#It also makes me feel less overlooked

[nostalgia-tblr]

today i spent SEVERAL minutes contemplating the difference between "sympathetic villain" and "charismatic villain" and whether fandom as a whole confuses these categories sometimes

[familiaanteomnia]

Freedom in the loosest sense of the word; yet enough breathing room to discover himself and change up the patterns in his life. Ordering delivery, going out to eat and unable to help the unruly sweet tooth. Developing from the freedom to such treats as well from the vices that became part of him. When he remembered or wasn’t too busy that also of course played a big factor. Not to say he didn’t cook- of course he did but often the process was full of moodiness. Him uttering every foul word in every language possible; the whole time. Tea, coffee however- were ritualistic habits he only adapted to his hectic life’s fluctuating schedule. The first time he went back there with a sucker in his mouth; almost debated covering it back up with his wrapper and pocketing it. Yet he didn’t because it was that or smoking and he would hazard a guess the latter would be more prone to cause a problem. One of the vows he made upon being allowed to live elsewhere; he would only cook for others if he felt like it. Not that he thought a situation of that occurring very likely. It would suggest a permanent fixture in his life; somebody to care and love. Her comments that day were rather civil about the new found habit; but he could tell the unspoken annoyance was there. -------- Nobody would ever know, or notice the difference between all the places he lived. Assuming they even saw more than one. But the one in Paris, with the most foot traffic did get plenty comments at times. How messy it was. In their eyes; in the lens of how he grew up it was. Yet the clutter, chaos was purposeful and organized unbeknownst to anybody. Paris was the middle of the road given it did see foot traffic and was where Mercury no doubt paid attention the most to his life. It was home, home in the sense of his first tastes of being able to play music loudly and not having to seek approval before rearranging or adding decor. Home in that it was where he made his first friends, found family and began to discover who he actually was when not worried about being the prodigy he loathed being. Then there was London; home in the sense it really was just his space. He could hang colorful string lights; posters and really live in the space. It was the place where he had put the most personality into it. Of course he also was obligated to stay in; given he had no clue when who he was expecting would show up. Plus he was still processing his recent heartbreak; not following through with what he’d intended and having to leave home basically the instant she said to. And then there was his room, in that place he grew up. The place he really only called home when talking to Her; or with that acidic taste burning his tongue even if he meant it genuinely. The room that grew with him but also was like an time capsule. Rules to how it looked, rejected ideas when he asked to maybe paint the walls or to do anything deemed too drastic. It also felt more like a temporary thing somehow than his actual apartments. Home was a complicated word; often he debated about if he could even call anything his own. But then it became natural and possibly defiant, hopeful to refer as such. His apartments- not Her’s, not anybody else’s to dictate anything about. Even if he couldn’t fully commit to that attitude. ---------- He was of course surprised to see his friend; though relieved and fine with not having to work on getting free himself. Moving casually out of the way; just watching the show and patiently waiting to get uncuffed. It had been nice returning back to Paris; even if his life continued to be one disaster after another. Given all the trouble of the past few days; argument he didn’t want to head back to the bar. Had a bad feeling, which only settled further into his skin upon reaching the bar. Confirmed when the stairs were basically being guarded and he was met with hostility. Knew it was about to be one burned bridge- he’d mourn the loss of one the first places he’d felt he belonged and anchored him in his hectic life. Later- right now he was more worried about the two idiots and how he’d been stupid to kid himself that Mercury wouldn’t be strongly displeased if he didn’t do as she’d asked. Probably already on thin ice for all the lack of checking in. Plus maybe just maybe he did care about what happened to the two of them. Would be a bit cruel to just let them blindly go there. Feeling terrible having to fight them; part of why he was unable to free himself from the grip. Just earlier they’d been friends, family joking and them bailing him out. Shock as processed Nathan’s fit of rage? Gabriel didn’t know what to think of it but he wasn’t horrified maybe upset but then he was shaking it off; to help pull him away. Joking as he left the bar, shouting that the apology wasn’t accepted as if to provide the illusion of control over any of it. Had more important things to worry about as they ran away. When everything was over- he was going to probably have one hell of a breakdown. He deserved loud music, smoking and laying on the floor for hours. As they made their way among the bodies towards the hunter; he saw the body of his dead friend and despite their last encounter. His heart sunk in his chest and he paused there. Not his first loss, wouldn’t be his last and anger aside it hurt. Now wasn’t the time to grieve however. Needed to worry about the two people he loved and not allowing for any more death of people he cared for. ---------- Gabriel threw the pillow at the wall in frustration; normally he kept himself from thinking too much about his life in contrast to other’s and especially fains. Yet- tonight it had gotten into every crevice inside his mind, his body and consumed him alive. No he didn’t get the jokes about whatever cult classic film had been mentioned. It wasn’t endearing or amusing; it was really fucking tragic even if most those films were unappealing and not a hobby he could get into. Prodigy, talented and good looking but abysmal with some of the most average things. No he didn’t know the sort of games people played growing up. He didn’t get taken to any theaters to watch films. He had to force himself to take up space and how to relax. So many things that trickled into being a person, over the course of life and he didn’t have that. Fingers curling up into his hair after lighting up. Aware of his vision blurring with tears that he wouldn’t let fall out of his eyes. Choking sob of a laugh as his brain thought about how he knew how to do things like steer ships but nothing about subjects the made bonding with others less of an nightmare. And eventually he was all used up; the adrenaline high of emotions gone. Collapsed on his bed, wrapping around one of the pillows- it didn’t feel anything like a person but it felt less empty. Once asleep, he stayed asleep well into the late afternoon and when he woke up. Didn’t spare any of his previous evening any thoughts. ----------- He liked to sleep on his side most often; also quite preferred