#*maybe allowing them to express emotion wasn't a good idea*

[thesecretestblogever]

In Which Joe Learns How to Make a Girl Come

premise: you’re married to anthony stolarz and you both decide to help a guy out and teach him the ways of the female body

pairing: reader x anthony stolarz x joseph woll

w.c. : 8k

warnings: 18+ MDNI; oral (f and m receiving), threesome, unprotected sex (breeding! kink), size!kink, inexperienced!Joe, established relationship (marriage to Stolarz)

You’d been happily married to Anthony Stolarz for five years now. You dated for 4 years before that - meeting in Philly and falling in love quickly. You followed him from Edmonton, to Anaheim, to Florida, and now Toronto. It was exhausting to pick up and move so often, but you’d do anything for him and you knew he would do the same. Your relationship was rock solid, and there were a lot of reasons behind that.

He was one of the sweetest, kindest, and softest men you ever met, despite his size. He towered over you in a way that was almost comical. He was an incredible communicator and although he was often away from home or extremely busy with hockey, he always made sure you were taken care of, in more ways than one.

It wasn’t that you had an open relationship, but you were both experimental. Over the years you’d tried almost everything there was (within reason). If you found something you liked, it was added to the rotation, and if you didn’t, it was left behind, and there were many things you both liked. Through mutual agreement, neither of you ever slept with anyone without the other. Threesomes were a way you could both discover new kinks or interests while your significant other could still feel included and get off. Road Trips were hard if you weren’t traveling with him, but ultimately you only ever wanted each other and the idea of filling the gap with someone who didn’t know what either of you liked simply fell flat. You’d already tried that and neither of you were satisfied. 

The other rule was no teammates allowed. Anthony wasn’t possessive or jealous, but he treasured you and knew how some hockey players could be. He didn’t want anyone to treat it as a cheap thrill or feel entitled to your body. There was also just potential for it to damage the team’s dynamic or create weird feelings and he took his job very seriously, so those worlds stayed separate.

Well… until recently. There had been teammates you found handsome or alluring in the past, but never dwelled on those feelings. It wasn't worth it since nothing was ever going to come of it. Anthony knew how you felt anyway - you never chose to hide your attraction to any players. In the end, his feelings were never hurt. He knew you’d always return to him. He’d smugly smile at himself knowing that no one could make you come undone like he could. He knew all your ins and outs, a blessing that came from years of learning each other's bodies and what made you feel good. Similarly, he never had any emotional interest in the partners you brought into your room. What got him off was seeing you experience pleasure, even if it wasn’t his body giving it to you. He liked when someone was fucking you and your hazy eyes found his as he stroked himself. 

Sure, there were a lot of other handsome players across the league, but none of them ever really fit the bill of what you were looking for. They were usually arrogant and bullheaded, which to be fair, was something that helped their game, but it didn’t appeal to you. That’s why, when after moving to Toronto, your eyes fell upon a certain goalie. Maybe you had a type after all.

Joseph Woll was the tall, slim and sweet player that you felt could potentially fill that roll. It took awhile for you to express your attraction to Anthony, because you were embarrassed. Up until this point, the firm boundary of no teammates had never been a problem, but you couldn’t deny that you really wanted Joe. Your husband had just chuckled upon your confession, your cheeks red and warm as you finally told him how you felt.

“That one would be a tough sell. I really don’t think Woller would be up for that,” he let you down gently. You couldn’t hide your disappointment, but moved on when he broke the news. The attraction was still there, and Anthony only ever laughed and rolled his eyes when you laughed too hard at Joe’s jokes or let your touch linger on his bicep for a few seconds too long. 

Things changed one night when the guys went out for a drink after a hard fought win on home ice. The goalies had grown close over the season. Though he was new to the team, Anthony had more experience over multiple teams and years so he fell into a sort of mentorship role to Woll. They could relate on many things and they were grateful to have each other.

They sat at the bar and talk naturally turned towards their game and the tactics they liked to use. Now and then, other teammates would join their conversation, but at the moment, it was just them two. Eventually, Anthony decided to probe and steer their conversation towards a completely uncharted topic. He wanted to get a feel for the other man and see exactly where Woll drew the line in the sand. 

“And your dating life?” He finished the whiskey in his glass and gestured at the bartender to bring them two more. Joe just scoffed and swirled the alcohol around his glass and watched as the ice cubes clinked against each other.

“What, are you trying to embarrass me or something?” He started warily. He wasn’t sure where Stolie was going with this. The man was already married, and he wondered if he was trying to set him up with one of their friends.

“No, man, I’m just asking. You’re a good guy. No luck out there?” Some players chose to focus on hockey completely. They viewed a relationship as a distraction- though that didn’t prevent them from often taking a girl home on the weekend for some stress relief. He was wondering where Joe stood on all of this. 

“Not much luck. I feel like I don’t have enough time to start a relationship during the season, and I’ve only had a few hookups. And those… weren’t the best time for either of us, if I’m going to be brutally honest,” he said sheepishly. A light flush covered his cheeks and crept up his neck like he was embarrassed. 

“No? You’re a handsome guy,” Anthony shrugged his shoulders. 

“Yea, well, handsome only gets you so far when you have no idea what you’re doing. I cannot believe I’m telling you this right now,” he rubbed a hand across his face and wished he shut up minutes earlier. He would blame it on the alcohol in the morning.

This was the in that Anthony was looking for. He leaned in closer to Joe and lowered his voice so that no one else would overhear their conversation.

“Look, y/n and I have a unique situation when it comes to our sex life,” Anthony started.

“Y/n, as in your wife, Y/n?” Joe’s walls rose immediately as the skepticism filtered in. “Where is this going?”

“She’s into you and wanted to know if you’d join us for a night,” his eyes darted around the bar, and he was relieved that no one else seemed to be paying attention.

“But - you… you guys are married!” Joe’s mouth gaped open and closed like a freshly caught fish. It was endearing and Anthony could see what made you so interested. 

“Listen, you can say no and we can forget this conversation ever happened. Usually, teammates are completely off limits, but she’s interested and you seem to be having some… trouble. We could help you gain some confidence. I don’t have to touch you at all. Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he finished. Now the ball was in Joe’s court. Anthony was actually surprised to see the other man consider the offer. Maybe it was the fresh win or the whiskey impairing his decision making, but he actually thought of saying yes.

“I-” his mouth felt dry.

“Don’t feel like you need to answer now. Think it over. You have my number,” he finished the last of his whiskey and paid for their drinks. He got up from his seat and clapped Joe on the shoulder before leaving. 

It only took a few days for his phone to buzz and he shook his head, a smile growing across his face.

I’m in…

It took a few weeks to arrange things. It turned out to be the night after a bad loss. You would never tell Anthony, but those were always the best nights for you. The celebratory sex was good after a win, but there was something about the way your husband let go and took it out on you in the most delicious way after a loss. There was always a lot of weight on a goalies’ shoulders and they often took the brunt of criticism after a game. Now you would get to experience that times two. Joe had been in the net that night, and you were excited to take advantage of it.

You were ecstatic when you found out Joe had actually agreed. You’d been buzzing out of your skin since your husband showed you the text message. Planning took a little more effort and as every day passed, you were worried that he would back out, but here you were, finally sitting in your dimly lit bedroom with two beautiful men in front of you. Before anything began, it was important to discuss boundaries.

“We don’t do any hard BDSM, no piss or anything, and we check in with each other throughout the whole thing. And we use protection,” Anthony finished. You both sat on the edge of the bed, with you leaning into his side and stroking absentmindedly at his thick thighs that sat exposed from the shorts he wore. Joe sat across from both of you in a plush armchair. His eyes darted between you both and he swallowed thickly. 

“Do you think… Maybe this time we can forgo the condoms?” You asked looking up at your husband through your eyelashes. “We’re all clean and I’ve been on birth control for years now.” It wasn’t a ridiculous request, but rather a rare one. Before you ever got serious with each other, you’d had a conversation and agreed that neither of you were interested in kids. Because of this, you were never really interested in Anthony coming in you. Sure, it happened now and then, but with him it was always more about painting your body with his release. But Joe was pretty and inexperienced, and you had a feeling it would tip him over the edge. 

“Okay, no condoms then. As long as Joe is okay with that,” his warm hand drew circles on your lower back. Joe just nodded slowly, his eyes darting between the both of you. 

“What do you like, Joey?” You asked, playing with the nickname. Joe, though there completely of his own accord and agreement, looked tense and nervous. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I just want to make you feel good…” You trailed off and rested a hand on his knee, squeezing the warm flesh there. He jumped slightly from your touch like he couldn’t believe where he was.

“I… don’t know. I’ve never really explored that kind of stuff,” he tried to think of anything to offer, but his mind was completely blank and thoughts were hard to come by. 

“We’ll try some stuff… and we’ll keep checking in, okay?” You winked and your hand crept upwards. Joe may have been scared out of his wits, but that didn’t stop the obvious tent from showing in his sweatpants. It made your mouth water and you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him. He nodded slowly, his mouth hanging open. Anthony pulled you closer into his side and nuzzled into your neck, breathing the scent of you in and placing open mouth kisses along the hot skin. You tilted your head to allow him better access and reveled in the scratch of his beard across your skin. 

“Joey can watch for a little bit - get used to things,” he mumbled into your skin. You hummed and your hand came to rest on Anthony's jaw and pull his mouth up to yours. It was like the sweetest release when his lips finally met yours. You never tired of his kisses and you melted into him, your legs coming up to drape over his lap. It started slow and sweet, his lips moving over yours almost lazily like you weren’t in any rush. It allowed you to peek your eyes open and look over to see Joe watching in complete awe. His eyes were wide and his pupils blown large at what was taking place in front of him. 

Anthony pushed you until you were laid back across the mattress and shifted so he was now between your legs. His body almost completely covered yours. The kisses grew deeper, his tongue swirling in your mouth. You could feel his arousal against your thigh and you wanted to grind up against him, but didn’t want things to get out of hand too quickly. 

You pulled back slowly from him and placed a few more light kisses on his lips and cheeks. You felt breathless already. 

“Can I kiss Joe?” You asked. You knew his answer would obviously be yes, but it was a part of your shared routine to continuously ask for consent along the way, especially if someone else was involved. 

“Of course, baby,” he pulled himself off of you. As he kneeled back in the bed, he stripped off his shirt which made you second guess pulling back from him. After all this time, you never tired of his body. Instead, you chose to trail one hand down his torso as you got up from the bed.

You sat on Joe’s lap, running your fingers through his hair to push it out of his face. He stared at you with his blue eyes that made your mind flicker back to your husband on the bed behind you. 

“Is this okay?”

Joe just swallowed hard again, his eyes flickering down to your lips as he nodded.

“Words, baby,” your thumb ghosted over his bottom lip.

“It’s okay.”

Leaning in to connect your lips to his, the kiss started light, but there was a quiet desperation to the way Joe moved against you. He was unsure of himself and didn’t know what to do. His hands hovered over your waist, not sure where to land. 

“You can touch me,” you said against his mouth as you broke between kisses to catch air. You took his wrists in your hands and planted them firmly on your waist. It provided stability and allowed you to take full advantage of being on his lap. This gave him a confidence boost and the kiss deepened. His hands held onto you, squeezing the soft skin on your hips and wandering down. You took the cue to shift on top of him so that your thighs rested on either side of his lap. He groped your ass as you pressed down on him, feeling the hardness there against your core. It elicited the first sound from him - just a small hum in the back of his throat but it was all you needed to continue your ministrations on top of him, swirling your hips in a figure eight and running your hands up his chest to tangle in his hair. 

Another set of hands divided your attention as they ran over Joe’s and around to your front to knead at the supple mounds of your breasts over your bra. Anthony’s lips attached to your neck as he kneeled behind you. Even on his knees, he was equal height with you and his warm, bare chest pressed against your back. It was already overwhelming to have both of their hands on you and you craved to move forward. Your husband sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck and bit softly at the skin before laving his tongue over the red spot. This earned him a soft whine that was swallowed by Joe. You felt hot and itchy, like you needed more. 

You pulled back from Joe, admiring his red swollen lips and his hair that was now thoroughly disheveled - he looked downright gorgeous. You brushed your thumb along his jaw and pressed one final kiss to his skin before standing and turning your attention back to Anthony. You were past the need for subtle build up, your mind racing over all the things you wanted to do. Running your nails down his chest, you placed a singular kiss on his pec before sinking down on your knees in front of him. 

“We’re gonna test your ability to speak up. Don’t be afraid to ask if you see something you like,” you said over your shoulder to the man sitting in the chair. You wasted little time in pulling your husband’s shorts down, and he kicked them into the corner of the room. His boxers would follow shortly, but you wanted to take your time for the moment and give Joe time to adjust. You put your hands on Anthony’s hips, shuffling your bodies so that Joe could still get a good view of everything that was happening, but you could also look back at him. Your hand found the bulge in the briefs in front of you, palming over him. Your mouth kissed up his thighs and over the cock that was straining against the cotton. His hand came up to wind through your hair to take control of your movements. 

“You like that, huh? Teasing?” He breathed out, pressing your face into him. The mixture of hot skin and musky scent of him made your head dizzy. He never pushed too far, never called you names, but knew exactly how much turned you on. You moaned against him, the vibration traveling through the fabric. “That’s enough now.”

You didn’t need any more incentive, peeling away the fabric so that you could free him and give him exactly what he wanted. Anthony was a big man and that translated to many places. His hands were large, his digits always filling you to the brim when he fingered you. The same went for the thick cock that stood in front of you, leaking pre-cum from the tip. When you first started dating, it was intimidating to say the least. He always made sure to prepare you adequately and the stretch was incredible. 

Instead of looking up at him as you began to run your tongue over his hot skin, you looked past him to Joe. Your eyes didn’t leave his as you moved the muscle over his tip. You pulled back for a moment to spit into your palm before taking him further back past your lips. You hand fisted around the part of him that you couldn’t fit. You could gag over him and still not be able to take him all the way in. The obscene wet sucking sound filled the room accompanied by Anthony’s small hums as you worked over him. Blowjobs were nice, but he cared more about seeing you below him, happily working on him like you couldn’t get enough. It was one of your favorite parts of foreplay and often meant you got rewarded. 

A soft moan broke your eye contact and you looked again past your husband to see Joe sitting back in the chair, palming himself over his pants and looking at you with eyes half-lidded. It spurred you on to work harder on the man in front of you. You wanted Joe to gain the confidence and ask for what he wanted, so you decided to show him exactly what he was missing. You pushed yourself to take as much of Anthony in as you could, your tongue working against the underside of him and hollowing your cheeks. He knew exactly what you were doing, shaking his head and laughing quietly. A particular twist of your hand made him hiss out and bite his lip, his hand tightening in your hair.  

“I-” a voice broke you from your concentration. You stilled on Anthony, your mouth still enveloped around him and suckling lightly. He loved resting in your mouth - it turned him on to have complete control over you. You breathed carefully through your nose to not trigger your gag reflex as Joe spoke up from behind the both of you. 

“Can you- will you,” he struggled to find the right words. “I want your mouth on me,” his eyes flickered to Anthony as if he was asking for too much. The man only chuckled, tapping you to release him and he brushed your hair out of your face. He laid back on the bed to watch you pleasure the other man. You crawled over to Joe and ran your hands up his muscular thighs. Your hands drifted upwards and tugged at the hem of his t-shirt to signal that you wanted it off. He obliged eagerly, throwing it somewhere else in the room. 

Joseph was tall and slim - nowhere near as large as Anthony, but still beautiful. He was toned and his abs flexed as he sat back again. His chest was smooth and hairless, only a hint of hair on his stomach leading to the hem of his bottoms. He lifted his hips off the chair so you could drag down the fabric and dispose of it. You licked a stripe up his thigh and appreciated him fully naked on the chair. His arousal stood tall and achingly red against his stomach.

He wasn’t as big as Anthony, though not many were. It made your job easier and you couldn’t wait to make him come undone beneath you. You took him in your hand, fisting him slowly and watching the velvety skin stretch and retract as your hand moved up and down. His reaction was exactly what you’d hoped for. He groaned deeply, his head falling back and his eyes fluttering shut at the contact. Since his size was more manageable, you got to do something that you weren’t able to do often. You worked quickly on him, moving to take his pulsing cock into your mouth. Wasting no time, you bobbed up and down on him before sinking as far as you could, your nose hitting the skin of his pelvis and his pubic hair tickling you. 

“Fuck!” his hands flew to your hair before he could stop himself, entwining in the locks lightly. He didn’t hold you there but the shock of you taking him in caused him to tense and cry out. You swallowed around his length, gagging on him and pulling back to continue your movements. He didn’t seem the type to swear often, so you took it as a sign that you were doing something right.

Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked him, not wasting a second. You wanted to bring him to the edge and watch him squirm. From the way his mouth hung open and his abs flexed, you could tell he was barreling straight towards it. Your hands fondled his balls, rolling them in your fingers and squeezing lightly. It was then that you pulled off of him with a satisfying pop, giving him a few more lazy strokes before letting go. His chest heaved as he breathed deeply, looking down at you on your knees with wonder and disappointment that you stopped.

“The night is young. Plenty left to still explore, Joey,” you pressed one last kiss to his thigh before standing up. 

At this point, you were the only one still fully clothed. Both men were completely stripped, so you took the initiative to start pulling off pieces of your clothing, making a show of wiggling your ass at your husband as you pulled the leggings down slowly. He got up from the bed to assist you, running his hands over your bare skin every chance he got. Your shirt came over your head and was added to the growing pile of clothes. 

“You wanna help, hot stuff?” You held your hand out to Joe, knowing that all that was left was your matching bra and underwear, carefully chosen for this night. You wanted him to be the one to do it. He was still hesitant and almost scared to touch you, and you wanted that to change. Behind you, lips pressed into your skin once again and you could feel the hot arousal of Anthony’s cock against your lower back, contrasting the cool metal of his wedding band as his hands explored your body. 

Joe took your hand, pulling himself from the chair and standing in front of you. You still had to look up at him and he looked at you so softly it made your heart melt. He didn’t know how to handle you, so his default was to treat you like porcelain even if you’d taken much more before. 

You knew by now you had already soaked your panties through. Thick arousal was pooling between your thighs and you ached for someone to touch you. It was all becoming too much, the room hot with your combined sweat. 

Joe took the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs and following them so he was the one kneeling now. You felt like a queen the way he looked up at you with intense admiration. It was his turn to place a soft kiss right above your knee once you stepped free of the fabric. The clasp of your bra came undone with the nimble hands of the man standing behind you.

