would know it all.

However once you arrived, you took all his attention.

It’s not that he wanted to experiment on your per say, it’s just… he wanted to know more about you! You’re the God of Gods, you have power people on Teyvat could only imagine having. Being able to take a closer look at you would mean everything.

Once the two of you become close, Sumeru are the first to regret it, the one you favor is someone they had thrown out of their nation not just once, but twice. They feel absolutely foolish.

Since you’re a God, Dottore definitely believes your have greater intelligence than the God of Wisdom herself and he would love to “poke at your brain” if you allow him, he would ask you questions about wherever you were before coming to Teyvat and how Teyvat was many centuries ago.

If this is before his time in Sumeru and creating his own God, he would still have his Segments from previous times in his life. Yeah… they’re all devoted to you too. So if you like Dottore, that means them too right?

I think it’s clear that he and his Segments do not get along, they’d all be fighting for your attention lmao (obviously he wins all the time) but if Dottore is too busy with his Harbinger duties he doesn’t mind if you want to spend time with them. It’s better than you running to someone else for attention.

Note: I am also working on a masterlist atm so that should be out once part seven comes out! 🫡

© avocad1s please do not plagiarize or post to any other website

[im-not-a-ghost]

Their current feelings for you

Group 1 - Jeanne

45. Spiral of abundance , 23. Inner Jewel, 31. Inner Equinox, Loyal dog, Newborn Butterfly, Smart Walrus, Forest song "My kindness is a gift I bestow upon the world."

This person really feels the most at peace and safe when they are with you. You bring out their inner child and generate a lot of happiness in their life. They really value and treasure your presence but they are also aware that their happiness shouldn't solely depend on you. This person is choosing to trust you despite their fears and share with you their most vulnerable sides, their kindness and generosity, not only out of loyalty but also because they believe that it would be beneficial on the long term. Their feelings for you are pure, they are only filled with good intentions because this person knows what it's like not to receive love and feel like people cannot accept you for who you are. Even though you may trigger this person sometimes through your words or actions, they would rather try to deal with it on their own without you knowing or trying to talk it out in a healthy manner rather than lashing out on you. This person wants to protect you and nurture you, to guide you but they also feel a bit guarded because they are not used to the dynamic of your connection. This person may struggle with receiving compliments or random acts of kindness. They may be used to having to work hard for attention or to receive help from others. They may be used to people unfairly treating them. However, you do quite the opposite. Through your interactions their wounded inner child is allowed to heal and show its true self without fear. Which can both be pretty exciting and scary at the same time. You may sometimes feel like this person isn't truly reciprocating your feelings or not being sincere. The truth is they need a lot of time to open up about their feelings and show people their love. If you are able to provide them the time and space to do so, by encouraging this person and paying attention to what makes them uncomfortable, respecting their boundaries, which I feel you already do to some extent, this person will slowly but surely let you know how much you mean to them. Honestly this energy is very sweet and peaceful, it was such a lovely reading to do. I feel called to mention that one of the reasons why this person loves you so much is because of your "disinterested" actions. Let me explain with a few examples. Maybe in the past, this person only received compliments from people when they wanted something out of them. So these compliments weren't genuine. However, you compliment them because you want to and feel like it. That kind of things. I feel like this really changed this person's views of connections.

Group 2 - Luca

"When I lead from a place of love, people respect me." 34. Creativity storm, 46. Energyfall 36. Fire of transformation, Loyal Llama, Guardian Bear, Tranquil Sloth, Silent Watcher

You intimidate this person a little but more than anything they feel inspired by you and energized in your presence. You give them a lot of strength and courage to deal with their daily life and challenges. You motivate them to be a better person. They may observe you from afar to learn from you but also out of shyness because they find you very attractive and they can't help their reactions when they're around you, if you get my drift. This energy is quite similar to group 1 in the sense that they also seem to be feeling at peace when you're around, as if all their problems melted away. They find a new sense of confidence because of your support, your guidance, your kindness. This may be something they actively voice out. I feel like this person has already mentioned in front of you that they felt driven to do their best because of your trust and faith in them. They consider you a vital part of their support system. But they also are very fond of you and I feel like they view you as more than a friend, though they may not express it. They get protective over you quite easily which is something they may hide behind nonchalence. Like, they may give you a whole meal to ensure you've eaten enough because they know you're feeling unwell and reply with "I bought this by mistake and I thought maybe you'd like it" or something like that. They find excuses to do things for you while trying to do them undercover. But they may not be very subtle about it sometimes. But maybe because this is something you're not used to, you may think that you're imagining things. Well, this is your confirmation that you're not crazy. I feel like for most of you this connection is quite recent. So you may be in the early stages of a relationship or just secretly crushing on one another because you both are shy koalas.