having his back to the wall furthest from a door. Or just sleeping on his back. It really depended where he was, if he was with anybody and countless other factors. However sleeping with his back to anybody was usually out of trust. Or to make them more comfortable. Then there was the fact he typically switched around in his sleep. Sometimes he’d do his best to not curl up into whoever was crashing in his bed. Only to wake up having entangled everything from their legs to their hands in his sleep. Most times he stirred awake before them. Unattaching himself, sometimes he didn’t and at times it wasn’t appreciated. Never figuring out the solution to if they woke before he did. Strange, sleepy limbo when he woke up and then processing what he’d done unconsciously sheepishly shifted to allow them more space. Good example of such was how self aware he was; sharing that bed with the two of them for the first time. Even going to sleep telling himself on loop to stay still in his sleep; really didn’t stop his subconscious from doing it as it pleased. At least when he woke up, he could be grateful he had only shifted slightly in his sleep and mostly kept to himself. Thankfully he didn’t have to even jokingly address it. There was always a level of exhaustion lately; maybe always but constantly going from one danger into another and the trail of death took it’s toll. Especially when tucking all sorts of emotions away to deal with when everything was less life or death. So it wasn’t hard for him to fall back asleep on the boat. Complete other side of the bunk; yet allowing himself to fall asleep facing Nathan. For the simple soothing fact of he’d know immediately he wasn’t alone when he woke back up. Drifting back awake slowly; haze of sleep as brought himself to open his eyes. At first he couldn’t help just want to stay in that state; he was comfortable and he could probably stare forever at the face looking back at him. Self consciousness crept is swift and unrelentless however. So before it could be soured- his hands withdrew close to him. It wasn’t likely Nathan would be hostile about it yet easier to never find out. Maybe he personally was just a wreck given how he had despite wanting to enjoy such comfort had sheepishly ruined it. Then came the crashing down; no more sleepy bliss or time to wake up slowly. Back to reality, back to the chaos that so filled the days lately with a deadline he refused to see happen. But that itself was only a small ripple in the tidal wave of issues. Gabriel didn’t waste anymore time getting up and getting back on mission. Yet he couldn’t quite tuck away the feeling of how he’d woken up; safe and comfortable. It lingered, the feeling of their hands intertwined and the closeness. So, he allowed it to linger while he focused on the tasks on hand. Maybe it’d cancel out some of the pointedly ignored emotions like suffocating fear. --------- Gabriel’s stained fingers, trailed ever so carefully over the various hair dyes. A large part of him impulsively debating- grabbing something bright and neon. Perhaps one of the radioactive looking yellow or green’s. But the instant he saw somebody else enter the store; fingers retracted away from the shelves. The urge dying especially when his brain brought up such an idea would be not worth any strife. Quickly ducking out of the store, into the nighttime and not thinking twice about it. ----------- His hair had powder in it and he was freaking out about it. If his hair got stained- well it might not be the worst thing but given he was supposed to check in. He’d rather not have to rush to either get color staining out or commit to dying his hair. Scrubbing at his hair several times in the shower and even though it didn’t stain could swear it did. It took several drinks and a few other things to calm himself down enough that he finally put the hair bleach back away off his bathroom counter. Doing some fresh makeup and a different change of clothes. Which really ended up just being changing some of the layers. Not for the check in or appearance’s sake but to shake off the rest of the freak out. Deciding to remove his chipped nail polish; it’d been experimental and he rather liked it not being perfect. The look was nice, so he didn’t stare at his finger tips as critically nor have to worry about staining or the already not so usual tinge to them or his nails. Kept him from biting them- turned out to be a nervous habit he must’ve rediscovered living on his own. ------------ “You look like hell my friend.” Gabriel put his middle fingers up while collapsing onto the sofa. It was all in the name of love and fun. Though he also was not in the greatest mood. Hungover, unrelated migraine and many bad choices the prior night in the name of self discovery. “No thanks to the fucking cocktails; whatever they contained is way too potent.” Of course his grouching was met with laughter, extended out cup of coffee. Readjusting his sunglasses before picking it up in both hands. Downing it before extending it out for more. -------------- Reclining, blowing the smoke upwards and enjoying the atmosphere. Getting up as the song switched to something far too moody. He didn’t want it ruining his pleasant high that’d just started feeling good. “Trying to put your customers to sleep.” A very not amused expression followed by the song being switched to something else. Far more upbeat, catchy and he gave a polite thanks before getting lost dancing to the music. Into the haze of his high, of the fun and the person who decided to dance with him. Which turned into waking up, alone and then the usual daily monotony. ---------- In the name of exploring, discovery and adventure- he had spent hours trying to locate one building. Was it worth it? He had no clue but given it was a local record store; most likely worth it in terms of his music loving soul getting another place to obtain and expand his music knowledge. Finally he found it in the late afternoon. As soon he stepped in the door, it was so beyond worth it from the music that was playing through the building and just the wide array everywhere. His funds basically depleted when he couldn’t help but buy an sizable stack. Rushing back to his home fully intent to spend the rest of the evening listening and relaxing. In fact, for a couple albums he just laid there and didn’t even smoke. For more than one listen of each Not working on anything. Didn’t read any of the books he’d gotten to read from the previous weeks adventure to an second hand bookstore. Being unproductive, lazy was not something he tended to do often. Everything was purposeful or out of necessity; multi tasking was what he knew best and grew up on. To just lay there? Not indulging in vices and only listening to music- was something he’d probably not consider doing ever. Yet he didn’t get restless or upset. His thoughts were peaceful and he was comfortable, calm. Even eventually unable to help drifting off into a little nap. As the exhaustion from several long days finally was able to creep in and get a hold of him. Back to the backside of the couch; curled up on his side with one hand brushing against the floor. His other tucked up close to his chest; it was an nap of peaceful slumber remarkably.