“I want to eat you out,” Joe blurted like he wasn’t sure exactly how to broach the topic. “I want to taste you,” he was slowly gaining confidence, learning to use his words and express his needs. You hand found his chin, pulling him up from the ground. Your bodies pressed together, your front against his as your lips met again, this time with less reserve. You were sandwiched between them, your brain buzzing with the stimulus of their hands and lips all over you. Strong arms wrapped around your waist, breaking you away from Joe as you were thrown over a shoulder. Laughter escaped you as Anthony carried you to the bed and Joe watched with a smile on his face. It felt nice to lighten things up now and then and not get too caught up in the intensity of the situation. You were here to make each other feel good. A smack to your ass made you yelp and you returned the favor on Anthony as you had a great view. The next moment you were thrown onto the plush mattress of your king sized bed. 

“Think you can make her come with just your mouth?” Anthony smirked after he pulled away. You looked between the men standing over you - one confident and the other looking like a deer in headlights. 

“Oh my god, you’ve never gone down on a girl before, have you?” You propped yourself up on your elbows. Deep red spread across his cheeks as he looked around at anything but you. You felt bad for embarrassing him, but there was only one way for him to learn. You crawled forward pulling Joe to the bed and holding his face in your so he couldn’t shy away. “Anthony can help you,” you rubbed your hands up and down his toned biceps and leaned in to whisper in his ear, your lips brushing his skin. “I want your mouth on me, Joey,” you nipped at his ear lobe before pulling away. “I’ll tell you what feels good.”

“Okay,” he nodded, mesmerized by you. You laid back on the bed and let Anthony take control once again. He looped his arms around your thighs and dragged you to the edge. He was over the foreplay and dove right in. You could tell he was beginning to lose his patience and you knew you were in for it. There was probably very little teaching about to happen. 

He licked a stripe up your soaking folds, moaning into you like a man starved. His ability to pinpoint every part of you that set your skin on fire would never get old. He alternated between fucking his tongue into you and licking at your sopping cunt. His arms held you down when your hips bucked upwards to follow the stimulus. The air was filled with your moans and gasps when he focused on your clit, his lips wrapping around it and sucking. He didn’t mess around, and your hands held onto his hair like it was a lifeline keeping you grounded.

You managed to open your eyes to see Joseph watching intently, no doubt taking mental notes about what to do when it was his turn. His hand wrapped around his angry cock, giving it half-hearted pumps and squeezes.  

“So fucking good,” Anthony nearly growled into you. The warmth was growing and tightening in your lower abdomen. If he didn’t stop soon, you would be sent hurling over the edge.

You tapped Anthony’s shoulder desperately. One of his favorite things was eating you out, but you still wanted Joe to have a chance. He groaned like he didn’t want to stop, but relented and pulled off. He didn’t need you to pull him up your body - it was muscle memory this time. He hovered over you, engulfing you lips with his as you tasted yourself on him. His beard was soaked with your slick and it wet your chin. 

Anthony moved behind you, effortlessly moving you so that you were laying between his legs, your back to his chest. Joseph kneeled at the edge of the bed, finally getting a good view of you. From this position, Anthony could hold you down and also coach the other man through it. You knew you weren’t going to last long and the thought of them both eating you out was enough to have your mind whirling. 

“Start slow. Flatten your tongue and lick her from bottom to top,” Anthony began. You arched into his fingers as they ran over your bare breasts. He squeezed the mounds and pinched at your nipples. When you squirmed in his grasp, he placed one large palm on your stomach, pushing you back down onto him. You watched as the man between your legs worked through his fears. Whether or not he knew how hot it was, his eyes held yours as he put his mouth on you.

His tongue was hot and wet against you, his spit mixing with the arousal that was coating your inner thighs now. With the build up from the man before him, you knew you weren’t going to last long. You were worried how many orgasms Anthony had planned for you, but knew you would end the night feeling like jelly. 

“Fuck your tongue into her once she’s warmed up. And alternate between sucking and flicking your tongue on her clit. Try some things, but also watch to see what makes her react. That’s the biggest thing,” Anthony continued playing with your chest, now placing kisses wherever he could reach. Joe listened eagerly and did exactly what he was told. When he focused his tongue over your most sensitive spot your body jerked to try and chase the sensation. You weren’t holding back anymore, the pleas and moans spilling from your mouth almost non-stop.

“You can spit on her. She loves that,” Anthony encouraged. He held you firm as you were beginning to feel the pleasure and promise of release build. Seeing Joe go from scared to a man possessed was doing more than he knew. He pulled back, his chin glistening in the dim room and looked you in the eyes as he gathered spit in his mouth and let it drip from his mouth over you. He licked back up you to collect the saliva and continued his attack, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard.

“Fuck, please,” you moaned, your eyes squeezing shut.

“That feel good, baby?” Anthony murmured into your ear.

“Yes, please don’t stop, Joey. I’m so fucking close,” you whined. Your husband’s grip lightened so you could grind your hips down onto Joe’s mouth. 

“Open your eyes, sweetheart. He wants to see your face when you come,” his hands traveled lightly over your skin and the extra stimulation drove you crazy. When you pried your eyes open, you saw the intense blue of his eyes, unwavering on yours.

Your first orgasm hit you in low waves. A single swear word flew from your lips as your hips stuttered against his mouth. Your moans were high pitched and breathless as the warmth and pleasure filled your limbs. Your hands held a bruising grip on your huaband’s forearms.

“Work her through it. Don’t stop until she’s twitching,” Anthony encouraged. Joe was a good student. He didn’t stop until you were gasping and trying to pull your hips away from him. It was too good; it felt like electricity moved through your body. He finally relented, removing himself from you, but there was a shine in his eyes that said something had moved within him. 

The room fell into silence as they allowed you to recover. Your body felt numb as the aftershocks coursed through you. Sweat covered your brow and you melted into the body holding you. A soft kiss to your temple brought you back yourself and you let out a soft sigh.

“You did so good, baby,” more kisses followed. “But I’m not done with you yet,” his voice fell lower. “There’s a lot for us to show Woller, no?” His lips traveled down and kissed along your neck. 

“That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Joe spoke up, which earned a weak laugh from you. He still kneeled on the floor and you ran your fingers through his soft hair. 

“You did a great job, Joey. You’re a fast learner,” You sat up with support from the man behind you and felt your blood pressure equalize. 

“I have an idea,” the voice from behind you said. That was always a dangerous set of words coming from Anthony. It meant you were barely going to make it through the night. Of course, you could always tap out or use your safe word, but the arousal that had been temporarily satiated now began to grow again. “Lay back on the bed, baby,” Anthony helped you move from him to lay back against the pillows rested against the headboard. 

“You gotta warm her up before you fuck her, Joe. Use your fingers,” Just like he became a mentor on ice, he was now helping his teammate in a different way. His words were commanding and it sparked something within you. Joe was so eager to please and listened, that the idea of tying him up and having your way with him flashed through your mind. Maybe you could do this again sometime and see if it was something he would like. 

For now you came back to the present moment, watching the two men stand at the edge of the bed. Joe stepped forward, stroking your thighs and ghosting around the area you wanted him to touch this most. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Please,” you sighed, opening your legs for him and inviting him in. He climbed on the bed to hover over you and kissed you deeply. You moaned into his mouth when his fingers swept through your cunt, collecting the juices on his fingers before sliding a finger inside of you. His touch was unsure, like he didn’t know how to move his fingers, so he settled for pumping them in and out of you slowly. He added a second finger that slid in easily with how wet you were.

It wasn’t bad, just nothing special. It was clear he was working on auto-pilot and wasn’t paying much attention to what worked for you because he didn’t know. He needed a little extra help. 

“Anthony,” you beckoned your husband over to give him some guidance. You could tell Joe what to do, but you wanted the other man’s hands on you and it was sexy when he took control. He joined you both on the bed and watched as Joe worked over you. 

“Can I help you, Joe?” he asked, this time softer. He didn’t want the other man to feel inadequate, but wanted rather to guide him. 

“Am I doing something wrong?” He looked between the both of you. You didn’t want his confidence to waver.

“Just need some tips,” Anthony mussed Joe’s hair and it was a moment of sweet vulnerability between the men that reminded you that they were close friends. Anthony turned his attention to you, taking his two forefingers and dipping them into your mouth to wet them. You felt Joe’s fingers still inside of you as he watched the erotic scene unfolding. You suckled on the digits, weaving your tongue between them and staring up at your lover. He removed his fingers from your mouth, a string of spit connecting the two of you for a moment before it split. 

His fingers caressed underneath Joe’s before slowly pushing in alongside them. The stretch was almost too much and your hands found Anthony’s forearm, holding him still as you adjusted. The sight of both of them hovering over you, filling you to the brim, was pornographic. Instead of having to take turns, they now worked together on you. You nodded at them to begin moving as your walls stretched to accommodate them together. 

“You don’t just want to move in and out. Curl your fingers. Like this,” You felt Anthony’s larger digits guide Joe’s. With each thrust of their fingers, they curled together to brush the soft spot inside of your eyebrows furrowed, your mouth dropping open in ecstasy.

“Fuck that’s it, baby,” Joe breathed out. The instant change left him aching to replace his fingers with his cock. It was becoming painful and he hoped you’d let him bury his length inside you before the night ended. The pet name didn’t bother Anthony - it happened in emotional times like this, and he knew how much pet names worked for you. 

Your hips began to move in tandem with them, angling yourself whenever their fingers curled to match the rhythm and grind down on them. This was a completely new experience and your second orgasm was creeping closer. 

“You can do this, too, but it might be too much right now. She’s all filled up,” Anthony’s fingers scissored inside of you and you cried out at the stretch as Joe followed suit. 

“Shit, shit, shit. Sooooo good,” Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. You whined as one set of fingers left your cunt, leaving you feeling emptier than you would have liked.  A low buzz caught your attention, and you opened your eyes to see Anthony pulling one of your favorite vibrators from the bedside table. 

“Don’t want to leave any part of you neglected,” Anthony climbed back onto the bed and kissed you deeply before pulling back. His fingers joined Joe’s once again, followed by the deep vibration pressed directly to your clit. The moan that ripped from your mouth filled the room. 

The men resumed their movement, their fingers hitting the spot deep inside of you combined with the vibration of the toy pressed directly to your bundle of nerves. Your vision went white as your second orgasm hit like a truck. You left your body as the pleasure consumed every part of you, much stronger than the first. Only once you were whimpering and weakly batting at the arm that held the vibrator against you did they pull away. 

Your chest heaved as you laid boneless on the bed, waiting to return to yourself. Anthony laid next to you and pressed soft kisses along your face. You pawed at Joe’s hand, weakly trying to pull him to you as well. He obliged eagerly, his arms resting over your waist. 

“You got one more in you, baby?” Your husband murmured into your ear.

As tired as you felt, you knew that you were the only one that came so far, and the want to satisfy them outweighed the heaviness settling into your bones. 

You nodded into the warmth of your husband’s chest, placing weak kisses there. 

“Good girl. Bend over the bed. Joe can lay here and watch before it’s his turn,” he gave you one last kiss before getting up. You scooted to place your feet on the carpeted floor and bent over the duvet, resting yourself there so you could watch as Joe once again took himself in his hands and twisted his hands around his cock. 

Anthony settled behind you, a singular smack echoing around the room followed by his hand smoothing over the stinging skin. His strong hand held onto your hips as he guided his length through your folds, collecting the excessive wetness there before slowly pushing into you. 

He always filled you so perfectly, stretching you so that you molded around him. A deep groan fell from him as he finally seated himself fully within you. There was nothing better than sinking into your heat and feeling you tight around him. 

“So fucking good. So tight around me. This pussy was made for me, huh?” He punctuated each sentence with a long thrust, pulling himself out and then slamming back into you. His hips hit your ass with each move, pushing you further onto the bed. Even if you brought other people in often, it was clear who you belonged to at the end of the day. 

“Fuck, just for you,” your hands fisted into the sheets as he set a brutal pace. He pulled you back onto him every time his hips moved forward and the sound of slapping skin filled the room. Even after both of them fingering you and stretching you out, he was always almost too big for you. It turned you on that he had to work you open and split you with his length. You would never grow tired of the feeling of him pounding into you.

“You gonna let Joey fuck you after this?”

“Please,” you gasped as he angled his hips and abused the soft spot within you. He could tell he was hitting all the right spots and slowed his thrusts to drag against your walls. He knew if you came again, it would be your last and he wanted Joe to have his turn. With much reluctance, he pulled away from you, leaving you cold and empty. 

“Go on then, sweetheart. He’s waiting,” he smoothed his hand over the handprint on your ass once more before pulling away completely. You scrambled to climb on the bed and fill yourself again, missing the feeling of being filled. You muscles ached and you knew you’d be sore in the morning, but it was all worth it. 

You climbed on top of Joe, grinding yourself down on him and sliding his dick through your pussy. He was already moaning, and you knew after all this waiting that he was not going to last. You took him in your hand, swiping once more through your heat before sinking down on him. 

He wasn’t as long or thick as Anthony, but he still filled you nicely, hitting different spots than the other man. You bottomed out on him, quickly moving to grinding down on him. The sounds spilling from his lips were beautiful as he watched where your bodies connected, pulling himself out of you before you sunk back down. 

His hands dug into your hips and you wondered if bruises would bloom there in the morning.

“Touch her, Joe,” Anthony prompted. He fisted himself watching the love of his life get off on his teammate. Joe’s hand dropped to your clit, rubbing quick circles around the puffy, swollen skin. 

“Oh, shit. Don’t stop,” you moaned. You wanted to give it right back to him. “Fuck, that pussy feel good, J? You’ve been so good. You deserve this, don’t you, baby?”

His thrusts were growing faster and sloppier, and it was a race to see who would come first. His mouth hung open as he concentrated on chasing his high and making sure you followed after.

“You wanna fill me up?” You said putting the last bit of your energy into meeting each of his thrusts and bearing down on him. His head fell back to the pillows as he whimpered. 

“Please let me come in you,” his teeth were grit as he tried to hold on long enough for you to give him the go ahead, but he was quickly unraveling. 

“I want you to, Joey. Wanna come with you and have you fill me. Please,” you squeezed down on him as he swiped his thumb over your clit. His head was cloudy and he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Your hips stuttered as your last orgasm of the night washed over you, your walls spasming around him and pushing him over the edge. His hips hit once, twice more before he buried himself in your and filled you with his hot come. Your moans chorused with one another as you let the pure pleasure consume you. 

There was only one person left in the room who hadn’t come yet, and you knew exactly what he wanted. Removing yourself softly from Joe and feeling the mixture of your releases drip down your legs, you climbed off the bed to kneel once more in front of your husband. The hand around his length quickened as you waited, your mouth open and tongue sticking out to catch his come. His blue eyes held yours as he pumped himself, his hand twisting and squeezing. Seeing you so ready and willing below him burned in his lower stomach and his face scrunched as he felt the release building.

He came with a deep groan, your own hand reaching to cover his and milk his cock, feeling the warm semen hit your cheeks and tasting the bitter substance on your tongue. You leaned forward to take him in your mouth gently, cleaning off the rest of the white liquid that dripped from him. 

He left you for only a moment, returning with a warm, wet washcloth to wipe down your face. You smiled up at him as he took care of you. The heavy atmosphere has dissipated and his soft, warm self had returned. He scooped you up easily from the floor and transferred you back to the plush bed, making sure to wipe gently between your legs to clean you off. 

You laid between the two men - the room quiet and smelling of sex. You were all tired and satiated. You could talk about the details later, discuss feelings and whether or not something like this would happen again. For now, you were content with laying between them, their body heat radiating and keeping you warm. Anthony’s arm wrapped around your waist to hold you close as you drew shapes absentmindedly into Joe’s bicep.

“Feel free to stay the night, Joe,” you murmured as the exhaustion finally hit you and you began to drift off. “I make a mean pot of coffee…”

[imnotjaesblog]

Dear Father For I Have Sinned

Starring: Na Jaemin (Appearances by Mark, Haechan, and Jaehyun).

Demon Jaemin x afab reader

Warnings: Smut, Demon Summoning, Dom Jaemin, Seemy dom/Sub reader, Jaemin bites the reader, Jaemin is rough with the reader, Oral F.m receiving, God & Devil are mentioned. Slight Agnst.

Words: 7k

MINORS DO NOT READ OR INTERACT!!!

First Halloween Post :)

Enjoy;)

"I don't think this is a good idea," you said from where you sat in your friend's room. You sat furthest away on the carpet from the other three. The lights were turned completely off. The only light coming from freshly lit candles around the room. The curtain by the window pulled back. The window opened a crack allowing the cool Autumn breeze to flow through. From the window, you could hear children walking up and down the street traveling door to door trick-or-treating.

Then there was you. Spending your Halloween dressed up as a mouse with the rest of your friends while your best friend Yuri was a cat. You sat farthest from her. Arms crossed over your chest as you watched the other two set up the room. Yuri set up the Ouija board. This is where you spent the start of your Halloween—just sitting and waiting for them to finish so you could go to the party.

They had ignored your protest all day. During class, your friend had the idea of purchasing an Ouija board. She spoke more about once all of you met up. The other two agreed not thinking much of the board, joking about the consequences rather than fearing them.

However, you had no intention of testing fate nor containing anything that wasn't living. Sure, you took part in Halloween. The parties, the dressing up, even watching horror films. But at the end of the day, it was all fake. And even if you didn't believe the board would work, you didn't want to take the chance.

Your friends whined at your hesitance to take part in the game.

"Girl don't worry. I did my research," she said failing to convince you. You scoffed, "That's exactly why I'm saying no," you said shaking your head. "This is just your new obsession of the week. And whether something speaks to you or not. I want no part in it, Yuri," you said. Your efforts fell when your boyfriend walked through the door with his friend.

He walked over to you confused look seeing you far away from your friends. He sat beside you. "You okay?" he asked. You brushed it off. "I'm fine," you said a bit annoyed. Since you spoke out against the game you could feel the tension between you and the girls. Definitely view you as a downer. It wouldn't be the first time they made you feel weird for not picking what they wanted to do. Maybe it was time for new friends.

"Mark convince your girlfriend to play," your friend started again teasing a smile on her lips. You huffed sending her an annoyed expression. She ignored it keeping her eyes on Mark. Mark sighed turning to you with a shrug. "It could be fun," he attempted. You rolled your eyes moving from him to sit on the edge of her bed arms over your chest.

She clicked her teeth, "Whatever," she said turning to the others. Hushering them to come closer. They complied, all placing two fingers on the planchette. You sent a warning look to Mark. He looked over from you and at Yuri. She smiled at him. He sighed before placing two fingers on it. You rolled your eyes crossing your legs over the other.

"Wendy you ask first," Yuri nudged her. Wendy's eyes widened. "What. Why me?" she asked hint of panic in her voice. Yuri huffed forcing a smile "Because out of all of us, you had the most emotional baggage so the spirit is more likely to talk to us," she said nonchalantly. Wendy gasped but wasn't shocked. Yuri spoke like this on a regular.