Group 3 - Chloe

"My happiness is a direct reflection of how quickly I can shift my perceptions from fear to love." 17. Spark of gratitude, 12. Emotional storm, 15. Dance of the elements, Wise Owl - Wisdom Perception Discipline , Newborn Butterfly - Renewal Transformation Adaptability, Cute Penguin - Whismy Community Loyalty, Bird

This person chooses to see you under your best light, regardless of your shadows and past "mistakes", regardless of their own fears and shadows. More than anything, they feel incredibly happy and grateful for your presence in their life. You take them off guard and make them feel giddy, like a teen that would love for the first time. They can't help but to love you for who you are and want to be close to you. They feel so warm and fuzzy whenever you're around. Their thoughts of you are pretty positive and innocent. They just admire you and are in awe with your personality and looks. They wish to see through you and know what you think of them. This connection is fairly new to them. They've never felt this way before. They are not used to such happiness and soft feelings. I feel like this person has been through a lot in their life and they're not used to surrendering control or letting themselves be vulnerable in front of others. But with you, they feel like a child again and everything feels like an adventure. They can appreciate life again because of you and that is something that is incredibly precious to them. Ever since they met you, they start to see life from a brighter perspective and become more of a "the glass is half full" type of person. They can truly have fun and relaxed because they feel more confident in your presence. You make them feel safe, heard and seen. They don't have to try as hard when you're around because you accept them for who they are. I really like this spread because it's just so pure and soothing. It's like in their eyes there isn't a single thing about you that is wrong or that should be changed. They love you unconditionally.

[tealvenetianmask]

Stolas Makes Decisions Alone

I'm here to predict more problems ahead for Stolas. But don't worry- I do think he'll get through them because of character growth.

Stolas has a pattern of taking drastic actions that he believes are right and getting so caught up in his own point of view that he doesn't really listen to anyone else. I don't think he realizes this about himself. As much as he's now dealing with the consequences of his decisions at the end of Season 2, he hasn't yet learned that he can't go it alone. That he needs to communicate with the people his decisions impact- namely Blitz and Octavia, the people he cares for most. What I'm saying is, even though he's not the only one, our lovely owl man is a misunderstanding factory.

As for why he's like this, I have some ideas, but first, let's quickly go over the ways we've seen this behavior play out in HB.

It's treated as kind of light in Season 1 . . . despite being great with words, he's a lousy communicator because he gets carried away with his own ideas.

In Murder Family, Stolas has no idea that Blitz is panicking and . . . yes, I believe feeling pressured in this moment, even if he likes the deal later. In Loo Loo Land, he doesn't pay attention to Octavia's (not subtle) reactions enough to realize that no, she does not want to go to Loo Loo, and she absolutely doesn't want to bring the person Stolas cheated with along as a bodyguard. Also . . . as soon as Stolas listens to Octavia here, their communication improves, and Octavia is allowed to decide on the next father daughter activity.

The independent decision making tendency becomes more serious . . . tragic . . . in The Full Moon.

Stolas goes into the episode with a plan to do what he believes is right (freeing Blitz from himself), and he's so set on it that he blindsides the guy and shuts him out at the first hint of rejection, unable to pay enough attention to realize that it's . . . not actually rejection, just another wounded person reacting to a sudden change, since the entire decision making process already happened inside Stolas's mind.

Okay . . . Mastermind and Sinsmas.

I'm letting him off the hook for Mastermind, because he had only seconds to do something to save Blitz's life. I don't think he's wrong here. BUT symbolically, in the courtroom, Stolas rarely looks at Blitz. Someone who loves him is standing behind him, and there are moments of recognition between them, but Stolas still faces the decision, and his fate, alone.

In Sinsmas, we get the most blatant version of this kind of decision making. Yes, I know he's off his meds and going through a lot. He could have waited a few more minutes for Blitz to get back and talked through his decision to march up to his palace and demand to see his daughter. Blitz could have helped him calm down, and they could've had a conversation and decided on the best way to do it.

But that isn't how Stolas makes decisions. It isn't how he's EVER made decisions. Helping Stolas would put Blitz in danger, or Blitz might try to convince him to wait. So in Stolas's mind, if it's a choice between being kept from his daughter and dying alone by Andrealphus's hand, well . . .

There's so much that could be discussed here. Medication/depression. Suicidality. Autism . . . does this pattern stem in part from difficulty reading social cues?

These are all topics worth analyzing but . . . here's one thing that I think is at the core of Stolas's character regardless of the situation or other factors.

Stolas had all of his decisions made for him for his entire life. No one consulted him. Ever. Not about his career. Not about his marriage. Not about how he would choose to behave and conduct himself in the world.

Then when he was somewhere between 18 and 20, he had a child. And suddenly, his decisions mattered. Not in the big ways for himself. He still had to carry out all of his responsibilities. But he could decide how to raise this kid (Stella wasn't really interested in raising her after all). He could do everything in his power to make her childhood joyful, to make her feel loved, to teach her that she could be herself.

The problem is, making decisions for a kid doesn't make you a great collaborative decision maker. Being a parent means being an authority. He wasn't totalitarian like his own father, but there wasn't really anyone to honestly talk through his decisions and process his emotions with. So he's spent 35ish years never making a decision with someone else.