[fuckwoodyallen]

dysphoria is so goddamn confusing. it’s like, there are two wolves inside me: yes I’m a transmasc lesbian, this makes sense more than anything else, this feels secure, women and nonbinary people rock / but also deep down I wish I was a boy kissing other boys, though I don’t think I’d feel a genuine romantic or sexual attraction to men unless we were both gay boys

[ace-of-pussy]

good GOD I am so angry.

I, as my bio suggests, am a minor. I am also asexual. And feeling quite dysphoric about all the adults in my life telling me ‘I wouldn’t know until I’ve tried it.’ But that’s a different topic.

I needed a little boost for myself so I looked at the asexual tag here on tumblr, so I’d feel less alone.

There are always thirst traps and other things of that kind on any popular tag. But I saw so many, on the asexual tag, that I actually cried, ripping my skin off as I did so.

There will always be people that abuse the tag system, I know. Tagging your posts with trending tags to make them more likely to show up on people’s dashes is a corporate tactic. But to see so many of these ads, I can barely call them posts, on the asexual tag, made me physically ill.

Asexuality is often overlooked by not just cishets but the LGBTQ+ community so often. To see that a safe space for positivity for such a overlooked community was being vandalised for the sake of marketing makes me so angry and so upset for myself and all the other people who fit under the umbrella of asexuality or aromantic who just want to feel like they belong.

I’m a relatively new blog, but I know how tumblr works. I know how the world works. The way the world is run means that we are all victims, and I thought that maybe society, that damned, twisted thing, could let us have a little corner to protect ourselves.

