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#thanks nice anon
irishhorse-blog · 8 months
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I think this live is the best example of how jk spent 95% of the time teasing and talking to Jimin, and yet the big accounts are 🦗🦗🦗 some aren’t even mentioning Jimin commented like hahaha how are they still managing to ot7-ify THIS??
Love your blog by the way! Hope you have a good rest of your day :~)
Those big accounts are hopeless. I've completely given up on them.
And thank you for the compliment!!! I hope you have a great day and weekend, yourself!
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whysojiminimnida · 2 years
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So now I gotta ask.... what -are- your thoughts on marriage & "these two" (JM & JK)? I'm actually curious & value your opinion. 😘🌈
I think they've talked about it. I think that Jungkook tattooing Jimin's initial on his ring finger and then taking steps to ensure that the J and M aren't separated is a clear sign of high-level commitment that rivals marriage.
I think that showing off that ring finger even when other parts of the tattoo are covered, or electing not to wear jewelry on that hand to the Grammys, is a statement.
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I think that Jimin getting a tattoo of the moon when even the Run editors call Jungkook and Jimin the "sun and moon duo" is also a statement of high-level commitment.
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I also think that they are not married anywhere (yet) - not because they are ashamed, but because they are professional entertainers who are in the most famous group in the world. They are not unaware of backlash. It follows them everywhere, even now, and for that reason a legal marriage is not on the table for them. Military service is also an issue, since it appears they will be serving soon. Another issue is that, at least right now, any marriage they undertook would not be legal in Korea. But it would throw them into the Korean spotlight as an out couple and that would be bad on levels unseen in the West for decades. Still, it's in the back of their minds. And Jungkook in particular has made sure we know.
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I think that marriage is a dream for them. A someday, but not today thing. I think they both want it, I think they behave like they already have it, and I think their minds are made up and their hearts are in it for the long term. I think they are each other. I think Jungkook believes in destiny and Jimin says that none of this is coincidence and the universe has moved just for them. I think they're married in all the ways that really count, until they can be married on paper.
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random-autie-fangirl · 4 months
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Bro, I'm actually hoping Chara DOES somehow get into Deltarune too 😔
Yeah...
Hey, would you wanna my headcanons and thoughts on a possible deltachara?
Which would probably not be coming anytime soon but... I do have things to say
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drowninnoodles · 1 year
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you’re neat
and my friend thinks you’re cool and talks to you but I just kinda watch from the sidelines like an outsider thanks to social anxiety even on the internet
aww thank you, don't be afraid, you can talk to me too :). Don't worry I have social anxiety too but as you can see I'm fighting it
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itsrixasusual · 9 months
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I'm in love with your art sir please post more if you have time ofc!
Thanks anon /v\. I haven't been uploading because of school but I've got a LOT of ideas in mind (I hope I could just execute them😭😭)
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ryllen · 2 months
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Hi! I hope that you are doing well🥰💗💕 I really adore your art!! Your Yuu really wins me over to the very heart!💘💘💘
I wear lightning-shaped earrings and they really remind me of Sebek!⚡ I would like your girl to put them on and draw this🥺💓
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But I also really love her black earrings that she wears when she's a teenager and green ones when she's an adult! It's really cute💕💕
And! I would be interested to know if Sebek notices when Yuu puts on other earrings or doesn't wear them at all if she doesn't want to?👉👈💗
Have a nice day!🥰❣️❣️❣️
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decide ur ending, which feels more in character
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somerandomdudelmao · 7 months
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this is so bad that people are asking you when your comic updates are so they can sleep.
Yall really SHOULDN'T do that, its messed up, im just speaking from my standpoint but hearing stuff like that i wouldn't even Want to update anymore or announce wips or anything with all this "when is it coming out? can i sleep? can i do this? is it coming out soon?" i mean asking for WIPS of the comic seems fine but asking when its coming out bc its affecting you is wild. and not good. imagine what type of stress that is on a person to know that people arent taking care of themselves until the comic comes out.
idk it feels like some of yall dont know how to act. this comic is a passion project if anything. it just seems. so unhealthy and offputting to deal with this from an audience. idk.
