#trust and vulnerability

[aventurineswife]

Dan Heng with a reader who loves to write stories of their own but rarely show them to others in fear of criticism or getting made fun of. But one day, they decided to ask him if he would read their story (since Dan Heng loves to read books) telling him if he can give a feedback about it as they fidgeted with their fingers nervously while Dan Heng read through the contents of the story, awaiting his reply. (You can also add other characters who fits this scenario if you'd like!)

Pages in Light

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Emotional Support, Encouragement, Writing and Creativity, Trust and Vulnerability, Gentle Critique.

Warnings: Mentions of self-doubt and fear of rejection, Introspective moments (emotional vulnerability).

The clatter of the cafeteria quieted around you, the usual hum of intellectual debates and the clinking of cups barely registering in your ears. Sitting across from you, Dr. Ratio loomed larger than life, his hair catching the light, eyes as sharp as ever. His presence was both reassuring and utterly intimidating—a paradox that left your fingers twitching nervously against the notebook in your lap.

You had spent weeks debating this moment. The stories you poured your soul into had remained private for years, hidden away in notebooks and files on your datapad. Sharing them wasn’t something you did—not because they weren’t good, but because the idea of someone laughing at your words, at you, was unbearable. Yet, here you were, about to hand your story to one of the most brilliant minds in the universe.

“Dr. Ratio?” Your voice was quieter than intended.

He glanced up, his eyes piercing as they met yours. A golden ring around his pupils flickered in the light like an unspoken challenge to match his intellect.

“Yes?” His voice was calm but commanding, effortlessly filling the space between you.

You swallowed hard, gripping the notebook tighter. “I… I wanted to ask if you could read something for me. A story I wrote. I—well, I’d appreciate your feedback.”

The corners of his lips twitched upward, an amused expression dancing across his face. “A story? That’s a departure from the academic essays and research papers I’m typically handed. Intriguing.”

He reached out, palm open, and you hesitated before placing the notebook in his hand. His touch was steady, the slight brush of his fingers against yours sending a wave of nervous energy through you. As he flipped the first page, his eyes narrowed in focus.

You watched him, fingers fidgeting against each other under the table. He was silent, entirely absorbed in the words you’d poured your heart into. The silence stretched on, each second feeling heavier than the last.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he closed the notebook and set it on the table. His gaze returned to you, thoughtful and intense.

“This is remarkable,” he said, his voice as steady as ever.

Your heart leapt, but you quickly tamped down your excitement. “You… you really think so?”

Ratio leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Yes, though not for the reasons you may expect.” He gestured toward the notebook. “Your writing carries a certain rawness, an honesty that is difficult to achieve. Your world-building is vivid, your characters compelling, but it is your voice—the unpolished sincerity—that makes it stand out. It is not perfect, but perfection is overrated.”

His words were firm, yet kind, their impact settling into your chest like a weight lifted.

“Th-thank you,” you stammered, warmth flooding your cheeks.

He leaned forward, his golden shoulder piece catching the light as he rested his elbows on the table. “You hesitate, don’t you? To share your work. You’re afraid of judgment, criticism.”

You nodded, averting your gaze. “I just… I don’t want people to think it’s silly.”

“Let me tell you something,” he said, his tone softening ever so slightly. “The greatest ideas in the universe were considered ‘silly’ at some point. Genius is not born from fear of ridicule. It is born from the courage to create despite it.”

His words hit harder than you expected.

Ratio pushed the notebook back toward you. “Your story deserves to be shared. Not because it is flawless, but because it is yours. There is nothing more extraordinary than that.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you blinked them away quickly. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He smiled, a rare and genuine expression that softened the sharpness of his features. “Now, if you ever need further feedback—or simply wish to share—I am here. And next time, try to believe in your own brilliance, yes?”

You nodded, clutching the notebook to your chest as a small but growing confidence blossomed within you. You would take his advice, you decided. Your stories were worth sharing.