All it does is hurt. it hurts, and it hurts, and it hurts. Companies aren’t going to get new customers by ripping apart supposed safe spaces, and young asexual kids like myself aren’t going to get any validation or even feeling of home from seeing thirst traps targeted toward our community.

our community that is SPECIFICALLY DEFINED BY FEELING DIFFERENT OR NO SEXUAL ATTRACTION TO WHAT IS DEEMED ‘NORMAL’.

it’s targeted. I can tell. And I am by no means an expert, but this tag abuse is hurting everyone. And no one is doing a thing about it.

please boost this. Reblog, like, whatever. This is damaging people far more than you think, and it needs to be resolved.

thanks for hearing me

[rileyslibrary]

pretty pretty please 🩶

imagine ghost is forced to speak at a school’s career fair because he’s out on medical, and reader gets sent with him to chaperone. (i.e. make sure he doesn’t scare any kids to 💀. and also maybe to feed him some slightly manipulative praises so he stays in a good mood lmao)

———————————————————————

You’re both standing in the principal’s office. The school was kind enough to offer you a private room since kids are a little rowdy today, and Ghost isn’t very fond of tiny hands tagging at his uniform and asking him “how many people he has killed”.

You’re holding two balaclavas; one is black, while the other is a deep shade of army green.

“It’s either this one or that one.” You say while raising both to his eye level.

He pushes your hands down and points to his skull mask. “No.” He states. “I’ll stick with the one I’m wearing.”

You frustratedly shake the balaclavas to your sides. “Come on, Lieutenant,” you plead, “you’ll scare the kids.”

“Have you seen kids these days?” he asks, raising his hands. “These fuckers are not afraid of anything!”

“Oh god,” You wince and toss the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. You shake your index finger at his face like a teacher disciplining a misbehaving student. “Don’t you dare to swear in front of them!”

“Have you heard, kids—”

“—these days.” You cut him off with a flick of the wrist. “Yes, but there’s no need to reinforce bad behaviour.”

He lets out a long exhale and places his hands on his waist. He begins pacing around the principal’s office, swearing under his breath. You’re trying to figure out whether he needs to let it all out before his big speech or if he’s cursing the moment he has agreed to do this.

He pauses in front of a painting hanging next to a window overlooking the school’s playground. He slouches and places one hand on his lower back, rubbing his injury.

You approach him from behind and gently grasp his forearm.

“Hey,” you whisper, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replies sternly. “Never mind.”

“Are you in pain? Please talk to me.”

“I’m not in pain!” He protests. “In fact, I wasn’t in pain to begin with, when the medics decided that I was,” he makes air quotes with his fingers, “temporarily unfit for duty.”

You place a palm on his lower back and begin rubbing it. He relaxes at your touch and puts one hand on the wall to support his weight.

“You talk about not reinforcing bad behaviour,” he murmurs, “but I’m not the best role model either.”

“Bullshit!” You scowl.

“Seriously,” he insists, “I highly doubt I’d be here talking to kids about their future if I hadn’t been injured.”

He’s correct, but he doesn’t need to know that, especially now, as you wait to enter a classroom full of kids. Any other team member would be far more qualified for this role. Gaz is such a cool guy that most kids would deem him a god. Price feels like the father you wish you had when he talks, and Soap can adapt to anyone he speaks to. Even you would be a better fit for this year’s career fair. But, Ghost? No, not at all.

“Come on, Simon,” you say as you continue rubbing his back. “It’s less about ‘being a role model’ and more about relating to them.”

“How am I supposed to relate to them?” He wonders, “My childhood was nothing like theirs.”

“How do you know?”

He looks at you and motions towards the window. “Look at them,” he says, “they’re full of life.”

“Not all of them are like that, Ghost; some are putting on a show.” You explain, and he turns to look at you again. “They look all jolly, but they might struggle at home or school. Worse, they can’t admit what’s happening behind closed doors because they’re either ordered to remain silent or not understand it themselves.”

He huffs and shakes his head. “Now I can relate to that.” He murmurs.

“See? You need to spot these kids and indirectly talk to them.”

“Spot?” He asks. “How do I spot them?”

“You mean to tell me you’re trained to spot targets from miles away but can’t see when a child suffers in silence?” You ask back. “Plus, it takes one to know one.”

He nods. “And what should I communicate to these kids?” He asks. “How do I help them?”

“By showing them that there’s something better waiting for them out there.”

“Don’t be naive, Y/N. How is what we do better than what they’re going through right now?”

“It’s not about the military, Simon.” You elaborate. “It’s about giving them another chance. They deserve to know there are options other than turning into their drug-addicted mother or alcoholic father.” You lean forward so he can meet your gaze. “Someone gave you a second chance, right?”

He closes his eyes and ponders your words. You tilt your head at him, trying to predict what he’ll say next so you can respond quickly.

But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he straightens up and takes a deep breath. “You know,” he begins, “I gave one of those speeches to a school a few years ago.”

“Oh!” You cheer and pat him on the back twice. “Did you, now?”

“Lysychansk, Ukraine.” He recalls, “I was being held hostage with a bunch of kids.”