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fcthots · 4 months
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hihi! i love your work, i get so excited when i see you post!
i was thinking about cuddling with jason, relaxing before he goes on patrol, and him kissing you to sleep (or else he can’t say no if you ask him to stay) 😭
no rush or worry to get to my request, i just wanted to let you know how much i adore your writing! <3
~🦢
He knows how to get you to sleep. You know all the signs too, but when his nails scratch through your scalp, it's too late. They're blunt and the pads of his fingers are rough as they smooth over your hair. You make a content sound and feel the mattress move as he sits up and kisses your forehead. "Shh, baby." And had it been an earlier hour while you were fully awake, you would have made an offended scoff and told him do not tell me to shush, but it's so different when you're tired and one of his hands i softly tracing along your side. He temporarily breaks off his shushing to kiss your forehead again
and then your cheek and then your jaw and then again on your forehead.
You're passed out by the time he gets up. He's experienced at it now, makes sure not to wake you up. He knows it's tough to watch him leave, so he doesn't let you. And he knows you want to stay up for him, but you'll never be able to resist cuddling him even if you know what it means. He makes sure to tuck the covers snug around you. The bedroom always seems to be freezing no matter what you put the thermostat at, but who would complain when that just means more cuddling?
He silently bends down and grabs the red stuffed bat he bought you from under the bed. He moves it so it seems like you're cuddling the small plush of the insignia he wears on his chest. He bends down and kisses your forehead one more time because he just can't help it. As quietly as he can, he whispers "I love you. Sleep tight." He quietly laughs to himself about the joke you might have made had you been awake.
He's out of the door window without a sound.
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sanctus-ingenium · 5 months
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this is very specific but i love how you draw shiny horses. i have a lot of trouble with that (though that might just be cause i havent done enough studies lol) so seeing someone do it really well and cool as shit is very impressive 👍‼️
I did a tutorial on specular highlights on metallic surfaces here and placing the highlights on horses (or anything, really) follows almost the same principles - which is that the specular highlight occurs at the point where the light beams can make a 90 degree angle between your eyeball, the surface, and the light source. specular highlights are therefore positioned relative to the viewer and not just placed on the surface closest to the light source!
when you add fur or hairs to the mix you have to take into account the grain of the fur, which way hairs are lying. main point is that if the tips of the hairs are facing you it's like looking at a hairbrush head-on, the individual hairs swallow the light and scatter it so that it appears almost as if there's a cast shadow there. but there isn't, only an absence of light bouncing back into your eyes.
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this only applies to dark colours! white and pale-haired animals interact with light very differently.
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whoever this beloved anon was I am so touched by your kindness! You definitely didn’t have to do this but I am so happy you enjoy this idea and I will happily expand upon it for you!
this is just a collection of word vomit bullet points for the time being but I will happily answer any and all questions about this pair!!
warnings: violence, angst, child death (Sarah Miller), foul language, the same warnings that apply to tlou, reader is Sarah's mom and described as having similar features to her. 
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So the general Idea is that you and Joel are happily married before the outbreak. 
You had been Sarah's mother, his high school sweetheart he got pregnant when neither of you were old enough to have any reaction to the pregnancy test other than a fucking panic attack in one another’s arms. but you made it work 
you both worked but made time for one another and your sweet girl, going to museums every other weekend and joel insisting on swooping you off for a date every now and then 
nothing special. He knows you’re more of a diner gal than anything too fancy that makes you both feel out of place. 
On his birthday in 2003, you had planned to tell him that you were pregnant again. But the memories of your own fears of motherhood from all those years ago begin to swirl through your head again and you get cold feel. deciding to tell him the morning after
it is his birthday afterall, you want to focus on him. 
but when you’re woken up in the middle of the night because tommy needs to get bailed out, Joel kisses you sweetly one last time before promising he’ll be back and you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is happening. 
its you that shakes sarah awake that night. shouting at her to put on her shoes when she’s still rubbing the sleep from her eyes because you’ve been listening to the radio for the past two hours, calling joel again and again and again praying for him to fucking pick up but to no avail. 