Ratio’s gaze lingered on you as you stood to leave, his expression unreadable but warm. “Until next time,” he said, and you swore you heard a hint of pride in his voice.

The softly humming engine of the Astral Express served as background music to an otherwise still evening. You sat in your quarters, nervously clutching the manuscript in your hands. Words you had poured your heart into, meticulously crafted, yet kept hidden for far too long. Tonight, you decided, was the night to share them—with someone you trusted.

Dan Heng had always seemed like the perfect confidant. His quiet demeanor and love for literature had endeared him to you in ways you hadn’t expected. If anyone could offer constructive feedback without ridicule, it would be him. And yet, as you approached the archive room where he often spent his evenings, your courage faltered.

You lingered in the doorway, peeking inside. Dan Heng was seated at his usual spot, a book open in his lap. His hair caught the glow of the lamp beside him, and his expression was serene yet focused, as always.

“Hey,” you called softly, stepping inside.

He looked up, his sharp eyes softening when they met yours. “Something you need?”

“I, um…” You fidgeted, gripping the pages in your hands. “I was wondering if you’d… if you’d read something for me. And maybe tell me what you think?”

His gaze flickered to the papers you held, then back to your face. He set his book aside and leaned forward slightly. “Is it a story you wrote?”

“Yes,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I don’t usually show my writing to anyone, but I thought you might… you might be the right person to read it.”

He nodded, his expression calm but encouraging. “I’d be honored to read it. May I?”

You handed over the manuscript, your fingers trembling as they brushed against his. He noticed but said nothing, only shifting in his seat to make room for you to sit beside him.

“Stay while I read?” he suggested, his tone gentle.

You hesitated, then nodded, sitting at the edge of the seat as he began reading. The silence that followed was almost unbearable. You fidgeted with your fingers, chewing your lip as your thoughts raced. What if he hated it? What if it wasn’t good enough?

Minutes stretched on like hours as his eyes scanned the pages, his expression unreadable. Occasionally, his lips quirked or his brows furrowed, and you found yourself holding your breath, hanging onto every subtle reaction.

Finally, he set the manuscript down and turned to you.

“Well?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Dan Heng regarded you for a moment, then said, “You’re talented. Your writing is vivid and heartfelt. I could tell you poured yourself into this.”

Your chest loosened, relief washing over you like a wave. “Really?”

He nodded. “There are a few places where the pacing could be tightened, and some descriptions that might benefit from more clarity, but overall, it’s captivating.”

His words filled you with a warmth you hadn’t expected. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t,” he said, his tone firm but kind. “You have a gift, and it would be a shame to keep it hidden.”

You ducked your head, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. “Thank you, Dan Heng. That means… a lot.”

He leaned back slightly, his gaze softening. “If you’d like, I can help you refine it. I’ve read enough books to know what works and what doesn’t.”

Your heart swelled at the offer. “I’d like that.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, rare and fleeting but genuine. “Good. I look forward to seeing more of your work.”

For the first time in a long while, you felt confident in your writing—not just because of Dan Heng’s feedback, but because you had taken the first step to share a piece of yourself. And knowing he was by your side made all the difference.

[romanticsoftheart]

I want to crawl into his lap at the end of a long day, bury my face in his neck, and hear him say “there you are. i’ve got you.”

like i’m something precious he’s been missing.

[dangerousdesiress]

🔥“In The Heat of the Moment”🔥

“So you’re still upset with me?”

I don’t say a word; remaining silent as I continue wrapping my hair in the bathroom preparing for bed.

“Baby…”

“Can we please talk?” he calmly asks me in a firm tone voice.

I glance at his reflection in the mirror as he stands shirtless in the doorway waiting for me to finish.

“I’m tired. Plus I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow, now is not the time.” I reluctantly respond.

“So is that your way of avoiding a conversation with me and shutting me out?” he questions, while slowly walking up behind me.

Feeling a mix of emotions, I ignore engaging with him. I inhale deeply as I stand with my hands placed on the bathroom counter.