Wendy instead brushed off the hurtful comment. Holding back her own tears as she let out a breath. "Hello, is there anyone who would like to speak to us?" she asked looking around the room. The others watched the bored. The planchette didn't move. But it was only for a second. You had almost missed it, being that you were watching your phone. However, the unified gasp caught your attention.

You looked over seeing the planchette shift to yes. A few of them had a shocked expression on their faces. Soon turning into excited nerves. Yuri cleared her throat. "Are you a boy or a girl?" she asked. The planchette sat for a second before it spelled out man. Yuri ooed almost teasing the spirit.

"Are you hot?" she asked if the party we were attending tonight was not being held by her boyfriend. The planchette shifted spelling out ridiculously. They all chuckled, and you sneered turning away. You were sure Haechan was just moving it to be a dick.

Yuri readjusted herself. Flipping her hair back to expose more of her cleavage. Pursing her lips. Wendy went to ask the spirit another question but Yuri stopped her. "Not your turn," she snapped. Wendy closed her mouth. Karina from beside her spoke softly. "But you just went," she stated. Yuri sent her a glare. "Was I talking to you?" she asked.

"Anyways," she said shaking off her frustrations. "Spirit do you think I'm pretty?" she asked confidently sure the spirit had a thing for her. The planchette moved to no. She scoffed, Haechan taking the chance to laugh. Wendy and Karina hid their giggles. She shifted now slightly uncomfortable. "It's probably because you like said girls right?" she asked noticing Wendy covering her smile. "Pathetic girls like Wendy?" she asked.

The planchette didn't move for a second until it responded No. Then it proceeded to spell out bed. They all looked over at you. You weren't even paying attention. You didn't look over until the silence became odd to you. Feeling their eyes on you. "What?" you asked.

"Spirit has a thing for you," Haechan said. You flipped him off turning back to your phone.

"Are you evil?" Haechan asked. Everyone eyed him. He shrugged, "What we're all thinking it. What if this guy is some weird killer demon," He said quickly. The planchette began to move. Spelling out "Not weird, or a killer," he wrote. They all gasped. "He's a demon though," Karina stated. Yuri huffed, "Good job you can read," she spat at Karina. Karina put her head down.

"Well if it's a demon," you began from the bed. "Can it take Yuri?" you asked in the direction of the board. "You'd be doing us all a favor," you said with a smile. Yuri gasped, "Who do you think you're talking to right now?" she asked two fingers still remaining on the planchette. You chuckled, "You think I'm scared of you? Yuri please don't tell me you find yourself to be that interesting you think people are scared of you," you bit back a sarcastic smile on your lips.

Yuri was getting embarrassed. Her face turned bright red. The planchette moved spelling out "HAHAHA" assuming it was laughing at what you said. Wendy snickered from where she sat. Yuri went to call her out but you stopped her.

"Wendy laughed harder honestly what is the worst thing Yuri gonna do? Not be your friend?" you asked her phone resting in your hand, dangling around as you spoke. Yuri huffed slamming her free hand on the Orcale. Causing the board to shake.

"Honestly I don't know why you keep talking," she began angry manner shifting to a more mischievous feeling. She turned her body slightly to you. "Do you think I invited you here because I want to hang out with you? Or because we're friends," she scoffed out a smile exposing her top teeth. She faked and pouted at you keeping her gaze strong with you.

"I only invite you so I can see your boyfriend," she said letting out a sigh that sent a shudder down your spine. She looked over at Mark teasing a smile on her black lipstick-covered lips. "Right Mark?" she asked expecting no verbal response to confirm what you always felt to be true. Mark shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He barely looked at you. She turned back to you with a condescending smile.

You stood up from the bed ready to take them both. But before you could one after the other the candles went out. You looked down at the board. You gasped out a laugh. Yuri confused sent you a glare. "So much for your research," you pointed at her foolishness. She looked down with wide eyes. She had removed her fingers.

You saw the slight fear in her eyes. Especially when the planchette moved creating a figure eight on the board. Yuri panicked standing up away from the board. "Stop!" she shouted. "Stop it," they all let go and the planchette stopped moving. Everyone looked at one another both shocked and scared.

They all blamed Haechan for moving the planchette. But that was just to make them feel some soft comfort about the fact that deep down, they all knew they didn't move that planchette. You walked out of the room. Wendy and Karina followed behind you. They came to your side.

"Where are we going?" Karina asked taking hold of your arm. Wendy came to your other side. "Are you okay girl?" she asked making you remember the fact Mark cheated on you with Yuri. You couldn't even say you were surprised. You had seen the long stares and touches over the last couple of weeks. You just finally had the confirmation you needed.

You brushed the desperate girls off. "I'm fine," you said back. Wendy frowned. "Well we're here for you," she said with a sad smile. Karina nodded standing beside Wendy on the sidewalk. She lifted her head with a smile. "We can go to my place and watch movies," she said. Wendy looked over at her brows furrowing. "How could you watch any scary movie after that board," she said feeling the same feeling of dread appear in the pit of her stomach.

Karina nodded, "You're right. We should watch something funny instead," she suggested to both Wendy and you. You shook your head no. "I think I'll pass. Besides aren't you two supposed to be making sure Yuri is okay," You said trying to leave. Karina shook her head. Wendy scoffed. "Yuri is the worst," she said as if it was normal for her. It took you by surprise, it even took her off her balance.

"That felt good to say," she said with a proud smile. Color forms back in her cheeks. You paused for a moment. A smirk forms on your lips. You titled your head bit. "Do you two still want to go to the party?" you asked. They thought about it for a moment. They smiled but then Wendy's smile fell. "Yuri will be there," she pointed out color fading again.

"So?" you raised a brow. You stepped in between the two wide-eyed girls. "Who is she to stop us from having fun?" you asked. The two nodded coming to your side and linking arms as you made your way to Jaehyun's Halloween party. Not noticing your shadow shift from yours to a much taller figure with horns.

After a few more long blocks you reach the decorated frat house infested with drunk college students all shit-faced on the lawn. You walked up to the path leading to the door. Jaehyun had seen you from across the sea of people in the living room. He made his way to your loud smile on his lips and a red solo cup in his hands. Dressed up as poorly put together mummy.

"What's up ladies," he greeted. You had no control over the eye roll. Jaehyun was so sleazy, a perfect match for Yuri. Karina batted her eyelashes at him twirling her hair. You watched her confused. "Really?" you asked truly unsure as to why someone as beautiful as her would find him hot. She broke from her daze letting her long hair fall.

You looked back at Jaehyun. "Where's the alcohol?" you asked. Jaehyun scoffed with a smirk. He raised his brow in a way men think is cute. "Bored of me already?" he teased leaning closer to you. You could smell the bear off him like cheap cologne. You brought your hand up scrunching your nose. Creating a wall between the two of you. "Aw," he pouted. "It's okay girl," he said with a shrug. He took a sip of his drunk stumbling a bit. "I'll find you later," he winked pointing in the direction of the kitchen.

You three walked past him. He kept his stare on you, mainly on your ass.

The party was actually fun. You had spent the last hour here bumping to the music with your new reinvented trio having a good time. You took off your mouse ears while dancing. Jaehyun took this as his chance to make his way to you. He picked up the ears placing them on your head from behind.

"Guess who?" he asked. You instantly felt nauseated by the sound of his voice. You turned around to face him disgusted look on your face. He just smirks smugly standing there proud of himself. "Why did you take off the ears? They look so cute," he flirted attempting to get closer to you. You stepped back, "Ew," you couldn't help but breathe out. He didn't take the rejection and instead came closer the toilet paper around his body falling to the ground.

"Jaehyun," you tried to reason. "You have a girlfriend," you said in an attempt to get him to leave you alone. He shrugged taking a final swig of his drink. He tossed it to the side. "She's not here right now. And besides, I like you," he said leaning in to kiss you. You panicked letting your body take control. You felt your arm pull back and then forward fast. You blinked and there Jaehyun was holding his nose.

"You fucking bitch," he held his nose. A few of his guys rushed to him. A few other staring as well. The music continued to bump loudly surrounding the house. People around you continued to dance, too drunk or lost in the hot feelings to turn to the scene around them. You took this as your chance to flee.

As you quickly escaped you dropped your ears down the path to exit the frat house.

You had finally made it to your apartment. Your phone constantly buzzing with messages from Karina and Wendy. A few even coming from Mark. You let the girls know you went home. You ignored Mark's messages.

You took your shoes off feeling the start of a headache form. You rubbed your temples as you further walked into your home. You made your way to the fridge searching for a water bottle. You eventually found one pulling it out and closing the door.

You took a sip feeling a chill. You didn't think much of the sudden change of temperature being just in the fridge and then drinking the cold water. Your apartment felt colder the more you walked out of the kitchen. You shuddered at the chill seeing your breath in the air as it escaped your lips.

"When did it get so cold?" you questioned out loud. It was 70 degrees outside. Yet in your apartment, it felt below 0. It makes you pay more attention to the darkness of your home. All the lights turned off, and the apartment appeared darker due to the night sky. The moonlight barely covers an inch of your place.

You walked over to your bedroom with the idea of the heater not being on. The chill still confused you but maybe it was just the course of the night making you overthink.

You took off your costume grabbing a few clothes to change into. Making your way to the shower. You turned the water on the steam rising finally giving you some sort of warmth. You are half awake and partly drunk. You didn't notice the handprint on the glass shower door.

You stepped out of the shower wrapped in a towel. You rubbed your eyes. Whipping away at the mirror. You checked out your skin. Groaning at how tired you looked. Until you felt your heart jump. Shrieking in fear at the image of a man standing behind you with a smirk. You turned quickly not seeing him anymore. You turned back to the mirror whipping away at the steam and seeing nothing but yourself.

Your heart continued to race. Breathing heavily your chest quickly rose and fell. You touched your face, your other hand holding your towel over your chest trying to calm yourself down. You shook your head turning to leave once you controlled your breathing. You told yourself it was just Halloween and freaky things always happened on Halloween and that tomorrow everything would be back to normal.

You turned to leave stepping on someone's foot. You quickly looked up seeing the same man from the mirror standing tall in front of you. You gasped almost falling to your knees. You ran around him busting the bathroom door open. You scrambled making eye contact with your door. You ran over to your bed to get there quickly. However, the lock clicked on your door. You tried to yank it open. Banging on the door, furiously turning the knob and kicking the bottom.

You felt every hair on your body rise knowing your door was only locked from the inside. You tried to turn the lock but it wouldn't move. Stuck in place. The man emerged from the bathroom letting out a low deep chuckle before he stepped onto your bedroom floor.

He watched as you tried and failed to escape. He made his way to your bed holding onto the end of the frame. He crossed one leg over the other waiting for you to give up. You turned briefly feeling extremely cold again. Your eyes widened seeing him.

"Please let me go," you begged. "I won't tell anyone," you pleaded still gripping tightly onto the door knob. He chuckled shaking his head. He reached into his black jacket pulling out your mouse headband. He ticked his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

"Didn't your mother tell you that these were meant to protect you?" he asked. You were too busy fearing for your life to read between the lines of his words. You scanned your face. He closed his jacket leaning off the frame walking to lean more comfortably by your desk. He sat down in your black rowly chair.

"Protect me?" you asked chest still rising up and down. Your body is still wrapped in a towel. Water droplets fall onto the wooden floor. He dropped the ears onto the floor sliding them near you. "Everyone knows costumes hide you from us," he said a second voice appearing as he spoke smoothly morphing into one then two. A much more sinister voice than the human one he spoke with.

"Us?" you asked coming to the frightening conclusion that this person was not a person. He nodded, "Costumes on All Hallows Eve shield those from evil. It's why I couldn't touch you in that girl's bedroom. Nor could I speak to that excuse of a man at that horrible party. Is that really what you all do for fun?" he asked. You still held onto the door knob not trusting this stranger. He didn't seem like he wanted to hurt you but that doesn't mean he still wasn't dangerous.

"You seem confused," he said grabbing hold of your attention. He let out a sigh crossing one leg over the other. "Wear it," he motioned to the ears. You eyed them but didn't reach for them. He huffed annoyed and growing bored with your fear. "I'm not going to hurt you. Unless that's what you're into," he smirked dark clouds swimming in his eyes.

You cautiously let your grip loosen from the door knob. Hesitantly reached for the ears. You watched him as you grabbed them. He stood still the entire time. Once you held them he raised his hand. "Put them on," he spoke softly second voice appearing again. You sucked in a breath slowly placing them on your head close your eyes for just a moment, a simple blink and he was gone.

You gasped seeing the stranger was gone. You looked around searching for him. He smiled, he was still there. You just couldn't see him. He looked over at your desk finding a notebook. He lifted it clicking a pen. He wrote the note throwing it at your feet. You had walked further into the room not realizing where you were standing. You picked up the note crumbling the paper.

"Still Here," it read. "You look so pretty in white" he teased in his note. You jumped ripping the ears off and seeing you were standing right between his spread legs.

"Those things," he motioned to the ears. "They're so annoying," he said spoke tiredly. He snapped his fingers setting the grey mouse ears on fire. Once they burned to ash the fire stopped. He waved the ash away, out of existence, before he leaned closer to you. "There you see that's much better," he said words hissing out of his mouth and slipping from his lips like poison. And you couldn't even lie. The man or whatever he was, was hot.

He noticed the change in your stare. Your pupils slowly become wide with curiosity. He allowed the curious stare and the inevitable questions to take place after.

"What are you?" you asked feeling yourself, without control, drawing closer to him. He sat back with a devilish smirk on his pink lips. He cocked a brow. "If I tell you will you scream?" he asked a flirtatious undertone in his first voice. His second voice is a whole lot more sisnter sounding. You couldn't tell which voice actually belonged to him.

You sucked in a breath. Fear clouding your thoughts again. "Maybe," you exhaled out. He scanned his eyes up and down your body. Licking his lips. You took a step back remembering you were just in a towel. You gripped onto the white cloth. Almost tripping on a small puddle of water on the floor. The water had dried from your body but still, your hair soaked the ground.

He liked seeing your hair pushed back. "Relax," he spoke calmly. He sighed out a deep breath, "I wouldn't mind if you screamed," he said dark taste on his tongue. You hushed out a shudder. You took a few more steps back. He stood from your chair pushing it in before he made his way to you. You went back to the door holding onto the knob. He hovered over you like a shadow. He leaned down to your level.

"Now to answer your question. I'd hate to keep you waiting," He opened his coat pulling out a cloth. He handed it to you. "You're sweating," he spoke quietly. Your hand shook as you reached for it. Snatching it from him and dipping your face. He smiled satisfied that you took the cloth.

"You know if it makes you feel better," he began as you ran from beside him to the bathroom. You locked the door. He walked his way over. You could see the shadow of his feet from under the door. He leaned against the side of the door, on the wall. You stood behind the door quickly taking the chance to change into your clothes.

"I can't touch you unless you say I can. Ironically, you hold all the power," he said. You could hear the cocky smile on his lips as he spoke. He kept his eyes on the door. He could feel every part of the inside of your body. Your thoughts of fleeing. You had a plan to jump through the window. But the one he danced with. That lingered with his hope you thought for a second to sit on his lap with his legs spread.

"It's a shame honestly," he sighed shifting away. His back against the wall. Head resting back. He closed his eyes for a moment with a hum. "I've been watching. I've seen that poor excuse of a boyfriend of yours attempt to please both you and that fake blonde," he said feeling a pain of jealously at the memories. You widened your eyes coming back to the door. His eyes quickly flicked to your shadow appearing. Pupils became thin as he turned himself to stare. He was winning.

"You watch me?" you asked chest rising and falling. Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. All this time some weird stalker demon was watching you. You wanted to feel sick. You wanted to cover yourself up even more. But couldn't, because deep down seeing that stranger sitting at your desk legs spread made you want to sit right in between them. He was definitely hot. And if you didn't believe the devil, well, he could make you and you'd be okay with that.

He went up to the door. Hands pressed against it. He let out a small sniff smelling your sweet scent. Carnal needs blinding his right judgment. So fresh and clean from the shower you had only moments ago. "I've seen almost everything. Today was like any other. I used to watch other pretty girls until I heard you didn't believe in me. It hurt me at first, staining my ego. But it had been so long since I connected with a human. Demons don't feel the same as humans," he confessed itching to get you out of that bathroom and anywhere he could have you in this room with your permission.

"Demons?" you questioned. He huffed now annoyed but all your stupid questions. This was pointless to him. He couldn't control himself any longer. His desire to be with the human girl he craved was eating him alive like a thousand fleas on a dog. The itch, the need strong enough to break the barrier.

"Yes love," he spoke shakey undertone. He tried to silence the second voice knowing it scared you. "We-I," he began pupils flicking from wide to paper thin. "I am a demon," he said through an exhausted breath. Like he had just run a marathon. It didn't scare you. You had a feeling this was where this was going. He burned your ears with his fingers. It did shock you. There was a demon in your room. You brought your hands to your forehead pulling back gently.

"There is a demon in my room," you whispered to yourself.

"Yes one that is very desperate to be released," he spoke losing the confidence in his voice. "Released?" you asked still freaking out. He nodded head hitting the bathroom door. You jumped at the bang. He shook his head walking away from the door. You watched his feet leave.

"I need you," he spoke through masked pleas. "That is how I was able to come through tonight. That girl who let go of the planchette. If she hadn't I wouldn't have been able to come through. But well done to you for getting her to the point of embarrassment she lost control. It shortened my plan days," he said pleased smile on his lips. The second voice screamed at him to just bust down the door. But he fought against it. He didn't come this far just to scare you into submission. He preferred a more natural way of things. Even if there was nothing natural about him.

"You've been planning this?" you asked a hint of anger in your voice.

"For a year now," he confessed. You still shocked gripped onto the counter. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You took some water splashing your face hoping the cool water would relax you. You shut your eyes letting out a breath and allowing yourself to gather your thoughts.

"You said you needed me. Why?" you asked. He looked over at the door after it had been silent for a few minutes. He could have very easily gone into the bathroom without you noticing but held against it.

"I'm a lustful demon and you are the one I crave," he spoke truthfully charming smile on his lips. Something about him just felt so inviting. You believed every word he said tonight. He spoke so openly about everything he thought and felt. It made you feel a bit better, especially after tonight. He smiled feeling you becoming more trusting of him.

"You know," he began. "With your permission, I can make you feel so much better than your boyfriend," he said calming himself and returning back to his flirtatious nature. You looked up at the door. He walked closer to the door. You could feel his presence inches away from yours. You stepped closer. You trusted his words. It might have been foolish to put such faith in a demon but his wants seemed real.

"What's your name?" you asked.

"Jaemin," he said. Not expecting the door to open he held his head down small smile on his lips. But when the bathroom light became brighter he looked up at you. You felt your chest shudder as you let out a breath.

"Jaemin," you whispered like his name was a beautiful curse.