He's also rich and powerful, and that both keeps him isolated and gives him . . . a somewhat outsized view of his own importance and ability to control situations, in my opinion.

But now Octavia is 17, and making decisions that impact her without adequately communicating doesn't really work anymore.

And the other person he loves is Blitz. And yes, Mastermind is an exception, but Blitz usually doesn't need to be rescued or protected. He certainly doesn't need to be protected from Stolas (i.e. The Full Moon). He needs a partner. And Stolas needs one too.

So yeah, until Stolas learns to communicate (or at least learns that it's necessary) I worry about what he'll go off and do on his own.

Note: please don't take this as me blaming EVERYTHING on Stolas. Blitz and Octavia both have some responsibility for the miscommunications that go on. I just think this particular tendency of Stolas's is interesting and wanted to explore it.

[pali-and-proud]

My finals ended yesterday and I ended up sleeping for 11 hours. I can think again.

I want to take a moment to just talk about perspectives. How Buddy percieves Chase, how Chase percieves Buddy, and how Deacon percieves both.

Buddy's POV of Chase is so beautiful to me because Chase is just such an enigma to him. He's so quick to bicker and insult, and he routinely says the most ridiculous and outlandish things that Buddy can't even respond to, and then he turns around and is so selflessly caring and kind and considerate that it nearly always takes Buddy off-guard. Buddy knows the more about Chase than vice versa, and yet Buddy never seems able to expect what Chase is going to do.

I could be wrong, actually, but I think almost all of their conversations end with or include Buddy being confused by something Chase said, or something Chase did. And Chase is doing it all with a shirt, guys.

Chase's POV of Buddy is nearly the exact opposite. Chase knows NOTHING about Buddy, outside of phobias and fashionware, and Deacon's the one who has to remind him about that. Chase is good at reading people; we already knew that. Chase is GREAT at reading Buddy.

He's aware of Buddy's need for attention. He's aware of Buddy's barbs--knows when Buddy's being mean, and when Buddy's trying to be nice. He's aware that Buddy's situation is concerning enough to warrant outside help, and that Buddy won't ask for it. Buddy isn't really a mystery to him--the only real question is how to get Buddy to trust him. Which is insane, really, since we've seen in the current arc (vampire) that Buddy did genuinely trust Chase.

(I could go so far as to say the only part of Buddy that Chase doesn't easily/accurately understand is how CHASE fits into Buddy's life, but I will digress)

Deacon, though? Ohhhh, Deacon. Deacon's role is SO much more important than I think people give it credit for. Deacon is the only way we get a true outsider's glimpse into Chase (he tells us about Chase's money problems, he explains why Chase loves new stuff, he reminds us that Chase's dream to be a singer/dancer/idol isn't realistic and that Chase logically knows that, and he breaks down some of Chase's quirks.)

Deacon is also, uh, how we see Buddy respond to someone he doesn't have an embarrassingly obvious crush on. It's so easy to forget that Buddy is actively trying to treat Chase better until you see Buddy interact with Deacon for two seconds, in which Buddy's managed to be both smug and/or jealous. Yes I haven't forgotten that Buddy is jealous of Chase's cousin. Yes I do think thats the funniest reoccuring joke.

So Deacon having a really good view of both characters--where he can trust Chase's judgement while also being the logic that Chase sometimes forgoes AND can be cautious of Buddy due to past actions while also understanding that Buddy is more complicated than initial assumptions--it's important because it helps ground the characters.

And in direct contrast: Buddy's dislike of Deacon is completely rooted in his terrible understanding of Deacon's role to Chase. Buddy's first conversation with Deacon is him telling Deacon he should stop doing the stories because he's in over his head, despite Deacon having prepared more than Chase ever did. Buddy continues to yell and berate Deacon for his choice in book, despite Deacon actively choosing books he/Chase would enjoy, which is what you (according to Buddy, at least, and my inferences) should ideally do.

Chase's POV of Deacon is a bit more convoluted, and this post is already pretty long; I don't know if anyone's actually reading all this. He's just such a younger cousin; he doesn't idolize Deacon, but he does expect Deacon to have the answers. They're such older/younger brother coded. From the beginning, Chase has wanted to hang out with Deacon. It's almost tragic, honestly, that Deacon has such a high opinion of Chase that he never really shares, while Chase shows his high opinion of Deacon so often that a completely separate person was able to get jealous.

I took my psych final yesterday. Surely this is what my professors would want me to use my knowledge on.

[vitaminseetarot]

Pick a Card: Winter Blessings On Their Way to You

Hey y'all, welcome back for another pick a card reading. This pac's gonna be about any general blessings you'll receive over the next few months. For those who celebrate holidays, this may tie in to how you will be faring this season, but for any one reading, this will be a positive overview of what you may be gifted with over winter.