Sarah, bless your little girl’s bleeding heart is the one who insists you check on the adler’s against your better suspicions and when you find the eldest looming over her daughter, blood and sinew dripping from her mouth, you grab your daughter hand and burst into a full sprint until something slams into your back and sends you tumbling onto their front lawn
its how joel finds you, struggling to keep the once sweet old woman, whose now nothing more than dead eyes and gnashing teeth straining to snap at your pulse point as you push against her while sarah shrieks before your husband runs forward and cracks her skull with a wrench. 
there’s hardly a moment of pause, just enough for him to pull you up and into his arms before he’s ushering you both into the car with an urgency. 
when the truck crashes, you get separated from them. Perhaps at Tommy’s side when the flames rise and create a wall, separating you from your husband, or maybe pulled into the mob of chaos when trying to escape from those already infected-
all joel knows is that you promise you’ll find him: just get sarah to safety and you’ll meet him at the river
Poor thing is already so frightened, held in her father’s arms with tears streaming down her face insisting they can’t leave you they just can’t but her father kisses her forehead and reassures her its going to be okay 
“we just need to be brave, okay babygirl? Your mama’s real tough, she’s gonna be alright.” 
he isn’t sure if he’s saying it to his daughter or himself. 
but when he comes to the river you aren’t there. Only a soldier who points a gun at the scared little girl in his arms and then he loses everything
its when the light is gone from his daughter’s eyes that he realizes. His voice cracked and raw from sobbing that he looks around to see his brother with drawn in shoulders and tears in his eyes but his wife is nowhere to be found. 
Tommy says you got lost in the chaos. Everything was so loud, so sudden that he turned around and suddenly you weren’t there. 
Joel wants to go back but its Tommy that stops him, that dulls the red in his vision to a sad faded pink because his brother points at the orange horizon not too far from them, so much of the city is already in flames. 
“We’re gonna find her, but not there.” 
So Joel searches. for the first year spent in the world post-outbreak its all he did. 
He became a smuggler because of it. 
Information came at a price and he needed to be able to fucking pay it, whether it be in blood or ration cards. He was willing to do anything to find you or any thin thread that lead your way. 
But it’s Tommy that asks him to give up. Not in those words of course. 
The youngest Miller knows better than to say something so cruel that would make his brother, the only person he has in this world turn on him. 
But his voice is worried when he asks him one night in Boston when he hasn’t even had the chance to wash the blood from his knuckles 
“You think she would have wanted this for you?” 
the fight that followed his words was brutal. Vicious insults and scarred fists slamming against each brother until they're both too tired and bloody to continue. Each leaning against a wall for support and Tommy’s wavering voice breaking the silence. 
“I don’t know where she is, Joel. But I do know you're gonna get yourself killed if you keep lookin’ for her.” 
All he can do is nod. 
It’s a few days later when he meets Tess. Who has heard plenty of stories about the elder miller’s brutality and wants him to put that muscle to good use for some extra profit. 
It begins his new life. One that empty and cold but one he can live. 
Until of course, Ellie comes along. The sweet and incredibly opinionated girl that makes him become something akin to the man he thought died twenty years ago. 
its when he’s traveling with Ellie, that it happens. When a warm familiarity has settled between the two because so much blood and pain has been shared he can’t help but see her as something close, something bright even though all he can force himself to utter in her reference is “cargo” 
when theyre traveling through the woods as Ellie chatters away, probing his memory about a movie that may or may not have existed thirty years ago because her descriptions of the plot are incredibly odd he hears a voice shout for them to stop and finds himself staring at a man- no, a boy- pointing a gun at them. 
Ellie stills, but Joel can see enough to know that from the lanky figure and dimpled face that he’s young. Maybe twenty, twenty-two at the oldest, but his eyes dart from Joel to Ellie with a pinprick of fear that allows Joel the time to charge forward and slam him to the ground before wrestling the gun from his hands. 