"I give you permission to touch me," you hushed. He smirked eyes turning completely black. You had no time to react. In a blink, he hovered over you eager hands reaching up to touch you. You flinched at his cool touch. He brought his hand back not wanting to hurt you. You looked into his eyes for the first time tonight. The black faded from his iris turning into a deep brown.

You felt yourself get lost in the dark swirls of his eyes. Taking small steps to close the gap between you and kiss the demon. He kissed your back hand reaching behind your neck. Gripping onto your hot skin pulling you closer to his frame. "I've waited so long for this," he said like a starved man. His mouth fit with yours. Moving in a passionate rhythm.

He pulled away from you. Your eyes still fluttered closed. Lashes dusting your cheeks. You slowly blinked them open. Jaemin already keeping his eyes intensely focused on you. He sucked in a breath. He could feel the heat rise in your body with just a single touch from his hand.

"Now that I've been able to kiss you once I don't think I'll be able to stop, love," he rasped lips burning from yours. His chin was a bright pink. You couldn't pull away from him. Every part of him was so inviting. The danger of this no longer worried you. It thrilled you in ways that terrified you but also excited you.

"So then don't stop," you hushed eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and then back to his eyes. He growled pulling you back in lips engulfing yours. Tongue swiping your bottom lip. His hands slid down your back side grabbing a hand full of your ass. He groaned into the kiss tapping the back of your thigh. You jump hands still wrapped in the locks of his black hair.

Wrapping your legs around his waist he pushed you up against the wall. Your back hit the wall hard. So hard you released from the kiss. Head hitting the wood. It didn't hurt. You let out a yelp of surprise opening your mouth again a small giggle leaving your lips. With your neck exposed he took this as a chance to attack the softness of your skin. Licking and biting parts of your neck.

"Sure you're not a vampire?" you teased. He rolled his eyes scrunching his nose in disgust. "Filthy bloodsuckers," he hissed. He licked his way down to the outline of your breasts just poking out of your tank top. "I prefer to use my mouth to taste other parts of the human body," He sucked just under your collarbone. Freehand that wasn't holding you up reaching up to your top. Greedy hand grabbing hold of the thin fabric. Tearing it off your body. He through the poor excuse for a shirt far off.

Hands wrapping around his neck. Fingers grazing the hair on his skin. He growled at the sounds you made. Mouth meeting yours swallowing all your sounds. He yanked you from off the wall.

"Love," he spoke as he laid you on the bed. "Do you know how agonizing it is to see you here almost every night," he began kissing his way down your chest. Unclipping your bra and tossing it with your shirt. Your hands kept on his shoulders pushing him down. "Watching you try to please yourself and fail. All because of that boy what was his name again?" he thought to pause. He quickly went back addicted to the scent of the wetness forming between your legs.

"It doesn't matter. By tonight I will be the only one you call for," he said carnivorous gaze as stared from below you. His hands came to the string of your shorts. Undoing the knot you created. You watched from above a part of you still trying to make sense of this. But the more you tried erotic images of Jaemin fucking you over your table or completely devouring you in the shower appeared in your mind. So vivid and felt so real it haunted your mind.

Jaemin pulled your shorts down removing them from your ankles. Licking his lips. His tongue formed two. Hot look in his eyes as his pupils thinned. The change was something you barely noticed. To lost in bliss to fear him. To remember how badly he was corrupting your mind, body, and soul.

He licked a stripe up your clothed pussy. You shuddered at the contain. Laying his tongue flat on your soaked clit. He brought his other hand up to spread your thighs further apart. The need to close them feeling so exposed to the demon. You closed them on his head. He spread apart again.

"Stay open for us baby," he spoke second sinful voice appearing. You tried your best too. But Jaemin's tongue so hot and heavy made it impossible. So he waved his fingers two long black vines appearing from under your bed tying around each of your ankles. You widened your eyes but didn't fight against them. They held you open for him. He stood back admiring your body so angelic, divine.

"God created you with love," he complimented. He removed his jacket allowing it to fall to the ground. Rolling up the sleeves of his black blouse and undoing the first few buttons. He fell to his knees shaking his head a bit but unsuccessful in sending in the other voice away. Eyes switch between both patience and animalism. The need to protect you and ruin you.

You watched his eyes change fighting with the demon inside him. Siting up as much as you could fascinated by the sight. Head coming between your legs looking up at you with wide pupils. He didn't want you to see him so monstrous. He kissed the side of your plush thighs. Humming at the warmth of your skin. Leaving a few bite marks. Sucking on the burning skin he bit when you whinced.

He pulled your panties off unable to control the change in his eyes. Dark orbs took control as he lunged forward engulfing your pussy like you were the forbidden fruit he carved so desperately. Long fingers grazing up your thigh. Slithering like a snake as they reached your core. Spreading your folds making it easier for him to collect all your sweet juice in his mouth. Bringing his hand to tease your hole. Swirling around in circles with his index finger. His mouth returned to your erect clit.

Your head fell back in pure ecstasy. Letting out a loud moan as he sucked so well on your clit. Grazing his teeth over the bundle of nerves causing your body to twist and turn. Back arching off the mattress. Jaemin took it upon himself to wave his finger again. Finding the teddy bear Mark once gave you placing it underneath your neck so you'd be more comfortable as he devoured you from below.

Your hand reached down to his shoulder gripping onto it. Fingers finding their way under his black silk blouse. Nails digging into his skin. Dragging them forward to his hair. He groaned into your aching pussy sending a vibration throughout your entire body. Hand trailing through his hair. Grabbing hold tugging at his locks. "Fuck," you cursed rutting your hips forward nose bumping into your clit. Jaemin continued his assault groaning as you road his face. Juice sweeping from down his chin, down his finger that he stuck inside you, and down the mattress.

"You do so well loved. Tell me I'm the only one who can make you feel this way," he spoke darkly hunger in his voice. You could barely form a thought let alone speak. You could only respond with a moan. Jaemin unsatisfied slowed his movements. You whined but he shushed you. He made his way up your body. The coolness of his skin on yours. You opened your eyes feeling his exposed body on top of yours. Cock poking your inner thigh. When he gets undressed you thought.

He smirked finally when your eyes met his. Two of his fingers slowly pump into you. Your lips parted letting out small whines and protest to his slow movements. "Please," you begged. Jaemin nodded moving a hair from your face. "Soon love but just tell me it's only me," he said a simple smile on his lips but a sinful look in his eyes. You gulped the coolness of his body relaxing the heat of yours.

"Only you can make me feel this way Jaemin," you said through pants. He smiled proud of you. He placed a chaste kiss on your lips. He nodded hands sensually roaming around your body. "Good girl," he said voice dropping a thousand octaves. You whined as he removed his fingers.

"It's okay love," he said aligning his dick at your entrance. Tip leaking precum down your inner thigh. Poking at your entrance and running his cock up and down your slit collecting your juice and coaxing himself in it. "I'll take care of you," he spoke watching as his cock pushed through your tight hole. You gripped onto his beefy arm. Feeling the firmness of his muscles. Eyeing his strong frame. Body carved out by a God. You drooled at the sight of him. Pushing his dick deep inside you. Plevis brushing against your clit. His body flexed as he pushed further inside you.

Your wetness flooded out of you and onto his cock making it easier for him to slip in. He began to move not giving you much time to adjust. Fucking into slow finding a rhythm. Once he heard the sound of your moans he picked up his past. Thrusting into your hard hands gripping onto your waist. You kept your hands on the strength of his arms. You moaned loudly his fist coming to either side of your head and drilling into you.

"Please Jaemin," you choked on your moan. Throat pinching as his hips met yours. He growled lost in his own pleasure. Waving his hand to rid of the vines. They slithered away under the bed. Taking his strong hands he flipped you over. Pushing your head into the mattress. Spreading your legs with his knee. Bringing his cock to your red hole. Pushing into your velvet walls fucking into you hard.

"Fuck baby it's like your pussy was made for me," he growled head falling back incomplete Heaven. His hand reaches around to your neck pulling you back. Laying your back against his chest. Hand wrapping around your neck as he pounded from behind. Your head fell back, neck exposed as you rested on his shoulder. He moved some of your hair to the side biting down on your neck. Groaning into your skin. Intoxicating your entire body with sin.

"Fuck Jaemin more," you groaned. Letting out a loud cry when his free hand made his way to your clit. He had you like this for a moment. Feeling you tighten around him he flipped you back around laying you flat. He needed to see your face when you came. You an earthy moan as he fucked into fast still drawing quick circles around your clit.

"Jaemin i'm close," you moaned. He gritted his teeth bringing his hands to your ass. Spreading you opened more and lifting you a bit just to fuck deeper. Graxing over your sweet spot inside you sending you over the edge. Creaming all over his dick. Your release oozes out of you and down his shaft. He let out a deep growl at the sight. Eyes turning completely black. Horns form out of the top of his head. Everything surrounding the two of you lifting. You squeezed tightly around him. To overstimulate to pay attention to the room.

"Fuck baby," he groaned head falling back. "You're all mine. All fucking mine," a predatory growl leaving his lips. As if by painting your insides white he was marking you as his own. So close to climax he pounded harder bringing you to your second climax. Feeling you release again sent him into a spiral. Cumming hard inside you. Hot release squirting inside and outside your pussy. Both yours and his cum mix.

His chest rose up and down. Both of you heaving. He stood like that for a moment before pulling out. He stepped towards his clothes. You sat up seeing the redness around your ankles. You rubbed them wincing a bit. You looked over at you fixing his slacks. "Apologizes love. Sometimes I can be a bit rough," he said walking to your bathroom. You nodded and he stepped inside. After a moment he returned the warm cloth in his hand. Cleaning you up.

He noticed a spot he missed. Leaning instead and licking it clean just inches away from your clit. You shuddered sending him a cautious look. You stood up as well. Walking to your closet and changing your clothes. When you returned he was fully dressed.

"Where are you going?" you asked. He sighed, "Halloween ends in five minutes. I have to go back. I have work to do," he said.

"Work?" you asked. He shook his head. "So many questions," he began as he stepped towards you. "Don't miss me. I'll always be here, watching or in your dreams," he said placing a kiss on your forehead. And if you really want to contact me you can always use the board," he finished. You sighed rolling your eyes and arms crossed over your chest.

He took a step forward unable to resist. Shutting his eyes and placing a kiss on your lips. "And baby," he trailed. "Yes?" you asked eyes locked with his. Loving gaze shifting to something much more sinister.

"If he asks you tell him the Devil made you do it," he spoke poisonous smirk on his lips. A dark chuckle left his lips. Delish smile wide on his pink lips. You blinked and he was gone. Shocked by the sudden realization that he was not a demon but the devil himself every hair on my body rose.

But you hoped God could forgive you for being even more attracted to him than you were before. Being that you were the girl who brought the devil to his knees.

Fin

OMG, I felt such a need to make this. You don't even understand. You guys how do we feel about Devil Jaemin? I love it. This was my Halloween treat. I love Halloween so I had to do this.

Also,

would you like a part 2? I can see this having one.

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Please share and vote also don't forget reblogging is welcomed.

Happy Halloween.

See you soon ;)

[xjulixred45x]

I saw your request were open can I please request a female douma in jjk.

For getou and gojo please her and gojo having the beautiful eyes and cocky attitude and douma and getou and her both owing a cult this idea is living rent free in my head.

Oh lalala~ this is interesting! I'm in!

SatoSugu x Douma Like-Reader

Genre: headcanons

Reader: Female

Warnings: The reader has the past and attitude of Douma from KNY, that is, she has difficulty understanding and expressing emotions. apart from a shady past and is worshiped by a cult. she has rainbow eyes and gray hair, if a reader with a specific appearance bothers you, don't read this. CULTS AND WHAT THEY CONVINCE, The reader and Gojo share a neuron, and they are horrible with their emotions, I think that's all.

Since you were born, you have been the center of attention in your family.

You were born with eyes of all the colors of the rainbow and gray hair. Your family was amazed by this.

Thanks to this, your family believed that they had been blessed by the gods, that YOU had been blessed by the gods and that you could communicate with them, so they started a cult in your name to be able to worship the idea they had of you.

You, being a small and innocent girl, did not understand any of this, but you acted how they wanted you to act to make them happy. You believed that if they were happy, you were happy, right? but you never really understood very well how emotions worked. They never explained it to you or bothered to tell you anything about it.

It was somewhat frustrating but you resigned yourself quickly. You had to maintain the role you had been assigned after all. keep your hope.

but there really wasn't any, you were never able to communicate with the gods…. there really was nothing to have faith in.

but these people were in denial, and would not allow you to give up your position.

Everything got worse when your parents died, your mother murdered your father���and then committed suicide.

you found their corpses.

but the worst of all was that you didn't know how to process the loss of your parents. how you didn't even know how to process your own emotions.

You just thought about how unpleasant the smell of blood was and you replayed the scene over and over in your head.

all while you didn't change your facial expression. smiling, the one that people wanted to see in you, a supposed "saint"

So you adapted that mentality to your daily life, no matter how many lies you have to tell, no matter how many people get hurt because of this--

As long as the believers were happy, maybe one day you would be too. some day…

Until then, Keep smilling, keep make them happy, keep faken up your emotion, maybe if you fake it enough, you will feel something more than this inmense Void.

but at least all this had its good side, you developed your own damn ice technique!

It was powerful enough that the people in charge of you decided that you needed help in managing it.

that's how you ended up at Jujustu Tech.

That's how you met them…

When you first arrived at Jujustu Tech, you attracted a lot of attention. not only because of your carefree attitude but, obviously, because of your appearance. You were fine with that, you were used to it.

but when Geto and Gojo saw you for the first time when they introduced you to their group…WOW they were silent. which was weird in itself.

Gojo, being Gojo, and well recovered from the shock, went up to you and asked if you had contact lenses, even if he could see that you didn't, he HAD to make sure you didn't.

Geto obviously scolded him and apologized on his behalf for his rude comment. But he didn't miss the opportunity to say how beautiful your eyes were.

With these first impressions you could get an idea of ​​what they were like. And honestly? You became friends very quickly.

To be honest, growing up adored by your cult and having a pretty powerful ability, you ended up being quite arrogant, well-meaning, but cocky.

Thanks to this, Gojo was able to connect with you quite quickly, at first with the intention of destroying that ego you had, but it always ended badly in one way or another.

For example, trying to outdo yourself in physical combat seeing that you depended a lot on your ability with ice, it's a piece of cake with his Infinity, right? well…

Both Gojo and Geto made the same mistake when facing you for the first time, UNDERESTIMATING YOU based on your seemingly silly personality.

You turned out to be more skilled than he thought, which cost him almost blinding him when you realized how special his eyes were. Something similar happened with Geto, he wanted to know more in depth about your abilities, but above all, to know if your eyes, similar to Satoru's, had any unusual abilities.

only to have his ass kicked for being distracted by them…

They could respect you from the beginning, they could see that there was something more than a smiling mask in you. a great power.

Although the more they got to know you, the more things came to light and the more they understood you.

You and Gojo could understand each other on the level of having people expect too much of you, things that are not yours and even putting you on a pedestal for that (in your case very literally). Gojo found the whole cult thing very shady when you told them both, but he also found it shady that you didn't understand how that was WRONG.

Geto was the same(at the start), you and he understood each other more on the side of having abilities (in your case appearance) that although "helps people" rather condemns them to a pretty miserable life.

Thanks to this he opened up to you when he was in spiral, he felt that if anyone would understand him, it would be you.

In case we follow the canonical route, you tend to show two faces with each of them, both authentic and part of you, but distant from each other.

With Geto, you show your most morally perverse side, enjoying for the first time your position in the cult, the power you have over the lives of those people, realizing that YOU ARE the one in control.

You and Geto united the cutls, becoming even more powerful and influential, Geto is a loving couple, I'm not going to lie. He continues to pamper you as much as you want, whether physically, materially or emotionally.

The family respects you a lot, not only because of your power, but because they see you as an equal to Geto, the legitimate queen of the new world for sorcerers.

Geto doesn't really agree with watching you fight, and since you yourself are a little lazy to do it, he leaves the part of interacting with the believers to be your strong point.

Despite everything, being with Geto in this case has its disadvantages, and that is that he does not let you get down from that position of power and believe that the rest are better, apart from the fact that he encourages your harmful behavior towards others (that is, he does not let you mature )

Although don't misunderstand me, he will do everything possible to help you understand and experience the emotions that you have been depriving yourself of.

and when you go with Gojo (he and Gojo "divide custody" in this case) you do a 180 degree turn. You show your most happy and carefree side.

With Gojo you feel like there is nothing to worry about, you like that, he is quite relaxed himself.

Similarly to Geto, he spoils you a lot and is a great cuddler. He LOVES having PDA with you, hugs, kisses, snuggles, anything. he loves it.

Gojo directly takes you to therapy for emotions and when you come out and talk to him about your progress he is very happy to see you getting better every day, it seems.

Unlike Geto, he would try to remove the cult's influence from your life by seeing them as primarily responsible for your traumas (along with the death of your parents) and is fiercely protective in that regard.

They know it, you know it, one bad move and they're screwed.

NOW, if we're talking about the AUS where Geto doesn't get corrupted and stays in Jujutsu Tech with Mimiko and Nanako…IT'S ALL FLUFF.

Both are great life partners, mainly because they balance each other and thus you get the best of the best of EVERYTHING.

(i cant write more than this so sorry if its seems cut off im triying to fix it)

[asher-agere]

Ooh Ashh i dreamed about little dazai and cg oda /gen. Now i can't stop thinking about them...

Also i woke up inspired? Maybe i'll try to continue writing my fic :>

Recently i've been thinking about creating a blog more personal to me, tho i'd only use it when using the computer, for some reasons. Then i'd feel comfortable not being on anon all the time hahahha (im shy and anxious all the time </3) what do ya think? I have sooo many headcannons about bsd, i think the blog would be just for them...

Love ya! -🦭

(Talking about anon stuff, if this isn't in anon mode, please ignore it... i say this because recently i had an ask of mine answered (not from you!) and it wasn't on anon mode and ot kinda freaked me out a bit hahahah)

I’VE BEEN WANTING TO RESPOND TO THIS ONE FOR SO LONG. FOR SO MANY REASONS? For starters baby Dazai and caregiver Odasaku is one of my favorites. They’re one of the few cases I actually view as a solid parental bond rather than the caregiver just being a vague role. Plus you should absolutely make a personal blog! Cause that means I can support you and interact with you more! Plus we always need more BSD agere content. Also an ask not in anon mode must’ve been so scary… Hopefully nothing bad came from it? (That’s also another reason supporting personal blog :^)

Little Dazai + Caregiver Odasaku

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₊ ⊹ These two have known each other since Dazai was 14, Odasaku has seen first hand that Dazai was forced to grow up way too fast. And well. He’s always had a soft spot for kids. Dazai is no different. Dazai regresses to 2-5, which is just a bit younger than the orphans Odasaku takes care of! I don’t remember exactly what age he took the orphans in at but surely he dealt with them when they were at least somewhat in that age range, so he’d got experience! With Dazai’s age range specifically! This makes him even better at taking care of Dazai!