“Tell me more about it,” you say, sitting on the principal’s desk and playing with a pink highlighter. He begins narrating his story, and you can tell he’s becoming more confident as he realises he’s spoken to children before, albeit in a very different context, but who cares? What matters is that he is becoming more at ease with his “previous experience.”

You, in turn, try to give him your full attention, but now that his doubts have subsided, your primary concern is that mask of his. He needs to take it off.

“See? You’re far more experienced than any of us!” you shout. “And in that setting? My god! None of us would have been able to do such a thing!”

He chuckles and looks proudly out the window at the children playing in the school’s playground. He seems to be looking forward to it now.

“Hey, um, sir?”

He shifts his focus to you.

“Your mask, sir; It’s dirty,” you say as you point to his cheek.

He puts his hands on his mask. “Where?” He yells.

“It’s right….” You get up from the desk and take a step closer to him, inspecting his mask. You raise the marker and draw a bright pink line across his cheek, “...there.”

He immediately places his hand on his cheek, looks at the highlighter in your hand, and then back at you.

“You... motherfucker...” he murmurs.

You move away from him and stand behind the desk.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you go out with that mask on; the parents will be furious.” You point to the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. “You do, however, have two other options! Take your pick, and I’ll see you in class in 5 minutes!” And with that, you rush out of the principal’s office and into the school’s corridor.

You enter the classroom and greet the kids with a smile, trying to hide your nervousness. Walking towards the back where the parents are seated, your mind starts racing; Is he trying to choose a mask, or is he cleaning up your mess? What if he’s so furious that he doesn’t show up, leaving you to give the speech? Worse, what if he enters the classroom and takes his anger out on you?

But, the door opens, and Ghost walks in. Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops. He’s not wearing any mask. Not the black one, not the green one, not the skull—with the pink streak—mask on. Nothing.

You observe him moving around; despite his lack of disguise, he maintains his composure. He greets everyone in the room, smiles, waves back at the kids and stands next to the teacher. You let out a relieved exhale through pierced lips. This is going well, thank god.

As the teacher introduces Ghost to the class, you turn to give him a thumbs up, and his eyes lock with yours. There’s a faint smirk playing on his lips, and your heart skips a beat as he silently mouths something in your direction: “You’ll pay for this.”

———————————————————————

A/N: YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS, ANON! I was forcing myself to take a break from writing, only to be slapped by an inspiration wave. Hope you liked it, though; I had fun making it.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Attachment

There's something growing between the two of you- or are you simply growing closer?

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, reader is a bit jumpy, some more lore, smut, slow sex, position changes, mentioned round two, some angy jungkook (but not at reader), some angst in the end but it's all resolved dw

Length: 7.2k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: I did not proofread this I'm sorry

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"Do you even know where we're going?" Jungkook worries, sitting next to you on the subway, but you just shrug.

"I know how to get back though, that's more important." You simply say, making him even more nervous.

Jungkook isn't used to giving up control like this. He's not used to being spontaneous and just doing things out of the blue because you feel like it. Things have to be structured, planned out and with a Plan B to go with it in case something goes wrong. He's an overthinker, and it shows, as he keeps looking around and asking.

"Just relax. There's a park nearby that I wanna go to. We can get some food close by and just eat it there." You say, and he sighs.

"I'm sorry." He admits, leaning back into the seat to try and relax more.

"Its alright. Most people panic whenever I talk about trips I take." You laugh.

"Do you travel a lot?" He asks, and you shrug.

"Used to. But.. he was more of a homebody. Didn't like staying at hotels." You explain, watching the scenery pass by next to you outside the window. "He kind of ruined it for me because he'd just.. continuously point out flaws in everything." You say, and Jungkook listens quietly. "Flaws that I'd.. overlook most of the time, because, nothing's ever perfect anyways, so why focus on that all the time?" You giggle, looking at him now.

"I'd disagree, but also agree." He chuckles. "There can be perfect things. It's just a matter of perspective, and how it's perceived by someone." He offers. "What's perfect to one might not be for another." Jungkook explains, and you nod.

"Thats the more.. complicated way of explaining it, I guess." You joke.

"I tend to overcomplicate things." He bashfully agrees, making you lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder.

"You'll.. tell me when I get too much, right?" You ask quietly, and he nods, arm wrapping around you as if to reassure.

"I will, don't worry." He reassures you, before he moves to pull your hand up to kiss the back for it-

A gesture that makes you blush, especially from the people around you fawning over it as well.

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He's caught off guard when you walk around in nothing but underwear, visibly unbothered by him seeing you like this.