He has enough to time to tuck it under the stranger’s chin before he hears the sound of the safety being turned off and finds himself looking up and seeing a gun just inches from his face. 
Joel’s head whips around when Ellie’s voice calls out his name in fear, he turns to see another stranger holding her a gun point, shoulders drawn back and a shadow cast over their face by the had obstructing their identity. 
“You hurt one of mine, I hurt one of yours. That a fair deal?” 
Its takes him a moment to recognize you. It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice, the sweet tease when you would poke at him each time he woke up late despite the fact that you reminded him to set his alarm the night before, the times you’d chide him with a harsh “Joel Miller!” whispered in public anytime he was able to grab you a bit too passionately to be appropriate in public but the laughter in your voice let him know you were never truly mad at him. You didn’t know how to be. 
But that sweetness is buried under a cold rasp that cuts through the air as you point a rifle at the scared little girl in front of you.
“You think I won’t?” You’re older now, skin covered in scars from a life he didn’t know you got the chance to live and your eyes are cold as they regard your husband. “Put the gun down and get the fuck off of him, I won’t repeat myself.” 
Joel mumbles your name in awe. The woman he loved, the woman he mourned the one he fought so hard to find stands before him like some sort of hallucination and suddenly the world feels like its spinning until you bark orders at him again. 
“You’ve got five seconds Joel, make a fucking choice before I make it for you.” 
He looks down and realizes the boy under him, the one with the bleeding nose and snarling face has your eyes and his dimples. 
“One.” 
The one above him has Sarah’s hair. Soft brown curls that shine under the sun. 
“Two”
Wait. No, they both do.
“Three.” 
Twins. Jesus fucking Christ you had twins. 
“Four.” 
Joel holds the rifle up above his head and the one boy standing snatches it from his grasp, tossing it to the ground and kicking it far from his reach. He slowly stands, allowing your son- dear god your son- to scramble to his feet. 
Your voice softens just for a moment. “You okay, Duke?” 
Blood stains the bottom half of his face from where Joel slammed his fist into the boy’s nose just moments before, but he nods nonetheless. 
Now, they both stand on one side of you and he can see the resemblance clear as day the same way he would whenever Sarah was by your side.
When you order him to hand over his bag, he does so without question before telling Ellie to do the same. 
She watches him with wide eyes, her hands still up in the air but gaping at her companion as if he had grown a second head. 
“Joel!” “Just do it, alright?”
He doesn’t miss the way you watch their interaction with narrowed eyes until she tosses her bag to you and you slowly lower your gun. 
“Now, you want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doin’ at my home?” 
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#i had an idea of something similar for tommy but on outbreak night he uh. abandons you instead of getting separated from you#because. angst :D#people say nice things#this was incredibly generous of you anon thank you so so much!#i may get myself a little starbucks drink this week now because I havent had starbucks since like january 1st lol#joel reeling from taking in all this information and also realizing he suckerpunched HIS OWN KID#id like to apologize for all the grammatical issues with this. this is just a bulletpoint word vomit to get my thoughts on the page before-#-beginning the actual fic. also I have to do a midterm tonight and this is my treat to myself hehe#but yes. joel getting separated from his wife on outbreak night and having to accept that shes probably dead#meanwhile youve lived this entire life without him because you think HES dead ad raising your boys all on your own#which just- further digs into his insecurities about failing in his role as a protector#he couldn't save sarah. he can't save ellie and he couldn't even save you#he thinks about you pregnant and alone. fending for yourself in a world full of infected and raiders and his chest grows tight again#this is all followed by Ellie going >:O 'you KNOW THIS PSYCHO?'and then joel immediately snapping at her to WATCH HER MOUTH#because that kid has no filter and he has to explain that youre his wife#anyways joels wife is a badass mfer who also maybe has a little garden and some chickens that you and your boys take care of <3 yeah .#reunion tag#ill be using that for this specific couple because I dont have a fic title yet but if anybody has suggestions!