₊ ⊹ Odasaku is a writer! You know what that means? All the bedtime stories ever! He writes his own bedtime stories to read to Dazai, he’ll turn Dazai’s babbling tales into a story, Dazai can even help him write! A lot of the time Dazai just wants to hear his caregivers voice, he doesn’t care what’s being said, so Odasaku will just talk about some writing ideas he’s had! Dazai is happy to supply his ideas! Odasaku tones them down a bit of course, and doesn’t always use them (Cats with laser eyes don’t really fit into a story about pirates… But maybe a pirate ship can have a cat aboard)

₊ ⊹ I think Odasaku has tried before to let Dazai play with his orphans, he thought it would be a good idea! But… Dazai gets overwhelmed really easily, especially while he’s regressed. Not to mention jealousy and all those other yucky emotions! Odasaku is his. Just his. Plus what if these kids think he’s weird? They wouldn’t of course, Odasaku didn’t raise them to be judgmental. But still… And he’ll lash out with bites or hitting if he gets to overwhelmed! Needless to say that’s a play date that only happens once

₊ ⊹ Lashing out is a common thing with Dazai. Most babies have the instinctive reaction to cry when things go wrong, Dazai learned very young that crying doesn’t help you. Fighting does. He feels bad after of course! He never wants to hurt Odasaku! But Odasaku reassures him that it’s ok! He never uses a harsh tone, always just gently reminds Dazai “We don’t hurt” If Dazai is so overwhelmed he won’t listen to reason though a swaddle is the solution! Wrap him up nice and tight in a blanket so he can’t move much, a pacifier in his mouth so he can’t bite or scream, then they stay like that until Dazai wears himself out! He never got a chance to show his true emotions. So if a tantrum is how he chooses to express those emotions of course Odasaku allows him to get it all out

₊ ⊹ Nicknames!! Odasaku uses the sweetest pet names for his baby, and everything sounds so poetic when he says it! “Sweetheart” is definitely a big one, but he can’t be to sweet with pet names or Dazai gets defensive, so he’ll also use more casual ones like “Buddy”! There’s also “Little One” but that has to be used carefully! Only when Dazai is right on the edge of regressing, usually when he’s a little worn out and less likely to fight it. And then of course! What does Dazai call Odasaku? I view them as a father son relationship because. Even regression aside I view them that way. Regression just makes it feel even cozier. So I think Dazai calls him “Da”. He’s trying to say “Oda” But to many syllables… Odasaku points out that it sounds like “Dada” and Dazai denies it if course! But… That’s his “Da” he stops even trying to say “Oda”

₊ ⊹ I think that when Dazai’s in more of a toddler headspace they play a lot of card games! It’s very nostalgic for them considering they played a lot of card games when they first met. Like a lot a lot. It was how they bonded! Of course Dazai always calls Odasaku out on cheating, in response Odasaku calls out Dazai’s clumsy attempts at hiding cards up his sleeve. Dazai of course denies this, and Odasaku denies his own cheating. This usually leads to Dazai pouting, but nothing on tantrum level! Just upset he isn’t getting his way. Odasaku tried betting with candy before but the Dazai takes it to serious and it does ends in a tantrum

₊ ⊹ Dazai is weird with food, he’s noted to be underweight, especially in Mafia Era (The only time Odasaku was alive) Baby Dazai only drinks milk or formula. No solid foods. He’s a baby through and through. However toddler Dazai plays a silly game with Odasaku! He requests specific ways for all his food to be poisoned and Odasaku says he does it! For example if Dazai requests a poisonous flower, Odasaku takes a harmless flower and puts it in the dish in front of Dazai! Odasaku has to make his own food separate though to keep up the illusion. Dazai refuses to let Odasaku eat the ‘poisoned’ food

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

This was supposed to be up way earlier, but where I live there’s no power. Anywhere- On the entire island- So that’s fun. So posting might be slow the next couple of days. But I finished this while my parents were using the generator! So yay! Also I keep bring inbox notifications but then there’s nothing there… Kinda weirded out

[iscopeeee]

dumping a bunch of baldi's basics handcanons yay

mainly NULL and Baldi but a couple others as well (mostly under a cut because this turned out way longer than i thought it would be)

NULL;

aroace, accepts any pronouns, gender apathetic. basically this

experiences chronic pain and chronic fatigue as a result of his corruption. sometimes feels phantom pains where his arms should be

also experiences brain fog and memory issues from the corruption, which contributes to his rambling speaking pattern.

is completely blind out of his right eye, left eye is ok

even without the brain fog he's just very Not Good at communicating I think. they're definitely the type to ramble on for hours and go on a bunch of tangents and still leave you with no idea what they're talking about

can't eat because well. no mouth. luckily he doesn't really need to eat to live because its videos game but that banana on the desk has been taunting him for years

can somehow still pick things up despite not having any hands. maybe he has sort-of invisible arms homestar runner style? don't question it

not really a headcanon as such but i prefer writing his name in all caps (NULL) like in the title of NULL style because i think its swaggy

can't remember her "real" name from before it was corrupted and left him with NULL. can't really remember much at all from before the corruption, actually. Tries not to think about it. (keep bottling those emotions up NULL, nothing bad could possibly happen :DDDD )

doesn't hate Baldi and the others exactly, but definitely holds some sort of resentment for them being granted "freedom" in a way he doesn't have. generally doesn't think about them much and considers them less important ("i'm smarter than baldi") because they aren't entirely "real". also pities some of them in a way. his feelings are very conflicted and complicated

very low empathy, high compassion. struggles to understand others emotions/perspectives and can be kind of blunt and insensitive, but genuinely cares a lot about the player's safety and doesn't want what happened to him to happen again

would probably swear but can't - the game stops him. thats why he keeps saying shit like "jeepers" instead

Baldi!!!! :D

he/him bi trans man

obviously his super hearing is well known, but i think his eyesight is a bit below average. he needs to wear cute little half-moon reading glasses like homer simpson when grading his students' papers

has misophonia something fierce because of his sensitive hearing. someone get this man some noise cancelling headphones stat

autistic - special interests are mathematics and engineering. wanted to be an inventor as a kid but unfortunately there isn't much of a market for 2 metre tall "math machines" so he studied to become a math teacher instead

the way his mouth breaks and clips in on itself when he frowns - i think this is because his model literally wasn't built to be able to frown. he's a silly goofy teacher from a kid's edutainment game, why would he ever need to make any expression other than smiling? i think he has problems with feeling like he isn't "allowed" to feel any emotion other than happiness and tries to bottle up any and all negative emotion in favour of constant overbearing positivity, which leads to his angry outbursts when he can't hold it in anymore (maybe he and NULL have something in common after all...)

kinda stealing borrowing this from this post by @/quantitative4rts but baldi definitely loses his speech when he's upset, particularly when sad or angry. he "can't allow himself" to speak negatively and struggles to find words when overwhelmed so he just says nothing. this is why he is completely silent when chasing the player despite being very talkative otherwise

kinda bad at spelling and grammar. makes lots of typos when writing. if he ever needs to write any important paperwork the principal has to proofread and correct it for him every time

dating both the principal and dr. reflex. baldi has two hands

body is made out of a kind of hard plastic - joints and other moving parts are a softer, more rubbery material. has no internal organs - if you cut his torso open it would just be full of #FF0000 red paint

the player/the user

tbh i have two different "versions" of the player in my mind. first is the player as a character - a curious and naive young child who goes to here school to learn math, which i usually represent with the fanon brown hair teal clothes design. then there's the user, which is literally just a direct representation of the real person playing the game - i use the capsule collider for this.

the player is they/them nonbinary. the user's identity constantly changes based on who is currently playing the game. thousands of people could be occupying the user's body at once.

how do these two different versions coexist? they dont! but also do. Don't question it

the user has no personality or identity outside of the person/people controlling it. it's literally just an untextured cylinder whose purpose is to provide people with a way to interface with the game. it is an empty husk with no agency of its own.

the player has dyscalculia, which is abstractly represented by the jumbled/glitched math problems in baldi's classic/remastered. they try their best but genuinely do just struggle a lot with understanding math. honestly i could go on a whole ramble about how baldi's basics could be taken as an allegory for how nightmarish the school system can be for kids with learning disabilities and other disabilities but that's a different post methinks

Dr. Reflex (🐀)

his eyes on his actual model in game are slightly misaligned if you look so i like to draw him with a "lazy" eye

he/they gay man. doesn't actively identify as genderqueer or anything but he doesn't consider himself totally 100% man all the time.

sort of. a pseudo-scientific quack lol. he isn't doing it to scam people out of money or anything, he's purely in it for the love of the game and hitting people with hammers. maybe here school should've hired someone with an actual medical license

autistic - special interest for the nervous system as a whole, but particularly interested in reflexes.

VERY attached to routine - is very particular about the way his sick bay is set up and follows the same routine every day without fail. this is part of the reason he gets so upset when people leave his tests early - it's not what's "supposed" to happen

probably objectum. you know he smooches that hammer

doesn't mind at all when people compare him to a rat - rats are his favourite animal :B he just thinks they're cute

has a lot of morbid curiosity around blood and guts and such - wanted to be a surgeon but flunked out of medical school :( the principal won't let him have any sharp objects for his medical tools so his hammer will have to do

had a crush on baldi for a long time before they started dating

Is full of squishy red and pink clay and can kinda just form himself back together if injured. None of these freaks have normal biology

[kathleenkatmary]

I remember back when episode 4 aired, the way people were interpreting that moment between Agatha and Rio that screeches to a halt when Rio tells her "that boy isn't yours" was that Agatha actually thought Billy might be Nicky, that Rio was giving Agatha her son back, that her seemingly sudden openness to Rio was because of that and then her walking away was because Rio shattered that idea.

But I think it's pretty clear from what we got in the finale that this probably isn't the case. I really don't think that Agatha ever actually thought that Billy was Nicky. She might have had a little irrational flicker of "maybe" in her mind, but it does seem that from the moment she saw that door to the Road appear that she was pretty sure it was Billy, even if she wasn't 100% certain.

So I think that really reframes what was happening between Agatha and Rio in episode 4, and in that moment in particular. It wasn't that she thought that Rio was making amends by bringing Nicky back, it was that even though she knew it almost certainly wasn't Nicky and that as such none of what Rio had done that she was so upset about had changed. It was the fact that the situation, walking the road with this kid (that she'd already had some interaction/connection with), teaching him magic, felt familiar enough that she could sort of imagine. It wasn't her son, it wasn't the road they'd walked in their trials, but it was close enough that, probably without her even realizing it, she allowed herself to slip into this sort of fantasy mindset of what things could have looked like for her if it all hadn't happened the way it did. A headspace that maybe alleviated the pain, temporarily, just enough for her to let her emotional guard down with Rio for a while. To maybe not necessarily forget her pain and anger, but to put her mind back into a space and time when she didn't feel it.

So when Rio said "that boy isn't yours" and Agatha sort of snapped back to her anger and her walls slammed back up, it was because Rio saying that was like her saying "I can see what you're doing". Having the little fantasy she probably didn't even know she was leaning into so much called to attention by Rio shattered that mindset she'd been able to get into that allowed her to let her walls down a bit. And it probably embarrassed her a bit, having Rio see so easily what was going on in her head.

And I think that it's really interesting that Rio saw what Agatha was doing, and even though it was the first time during the whole thing, and probably in centuries, that Agatha started to let her in at all, she shut it down. That's something that episode 8 kind of reframes, too. Because we see in episode 8 that this whole thing, Rio's continued pursuit of Agatha, is just because she loves Agatha, and she wants Agatha to want her again. She almost had that, could have had that, during episode 4. Agatha was finally letting her in. But she shut it down, because it wasn't real, and it wasn't good for Agatha. She didn't want her that way.

I just think that's so interesting, and helps to create such an interesting dynamic between them, that Rio wants Agatha so badly that she pursued her for centuries, sicced the Salem Seven on her, waited for her at the end of the road to torture her, but when this moment came where she could have maybe had her, she didn't take it because she didn't want her that way.

I feel like it also maybe comes from the way Rio sees what happened with Nicky. I think her reaction when Agatha calls her evil when casting the protection spell says a lot about this. She seems offended and even upset that Agatha thinks she's evil, and she knows that Agatha thinks she did something wrong in taking Nicky. I also think the expression that she makes when Agatha says that she gave her nothing, only took, says a lot. It bothers and confuses her that Agatha thinks that because she knows it's not true, she knows that death is just the natural order of things and that she doesn't choose to take anyone, it just happens. So I feel like when you take that with the fact that she did shut down Agatha in that moment, it speaks to the possibility that it's not just that she wants Agatha, but that she doesn't want Agatha to think those things about her. She doesn't want Agatha to think that she did anything wrong in taking Nicky. If Agatha will only be with her when she's in a situation that's put her in this headspace where she's viewing the situation as "fixed" or where her feelings about the blame she's placed on Rio are simply being stifled, then Rio doesn't want that. She wants the reason that Agatha wants her back to be because she recognizes and accepts that Rio didn't do anything wrong.

And I think a part of that does come from what an act of love, in Rio's eyes, giving Agatha more time with Nicky was. As Death, Rio is just a part of nature. She doesn't get to choose when people die how they die, or whether or not she gets to take them. It just happens. She tells Agatha that no other person in history has received special treatment, so she obviously saw bending the rules like she did as an act of love. So to have Agatha turn the whole thing around as some terrible thing that she chose to do probably hurt Rio a lot, and continues to hurt her.

So I think it would make a lot of sense that Rio wouldn't want Agatha in the way it would have happened in episode 4. She wants Agatha to recognize that she didn't do anything wrong and that what she did was an act of love, even if it was a miscalculation.

Which is something that I think adds a really interesting layer to Rio's character and to her dynamic with Agatha.

[dulltoned]

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

Floyd was curled up in bed cuddled into his lilac sweater, sat up against the headboard wrapped in a cozy pink quilt. This sweater was quickly becoming one of his favorite things. Poppy's gifts were always well-made and soft to the touch but one of these days Floyd was going to insist she stop giving him things. For the moment, however, he was more than content to swaddle himself in the small comforts. He's been holed up in his room most of the day, excluding the one time he left to go make himself a cup of tea, but it's not a bad day by any means. He feels great, all things considered, with only a nearly imperceptible weakness in his limbs and a vague chill burrowed into his bones. It's a good day to be nestled into his blankets with a nice book.

A firm knock at his door gets his attention and a quick glance at the clock mounted on the wall tells him it's half past noon. Oh, he's been holed up in here much longer than he'd thought. He puts his book aside and climbs out of bed, allowing himself a few extra seconds to stretch, and goes to open the door. John Dory is on the other side, his usual self-satisfied grin nowhere to be seen and a worry in his eyes that immediately puts Floyd on edge. "BroZone meeting," John says it so seriously that Floyd can't even find it in himself to roll his eyes at the phrasing.

"What's going on?" Floyd doesn't wait to ask as he follows John out into the bunker. It's weird to see his eldest brother so noticeably thrown off. John Dory wasn't one to wear his more uncomfortable emotions on his face where the world could see them.

John Dory doesn't answer, instead ushering Floyd over to the elevator. "The others are already in the kitchen," He half-explains, pulling Floyd up onto the platform and pushing up the lever at the same time. "It's Branch." That's all it takes to make Floyd's anxiety skyrocket. Branch? Branch was pretty reserved and he's been a little tense the past few days but he seemed okay. Did something terrible happen? Is he okay? Branch was so independent. What could have happened that John Dory called them all together with such grave intensity? John Dory was dramatic but it's never caused unwarranted worry before.

Floyd fidgets with his paws while they silently ride the elevator up, brows furrowed in thought while he stews in the worry rising in his chest. He clearly wasn't as in tune with Branch as he thought he was despite the one-on-one time they spent together most mornings. The elevator comes to a stop and Floyd is the first one off the platform. He moves swiftly past John Dory and rushes into the kitchen to find his other brothers, excluding Branch, already sitting around the kitchen table with matching expressions of concern on their faces. Great. "Do any of you have any idea what's going on?"

"No," Bruce shakes his head, "John just showed up all out of sorts so we figured it was serious." Clay nods along, gesturing to Bruce in a show of agreement.

"Because it is serious," John Dory insists as he steps into the kitchen after Floyd, circling around to stand at the table. "There's something wrong with Bitty B." He swears. Floyd is hoping that this is another game of the Troll who cried Bergen. John could blow things out of proportion sometimes and Floyd would prefer that to something being actually wrong. "He nearly bit my head off thirty minutes ago." Oh, okay. Maybe this actually wasn't so bad.

"I think before we go overboard here you should tell us what you did." Bruce cuts in, watching John warily. No one was willing to outright dismiss their eldest brother but it was hard not to take this with a grain of salt. Branch was snappy. He didn't like to be pushed and his boundaries weren't all out there yet so it was easy for one of them to overstep, John Dory especially. John was never one to stop his pestering, even when there were clear signs that he was pushing too hard.

"Nothing!" John throws his hands into the air and his tone turns exasperated. Floyd rolls his eyes fondly and crosses his arms, silently urging John Dory to continue. "He came home with this cute little picnic packed up and I asked him if it was for Poppy." Floyd waits for more but it becomes clear that there wasn't anything else John Dory had to add.

"That's it?" Clay presses in disbelief.

"That's it!" John nods quickly, leaning against one of the chairs and gesticulating with his gloved hand, "He looked at me and I swear he was about to break into tears right there. I tried to ask him what was wrong and he snapped at me to leave him the hell alone." He looks at them expectantly, eyebrows raised while he waits for them to admit defeat.

"That… sounds rough, actually." Clay is the first to break, the concerned crease between his brows returning with a vengeance. "Did you get anything out of him?" John offers a dejected shake of his head and they all share a collective sigh. Of course not. It was wishful thinking to assume that Branch would willingly open himself up to them, let alone when he was clearly already in distress.

"I doubt he's gonna wanna talk about it guys," Floyd reminds them softly, smiling sadly when they all turn to look at him. "He's not really open on a good day and I don't think forcing him to talk about whatever's going on is gonna make it better." It's not like the rest of them were getting together to share their feelings or anything but sentimental conversations sparked up naturally between the four older brothers. Branch seemed to actively avoid them and usually fled when things got too emotional for him. They've all had their moments with their youngest sibling, sure, but it was also obvious to all of them that Branch had been uncomfortable. Floyd doubts that whatever this is about is something Branch will want to share during a cuddle pile on the couch.

"Yeah, but haven't you noticed how tense he is all the time?" John Dory retorts. Honestly, out of all of them, Floyd half-expected John to be the least aware of Branch. Not in a particularly bad way, no, but the teal troll wasn't known for being the most observant when they were kids. It was hard to remember that maybe the last twenty years changed them all a lot more than Floyd initially thought. "Clearly whatever's going on with him isn't getting better on its own and we can't just sit here and wait for him to break down."