"Do you.. want to join me?" You ask. "The tub is a bit small but..?" You question, looking over your shoulder at him, who looks oddly unsure. Considering you both have had sex twice now- or more so once, really, it's odd to think that he's like this now. Is it because the nature of your.. whatever it is, has changed?

You're no longer just strangers without any connection. There's something deeper now growing. And maybe that's what's putting him under pressure.

"If you'd like me to." He shrugs.

"Only if you want." You say. "I won't be upset if you say no. I'm a big girl, I can handle rejection." You giggle, and he chuckles as well, smile a bit less tense as before.

"I'm sure you can." He agrees. "Though I'd be stupid to reject." He jokes, getting up to walk closer to you.

"Or simply cautious." You shrug. "Nothing wrong with that." You remind him, but he simply nods, and follows you into the bathroom. The water is streaming in, hot, soap bubbling up. Jungkook watches how you easily shed your last items of clothing before you sink into the water, and he does the same now, revealing himself bare to join you in the barely big enough tub behind you.

You're comfortably leaning against his front, very obviously not shy about this at all- and in a way, oddly enough, it seems to rub off on him, as he feels himself relax with you so close. "I want to move into an apartment with a bathtub one day." You giggle randomly.

"Does yours not have one?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"No, it's too small for one." You deny. "Does yours?" You ask, and he hums his answer.

"It.. I have both. One guest bathroom with a shower. The main one has a tub." He explains to you. "Maybe.. you could come over someday. See it for yourself." Jungkook chuckles.

"Hm. Maybe. When you want me to." You say.

"I do want you to-" He starts, feeling like he needs to argue- though he's not sure what about.

"I know, but you also don't, and that's fine." You laugh. "I.. you know, I kind of get the vibe from you that.." you start, but drift off.

"..that?" He softly urges, hands now moving underneath the water to find yours to hold.

"..that you're not used to.. you know. People asking for permission. Or just.. I don't know." You shrug. "You're always so surprised whenever I do nothing but simply take your feelings into account. You seem so caught off guard whenever I ask you if you're okay with things." You tell him, and his eyes stare at the slowly disappearing soapy bubbles on the water surface as he begins to think.

It's true that it's not common. He's the man- always has been one, and with that always came the burden of decisions. Evelyn always took the things he did for granted- saw it as something natural. The fact that he provided her with a place to stay, money and security was just a given to her, and so was the fact that whenever she decided where to go for dinner, or what to do on his days off. He always drove her to her appointments, always had to please her, treat her right, because that's always been his role to play.

So, you're right. He's not used to being given a choice, asked for permission, or questioned whether or not he was okay with something. And it's become so normal for him, that he truly believed that that was how things had to be like-

and maybe that's also why he was so hesitant with you. Why he still hesitates.

What if he does something wrong? What if he decides something you don't like? What if he's not what you want him to be?

You want him to be himself. But he's not sure he even knows how to be himself anymore.

"You should.. be more selfish, you know?" You say, voice echoing off the walls a little as you move around in the water. "Then I won't feel so bad every time I want to ask you to do something for me." You laugh, joking- but he catches the hidden words.

"You can ask anything of me." He chuckles. "Trust me, I can make decisions just fine." He reassures you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

"I'm not doubting that!" You laugh. "But just- You're.. really nice, and I'm kind of scared I'll screw this up." You sigh, trying to sit up and lean away from him- but he holds you towards him, keeping you close.

"There's no 'screwing up' for either of us. We might not work out for reasons, but I doubt we'll really.. screw up like you say." He offers kindly. "I kind of.. just want to be with you for the next few days. Nothing more, nothing less."

"In what way?" You almost whisper, and he chuckles against your skin, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

"In whatever way you'd like." He hums against your skin, hands traveling up and down the length of your arms.

"What way would you like?" You ask, and he leans his head a little to rest his face in the crook of your neck.

"Right now.. exactly this." He sighs out. "I'm enjoying this a lot." He reveals, and at that, you lean back into him, and you can feel the way his lips twist into a smile against your skin.

"Is.. what made you fall in love with uhm.. Evelyn was it, right?" You ask, and he nods.

"I'm not sure." He admits. "She was pretty. She liked me, or at least that's what she told me- asked me out one night, and I just said yes because why not?" He shrugs, water sloshing around a bit at that movement. "I didn't.. have much interest in her back then, but I felt like it could just.. grow down the line."

"I mean, she's still pretty from what I could tell." You giggle, though he shakes his head. "No?" You wonder, and again, he shakes.

"Not anymore." He denies. Maybe conventionally attractive. Physically." Jungkook sighs. "But inside, she's just.. ugly."