I've decided to go with images from pixabay as having the selection at the top seems to be the more mobile-friendly option. Choose any one of the four images above or pile numbers below:

Pile 1 - Frost ❄ Pile 2 - Gift 🎁 Pile 3 - Tree 🎄 Pile 4 - Orange 🍊

Pile 1 - Frost ❄

2 of Cups, King of Swords; Moon in Pisces - Empathy, A New Day, Land:Animal:Star, Mine (Earth, Jupiter)

Hey there, pile 1. Your gift will soon come in the form of experiencing deepened social connections this season. You will receive guidance and understanding regarding a close relationship you already have in your life. There may be a form of reconciliation or forgiveness given to you for any miscommunication or mistake in the past. I'm hearing that it's mainly the lack of communication for this pile where things can be resolved over the winter. Someone may have taken their time in reaching back to you for one reason or another but will be more available in the next three months.

This person could be an air sign dominant (Gemini, Libra, Aquarius), a person connected to education in some way, or a decisive, intellectual person in general. They may be a great conversationalist who is knowledgeable on topics that are relevant to you; talking to them may feel stimulating. One thing that I'm picking up is that, though this person may put on an air of maturity and wisdom, it's important to note that they are human and have to learn important lessons about relationships like everyone else. They're going through a humbling period of realizing that they do not connect to others as much as they would like to, which may trigger them to contact you to open back up. If they do, it's because they have some level of trust in you even if things have been sour in the past. I'm not detecting anything bitter or deceitful about this communication, but they may be in a remorseful state anyway as they may be undergoing a shadow work process of looking at themselves from a higher perspective and realigning with their true visions. It's up to you if their remorse is genuine or misplaced; if it's genuine and you care for them, then they could use a little reassurance that they can still be a good friend. If it's misplaced, that is to say you don't think they really did anything wrong, make sure to let them know that you forgive them and you care for them. If this is a toxic situation, you may decide to not let this person back into your life despite how they feel, which may prove for some to be the best choice, but in any case there will be a sense of resolution, fairness, and peace of mind. It will be different for everybody.

There is a possibility that, if this resonates with you personally more than it does with anyone else in your life, then part of your gift is getting a chance at a do-over with a close friend, colleague, or partner of yours, and you may be on the verge of adding more extroversion in your life by doing more enjoyable social activities. Another take with this pile is that, if you're involved in school, there could be a special message you receive from the school. If you're trying to apply for something or resolve an issue, someone who is of expertise in that area will reach out over the next few months. If you've been doubtful about a relationship, this season will help you gain more clarity about the next steps to pave. This holiday is looking to be cozy and centered on sharing it with those you care about, including pets.

P.S. From Santa: if you feel tempted to wake up around midnight to peek under the tree, don't! Try to avoid catching glimpses or begging to know what you're getting. Someone may have left a surprise for you to check in the morning, and they wanna see your face light up with what you got.

Pile 2 - Gift 🎁

9 of Cups, Queen of Cups; Jupiter in Cancer - Speculation, Candle Magic, Land:Mountain:Moon, Grace (Water, Neptune)

Hello, pile 2, I see your biggest gift is gonna be like a spa day away from all the hustle and bustle. I sense it's long overdue here! This winter season is gonna be all about catching up on some much needed R&R and sleep. This is definitely the pile for those who relate to being the "parent friend" of their social group, or of generally being the busy supportive person in others' lives, who are getting the impulse to retreat inside for hibernation. With all the usual chaos of the holiday season, I don't blame you for wanting some tranquility. You may identify with being empathic or highly sensitive to noisy or crowded output. In spite of a tendency towards introversion, I see this is a group that really likes to stay productive and creative, but it looks like taking time away will restore a lot of creative flow back in to what you do. There's an abundance of water in your cards, suggesting a need for cleansing and adaptability. You may find it easier to take time off in spurts rather than a long period away, but it's up to what you feel is more necessary. This isn't just regular spa day in the sense of literal cleansing, though you may feel more inclined to take long warm baths and clean out drawers of old unwanted clothes over the next few months. This is also about emotional healing, taking time to process old feelings and reflect over the past year. There is a need for comfort in between, I'm feeling plush robes and tasting marshmallow rich hot cocoa by the fire here. Tap into your more sensual and receptive side, allow yourself to do a hobby in bed for a day if it's easier than doing it at the desk.

This is also a season for receiving some nice things you've been really wishing for, but be sure to express your desires! The gifts you get may be really satisfying for you, but you will need to own up to what you want and avoid being too bashful. If there's something you're eyeing on this holiday season, make a note to write it down or add it to a wishlist. If you get involved with an exchange program, you can be honest with what you like while also being reasonable. Also, I want to remind you that there's nothing wrong with getting yourself a few gifts if you're really more comfortable with getting them for yourself. It's better than waiting and hoping for someone to get you a cool thing you're too shy to ask for only to not get it. Set an intention and inform others out loud, instead of getting caught in mixed signals, because you deserve to get many good things this winter! If you have any time off you've been meaning to take, I would find some time in the winter to schedule a "nothing" day with no busy plans or to-do lists, so you can prioritize self care.