"Of course not," Bruce assures readily. He has a thoughtful expression on his face and Floyd really hopes that whatever he's thinking could help them figure out what to do. "Floyd is right, though, we can't pry it out of him. We'll only make it worse if we do that." They share a few more silent looks around the table and a familiar feeling of helplessness is starting to stir in Floyd. He can't help but remember the little blue trolling that he could pick up and settle on his lap. Back then Branch was so easy to cheer up, all it took was a quick little song or a fun story to distract the baby from his woes. Now Floyd doesn't even know where to start. He doesn't know what Branch has been through or how to comfort him. He doesn't even know how to approach it if Branch is having a rough time.

"I think he'd more likely shut down than open up if we try to force it out of him," Clay sighs, folding his arms on top of the table. They all murmur their agreement. If it were any other situation Floyd would be amused at the sight of them all huddled up around the kitchen trying to figure out what made their baby brother cry. The horrifying thought is that he can't imagine what could make Branch cry. Branch was a tough cookie but John Dory was right, Branch has been on edge from the moment they stepped foot in his bunker. There were times when the tension let up and Branch enjoyed himself but there was always wariness in his eyes. Floyd had really hoped that it would ease up on its own as they all got used to being around each other again. He's saddened to see that apparently it's only built up until Branch couldn't carry it anymore. It needed to be addressed, that was certain, but they were all stumped on how to go about it. "We need a plan. At least an outline on how to start." Floyd was really glad to have more than one plan-oriented brother right now. It feels wrong to conspire against Branch like this but it feels worse to just let his little brother keep hurting the way he clearly has been.

"I think the best approach is to test the waters first," Floyd steps further into the room, finally pulling out a chair and taking a seat at the table, "We need to make sure that he's receptive before we move forward with whatever we're gonna do." His brothers nod but John Dory looks a little unsure.

"Are we sure he'll ever be receptive?" John Dory brings up a painfully good point, looking between his brothers with earnest uncertainty. It's clear that John's desire to push comes from a place of real concern but that didn't mean it couldn't cause problems. It was important to stop him in his tracks before he got too far. Pushing Branch only ever led to the divide between them growing.

Bruce clears his throat, looking sorrowful when he speaks, "I think there's a decent chance that he won't talk to us." Floyd frowns, averting his gaze at the reminder. It was a fair thought, really. What right did they have to assume that they could just pop back into Branch's life and be part of his support system? The only person Floyd had ever seen Branch be actually vulnerable with was Poppy and that was only a few brief glimpses of soft moments meant for just the two of them.

"If push comes to shove we might just need to recruit Poppy and hope she can get it out of him." Floyd agrees with a sigh. His eyes are a little misty at the thought of being so useless when it comes to helping the people closest to him but he knows that he couldn't just insert himself back into Branch's life like that. If what he needs to do is rat his brother out to his girlfriend then that'll have to be enough.

"Well--" John cuts himself off and his ears perk. Floyd frowns and shares a confused look with Clay before he tries to listen for whatever caught John Dory's attention. For a moment there's nothing and he opens his mouth to ask what the oldest had heard but then he hears it. Footsteps. They're carefully tiptoeing up the stairs toward the kitchen and there was only one troll they could belong to. Floyd looks to Bruce and then Clay but his siblings look just as startled as he is. Obviously Branch hadn't heard them, right? There was no way he would be coming up here if he heard them talking about him, right?

The footsteps are only getting closer the more they sit in silence and Floyd gestures in quiet panic to the back hallway. What are we gonna say? He tries to convey in his sharp movements. They hadn't gotten anywhere besides acknowledging that Branch would want nothing to do with this conversation but if Branch had been on the verge of tears only a mere hour ago it would probably be hard to ignore.

John Dory blinks and gestures to himself, the how am I supposed to know? is easy to pick up.

Clay jerks his head towards the back hallway in obvious warning that Branch is nearly there and tries to lean casually against the table so it looks like they haven't been panicking over the dumbest thing. They all scramble to follow Clay's lead and only just manage to get themselves settled before Branch appears around the corner. Their youngest brother stops in his tracks the second he notices that the kitchen is more occupied than he thought. Floyd watches as a flurry of emotions flits across Branch's face; anger, yearning, fear--

"Hey B," John Dory greets with an awkward wave that cuts through the silence.

"Hey," Branch grunts, moving further into the room. He very intentionally keeps his eyes straight ahead as he steps over to the counter and reaches up to get a cup from the cabinets.

Floyd shares a determined look with Bruce before he turns his attention back to Branch. "Are you doing okay?" He decides that the best approach would be a direct one. Beating around the bush with Branch only ever leads to confusion or irritation and Floyd doesn't want to risk blowing anything out of proportion. He just wants to help.

Branch only offers a noncommittal hum and slams his cup down harder than necessary. Floyd can see his grip is so tight his hand is shaking. Not a great start but he hasn't exactly shut them down yet either. They should proceed with caution but Floyd would try to keep an eye on Branch's reactions so he can help calm things down if he needed to. He wants to avoid causing any more problems and he doesn't want to hurt Branch in their quest to figure him out.

"It's just that you've been pretty tense recently," Bruce pipes up, testing the waters with more awareness and care than Floyd would have expected from him. Being a parent had really changed his brother in a lot of really amazing ways. It's nice to see someone else in their family is experienced in the gentle approach now. "We were wondering if we could do anything to help."

Branch keeps his back towards them but the kitchen is small and Floyd is sitting at the end of the table. He can see the side of Branch's face even if it's still mostly obscured and he can see how his little brother clenches his jaw and takes a calming breath. "I'm fine," Branch says after a long stretch of silence. His voice is toneless and strained and Floyd can't help but cringe.

"It's just that you were pretty pissed earlier," John starts. He looks like he's about to make a joke but he thinks better of it. Instead, he sighs and straightens out his goggles absentmindedly. "We're just worried. It doesn't seem like you're doing alright." That was surprisingly heartfelt coming from John Dory. He's sincere and quiet and the worry seeps into his words.

Branch sighs and braces his hands against the counter, hanging his head and leaving his cup forgotten beside him. Floyd's gut twists and his heart thumps anxiously in his chest. He's seen Branch uneasy and uncomfortable and upset, he's seen Branch happy and shy and lovesick, but he's never seen Branch look so genuinely defeated. "Branch?" He presses softly, "Are you okay?" He echoes his earlier question and watches as Branch deflates.

__

Branch doesn't know how to handle this. He didn't really expect John Dory to follow up and he definitely hadn't been prepared for all of his brothers to confront him together. He hates listening to them like this. They sound so worried and he has no idea what to do. The mask slipped and he lost his temper and it seems like it wasn't something he could just sweep under the rug this time. He holds the counter in an iron grip and allows his weight to lean further and further into the edge. How the hell is he supposed to answer that? How does he explain to his brothers that he can't remember the last time he could genuinely and sincerely say he was doing great and that okay felt like a few and far between? "Does it matter?" He mumbles in lieu of a real answer.

There's a sharp inhale behind him and Branch flinches at the sound. Great. He hadn't meant to sound so dismissive but he couldn't take it back now. He's just so tired. He's exhausted, both from the nightmares keeping him up night after night and from the turmoil that seemed to constantly rage inside of him. He feels like he's just been coasting through the days, letting everything build up until it all inevitably came to a head. He was a fool to think he could escape the consequences. He knew better than to think it would all just even out and go away but he had hoped. He let himself and hope and look where it got him. How stupid could he be?

"Of course it matters, bro," Clay soothes quietly. There's a tension in the air that was only getting thicker and Branch wonders if the others could feel it too. "We wanna know if you're alright."

"Do you?" Branch asks bitterly. He hadn't meant to say it but it feels useless to hold his tongue now. He's kept it all inside for too long and it's drained him completely. He's hollow in a way that's terrifyingly familiar, a frightening reminder of how he lived for almost two decades of his life, and he's so sick of it. He wants to feel okay again and he can't keep burying it all deep down. It's twisting him up inside and leaving him with a painfully short fuse and he can't do this anymore.

"Of course we do!" John Dory sounds offended at the mere thought that Branch could possibly think otherwise and that's not fair. He doesn't get to be hurt that Branch doubts them. He has no right. Branch grits his teeth and his eyes are burning again and damn it he's getting worked up again--

"Since when!" Branch snaps, ripping his hands away from the counter and whirling around to glare daggers at his family. His family. The family who left him and came back only because they needed him. Would they have ever come back at all if he wasn't a necessary part of helping Floyd? "You all left. You left me alone and I had no one for most of my life!" He's screaming now. He's screaming and his eyes are burning but he doesn't think he has any energy left to care. "Grandma died and I spent twenty years being the outcast of the village and then you all just come back and assume that things are okay? That I'm okay?" Branch slams his hands against his chest in a wild gesture to himself and lets out a desperate, almost hysterical laugh. His brothers are staring at him with wide-eyed expressions of shock and he should really stop before he does something that will be irreparable but now that he's started he doesn't think he can stop. "No, I'm not okay! I haven't been okay in a long time! I'm trying really, really hard to hold myself together but sometimes I'm so pissed at all of you I don't know what to do with myself. Sometimes I can't even fucking look at any of you because it hurts. You can't expect me to think that all of you care about how I feel when all of you walked out on me and didn't even look back!"

Branch realizes that he should calm down. His chest is heaving with each breath but he's never let any of this out before and the release is addicting. He's fruitlessly blinking back the tears quickly filling his eyes and beneath all the anger and pain he feels guilt for putting those devastated expressions on his brothers' faces but he can't seem to reel himself in. "Did I ever even matter to any of you?" He asks, scrubbing a frantic hand across his face to wipe away the tears when they start to fall. "The only person who even said goodbye was Floyd, the only person who cared was Floyd. If you didn't need me would you have ever come back?" The guilty look on John's face is enough of an answer for him.

He runs his hands through his hair and grits his teeth against the sob bubbling up in his throat. He's realizing that maybe he didn't really put himself together as well as he thought back in his room and he might be having a breakdown in front of his brothers. The realization isn't enough to stop it from happening. He's already lost himself to the panic and desperation curling up beneath his ribs. His hands were shaking and his chest was getting tight but he knew from experience that he couldn't stop this now that it's started and he could already feel the humiliation starting to bloom on top of it all.

"Branch," Floyd gets his attention. Somewhere along the line the other troll had stood up from the table and took a few cautious steps closer, hands held up to show he meant no harm. "Breathe, buddy, come on." Branch instinctively tries to take a breath at the gentle coaxing but the air gets caught in his throat. Floyd only offers an encouraging smile and nods for him to try again.

Branch stutters through the first few breaths, leaning heavily back against the counter and wrapping his arms tightly around himself in a pathetic attempt to physically hold himself together. Floyd doesn't push him and the others watch on in curious silence. They look at Branch with such sad eyes and Branch wants to be angry but he can't. He's too tired to be angry anymore. He's burnt out. He breathes with Floyd's kind encouragements urging him to keep going and slowly but surely he calms down enough to force the stiffness out of his legs and drop unceremoniously to the floor. He ignores the startled cries around him and tugs his legs up to his chest, burying his face into his knees to hide the tears shamefully coating his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he breathes. He can't believe he just yelled at them like that. He'll be lucky if they even want to stay with him after this.

"Hey, Branch, look at me," Branch lifts his head to see Bruce kneeling on the floor beside him. Bruce still gave him plenty of room, staying a few feet away to avoid crowding him, and Branch felt a brief spark of gratitude at the consideration, "I think you had the right to blow up at us. You've been holding all that in for a while, huh? And none of us ever really brought it up. I guess we all just assumed that it was water under the bridge." Bruce has the decency to look sheepish at the admission. Branch huffs and tries again to wipe away his tears. It's a losing battle, the tears are still falling, but he feels like he has to try all the same.

"I think we're the ones who should be sorry," Clay sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, "I don't think any of us wanted to admit that we messed up. It wasn't cool of us to leave you behind and then just assume that everything would be fine. I'm sorry, Branch." The apology is unexpected. Branch thinks that maybe it shouldn't be but it still comes as a shock to him.

"You already apologized," Branch reminds him.

"I'm not apologizing for missing out on you growing up," Clay disagrees, shaking his head and offering a sad smile, "I'm apologizing because I walked out and because I never came back. It hurt you a lot, the least I can do is acknowledge that." Oh. A lump forms in Branch's throat and the tears pick up speed. He feels ridiculous and childish curled up on the kitchen floor with his brothers huddled around him offering comforting words but he can't deny that a part of him feels hopeful too. Hope was a terrifying, disappointing thing but it led him to Poppy so maybe… maybe he could try to see where this goes too.

"Thanks," Branch sniffs, wrapping his arms around his legs and drawing them closer to his chest.

"The least any of us could do is acknowledge it," John Dory steps away from the table and comes around to kneel beside Bruce, "I'm sorry I left, Branch. I could give you a million different reasons but at the end of the day none of them really matter, do they?" John Dory offers a bitter laugh, meeting Branch's gaze with sad eyes, "It wasn't fair to you and I never should've just walked back into your life like it never happened. I'm glad Poppy convinced you to come along but I should've said this all then. That's my fault, Bitty B. After everything we put you through you have every right to be angry." That's the most mature John has ever been, Branch thinks. At least with him. No condescension, no punchline. Just a sincere and heartfelt apology.

"I think that's the most serious I've ever heard you," Floyd playfully teases from Branch's other side and Branch notices that Floyd lowered himself down to the floor too. Clay is already walking over to sit beside the pink-haired troll, completing their messy half-circle.

"Shut up," John Dory laughs, picking up a loose rock tucked under the door of a cabinet and flicking it over at Floyd.

"Seriously, though, Branch. You aren't the one who should apologize. It's us." Floyd assures warmly, the same sad smile on his face but it's fond now too. "I'm sorry that you felt you had to keep this in. I know we haven't been the best brothers in the world but you can talk to us. You've been there for us," Floyd looks around at the others and Branch watches as they all nod in eager agreement. "Let us be there for you, okay?"

Branch frowns. As good as that sounds he doesn't like vulnerability. He's very intentionally kept to himself for a long, long time and the idea of relying on someone else was still very new to him. He's learned that nothing is certain in life and that everything good could be gone in a moment. The only thing he could rely on was himself. He knows this. But Poppy's taught him that even though good things might be fleeting they're also wonderful. Poppy came into his life and brought with her a happiness that's evaded him since he was just a trolling and now he can't imagine living without her. What would he be denying himself if he decided that this was too good to be true? He missed his brothers so much all these years and they're here now because they care about him more than he ever could have hoped for. "Okay." Branch decides before he can overthink it. He wants this so badly he can allow himself to take the risk. If everything collapses and it all fails he knows that at least he'll have Poppy with him in the aftermath.

His brothers sag a little with relief. Bruce claps a hand on John Dory's shoulder and Clay slings a celebratory arm around Floyd's shoulders. Floyd's expression softens, "Thanks, Branch. I know that this sucks but we won't let you down." Branch huffs an amused breath but lets a shaky grin form in response.

"So what's been going on?" John Dory asks as he shifts into a more comfortable position, crossing his legs beneath him and giving Branch his full attention. It's equally overwhelming and appreciated.

"Nothing," Floyd and Bruce give him matching stern looks. Branch rolls his eyes but concedes, "Really, it's nothing. I've just been having nightmares again recently and it's made me more on edge than usual." He pointedly ignores Clay mouthing again? at their brothers and focuses his eyes instead on the dirt floor. He sighs and buries his face into his knees again, "I'm supposed to be normal now."

"What do you mean?" Bruce asks with genuine confusion. Branch can't help but offer a resentful snort. Right, like Branch was the epitome of normal when it came to trolls. "You only need to be you, Branch." That catches Branch off guard and he peeks over at Bruce with a doubtful expression. Bruce only smiles, "I'm serious. I remember what you said to Viva back at that golf course you know. I'm sure you've spent a lot of time in this bunker and I know that Poppy of yours invites you to all sorts of things but no one wants you to be something you're not. You don't need to be like everyone else. We don't want you to be like everyone else." That's an angle that Branch hadn't really considered before. Branch often entertained the idea that Poppy invited him to so many parties and events because she wanted him to be more like a regular pop troll. Despite the fact that Poppy's always respected his boundaries he has an underlying fear that she wants him to change but she's even walked him home before when a party proved to be too much for him.

"Oh." Branch murmurs, still uncertain.

"You're weird," John cuts in and startles at the resulting incredulous shouts of his name. He raises his hands in surrender, "But that's what makes you you. We wouldn't love you if you weren't you, kid."

"Not a kid," Branch grumbles more on instinct than anything. He sighs, reaching up and tangling his hands in his hair, "But trolls are supposed to be fun. I'm not fun. I don't like big parties and too many sweets make me sick and I prioritize safety over entertainment--"

"You don't need to be fun all the time," Clay cuts him off before Branch can start spiraling again. Branch huffs and Clay shrugs apologetically. "You don't have to have fun all the time. Everybody needs their downtime and if you need more quiet time than the next troll that doesn't make you defective." Clay reaches out, telegraphing his movements carefully so Branch has plenty of time to pull away, and carefully untangles Branch's paws from his hair. "Besides, you're plenty of fun. I have a great time whenever we talk about the layout of this place and your organization system."

"Nerds," Bruce coughs into his fist.

"The point is," Floyd rolls his eyes but he looks happy. "Fun or no fun, quiet or loud, there's nothing wrong with being different. No one should ever force you to be someone you're not, and we don't want you to be anyone else." Branch feels a hesitant burst of warmth struggling to form beneath the uncertainty wriggling in his gut. The hope is growing with each passing moment but he's still scared of what it could lead to. He's been disappointed so many times.

Branch shakes his head, "It's not enough." He disagrees. There were plenty of trolls in the village that were still on the fence about him. He's seen the weird looks he gets sometimes when he's in town and the disapproval when he's with Poppy. No one is vocal about it and most of the village has been open to him being a part of the community but that doesn't erase the years of him being the outcast party-pooper. "I'm not enough."

"You're perfect." Branch's head snaps up and he stares at John Dory in disbelief. John Dory said it so vehemently and his face his set in a stern expression. The small, wounded part of Branch that always believed that he was the reason the band disbanded is squirming beneath his skin.

"What?" Branch breathes, laughing awkwardly at what he assumed had to be a joke.

"You're perfect, Branch. Never, and I mean never, imply that you're anything less than that again." John seems almost angry but Branch has to be imagining that. He looks genuinely upset at the idea that Branch could possibly think so little of himself but that seems unlikely. "Branch you have two seconds to tell me no before I touch you," Oh, what? That's a weird sentence-- but suddenly his face is cupped in John Dory's hands and his focus zeroes in on his brother. "You are amazing. You're a little rough around the edges but so is everyone. This past month you've been nothing but accommodating to us. You dug us out whole rooms in your home just because you wanted us to stay with you, that's crazy. You're dedicated, brilliant, and even kind under all that sharp wit. You are way more than just enough, little brother, you're perfect." Branch blinks stupidly up at John Dory and a few more tears tumble down his cheeks. John smiles sadly as he brushes them away with a few gentle strokes of his thumbs.