He gently grabs my waist to turn me around… My body now leaning against the sink, I turn my head away; trying to refrain from making eye contact as he stares at me.

“Can you please look at me?” he expresses softly.

“I don’t know what you want me to say...” I retort in frustration as I look at him face to face.

“Tell me how you feel…” “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Baby, what are we doing if we can’t even communicate?” he says, pulling me in close as he locks his brawny arms around my body.

Unfamiliar with the feelings that were brewing inside of me, I began to let down my guard and allow my thoughts to flow freely…

“Look, it’s been awhile since I’ve been in a relationship. Sometimes things between us can get a little intense and I question if I’m ready to be as open as you are with me.”

“You said some things to me the other day that kinda hit deep!”

Looking me in the eyes, he pauses for a second before saying anything. He smiles slightly and says,

“See, what you did right there is all I’ve been asking for… Vulnerability. I understand I said some things in the heat of the moment that may have triggered you, however that wasn’t my intention and I’m sorry.”

“I’ve been open with you, only because I TRUST you… That’s all I’m asking for YOU to do with me.”

As we stand close, I can feel the heat radiating from our bodies and the heaviness of anticipation mixed with desire filling the air…

“Do you trust me?” he whispers in my ear, while slowly trailing kisses with his lips around my neck down to my chest.

Unable to focus, my body becomes weak surrendering to his tender touch. The scent of his cologne engulfs my senses and I lose my train of thought, too lost for words to respond.

He picks me up and sets me on the counter, hands gripping the small of my waist… I grab his beard, gazing into his eyes as he seductively looks into mine.

“Do you trust me?” he asks again, this time in a stern deep voice.

Contemplating my answer, I wrap my legs around his waist while placing my arms around his neck. He slides me closer to the edge of the counter…

“What happens if I say I don’t?” I ask coyly.

Gliding his hands underneath my shorts, he bites his bottom lip as he looks down between my thighs and says…

“Then I think we’re gonna have a problem.”

(Written by: Cemecia M.)

[thief-of-eggs]

“who’s the top??” “who’s the bottom?” “blank is such a bottom-“ “so and so is taller so they’re the top-“ listen guys. it’s whichever one has a harder time being vulnerable. that’s the bottom

[logicallyblind]

i see your “bruce wayne laughs in upper class, 100 dollar bills fall from his lips when he chuckles, etc etc” take and i agree wholeheartedly but also i raise you

“bruce who doesn’t really laugh at things out loud like that really, he’s more of a nose exhale, brief grin and intense eye contact conveying his emotions” type of guy but sometimes

something will happen that constitutes, his full on body laugh and when its an instinctual thing it’s so rare that bruce doesn’t have a failsafe for that reflex and the person they’re with just,, stops

because the laugh they’re so used to can’t be compared to this genuine deep, heavy with emotion and feeling laugh that fills his lungs and your soul- and they just wish he would do that all of the time instead of his wooden paparazzi simpering and its something so stark that it throws them for a loop

and idk i just love watching bruce expose layers of himself to those he loves without consciously doing so

[norviet]

“You complete me”

[yourstrulynobody]

I actually hyper-focused on this since like 7:00 in the morning (finished 7:00 at night; had taken several breaks because I wouldve went insane if I kept going without a stop /silly)

Based of "ECLIPSE IS SORRY!", moment at timestamp 6:14-7:04

"LYIAR DOES BACKGROUNDS ON AN ANIMATIC + THE ANIMATIC BEING LONGER THAN HIS USUAL ONES (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!!)?!1?1?1!!??"

