Weak

[simplememes]

WEAK FOR [...]


What am I doing? Oh, nothing. Not a single thing. I’m certainly not rifling through a bunch of photos in my pocket-

NO NO WAIT STOP DON’T LOOK. I can't reveal my one weakness.

[1] Someone strapped a sign on your character that tells the whole wide world what they're weak for, what gets them biting their lip, blushing, weak at the knees, all that. Whether it's a specific person's name or particular words/actions (calling her a good girl, touching his neck, kissing their forehead), there's no difference in the end. They're exposed either way.
[2] All that matters is everyone can see it.
[3] That's it.

Do not post any blank top levels.

Comments

[strengths]

[ introspection can kill a man with its unspoken depths, that is true. jace is not given to it often, if only because the present is ever demanding his attention more.

still. he has his interests. so does the lord stark. there is still middle ground to be covered. ]

You don't have to; I only mean to ask. What else, then? What else interests you?

[wolfpacts]

[ It's not himself he fears. On the other hand, perhaps it is, in a way. What singular and unprecedented others inspire in him... in the soil of his heart, which once he might have claimed—with all the arrogant knowing of youth made to grow up too fast—to understand well enough to predict what could grow there. ]

... about you?

[ All at once frankness whetted by specificity seizes him, and any response he could've made to dodge and deflect and demure. Well, why bother? He had more peace of mind when his interest was still secret even to him—but denial was a quick thaw. ]

[strengths]

[ —oh. all youthful boldness flees from him in the face of an open admission. his cheeks flush a soft and pretty shade; jace finds comfort in biting his own mouth, sucking the swell of lip as he turns his eyes aside, to look elsewhere. ]

If my lord would humor me, I'd like to hear it.

[ he is all of his years, six and ten and freshly baptised in the heat of youth. ]

[wolfpacts]

[ Winning blushes may qualify under a similar thrill of the hunt for four-footed prey. Not with everyone; not all instances he drives color into people's countenances, affronted, cringing, or otherwise. But some—some entrance. He takes great interest in the parade of changes across the prince's mien, entertained to see the darkening around his delicately freckled nose. And softened, too.

How unfortunate for anyone who's nursed a fluttering feeling for the Prince of Dragonstone in their day. Worst of all, he has yet to figure out the kind of power he wields pulling attention to his ample mouth the way he does. ]

You have the dragon's fire and ferocity in you. I can see it. And... a sweeter warmth, too.

[ Like now. Like this. Tenderly earnest. Before he thinks better of it, he's reaching out, unhurried—doing so slowly, providing able chances to signal there are limits to the liberties tolerated. Absently drawn, almost helplessly, to stroke the back of his finger along the round of the other's cheek, affection in the urge to bridge the space.

He likes it. He likes all of it. He likes it better, of course, when Jace looks at him. ]

Have I embarrassed you?