I'm getting that many of you will want to stay home for vacation, or that you'll want to be at home more often, in your safe zone. Even though many of you will focus more on relaxing, some of you may get the urge to decorate in a way that speaks to you. There may be some creative inspiration in the form of making something that fits the season like weaving frosty wreaths or crocheting cozy sweaters. An aesthetic could be drawing your eye, which is confirmation that your creative juices are flowing again. Gently express yourself in art when it calls you, without feeling pressured to finish or mass-produce anything. Create in a carefree way that inspires and heals you.

P.S. From Santa: A single lantern in the dark is as profound as a thousand dazzling lights in the streets. Try not to overburden yourself with the perfect set up of decorations this holiday season. Even when preparing the house, it's the thought that counts.

Pile 3 - Tree 🎄

0 Fool, XIX Sun; Venus in Leo - Affair, Go Your Own Way, Sky:Rainbow:Star, Tear (Air, Gemini)

Wow, pile 3, right off the bat I have to say I'm almost jaw-dropped at how bright and festive your pile is! This is definitely the group that loves the holidays the most, if that doesn't resonate with you then you may find another group more relatable, or it could be that you're more in the mood for holiday occasions than usual. The joy in these cards is palpable and near infectious, it's giving even some of my grinchy mannerisms a second glance. So yes, I would say this is your biggest gift over the winter season. You may be smiling for many reasons, maybe even crying with joy with the Tear card here, and I see the biggest reason is in where you'll be and who you'll be with.

You will have opportunities to venture out and explore new things to do. You could be invited to a festive lights display, or a fireworks show around the New Year. There could be a concert over the winter, or a new date could talk you into trying ice skating at the local rink. Some of you may be tempted to actually go to NYC for New Years, and if so, good luck! Please stay warm and hydrated, the ball dropping and singing carols through your town are a major endurance test in the cold if you decide to go to any of those. But if the idea of doing something like that simply lights you up like a festive tree, you may be more tempted to go for it this season. Many things in your cards talk about direction and forging your own path, so part of your gift may involve feeling a bit more independence and expansion. When we travel and visit new places, our self learns to grow and expand to meet it over time. It's nerve wracking because we're not used to it, but eventually we adjust and learn to adapt. I see that happening for you more these next few months. I would advise this pile to try going out and trying a few different and interesting things, for those who don't want to jump in the cold, there are online communities waiting for you to join. Some social media groups, for example, have a Secret Santa type of thing set up that you could sign up for, or a Discord chat could be hosting movie nights that you've considered joining. This is your confirmation to give it a go!

Tears of joy may also have to do with gifts you're given this year. There may have been something left on your wishlist for a while and this season you may actually receive it. You could also be given something that just "fits the ticket", like it may not have even been on your wishlist or even what you could think to wish for, but somehow you get it anyway. The gift may come at a convenient time. It may be something related to your life purpose even? Or it may help you with your life path and future goals. You may enjoy gift exchanges with a dear loved one, as seeing their reaction of pure joy may turn out to be a present for you too. Happy holidays, pile 3!

P.S. From Santa: The sleigh flies like the sun and moon in the sky, spreading cheer in all directions. Happiness can be found where you are, and it can also be outside your comfort zone. Look at what surrounds you for the true presents in store.

Pile 4 - Orange 🍊

VIII Strength, 3 of Pentacles, Saturn in Gemini - Concentration, Celebrate Your Wins, Water:Spring:Moon, Sunflower (Earth, Venus)

Surprise, pile 4, you have actually chosen the same pile that I chose when doing this reading. The significance of mentioning this is that I just passed a difficult test that took forever to figure out. And I originally laid out these cards, called it my 'Orange' pile, and chose this group the night before the test, knowing this was predicting some kind of win but waiting until after to confirm it here. And boy did they confirm! So your major blessing on your way is that you will succeed in a goal that you've been working very hard on for a good period of time. What was once a challenge can become a success here. For many of you this will have been in something that has required a lot of work and dedication. Passing this won't necessarily be effortless, but it will be easier than the last time. You will still need to put in some effort to make it work, but this pile has more than certainly put their dues in by now, even if things aren't perfect. After spending a good amount of time learning and tracing all the steps, you've developed the fortitude and strength to push through to the finish line. And getting to that line will feel like the joy of a kid waking up on Christmas morning to a mountain of gifts. If you struggle with the sense of feeling accomplished, this is the time to reward yourself.

I see for most in this group, this accomplish is related to something in the material or external realm. So it could be passing an important test, getting a portfolio approved in review, or a burst of health after a long period of stress. There's an energy of blooming here, with the Sunflower card atop the daisies in the Strength card and the crocus. These flowers, together, signify not only growth, but a sense of rebirth and regeneration. The crocus appears in the spring and fall, while the daisy blooms from spring to summer. So this is spiritual and physical healing. Even sunflowers can last until mid autumn. So this is a long-lasting rejuvenation, or an accomplishment with long term benefits. It will be a big confidence boost that may spur a positive feedback loop in future goals. Take pride in yourself!