[ciderjacks]

thinking again about how much trust he had to have in Laios to recommend his own daughter in case he dies

[tekstelart]

I had a caption for this but I lost it oops

[kenjakusbraincum]

Sukuna is old. He is also weirdly cultured for the monster that he is. With so much time on his hands, he loves indulging in arts and literature, and as with everything else he tries, he's good at it. You wouldn't know this, of course, you are only his pet. The time you spend with him is limited and hardly consists of intellectual conversation. You are there to serve one purpose and you know that quite well. So when you wake up in his bed one morning, two things come as a surprise. First that you're even here. It's one of those rare occasions when Sukuna couldn't be bothered kicking or carrying you out of his chambers once your time together was up. Second, he's awake, bent over his desk and so concentrated on a little figurine in his hand that he doesn't immediately notice you've shuffled awake. Once your eyes focus, you see that he's holding a tool in his other hand. He's carving wood. You're almost hypnotized by the scene. The scene feels so private that even for a pet like you, who knows Sukuna in the most intimate way, it feels like you shouldn't be watching. But you can't look away.

"Awake?", he asks, without sparing a glance at you. You apologize for staring, and look for your clothes around the bed. You throw them on just precisely enough to cover up until you reach your chambers, just wanting to be as quick and innocuous as possible. You wait for Sukuna's approval to leave. He gives you a simple nod, once more avoiding to look at you. You leave feeling conflicted. Special, because he allowed you to stay and watch (even as little as you did), but saddened because he barely looked at you, once more solidifying in your mind that you're only interesting to him when you're naked and bent over. As long as you've been here, you could never stop wishing for his validation.

Sukuna knows when you get insecure too. He notices the way your eyes droop, the way you close in on yourself and seem absent in his presence. He justifies this excessive worry about you by telling himself he likes to be the only thing that bothers his pets. All the way until he realized he already is the only thing that can make you sad. This realization falls upon him one time he lashes out on you and sees the immediate change of heart on your face. Now, he isn't one to apologize, especially not to someone who is as low under him as his pet. But why does he feel guilty when he sees this one act of his ruin your day? When he catches a glimpse of you sitting in the garden with your head hung low, or leaving more food on your plate than you usually do. If only you knew the way you really made him feel.

He beckons you to his chambers, and you follow three steps behind him like a good pet does. You didn't expect this time to be any different than others. You've become used to serving Sukuna on days you loved him and on days you hated him. But when he tells you to close your eyes, you know something is different. You obey, of course, and listen to his footsteps as he fetches something from the room. His hand takes yours and opens it, placing a piece of wood onto your palm. You already know, but you wait for him to allow you to open your eyes. He lightly presses his thumb on your cheek under your eye, and when you look, you find a small wooden fawn, curled up and asleep in your hands.

"Master!!..", you start, but nothing else can leave your mouth. You turn the figure around in your hand, inspecting and admiring the details. He's given you gifts before, but not ones carved by his own hand. Not ones made with love.

"You don't have to squint anymore.", Sukuna says, almost jokingly. But his face is as serious as ever as he looks at you, his muse. He thinks of the first time he's exhausted you to the point of passing out right after your nightly meetings. You were relatively new and very unsure of your safety. He thinks of your small body curled up in sleep on the edge of his bed, knees pressed to your chest in a primal, subconscious attempt to protect yourself. His little pet, his fawn.

You slur on and on about how beautiful it is, how you don't know how to thank him, the usual when you receive a gift. And as usual, Sukuna shuts you up with a kiss. You welcome it and wrap your arms around his neck, giving yourself in to him and letting him take you to the bed.

And he takes things slow tonight. He's gentle and so, so giving. Every sensation is delicate, prolonged and heightened to exhaustion. You cling to him, pull him impossibly close, and come apart under the comforting weight of him. Afterwards, you hold his hand to your face and kiss it softly. His hands, so large and strong, capable of such violence, yet for you they craft gifts, cradle, caress, love... in a very subtle and distant way, of course. With these thoughts your hands slip away from his, you turn around and quickly drift off.

He looks at you now, sleeping so close to him. Trusting him with your back, and turning your curled up form to the outside world. As if he is no longer a perceived danger. He smiles to himself in victory, and plants a chaste kiss to your shoulder to wish you one final goodnight.

[romanticsoftheart]

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever have a partner who understands my needs better than I do. Not just because they’re intuitive, but because they want to understand. Because they watch, they listen, they care enough to learn the things I don’t always know how to say out loud.