You nod at that. You understand what he means.

"What about Greg?" He wonders, since the situation seems as good as ever to gain some more information on the guy he's never even seen before.

"He was.. or, you know, isn't as tall as you. A bit shorter. Uhm.. harsher facial features." You remember. "He always looked a little intimidating to me. But I thought it was just appearance. He used to be really nice to me, you know?" You explain, before you sigh. "But.. I don't know. Over time, after we started living together, it just went downhill." You explain to the man currently holding you. "There were warning signs before, sure- but I thought he was just stressed."

Jungkook listens, and makes sure you know that he is doing it- though he also provides some slight physical comfort as well.

"I should've left when he started to yell at me. Insult me, you know? But I didn't. I thought, if I was nice enough.." You stare at the bubbles slowly dissolving. "..I thought it would be okay."

"You were in love." He reassures you. "And we do stupid things when we're in love." Jungkook admits, making you nod as you lift your head a little to look at him.

Finally realizing that while his situation might not have been the same-

he still understands. More than anyone else.

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The next day starts rather.. interesting to him.  

He's wondering how long it'll take for you to snap- because he's noticed that some of his habits and behaviours are clearly getting onto your nerves. But he's not hiding any of it away- you need to face the truth after all, that he's no angel, and no perfect man without any flaws. He's not sugarcoating things- but you are. And he's waiting for you to drop that façade.  

You're never truly relaxing. You act like you are- but he knows you're not.  

Meanwhile he's just himself, even exaggerates some of what he knows are his nasty habits- and you're just quietly stepping over his pants thrown in the middle of the floor in the hotel room, though he notices the way your eyes cling to them for a good second. And when you actually trip over them on your way out, it's when you finally decide to speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums, lifting his head from his phone to look at you. "Can you.. could you maybe try and I don't know.. put your clothes in one place only?" You ask, meekly, and that's when he notices something important. When he realizes something. 

You seem awfully.. wary saying that. Almost fearful.  

Oh. 

"Of course." He nods, getting up to put them away- and your reaction to that, is that just instantly fall into apologizing for your words- as if what you said could've insulted him in some way.  

"It's just that you could lose something you know?" You hum, wringing your hands anxiously. "And maybe you trip too and-" 

"It's fine, really." Jungkook reassures you after dropping his pants and shirt that's been laying around in his still opened travel bag, now turning towards you. "Come here." He sighs, and you do, walking close to him until he pulls you in and hugs you. "I'm not mad." He offers, and from the way you tense up, he realizes he's hit the nail on the head. "I'll never be mad- never like that. I can promise you that much."  

"I'm sorry." You apologize. "I know you're not like that-"  

"But it's a habit, I get it." He offers, before he lets you go to look at you properly. "I can imagine why you feel like you have to apologize right now- but there's no need to pacify me." He tells you. “I’m not angry.” 

"I know. I'm sorry- I never thought you were like that either." You sigh.  

“Small steps.” He chuckles. “We’ve got time.” he reassures. “Let’s go out and see if we can find a restaurant we want to eat at, hm? Something casual.” He teases lightly, making you nod.  

Just like he said- it’s a habit.  

You’re so used to having to justify your actions, having to apologize for everything, having to just suck it up and get over it that it’ll be probably a long road until you’re truly free again. Does he want to deal with that? Maybe not, maybe he’s just too nice to say it right now because you’re..  well, stuck together in this hotel on this trip together for a few more days to come, since he ended up making an entire week out of the three day trip. Maybe he just doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable,  because he’s just a nice guy like that.  

“Hey.” He rips you out of your thoughts. “let’s order room service instead.” He offers, and you’re confused.  

“But you wanted to eat out?” You wonder. “and.. we’re wasting an entire day by staying inside-“  

“We’re not wasting anything.” He chuckles. “I went on this trip with you to spend time with you. Which is what I’m doing right now.” He offers you, pulling your hands to have you close as he sits on the edge of the bed you both share. “you’re getting stressed. Tell me how I can help you.” He asks gently, as you sit on his thighs, unsure.  

You don’t know why you’re so on edge today. You can’t turn it off.  

“it just feels like.. any second now, something might happen.” You sigh, playing with the buttons on his shirt. “I’m not used to things being so.. okay.”  

“I understand that.” He nods. “you’ll get used to it in the future, I promise.” Jungkook makes sure to tell you, before he takes your hands again. “can I.. ask you something? And please don’t.. I’m not going to say the things I’ll say because something is  wrong with you or anything.” He says, and you nod for him to go on. “have you considered.. talking to someone about your past experiences? Someone professional?” He wonders, but you shake your head.  