You've probably succeeded far past where you think yourself to be. There's no need here to be hard on yourself, even if the victory doesn't come in the shape you expect it would. Treat your past year's self with kindness, as not all progress is visible to the naked eye. Achievements of the soul aren't always notified like in Xbox, or given a certificate or medal to hang on the wall. Maybe it could even be hard to write down exactly what went right this year, but have trust that you've grown so much in these past twelve months and that the next season will be like a domino effect showing you how far you've come! The 3 of Pentacles is Capricorn energy, so you may start to see this after the holidays have passed, but know either way that your first step is just the first step in a long road to victory! I'm sending congratulations to y'all, pile 4, and patting your inner lion on the back because I know you have it in you to succeed in your trials no matter how long it takes. You have transformed in time for the new year!

P.S From Santa: Be ready to catch falling stars as you wish upon them, the seed least unexpected can bloom even in the coldest time of year. Staying on the Nice list will come with its many rewards.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

Dating Yandere Aventurine hc's

Obviously tw for toxic relationship dynamic and so on, but it's really mostly fluff tbh

It's not the moment that he lays eyes on you, nor the first time he hears your lovely voice, that sparks his interest

It's later, after a few interactions, that he's left wondering why exactly do your eyes look like that in the sunlight, why can't he help thinking about the last words you said to him, and why on earth does he want to remember how your palms feel against his...

It's annoying, a stupid little weakness that's he's really hoping fizzles out with the rest of his long lost desires

It's even more annoying when it doesn't...

He wants to be around you, to see you happy and content... Wants to be the one that causes that

He tries to appease his little crush in subtle ways

Buying you gifts, taking you out, reluctantly opening up, all hoping for a reaction that would kill that desire, just any emotion that would convince him you weren't the perfect person he's built you up to be

All for not... Every little reaction just grows his want, multiplies his need to have more of you

After fully coming to terms with that, he'll try courting you casually, playing up his charm, his nonchalance

As if his emotionally distant performance can cover the fact that he's only getting more desperate

He's lying to himself, trying to convince his own heart that he doesn't need you

That he doesn't spend every waking second imagining you right beside him, all the pretty expressions you'd make and amusing remarks that'd pull a genuine smile from his lips

It's a coping mechanism, but a poor one in comparison with really have you there

And why can't you be there...?

Texting becomes much more common

Various pictures and paragraphs meticulously detailing where he is and what he's doing, in the hopes that you might choose to show up of your own accord

Silly little good morning or good night texts played off as a joke, as if he isn't anxiously awaiting confirmation that you're still happy and well

He's always been good at reading people, a skill of his trade really, so your emotions are like an open book

Anyone you want him to be, he'll play the part flawlessly

A rich flirty playboy? An impulsive and fearless gambler? Maybe a doting attentive lover? All of those are masks he will happily adorn

You'll know something's up when the gift giving starts to get a little heavy handed

Gorgeous expensive bouquets with his calling card, very pretty jewelry (most of which includes a familiar looking green gemstone), and really a variety of other small gifts that fit in line with interests you told him about in passing

He'll claim complete ignorance to the amount, stating he's only buying what reminds him of you (which is pretty much every little thing he sees—)

And "Oh don't worry, dear friend. Consider it a token of good will! Can't have you forgetting about me.~"

He'll make himself quite a nuisance if you don't eventually give in to his little games

Though his work schedule keeps him from actively stalking you, it's not uncommon for suspicious looking IPC personal to be seen whenever you're out in public

He's just paranoid, really, that's all it is...

He couldn't live with himself if his darling went and got themself hurt

When officially together, you're probably going to spend a lot of time with him...

He'll make his office more accommodating for you! You can decorate your space however you desire, nothing is too good for his love

It generally helps his morale to have you around at work too

He's not nearly as stressed and short tempered with his beautiful perfect love always at arms length, read to be scooped up and showered in affection when he needs a break

"Oh come onnnn... It'd be so boring without you. You wouldn't leave me all alone, right...?" He coos, gently pulling you by your waist closer to him with a needy grin, eyes shining slightly as he tilts his head, pressing a soft little kiss to your wrist before glancing up at your eyes.

It's enough of a difference that the IPC might actually start giving you a paycheck under the title of "emotional support employee" simply to avoid having to deal with him when you're not around

He'll make it up to you by taking you out to fancy lunches, and dinners... and occasional breakfasts—

There's actually a good handful of days that he simply refuses to come in because he woke up with you laying on him and would physically rather die than move

His jealousy issues are a little more pronounced now, too...

He's hates having to get violent, really, but he has absolutely no qualms with calling out and publicly humiliating anybody for staring to long or being passively rude

But if anybody is being outright aggressive towards you, it's a completely different story

Don't they know who you belong to? How easily he could ruin their entire livelihood with a single phone call?