I want the kind of connection where I don’t have to ask for gentleness on hard days—he just senses it. Where my silence is read like a language. Where my desire doesn’t make me feel exposed, but safe. Desired and protected.

Not someone who tolerates my intensity. Someone who treasures it. Who wants to give me structure because they know it helps me exhale. Who holds me down—not to overpower, but to ground. Who tells me what to do sometimes just so I can rest in the feeling of being guided. Who calls me soft names like they’re prayers, and touches me like I’m something rare.

I want to be met in the places I don’t even realize I’m aching. And I want them to be glad to meet me there—not because they’re trying to be someone I’ll love, but because that’s just who they are.

That kind of love feels far away sometimes. But not impossible. Just waiting.

[arrowlovesdragons]

ENDLESSLY funny to me that Arthur's first subconscious, drunken instinct when alone with Merlin is to strip

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

massages forehead So Ambessa hid Mel away because she was a weapon in the literal sense, a mage. But Ambessa came to Piltover for Hextech? And Ambessa had nothing to say to Mel about her powers having visibly awakened? Even when Mel offered to go with Ambessa, giving her the ultimate opportunity to make Mel a weapon for real? And Ambessa made no attempt to find or retrieve Mel - not just her daughter and the remnants of the family Ambessa professes to love, but also her ultimate weapon - when she disappeared? And Ambessa trusted Singed and Viktor on their home turf - neither of them hiding how insane and self-serving they are with every reason to take over Ambessa's soldiers or just blatantly turn on her as soon as it benefits them - more than she trusted Mel? While Caitlyn (and by extension Piltover) was visibly and clearly falling away from Ambessa's teachings before Ambessa's eyes? (as if getting rid of certain people allows piltover to get rid of fascism but we won't get into All That)

Not only do I struggle to be hyped for Mel's powers beyond how amazing and beautiful she looks, but I can't help but feel like Mel is somehow less powerful in season 2 than she was in season 1, and not in an interesting way. As if Mel's ability to bend all of Piltover politics and economics to her will in season 1 now means nothing in season 2? You can argue that Jinx's attack led directly to Mel losing ground in Piltover - because I expected Mel to have to claw back that power without being able to rely on people who are too easily seduced by Ambessa and authoritarianism, and she would have to get creative to go toe to toe with her mother. I expected pushback to her mage identity that she would have to navigate. But instead this went either unwritten, or was ignored or discarded. Instead Mel is removed from the main plot, cutting her off from what made her the most interesting - only for all of Mel's very real talents, her very real powers and abilities, to be not only translated but REPLACED with magical powers she doesn't know how to control, and by the finale, those magic powers are the only powers that are considered real. Mel takes a backseat to Piltover's governing and decisions, a backseat to Jayce of all people who was not only new to politics mere months ago but made poor governing, strategic, and diplomatic decisions when he had that power. In season 1 Mel stayed off the "throne" but she did pull its strings one way or the other, and she makes no attempt at this in season 2

In my least generous suspicions, Mel was gentled and quieted to capitulate to an agenda for other characters who had to be correct and heroic - or wrong and villainous - no matter what the leadup narrative said, given her powers to help sell the game and set up future shows, and was effectively ejected from the Arcane story with faceless soldiers and a role she doesn't want because she was inconvenient there

[thehealingsystem]

if you ever wonder why I don't interact with the traumagenic community as a traumagenic system this is why

[piniatafullofblood]

top bakugo bottom deku is so boring you can find thousands of fics with bakugo being this (really ooc imo) swauve rough power top but TOP DEKU BOTTOM BAKUGO is interesting. it’s vulnerable for katsuki it gives izuku the opportunity to be fucking Insane (tm) like we all know he is but you guys aren’t ready for that conversation bc you’re still dressing him in slip dresses and twinkifying the man who nearly ripped his face off to win a school competition

[gotohelly]

“i’m nervous.”

“me too.”

“you too.”

“it’s okay.”

2x06 - Attila