Branch sniffs pitifully and pulls away, scrubbing at his eyes with a startled laugh, "Jeez, isn't Floyd supposed to be the sensitive one?" He tries to joke but it comes out strained and teary. They all chuckle anyway and Branch is grateful that they're giving him a moment to try and compose himself. "I'm still sorry I yelled." He admits after a few beats.

"Psh, it's fine," Bruce waves him off easily. "You clearly needed to get some stuff out. What else is family for?" He assures lightheartedly.

"I know it's not hug time, but can we hug you?" Floyd asks. Branch moves to say no on instinct but Floyd is looking at him with pleading eyes and Branch honestly thinks that he could use one too.

"Fine, I guess," He grumbles and Floyd doesn't hesitate to swoop in and gather him up. The others don't take long to follow his lead. It's only a few seconds before Branch finds himself at the center of a cuddle pile. There are elbows jabbed into his side and someone's hair is tickling his nose but somehow he can't remember the last time he felt so safe and comfortable. "Thank you." He whispers into the bundle of warmth and support surrounding him.

"We'll always be here for you, okay?" Floyd says.

"Okay." Branch replies and finally lets the hope win.

[yesterdayiwrote]

And as for him being “effeminate”… I don’t even see him as that, because clearly quite a few of us like him, lol. It’s stupid. He’s a very skinny guy who wears a more preppy style, so I guess that’s where people get off implying that? And he dares to care about emotions and mental health. Maybe that’s why we like him, rest of the grid? 🙈

I think it's largely.... semantic? It's one of these things where we look for words to describe certain things and one maybe doesn't quite exist so we use the next best substitute. I agree, George isn't "effeminate" in the base understanding of the word, like you wouldn't look at him and think 'that's an effeminate man'?

But I suppose, as with all gender, there's a sliding scale and he's definitely not your ultra masculine type but then again, I would say NONE of the grid are, which is why I say this is a toxic masculinity problem. They all like to believe they're flexing their masculinity through certain behaviours. They're all plagued by the (incorrect) belief that being a man is a performance that requires you to carry yourself in a certain way to meet the grade of "man". They're all victims of the gender essentialism that women and the trans community are subjected to to police them, men just don't realise it as much and so they perpetuate it amongst themselves more freely and believe its the normal rather than deeply problematic behaviour.

It's a well known fact that George got called 'princess' back in his younger feeder series days. Most of the grid will know this. From a young age they've had the act of using femininity as an insult normalised to them. I'm certain they've all been brought up around people using homophobic language too. No, George isn't a woman, or gay that we know so technically can't be subjected to misogyny or homophobia, but men have built up this toxic masculinity ideal that relies on both misogynistic and homophobic ideas to police it. That in order to be a 'good man' you should find being seen as feminine or gay as the biggest insult because that's somehow the worst thing you can be.

And it's not new. I don't know how long you've been around f1, but Kimi Raikkonen made an Instagram post depressingly recently where he claimed Lewis wasn't a 'real man' in comparison to James Hunt - whose drinking, smoking and having sex supposedly made him a proper man in Kimi's eyes.

I think the answer is that "straight culture" (heteronormativity) doesn't have descriptive words for how people express their gender and so people rely on a sliding scale of masc/femme. Our language around gender hasn't developed enough to allow it and its never going to in the current climate. Queer culture is slightly more equipped, but people have assigned their own stigmas to those terms which mean straight people baulk the second you use them on them.

But no, George isn't effeminate in the kind of camp definition. He's a tall, skinny, clean shaven guy, who isn't afraid to show his emotions. I think most people are using it as a means of expressing how he's not your kind of emotionless, beefcake, hetmasc machismo kind of guy that you find at the far reach of the "male" spectrum - but as I said, neither are any of the grid, they've all just kid themselves into believing they're performing "man" better than he is.

[tasty-littl-snack]

I saw some clips of that one streamers show and they all seem kinda not great and no I will not be naming because I hate them with a passion but maybe you can guess who. But anyway, it got me thinking; Why does most of the watchers content just feel so…authentic. Like they put so much hard work and passion into their stuff and I’m just feeling so emotional about them right now lmao. Steven’s cooking shows(yes all of his cooking shows) Ghost Files, Puppet History and WWW are just so fucking amazing and the love and care put into them is just so beautiful. ;-;

Sorry to be weird in your inbox but I had to let this out lmao

Hope it's okay to answer this because you got me thinking and yeah I agree. While I don't watch any other let's call it "youtuber with a streamer" type channels, so I can't really speak to wether they are good or bad I know that watcher is the only one that appeals to me. From what I've seen the others have the "quantity over quality" aspect and while that is a way to game the system and get people feel like paying for more content is worth it (I personally think that it's a disease of modern times like why would you pay for one good movie if you can have several bad ones for the same/lower price), I prefer to pay for something that is done out of passion even if it's some kind of niche stuff I didn't think about before. And it's very well made and I feel like Watcher delivers just that.

I feel like the difference with Watcher and their content is that there is a lot of heart put in their shows, and they are doing things that they are curious/passionate about, and they have the ability to also awaken that curiosity in the viewer. Kinda a "follow me on this deep dive into a topic I just learned about", which is also the appeal of like video essay/long form content, but in watcher you can really feel the love they have for the thing and the people they work with. Steven once said in his interview that finding new people is their goal but it's very hard to find them because they feel like the chemistry and 'clicking' has to match with what they are doing. And when I heard that I was like "well this feels unnecessary" but then I watched the www woundtable where Violet talks about finding the right locations for www and how research goes into that, and then I felt it you know. They really care about every detail, to the point where you feel like "Wait why does this matter" but then the end result is a high quality episode of a show.

If you think about it, all of these shows are made from scratch. From ideas that they come up with and then discuss how to execute them well. The fact that Ryan got his popularity with unsolved aka things he was interested in and that allowed him to gather a team of trusted people who know what to do to make his idea a reality (and a better show and I will die on the hill that Ghost files is better than unsolved) is amazing to me. Shane with his interest in fun history facts and Puppet history starting out as a spiritual continuation of his previous show but then being combined with the manic energy of hot daga allowed him to express his creativity in ways that I really admire. (Like listen to believe me maizy and then to the dinosaur metorite song back to back you can feel that the creativity is there but as the years passed he got better at writing storytelling songs.)

I also think Steven is an interesting example because he wasn't a foodie at first but then got known for a food show so it feels like food is the niche he has to do. But even then, if you look at his first shows on Watcher it's Grocery run which gives voices to Asian-american influencers, and home made which is comparing the home made foods to the restaurant ones. The conclusion in that one is that even though sometimes home made is better the restaurant ones have a love for food as well. So he chose food as connecting with people and nowhere it's more shown than in dish granted which, yeah started as a show able to be made in a pandemic but also as making food for his friends to express gratitude for what they meant to him. The expensive stuff is the gimmick to get clicks, but you can see that the connection with people is really what that show is about. Travel season is again, an exploration of different countries through food and the fact that he chose Korea to start it off with - knowing that his wife is Korean, and the way he introduces some of the food to Andrew and Adam I think it's another expression of love he has for the connections he can make while eating food.

I just think all the shows are made with love, even the ones with guest shows. You can really feel the passion there that they have for the topics they explore and for the people they work with. I think that's what makes Watcher different and I really love that about them. They also find ways to improve their current shows and always evolve, and that takes time and effort but I feel like at heart they are creative people who got popular, whereas other people got popular first and then felt like they have to come up with things to keep this going. And that might be the difference and what sets watcher apart from all the other similar channels.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi. ISFP here. I was hoping you could give some incite on what's going on with my INFJ husband. Today, we decided to go for a walk around our neighborhood to help with waking up earlier. It was fine until the end, when I voiced that it would be even nicer if we travled a little to this park nearby. (Which is only an 8 minute drive away.)

His response was all about rush hour traffic and it taking a half hour to get there. This greatly frustrated me because it felt like he already decided it wasn't a good idea based off the ridiculous notion of it being much further away than it actually is. I thought it was such a ridiculously negative outlook that I wished I never brought it up, which caused me to fume. His self-assuredness can be sometimes draining in these regards, so I clam up. Yes, we could have discussed it, but in that moment, his response felt so negative I was completely dumbfounded.

Of course he notices. We get home, he looks into the actual distance and says it's a 15 min drive with rush hour traffic. (I don't know where he's getting his numbers from.) I'm further annoyed. It's like, instead of keeping an open mind and wanting to try what could be a pleasant experience out, he's looking for all the reasons not to do it. So I feel like my idea is being squelched, and now I'm just angry, as I tell myself I could just go alone. He doesn't have to come if he doesn't want to.

Of course he notices. So we discuss what's going on in my head because I understand he needs to make sense of the emotions floating around in the room. And I know all of this sounds a little petty, but this is where my question lies: when I finally tell him how he's made me feel because of his negative initial response, he deflects by asking, "Am I not allowed to voice my concerns?" This feels incredibly manipulative. So I'm not allowed to feel hurt and upset by his negativity squelching my very small dream?

Am I over-sensitive? Should I be the the one apologizing? Usually I do, but I've had it. Something doesn't feel right, so I don't bend this time. Of course he's allowed to voice his concerns, but maybe his way of communicating them and timing is flawed. And now he's moping, stuck in his head, and ignoring me. And the whole experience has just completely ruined the morning. I know in sociology our types aren't necessarily compatible, and it's been bumpy, but we've grown a lot together. So I just want to know how we can work through these differences.

--------------------

The both of you need to improve your communication skills. As far as I can tell, you're both being oversensitive, for reasons uncertain, though it can likely be traced back to auxiliary development issues. In this case, "oversensitivity" means reading too much into the intent of people's words and/or ascribing the wrong intent.

On your part, you accused him of being too negative, with the intention of shutting you down, even manipulating you. On his part, he accused you of not allowing him to voice his opinion, as though you often intend to silence him. Neither of you seems to have interpreted the situation correctly. Now that some time has passed and you're calmer, I hope you can go back and review what happened more objectively.

First, do you genuinely believe that you both have a right to voice an opinion? If not, then you have a problem of not allowing people to be authentic, which means they won't like being around you. If you do believe in freedom of expression, then act like it. In this situation, your way of thinking basically boils down to, "I will only allow you to have an opinion if you express it exactly the way I want you to". Is this reasonable? Is this true freedom of expression?

In this kind of situation, freedom of expression means people are entitled to their individual likes, preferences, and opinions. Period. No explanations, qualifications, or conditions owed. This means he was actually being somewhat generous in providing you with the reasoning behind his decision.

You didn't agree with his reasoning, which is your right. But what's most important in a disagreement isn't the disagreement itself but how you respond to it. Where things started going wrong is that you disagreed with him based on what is true for YOU while overlooking that there might be a difference in what is true for HIM. For example, perhaps he couldn't handle the distance as well as you for some reason?

In your reaction, you immediately launched into personal attacks by judging him as too closed-minded, "negative", "self-assured", or "ridiculous". This then made you too angry to engage in an objective discussion about the merits of the idea. Even when you don't say your personal attacks out loud, the negative/aggressive emotions still get expressed through your inability to communicate. The fact is you did not respect his opinion, and he knew it.

What if you had said something like, "Yes, I see why you would say the distance is far. I don't mind the distance, though, so I would still like to go. You may join me if you like or I can go ahead without you." Do you think he would've reacted as negatively? The first sentence shows that you hear his point and understand his perspective. The second sentence expresses your preference without any judgment or hostility about his. The last sentence gives him a true choice in the matter, which respects his right to his preferences.

Even if it's true that he exhibits a pattern of being too negative/extreme in his estimation of things, people respond much better to criticism when it is constructive rather than judgmental. If you had approached the discussion from the perspective of care, e.g., of not wanting him to suffer from too much negativity, then he'd probably be more willing to hear you out. But when you approach it from "be what I want you to be", expect people to get defensive.

He is also an unskilled communicator. Because he was offended, he wasn't able to empathize with you when you were upset. He didn't take enough time to investigate your perspective and understand why his words didn't land well. Saying "am I not allowed to voice my concerns?" was not a manipulative but a defensive maneuver. It is a kneejerk reaction to feeling judged, and you were indeed judging him.

In my view, this is not mainly a problem of personality/compatibility but rather emotional immaturity on both sides (that foments unhealthy function expression). You have a habit of being too easily offended and judgmental upon hearing something you disagree with, which makes it too difficult for you to engage in objective and reasonable discussion. He has a habit of being too negative and handling disagreement in the wrong way by compulsively trying to prove a point, which destroys people's willingness to engage in empathetic and productive discussion. These are personal flaws that, if left uncorrected, are likely to cause recurring relationship friction.

[nullmale]

There was something really uniquely awful about being a theater teenager when I was not actually remotely interested in theater and I wasn't the kind of gay people liked... I so vividly remember the exact millisecond I realized my classmates really did not like me at all and were feigning it because theater kids are neurotically pervertedly obsessed with emulating this whole "found family" thing among people they secretly loathe and the easiest way to bond with people you get along with but don't like is to generate common causes by locating a vulnerable person and either vilifying or tokenizing them (or doing the latter until they express not liking it, and then turning to the former) together and discussing in secret why you are good for doing it. I was pretty thoroughly discounted as a "real" option for friendship by these people, even my boyfriend at the time only dated me because I was the only other gay boy in the class and I later came to find out him and "our" friends framed that as a charity to me and an experiment to him. Like this game at my expense in which he became responsible for some boost in my self esteem, the kindness of giving me relief from the anxiety that I was this unlikable unfuckable freak, this thing to be narrativized outside of personhood to pad the idea that he was a good, accepting person.

Many many many of my relationships with men have followed this trend, self aggrandizing flirtations but never really being willing to take me seriously or consider me a "real" option, just a member of their ensemble of fragile devotees to string along with reassurances and beat down when they step out of line, feeding every individual these scraps of the truth which keep them all separated and fearful of each other and deeply trusting of them. I suppose when you are incapable of concealing the fact that you hate yourself you slip into these little cults of personality, these people who know what you want to hear and will say it to you just to feel good about giving you what you want without really caring what you need. They convince you other people don't understand or won't be as forgiving and then tell you, implicitly, that you parasitize them, that they allow it because they are good and they love you. And maybe they really do believe that. I am attracted to self assuredness because I covet it, but over time I think I have become extremely cold towards both confidence and sincere expressions of emotion because they remind me of what I cannot be without falling back into patterns of exploitation. It is vital to my survival that I do not allow people to get personally close to me because I can count on one hand the number of people who have done so without intentionally hurting me. So I let people develop relationships with me parasocially, through some curated person I make to extend the safety of distance, and even then my individual pleasure vulnerabilities which slip through come back to fuck me over. Everyone bitches and moans about this "mortifying ordeal of being known" and I loathe it because everyone who says that seems to do so because they're scared to be embarrassing, to like, fail some social skill-check, scared they won't be universally beloved, DEMANDING reassurance and comfort and attention from every fucking word and habit, but for me it has always been the case that when people know me they will hurt me.

Like frankly I am lucky to have what I have. It is no fucking wonder I turned out so messed up and codependent. I have never been valued by people around me and have been expected to magically intuit how to value myself. You want the thing that was born to receive any old fucking grievance as if it were its fault (and I don't think most people who hurt me and said it was my fault even really believed that, I think it was just the easiest thing to say to keep me from acting out) to just self-love its way out, to know what the appropriate boundaries are in close relationships... I don't know, it serves me better to keep people away from me. And I don't want to serve other people out of obligation anymore. I want to be liked and I want to be reasonably considered and catered to, not because of what I can provide. I want everybody to just shut the fuck up and get out of my way. I need to be allowed to behave the way I actually am around other people without caring if it's palatable or I feel like I'm going to go fucking crazy. And I want everyone who ever treated me like a possession to just fucking kill themself. Honestly.

[chasingshadowsblog]

Review: Paddington in Peru - Homeward Bound

Title: Paddington in Peru Directed by: Dougal Wilson Written by: Mark Burton, Jon Foster, James Lamont Cast: Ben Whishaw, Imelda Staunton, Olivia Colman, Antonio Banderas, Emily Mortimer, Hugh Bonneville, Julie Walters Year: 2024

While Paddington in Peru checks all the boxes of a good Paddington movie (and a good movie in general) it's lacking the magic of its looming predecessor.

It's hard to fault Paddington in Peru when it's real issue is that it's lacking an indescribable spark of magic. The film is more than servicable and its run-time never drags. If it were independent of a franchise, it would be a brilliant and lovely film - and it is a brilliant and lovely film! Just lacking something special...

The gags are funny but perhaps too many, or, not as well-balanced with the heart. There are a few too many clumsy Paddington clips and too few moments of sincere love and emotion. The Browns are relegated to shallow story arcs to keep their presence relevant to Paddington's journey home to the jungles of Peru and the film is desperately missing the presence of Sally Hawkins as Mary Brown. Emily Mortimer is utterly servicable in the role but lacking Hawkins' punchiness, while Henry is forced to re-hash old character arcs and Jonathan and Judy are rarely allowed to do more than react.

The film almost delves into commentary about the immigration experience and themes of belonging but spends too much time on its action and humour to dig deep. Overall, Paddington in Peru is a hugely enjoyable film - if you allow yourself to accept that it's not as good as Paddington 2. Relieving it of this weight allows Paddington in Peru to be the funny, warm-hearted, thrilling adventure it absolutely is.

Other bits:

I completely understand that Michael Gambon died and they didn't want to replace him, but this whole film is acting like Aunt Lucy single-handedly raised Paddington, my god, to not even have him in the photograph

RIP Uncle Pastuzo I guess

the nuns song felt very out of place for me (I missed The Band, I think them being in the jungle would have been a good gag) but then it went on for just the right amount of too long that I started laughing

I'm really glad Rachel Zegler wasn't able to take the Gina role, Carla Tous was fabulous and I think it's better not to have stars in these younger roles

I usually enjoy Emily Mortimer, but this role felt too easy for her (for lack of a better word) as in too easy for her to just do her Emily Mortimer thing without having to stretch her legs too much. Sally Hawkins' Mary Brown felt like much more of a well-rounded person

I could totally imagine Hawkins' Mary being too involved in Judy's university application and getting excited about all of the cool and unusual courses she could do and have that be their conflict, rather than have Mary being weepy about her children growing up (I realise this is not Emily Mortimer's fault and more of a writing issue) and maybe Jonathan not wanting to go to university and wanting to patent an invention and Mr. Brown isn't having any of that (because it's risky(!)) but then one of Jonathan's inventions saves them so he acknowledges that there are other paths in life and Jonathan is capable of being responsible, etc. etc.