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venacoeurva · 10 months
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Pride month Nerevoryn
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I couldn’t think of anything very intriguing, but a large guar would be interesting to see
-Please do not reupload, edit, or use without proper credit or linking back. Ask first, please.-
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skullsemi · 3 months
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what would gladstone do if he ever saw mortimer crying or feeling down....when mortimer thinks he's alone
What an ask. Well I personally don't see Gladstone as an expert on comforting someone, nor Mortimer as someone to show a vulnerable side so easily, but the thought is nice
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Aren't they something
And hey have some bonus doodles cause my oh my if I start talking about them I won't stop
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whysojiminimnida · 2 years
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Jikook is really an international open secret everyone knows those two are a thing why is rolling stones posting them I'm sick
I’m not sick about that at all, nice anon.
If Rolling Stone had done it to Taekook the fandom would be on its feet, cheering. Since it was the Jeon-Parks, who have emptied their box o’ fucks, they need to be gatekept and hushed up? Nahhhhh.
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These men get to have some adult autonomy. They knew they were essentially onstage and in an international sea of photographers. They could have toned it down and I would argue that actually they DID 🤣
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But Jimin and Jungkook are grownups. Adult men who are in front of cameras for a living. They know what they’re doing and I think we would be happier if we just trust them. Rolling Stone didn’t out them on the cover.
It’s gonna be okay, anon. I promise. They were hardly the gayest people in the room. 💜
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takami-takami · 11 months
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more on sexually repressed Keigo: he doesn't want to scare off his crush with his sex drive so every date is like edging himself almost?? it's so good but so painful and whenever they kiss him they press into him just hard enough he makes a strangled moan/ chirping noise in the back of his throat. yeahhhhhh
🪷 anon
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Oh my God, those little makeout sessions at the end of your dates have simultaneously become the highlight of his week and the bane of his existence.
You're his first real crush, he thinks, and that brings with it a myriad of... disorienting feelings that go past just butterflies and innocent longing.
Keigo has a commendable will and ability to conceal his newly found desires; but oh my fucking god he wishes he didn't have to. He knows you want him, too. When he presses himself against you, feathers pick up on that pounding heartbeat not from your chest, but from between your thighs.
It makes him throb in more ways than one, too.
He swats the thoughts away, shooing them off like a dog at the foot of a table. He'll be damned if he doesn't do romance right by you. Oh, you'd think he's such a freak if you knew, he's convinced.
He can't have you thinking that; so with a huff, he squeezes your hand before dropping you off at your front door yet again. The fingers on his right hand twitch when you blow him a kiss. He buries them in his pocket, turning away with a wave on his left before he takes flight, all to go home and fuck that same fist raw for another agonizing night alone.
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twilight-zoned-out · 5 months
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"Seven years ago we all went through the flames; and the happiness of some of us since then is, we think, well worth the pain we endured."
Although Dracula was published in 1897, some think that it takes place in 1893 because of the way the days and dates used line up. If that's the case, Jonathan Harker's epilogue, seven years later, would have been added around 1900. A new era bubbling with new change and new conventions. The story ends with Jonathan looking ahead to a new century filled with the unknown and being able to look on the past, despite its darkness, "without despair."
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blindmagdalena · 3 months
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I had a really fluffy homie thought; basically cuddling on the couch under a fluffy throw blanket and watching cartoons like Rick and Morty or Bob’s Burgers. It’s probably totally ooc for HL but the holidays are always a little rough for me and this made me feel all fluffy and warm 😂
Homelander really doesn't care what goes on the TV. That's not why he pushes you down onto the couch or why he's nuzzling into the crook of your neck, snaking his arms around your waist.
The TV being on is more incidental than anything else; maybe it's for you, something to keep you distracted and still while he indulges in being more vulnerable than he usually cares to show.
Either way, he never pays much attention to it.
He's far more focused on the slightly alien feel of his bare fingers brushing the nape of your neck. He normally keeps himself so removed from the world, sensation muffled by the soft leather of his gloves.