His eyes will narrow, his smile getting a little wider as his grip on you tightens, memorizing the persons face as it drops in realization, oh what a thrill~

He'll be an obsessive possessive mess, but there are worse things than being the sole focus of an attentive and devoted man...

Ignoring how he'd rather suffocate than see you smile so genuinely at anyone else with those perfect lips he just adores, of course

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 29. War Games

A/N: I haven't done a bonus post in a while, and today we hit 900 followers! So enjoy an extra Dahlia post! (This is also partly fuelled by the fact I've written everything up until her second year and I'm impatient at wanting you guys to know). Summary: With the end of the year fast approaching, War Games is finally upon the Quadrant. Eager to win, Damon recruits the help of Dahlia. Can she help secure them the win? Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Support Me

Overhead the sky is riddled with clouds in the early morning glow, and I pray we’re lucky enough to avoid any rain. Flying in the rain sucked. It felt like you being pelted by thousands of little needles. What a way to kick off the first round of War Games. Meaning the end of my first year was fast approaching. It felt like only yesterday I crossed the parapet, but in reality it had been nearly ten months. My life had changed so much in that time. I actually had friends, I felt free from the pressure of my family. And then…. then there was Garrick and whatever the hell was going on there. Lately he’d seemed more and more agitated and frustrated. I’d heard a few of his squad muttering about him being in a mood more than normal. Wonder what the hell was going on with him to have him on edge.

”What do you think we’re doing?” Bodhi asks, leaning in to whisper to me.

Despite the amount of riders in the courtyard right now, it was eerily quiet as the Wing Leaders and other leadership talked amongst themselves.

I shrug, “No clue, but whatever it is they all look excited about it.”

He nods in agreement. Even from out spot at the very back of Fourth Wing we could see the smiles and enthusiastic nods. Whatever was about to go down was going to be good.

”Any clue what we’re doing?” I ask Proth whose been lingering in the edge of my mind this entire time.

”Not a clue little flower. You’re guess is as good as mine.” He replies, trying to seem uninterested.

Well he was no help. Though Proth didn’t ever really show much interest in what happened amongst us humans. This was probably the most interested I had seen him. But he was probably itching for some action. I was his first rider since my grandfather had died, choosing to remain in the vale till now. From what I knew, he was ruthless in battle. And I knew I was only scratching the surface of what he could do in flight lessons.

”Alright everyone, today War Games begins!.” Damon calls out, his voice echoing around the courtyard as everyone cheers. “Normally the first round would be two Wings attacking and defending in a battle. But this year we’re doing something a little different.”

Murmurs pick up around the Rotunda, seems this year was a year for something different. Though the final round of War Games would be the same. It had never deviated from the usual battle that took place over multiple days. And that I was excited for.

”This year your leadership have been taken hostage and scattered around the surrounding lands. These hostages range from low to high value, and will gain your Wing points according to their value. The Wing with the most points by sunrise tomorrow will win.”

Around us everyone is chattering with excitement, all trying to guess who will be our hostages. Due to the lack of Professors I’ve seen this morning, I have no doubt a lot of them will be taking part in the activity. Some of them definitely higher ranking than others due to the jobs they held. Devera and Carr would definitely be higher in value due to the classes they taught and the knowledge they held. But overall, they didn’t hold high rankings within the leadership. There had to be others in there. And there were plenty of Colonel’s and General’s within Basgiath that could be thrown in the mix if they deemed us worthy of their time. Of which I knew there would be few.

”Wingleaders, you have one hours to organise your Sections and Squads. Good luck.” And with a final nod, Damon walks down the stairs to the Section and Squad leaders that await his instruction.

”Who do you think is playing hostage today?” Bodhi asks as he eyes off the group at the front of our wing.

”Professors for sure. I’ve barely seen any today.” Liz says excitedly. I never imagined her to be excited over something like this nearly a year ago. But now she was ready to jump into anything.

”You think any of the dragon riders within Leadership will partake?” Austin directing her question towards me.

I shrug, “Hard to say. They probably don’t deem us worthy to waste time on. Unless someone from the top forces them to. I wouldn’t be surprised if they put some of the Scribes in there.”

”You think so?” Kai asks, joining in on the conversation as he leans past Liz.

”Scribes are more important than you think. They gather and distribute everything we know. They are very valuable.” I tell him, Kai nodding in agreement.

”She’s right. All that information they hold and keep, its invaluable.” Damon adds as he approaches us. “Which is why I want you to come with me.”

I hear the others around me muttering in curiosity. Damon pays them no attention as he motions for me to follow him, leading me over to the front of the Wing where the Squad and Section leaders wait.

”You know I’m not a Scribe right?” I inform Damon as we stop in front of a table one of the riders has dragged out from somewhere.

”Yes, but you’re the closest I’m going to find to one in this Quadrant.” He says as he spreads out a map.

I recognise it immediately. It’s of an area to the east of here in the Elsum Province, just west of Chakir, the edges of the mountain range where it sits just visible.