JUST A FEW STRAY THOUGHTS IDK

I didn't enjoy the Antonio Banderas ghost thing - the idea was executed much better with Phoenix Buchanan talking to his mannequins/roles

I did enjoy AB though, I could only picture Puss in Boots when I heard his voice!

Olivia Colman's change of expression when Gina caught her on the airplane was chilling (they really cashed in their Oscar winner with that one moment)

I thought the whole plane scene worked really well actually, the physical set-up of it, the cartoonish "we're not actually flying a plane" way Colman was moving the controls, the screams

"Well, the Lord moves in suspicious ways!" so good!

El Dorado chip shop cut was great (both times!)

and the gag with the map sticking out behind the frame and Paddington checking the floorboard was great

I'm sure this was a fun cameo for Hayley Atwell but I STILL THINK SHE WAS UNDERUSED

she could be her own villain (not that the character was villainous I just think hayley atwell with an american accent would make a good Paddington villain

[nomoreusername]

Sunshine and Rain (Part 3)

Pairing:Sonya x female reader

Summary:While just trying to vent to an object Aris pulls your emotions to the surface.

Was I doing the only thing I was a master at and avoiding my problems (Sonya)? Yes. Yes I was. I refuse to confront this right now or ever. I’ll just run from my issues. I always was good at that.

So I stayed several feet away, just out of sight. Hidden by the shore, I was just below her, every now and then turning and watching her figure before looking back at the waves.

Keeping my feet in the water, I watched as a seashell washed up. Picking it up, I figured it was safe to rant to. After all, I highly doubt a shell will spread my secrets.

“Hey shell. I’m Y/N, and I have severe problems connecting with people. As of such, I won't talk to this wonderful girl about my feelings for her, even though she's the only person capable of helping sort them out. All I know is ever since she kissed me, even if it was on the cheek, my mind had been filled with only her. I have no idea how to fix this problem but am currently making sure we don't cross paths, which seems like a terrible idea. I also make terrible decisions though so it’s fine. Decisions like falling for a girl who doesn't want me,”I ranted.

“Hey-”

“I wasn't talking to a sea shell,”I immediately lied, throwing it in the sea. Turning around, I saw Aris standing there with an unreadable expression.

“I didn't think that you were,”He shrugged, taking a spot by me before I could do anything. Staring at the sunset, lost in our own thoughts, I tried to pretend he wasn't there as my mind was still traveling back to her.

“How have you been, rainy?”He spoke up.

“Excuse me?”I snapped, glaring at him.

“I just asked how you are, rainy.”

“Where the hell do you get off?”I asked in disbelief.

“What are you talking about?”He questioned, playing dumb.

“Nobody is allowed to call me rainy but Sonya. Do you understand? That is my special name from her, and you will not use it again,”I demanded.

“It's just a nickname,”He complained.

“It's not just a nickname. It's my nickname that Sonya gave to me, and it is not to come out of anyone's mouth. Have I made myself clear?”I asked slowly.

“So it's special because it's from her?”He clarified.

“Exactly.”

“So in that case, Sonya is special to you,”He stated, making me sort of regret my outburst as I glared at the sand like it used mind control on me. “I probably shouldn't be telling you, but you're special to her too.”

“I am?”I asked, hiding the unwanted hope in my voice.

“Yeah. She talks about you to me all the time. She goes on and on like you're the only topic to exist.”

“Are you being serious?”

“I have no reason to lie. It's almost concerning, but most of all, it's pure, like she's talking about the stars or the ocean.”

“That's, wow,”I whispered, looking at him again.

“Do you love her?”He asked.

“What?”

“Do you love her?”He repeated. As I instinctively went to say no my throat dried up. Unable to find any words, I slowly nodded my head as the realization hit me harder than anything ever had before. “I thought so,”He shrugged.

“I love someone. I love Sonya,”I managed to say.

“You should tell her,”He suggested.

“I don't know how,”I admitted. “I don't know how to say those words to anyone.”

“Well, I think you can do it. And who knows? She probably feels the same way. After all, she did kiss you,”He pointed out, going to stand.

“How do you know about that?”I asked quickly.

“I told you. She talks about you, a lot. So say something so she'll talk to you instead. As much as I love hanging out with her, if I hear your name one more time I’m gonna go deaf,”He shrugged, giving me a small smile before walking away, leaving me to figure out just how much truth, if any, there was to his words.

But he was right. He had no reason to lie so maybe just this once I could trust someone and tell Sonya how I feel.

[rolotouto]

More Rolo lines from Lost Stories: First, the line I was missing for when his Awaken level is at max. These level up lines are shared by both (and probably all future) Rolos: ・Nobody can rival me. I'm sure. The rest of the video are all of his exclusive lines as “Rolo [The First Time of Peacefulness]”, including his Home, Battle and Trust lines: ・When we went shopping, Brother said these clothes would suit me, and bought them for me. Having someone buy clothes for you... feels funny somehow. Hehe. (TN: "Funny" as in "strange.") ・The members of the student council also praised me, saying it suits me very well, but it must be because of my brother's good taste, who picked it out for me. ・My brother said he put the outfit together choosing marine colors to evoke the beach. I've never gone to the beach for leisure before, but I think I'd like to take a little walk by the seaside. ・It's an outfit Brother chose for me, but I think Brother would look good in this kind of clothing too. If Brother and I wore matching outfits… would it be strange? ・I used to think that any clothing would do as long as it fit the occasion. But wearing new clothes like this makes things fun. It's thanks to Brother that I could discover this feeling... ・It seems Brother is going for a preliminary inspection at an aquarium by the sea. Apparently, he's looking for a location to hide KMFs that can move underwater. Perfect, I'll go there wearing this outfit! ・An aquarium, huh… I've never been there for leisure. When I went there for missions, I didn't think much about it, so why is it that… when I'm with Brother I get all restless…

I previously claimed that these Home lines were aimed at Mario/Maya, but now I believe he isn't talking to anyone in particular, which is why he discusses his past so openly. After all, if Home characters addressed Mario/Maya, then you wouldn't be able to choose him/herself as your Home character. However, you can, so… I must have been mistaken.

・I've been to aquariums for missions before, but I don't have any memories of looking at the fish or inside the tanks. I probably wasn't interested in anything. But now… (TN: Might be "I've been to an aquarium for a mission")

I love the attention to his character here. The writers understand that he used to focus solely on accomplishing missions and was too empty inside to take an interest in anything, but now, in the present, he's always so introspective, contemplating how his emotions and experiences are changing. My Rolo... ♥

・The objective is still to do a preliminary inspection. But perhaps it wouldn't hurt to enjoy the aquarium with Brother a bit. Just like real siblings... ・That's right, maybe it will also help Brother to take a break! It would be nice if Brother enjoys going around the aquarium with me...

Notice how he is initially a little shy when expressing his desire to enjoy the aquarium, until he realizes Lelouch could also benefit from the idea. Just like when he kills "for Lelouch", he usually needs to delude himself rationalize how his actions will benefit Lelouch before allowing himself to carry them out—even when said actions are actually as selfish as killing Shirley or Nunnally. I'm not saying this trait is a positive aspect of his personality, just that it is part of his personality and, as always, I'm just glad to see Rolo acting like himself. From the moment he betrayed the Order—or even earlier, from the moment he started to enjoy living as more than just their tool—Rolo developed a new sense of identity and personal desires. However, I believe the obligation to serve someone remains ingrained in him, causing him to inevitably rely on the need to prove himself useful to Lelouch. Onto his battle lines:

・If it’s with brother, I’d like to go to an aquarium or the sea together… The same line as when scouted. ・I will drown you in the sea. Probably did drown some of those pilots he was escaping from in Turn 19... ・I have plans with Brother! The tone is meant to sound like "Why is there a battle now when I have other things to do!" ・What a pain. ・Let's end this. ・Don't disturb me! ・Bye. Those were Battle lines, but then there's the following Home line which wasn't included inside the "character archive": ・I keep checking over and over whether I might have gotten it dirty without noticing… As far as I can tell, the other Rolo didn't have any non-archived lines, so I have no explanation for this! Well, to be precise, all characters have month-exclusive non-archived lines that I haven't posted yet (you can only hear the September line during September, etc.), but this line here isn't one of those, so I'm puzzled... Anyway, cute, anxious Rolo. Lastly, the Trust videos: ・When I told President Milly that my brother had picked out this outfit, she was impressed and said 'Good taste.' ・Shirley-san said that I'm cute… If that means that this outfit suits me, I'd be happy.

・That person who is Brother's collaborator said, 'Someday I want to go to the sea with everyone,' but for me, if I'm with Brother, that's enough. I had to ask about this over at the guild, and I can't find anyone who has a clear idea who he's talking about. Probably Mario/Maya. ・It's the first time I've been so happy about receiving clothes from someone. I know: Next time, I want to choose clothes for Brother. Once again, considering that Mario/Maya has Trust levels you can upgrade as well, he/she is probably not the listener as I had assumed in previous posts. So the attribute might be called "Trust", but Rolo isn't really trusting anyone in particular within the story. ---

There have recently been special outfits during the birthdays of certain characters - specifically Suzaku, Jeremiah and Cécile, so far. If they release only one character per month, then I'd assume Rolo won't receive his Birthday alt this year, seeing as he's competing against Euphy, Anya, Guilford, Clovis, and Nunnally, but the chance is there! If my birthstone googling is correct, October should get a Tourmaline or Opal-related outfit.

[mcalhenwrites]

Can I rant about Seasons for a bit?

I don't think that Vivian and Graham are bad people. Bad parents maybe, but i think their character and behavior is only a result of circumstances neither of them could control in their past. I'm not trying to justify their behavior. Vivian growing up in an abusive household, being taken in by someone who treated him just a little kinder than others must've warped his views on love and parenting a lot. He will never see the corporal and harsh punishment of his children as wrong because when he was growing up, he felt he deserved it. No matter how small the infraction is, Because, at least now, he wasn't beat for nothing, right? Coming into magic didn't help his situation much at all, I suppose. Just gave him more outlet to express his emotions, especially as a teen going through a rebellious phase.

Graham if I remember correctly was kind of sheltered growing up and I think he latched on to that connection with Vivian quickly as teenagers do. Whirlwind romance. He was so quick to pick up and leave everything behind for his exciting new companion, not noticing what kind of influence and reputation Viv had. He stayed with him throughout the years and allowed him to be the more dominant partner because of that I think.

I wondered, without the secret of the magic to keep, would Vivian still have treated Shannon so terribly? I think he would have. He would always fond something to let boil over, and they'd end up right back in that cellar again. I think having magic made Vivian a lot more bold and careless than he would've been without it. The ability to just shut out the outside world from your affairs and be able to disappear whenever you please made him overconfident and seeking that power. If he didn't have magic, I imagine things would've come to a head between he and Graham about his parenting style much sooner...

Sorry for the long rant 😅 Feel free to ignore this! I apologize if I'm wrong about your characterization

Oh, I absolutely love this ask, and I welcome discussions about Seasons! Thank you for taking the time to type all of this out and share it with me. :D

This might turn into a long response, sorry in advance.

I didn’t want Vivian and Graham to come off as complete monsters when I wrote the story. In fact, Vivian ended up worse than I initially intended, because I did not predict he would use his magic on Howie. That scene just happened. (A lot of this story did, if I’m honest, but I had vague ideas about what I wanted to do with it.)

The thing is, each of their children—especially Howie—are the focus of this story. All of them are highlighted in some way. And Howie loves them at the beginning of Seasons. He leans into Vivian and Graham’s affections whenever he can get them, starved for attention. He wants them in his life and initially starts off the story far more forgiving than how he feels by the end of it.

Bee adores both of them as any small child who needs their parents often does. El wants Vivian and Graham to do better so he can forgive them.

I have a tendency to write a lot of stories with abusive parents who are misguided by their own upbringing and societal norms. They’re antagonists, but not all antagonists are evil. The generational cycle continues until the offspring who chose to break it come along. (And sometimes it’s a mix, where some of them continue it and others break it.)

Not to say that anyone who reacts with “I want to take a shiv to Vivian” is wrong! I get the urge to say it and usually get a good laugh out of making jokes like that myself. In fact, I realized while typing this up that “Shiv Viv” is funny as hell…

That said, I’m so glad that people can see Vivian and Graham as more than just evil characters without depth to their characters! And I’m grateful you’re not trying to justify their parenting, I appreciate that. (Discussing their parenting is interesting and I do welcome it, I just never want another comment like the one that told me El deserved a spanking for blowing up at Vivian. As if the beginning of that chapter hadn’t highlighted how badly Vivian and Graham gaslighted El and how much pain that boy had bottled up.)

I really hope “Cosmos”—the prequel about Vivian’s youth—will highlight a lot more about Vivian’s character and his relationship with Graham.

It’s true that he saw Gideon as a savior because some things got better. There’s a conversation in one of my older stories, Cashmere, where one character is mad at his boyfriend for how he treats others. The defense from the boyfriend is, “at least I’m not my parents” and his partner retorts, “You know, just because you’re better than some people out there, it doesn’t mean you can’t still be wrong.”

Gideon still wronged Vivian, he just didn’t starve him or clobber him or sexually abuse him.

The worst part is that not only did Vivian normalize Gideon’s style of parenting, but their society has normalized it too. Vivian has so few positive influences and no one to step in and say, “Hey, this isn’t right.”

As for Graham, he was a bit sheltered in his early years. He still went to school and made friends, and his father was somewhat active in his life (not always in a good way). But he 100% got carried away by his romantic inclinations. Running away with the love of your life and going on an adventure sounds like a lot of fun when you’re young. (Though he wasn’t a teen, he was in his twenties. But I’d argue that most of your 20s are all about doing new things and screwing most of them up. Most of life is like that, actually, but it’s especially true for your 20s. Source: I’m in my late 30s.)

I agree that Viv’s magic plays a huge role in everything, from the continuation of his relationship with Graham, his parenting going unchecked, and his personal growth.

Graham is scared of Vivian’s magic after a while. He’s not aging, and everyone around him is getting old or dying. All that will be left is Vivian. And he doesn’t know at this point that Vivian going to be the kind of father he is until Shannon is there. By that point, Graham can’t leave. Shannon is biologically Vivian’s, and Vivian can just magic all these children into existence if he pleases. Graham may not be a great father—he’s much like his own, who whipped him a lot growing up—but he tries to talk Vivian down. Sometimes he even succeeds, even if only mildly, and that further convinces him that he can’t leave the children to Vivian.

The catch with Shannon is that Vivian would have been ready to parent when he had a child if not for his magic. Vivian was homeless and didn’t like sudden changes unless they were his decision, and Shannon just plopped into his life and forced Vivian into parenthood.

By the time Vivian would have willingly had children without his magic there, he would have felt the consequences of his actions more explicitly. Imagine El, Howie, and Bee all hitting puberty and teens normally, with no magic but zero tolerance for Vivian’s expectations. They’d have friends in their age groups. Influences, bad and good. No magic signatures to track them if they sneak out of the house at night. (Howie is the type who sneaks out and goes on the rooftops with his friends.)

Vivian is the epitome of someone who doesn’t do well with most changes. His magic was his barrier and kept him frozen in time in many ways. He adapted to some technology, but no doubt he dislikes some of it. (In some ways, he’s right, let’s hate smart appliances.) While it’s not bad that he’s still accustomed to styles and decor that have come out of fashion, it still applies to how he treats his children.

He stunted their growth with that frozen time. All of them—Graham, the children, and himself.

He found comfort alongside that power in his magic, and he doesn’t see the latter as much as the people he has power over can see it. He just knows the comfort it gave him.

I don’t think Graham would have even stuck around with Vivian if they had both aged normally and immortality wasn’t so enticing. He would have watched the pair of them get old, both of them unhappy, and maybe chose not to have that for the rest of his life. Left so he could be happy elsewhere before he reached his thirties or forties.

I wonder if Vivian would have had children at all then, or if he would have died miserable and alone after Graham left.

[y2ksnowglobe]

So, when it comes to the Sparrow and Normal dynamic, I can't help but draw parallels from my own life and experience with my own parents that color how I read the situation. (personal shit under the cut)

I was having a conversation with my mom about how my dad refuses to express any emotion that isn't upbeat and happy. Like I've had one serious emotional conversation with my dad in my life and it required us almost dying in a boating accident.

Anyway, my mom and I are discussing this, and she says, "You know...the only thing he ever said about how he felt, when we found out you were going to be born with heart problems was that maybe it would be better to lose you before we got to know you, and that it would be easier than you dying after we got to know and love you."

That...is not a piece of information I should have. I don't want to know my dad ever thought that. I also understand it's a fair instinct to have, and that if I was going to fault him for having expressed it, that wouldn't help his "everything is always sunshine and rainbows" approach to life.

I love my dad, and as much as I understand why he might have felt that way, I'm not gong to lie and say it doesn't mess with me to feel like creating relationships with people is setting them up for a more heartbreaking loss later on (Why yes, I did resonate deeply with The Fault in Our Stars).

Sparrow never meant for Normal to know that he wasn't proud of him. Like my mom spilling the tea on my dad, Sparrow didn't have an active choice in whether or not he said what he said.

But even if Normal realizes that his dad not being proud of him reflected more on Sparrow, and even if he understands that it's not something he was supposed to know. It's still going to have an impact. I understand Normal's hesitance around accepting love moving forward, because even if he understands all of that, it doesn't change that sense of betrayal, that sense of being blindsided by someone admitting they're not proud of you, and as much as Sparrow tells Normal he loves him and he likes him, it's hard not to link those ideas together with that sense of pride.

The fact that Normal interprets Sparrow turning into a love wolf as "So this is what it takes for you to be proud of me?" makes sense just as much as seeing his son succeed allowing Sparrow to turn into a love wolf makes sense.

I do see the teens as unreliable narrators somewhat, when I hear Will talking about Sparrow not liking Normal, I see that as Normal's perception of events more than anything else.

So when I hear that Normal and Sparrow never really get closure, I think about these things. I think about not being able to put the toothpaste back in the tube. Once Sparrow said he wasn't proud and it was confirmed that he was telling the truth? I didn't know how they would bounce back from that. It was confirmed that as of how Normal was in episode 6, Sparrow wasn't proud of him, so Sparrow saying he was proud after that fact would always be tainted with knowledge that he hadn't been proud before but was now, so whatever happened between those incidents is what it takes for Sparrow to be proud of him. And that sucks because Sparrow must have been doing a pretty good job faking it to catch Normal so supremely off-guard before this.

TL:DR: I don't think Sparrow is at fault for how his and Normal's relationship was damaged. He confessed to something against his will after working hard to make sure Normal never suspected it. Similarly, Normal is well within his right to have what happened fuck him and give him issues that no amount of understanding where Sparrow was coming from will fix.