He doesn't need the suit here. He doesn't need the world to be deafened or muted. With you, he can be raw. Exposed. Content.
This way, he can clearly feel the beat of your heart against his chest without thick padding dampening it. He wonders if you can feel the steady, strong thump of his. He listens to your lungs fill and empty, the breath from your lips ghosting over his temple and rolling goosebumps down his spine.
He can feel your mortality in every bit of you. Your whole existence can be broken down into such simple, primitive mechanisms, and yet the sum of you is something magic.
There is no frailty in the way you hold him, no uncertainty. You don't hesitate. You love him. More than that, you make it seem so easy. He can't understand why so many have failed to give what you have in spades.
He's not cold, but it's sweet that you pull the throw blanket off the back of the couch and drape it over your entangled bodies. Your fingertips brush his jaw as you tuck it in around his neck. He smiles against the skin just below your ear and kisses it appreciatively.
You card your fingers through his hair, gently separating any gelled pieces that might tug. You don't have to, but it's sweet that you do.
It's sweet that you touch him like you could break him.
It's a difficult pill to swallow that in reality, you could. You could break him apart with the wrong words, the wrong look, the wrong rush of adrenaline. He would fall apart and tear the world down with him if you ever turned on him.
His grip tightens just enough to hitch the flow of your breaths.
"You okay?" You ask, hand pausing to cup the back of his head.
There it is. Your frailty. It would take so little to break your spine, and yet the echoes of that crack would haunt him for the rest of his life. The circle of your arms is a glass house, a precarious invitation for tragedy.
Sickening that the thought of tragedy still frightens him when it's all he's ever known. That fear sits inside him like an ugly, festering wound. The rot of it spills into all aspects of him—paranoia, anger, possessiveness, he feels it all with such burning fervor.
It's easier to simply call it love.
"Yeah," he says eventually, lifting his head to meet your gaze. You look concerned, so he kisses you. "M'great," he insists, shaping the words against your lips. "You make everything... great." He feels you smile at that.
"If you're sure," you say, pushing both hands through his hair. He can only imagine the shape of it after all the toying you've done with it. "You're squeezing awfully tight."
"Sorry," he says, not sounding very sorry. He won't tell you that he was testing the give of your body, sensing with his arms exactly what it would take for you to break apart within them. Not when he's so devastatingly content.
You brush his cheek with your knuckles. "It's okay. I don't mind."
"I might squeeze too tight," he says, leaning into your touch.
"You won't," you assure him.
"I have before," he counters.
You pause a moment. "You know better now."
"Sometimes." He says it like a confession. A dirty little secret for your ears alone that sometimes—only sometimes—he's not entirely sure he's doing the right thing.
The two of you sit in a poignant silence, the television paused on one of those Are you still watching? prompts.
"I'll tell you when it's too tight," you say, tipping his head back to meet your gaze. "And you'll listen to me."
He stares at you for awhile, gaze flitting slightly as he takes in the somber look of you. You've never been afraid of speaking up. Not even against him. He believes you.
And you'll listen to me.
An assertion he would balk at from anyone else. Instead, in your voice, from your soft lips, the thought soothes him.
"Yeah," he says, flexing his grip slightly. "Okay."
"Good. You can squeeze a little tighter," you say, settling your head back down against the couch.
He does. He closes his grip ever so slightly and buries his face into the crook of your neck, taking in a deep breath. A little tighter, and you squeeze his shoulder in warning. He lets out a breath and relaxes his hold on you with it, practically melting against you.
The two of you stay like that for a while, each of you testing the feel of the other. The slow tap of warm fingertips and freely exploring hands mapping out a lifetime of potential in the others body. He's gentle out of necessity, and you're gentle out of understanding.
Homelander hits play on the remote before he settles back down. He still doesn't care for watching, but it's a means of telling you without telling you that he's not ready for this moment to end.
Blessedly, you slip your fingers back into his hair, accepting the gesture for what it is.
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