”You know Navarre better than anyone in this Quadrant. You’ve travelled all over with your father.” He states as he gestures to the map.

I nod. “Yes, but mainly to outposts. There are no outposts in this region except for Chakir that’s just off the map.” I tell him as I also gesture to the map. “There’s a few very old outposts from hundreds of years ago, and a few towns. There’s nothing notable about this map.”

Garrick shakes his head at me across the table, a slight smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth as if he knows something. “You said there were old out posts in this region?”

I narrow my eyes at him and nod. What the hell was he getting at?

”Then why aren’t they marked on the map.” Xaden points out while his eyes scan the map.

I look down at the map and see he’s right. The towns are marked, a few landmarks. But the outposts from all those years ago aren’t marked on the map at all. Yes they were long forgotten and no longer used, but most detailed maps still showed them as they were still useable if we needed them to be. Well for the most part. Some of them needed repairs. But in a pinch, they would function.

Damon holds out a pen to me, nodding towards the map with a smile. “Do you remember where they are?”

I take the pen in his hand, nodding before I start marking the three outposts I know. Two in the now overgrown forest at the edge of the province, and the main one at the start of the mountain range. I knew that one the best as it wasn’t far too far from Chakir. We’d used it once as a resting spot before travelling further to Monsterrat from Summerton.

”So what’s your expert opinion?” The section leader for Flame asks me, staring me down across the table.

All eyes are on me. I feel like I’m back at Squad Battle where I’d been thrust into a position of power. I was the lowest ranking one in this group. I held no power, and yet all of them were waiting for what I had to say.

”I’m not an expert.” I tell them, Garrick and Xaden both looking at me as if I’ve told the biggest lie they’ve ever heard. “But if I were to hide someone in this area, and potentially at one of these old outposts, I’d pick the one in the mountain here.”

”Tell us about it.” Damon encourages as he crosses his arms and focuses on the outpost I’d marked in the mountains.

”There’s only one way in an out, and the vantage point from that one is good. You can see for miles in every direction. Anyone ambushing it is already at a disadvantage before they arrive. Unless you come from behind, but to come from that direction you’d need to fly in from Chakir or circle around from the north or south.” I tell them.

”All of which are out of the question for the time limit we have.” Xaden states, the others nodding in agreement.

”What’s the inside like?” The claw section leaderasks as she leans on the table.

”Basic. It’s more of a watch tower than a proper outpost. Though the bottom floor is the biggest with cells and an interrogation room down the back, and rooms for anyone staying there. The tower extends most of the way up the mountain but the top has crumbled and fallen away.”

”Alright. Dahlia and Xaden you stay here. The rest, go back to your squads, I’ll come relay your orders soon.” Damon informs them, waiting for all of them to be out of ear shot before turning to us. “I want you to go to outpost in the mountains. Our high value target will be there.”

”You don’t know that.” I tell him as I look back to the map. For all I know those outposts had been taken out because they were no longer there. Potentially fallen apart to the point they were no longer there. It was a risk.

”We don’t. But it’s the best shot we have at winning, and if you say thats the most likely spot then I’m going to bet that’s where they are. We send other squads to the other outposts you’ve marked and try get some lesser value hostages if they are there.” Xaden states casually.

Damon nods in agreement. “My thoughts exactly. Those outposts are old and no longer used, but they should still be marked as points of interest.”

”If that is the case, we can’t put it past Dain to not figure this out either.” Stating the obvious to the men around me.

Xaden turns his head and laughs. “Don’t think that will be a problem.”

I turn my head and follow Xaden’s line of sight to where Dain still stands in formation with his squad. Completely forgotten by his leadership. A missed opportunity. Dain would just follow the orders given to him. Trust what was being told to him at face value. Just like with our father. He’d have no way to know or tell his leadership of what could be missing on the map.

”A small group heading off on their own is going to rise suspicion amongst the other wings.” I tell him.

”And that’s where Amara comes in.” Damon says with a smile. I turn my head, a girl from a squad in flame section walking over to us. “Amara here has an illusion signet. She can make anyone see what she wants.”

”Is she coming with us?” I ask Damon.

”No, I need her to help hide the scouting group I want to send out to survey the area for anything abnormal. You’re going to borrow her signet.” He says with a grin.

Of course he knew my signet. Only those in leadership were allowed to know, and I guess that fell to Wingleaders to, not just those in command of our armies. Though there were a few who had figured it out on their own. Even with me mainly using signets that weren’t visible. I turn and see Amara holding her hand out to me, waiting for me to grasp it. This was a massive gamble. I’d never used her signet. Something like an illusion would require a lot of attention and power. Something I wasn’t sure I could control on the fly and in a high intensity situation.

”Don’t doubt yourself.” Proth snaps in my head, startling me.

”Can you blame me? I’ve never used a signet like hers.” I snap back.

”It’s not like you could kill someone with her signet. Just take her hand and trust yourself.” He snaps again.

I sigh, reaching out and taking her hand. Praying to the gods this would work.

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