“I feel like.. it wasn’t bad enough to really go to therapy for it. Lots of people go through tough times like that, and they manage just fine.” You shrug. “I’m just being dramatic about it. Like you said, I’ll get used to it with time.” You defend yourself by instinct.  

“You’ve been through something traumatic. There’s no.. threshold of how bad something needs to be to be able to seek out help.” He explains with a gentle tone of voice. “I’m not going to force you, obviously. But just so you know, your pain isn’t invalid just because others had it worse.” He says. “Think about it, at some point. Doesn’t have to be right now.”  

“I’ll.. keep it in mind.” You nod. “thank you.” You offer him, and he nods as well.  

“Nothing to thank me for.” 

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Jungkook is agitated.  

He’s been silent for a bit now, desperately searching for a spot to charge the electric rental car at- but all he finds are either in use or out of order. It’s raining too, meaning there’s not really anything you both could do other than just drive back to the hotel- but this charging spot has to work now, or the car won’t make it back.  

Everything is just going wrong.  

From the restaurant reservation somehow getting mixed up, to his phone constantly ringing because people won’t let him have his days off- poor device slipping out his hand at some point as he’d wanted to take it out the pocket of his pants, clattering to the ground, screen cracked in several places. Then, he’s informed of something urgent at work- he’s needed back earlier than he wanted to take time off for, meaning you’ll have to pack your things tonight already to fly back home by tomorrow morning.  

And now, as he gets out wordlessly to take the charger from the station, he reaches his breaking point.  

“fucking hell!” He barks out as he’s back inside the car, hand hitting the steering wheel once as the car denies any further distance. And he’s got tunnel vision too- not noticing the way you instinctively flinch next to him.  

But it’s just a habit of your body. Your mind knows that Jungkook’s anger doesn’t work like you’re used to.  

He’s on the phone, talking to a coworker when you take the chance to undo your seatbelt, before you open the door. His hand reaches out, softly holding your coat to send you an confused glance- worried even that he might’ve caused you distress. But you  give him a smile in return, and get out to walk into the gas station, finding an employee.  

“Sorry- I was just wondering.. the charging station outside doesn’t seem to work?” You ask, and the man behind the counter nods.  

“Oh? Yeah it does it sometimes. Let me come check it, it’ll probably just need a restart.” The man shrugs, taking some keys with him before he walks back out with you trailing after him. “Ah yeah, stupid thing got a little crazy again. Go sit inside though, you’ll catch a cold!” He laughs, waving you towards the car standing in front of the little station. “let me know when it starts charging.”  

You instead walk to open the trunk however, fetching an umbrella instead to hold over the man’s head- something he laughs at but thanks you for either way as he taps around on the panel.  

Jungkook watches from inside, using this moment to calm down again.  

He didn’t think at all. Did he scare you? Probably, considering he can be quite scary to other people as well if he gets frustrated like this. He hates how things like these just bubble beneath his skin all day until it boils over- especially considering that he’s been so eager to make sure that you know he’s not one to get angry easily. And yet here he is, having just yelled at a car for not working.  

Maybe he’s not the right person for you after all. You need someone calm and collected, not someone like him.  

Suddenly, the car chimes up, telling him it’s finally starting to charge- and outside, you’re thanking the man with the thick grey beard with a grateful smile, one he returns just as warmly before he walks back into the gas station with you. And when you emerge back out, you’re holding two cups of coffee to go- rain soaking your hair as you hold the closed umbrella beneath your arm.  

Inside the car again, you offer one of the cups towards him as if nothing happened. “I didn’t know if.. you liked sugar or creamer with yours.” You say. “so I brought some of both.” You say, putting the little packages of sugar and creamer on the mid console- where his hand suddenly finds yours, silver rings catching your attention for a second.  

“I’m sorry for earlier.” He apologizes, fingers tracing your cooled down hand that holds your own cup of hot liquid. “I didn’t mean to get so riled up.”  

“You’re stressed.” You shrug. “Its understandable. Just.. maybe take a moment to calm down right now?” You offer, and he nods, a soft smile on his lips.  

“thank you.” He says, before you nod and reach for the sugar packages to dump some into what he realizes is tea.  

“The car is really quiet when it drives.” You say, and he nods, taking a sip from his coffee.  

“It makes no sound.” He confirms. “the most you hear.. are really just the wheels on the road. The engine isn’t  loud at all.” He explains.  

“so when we drive fast it’s not the engine getting louder?” You ask, and he shakes his head.  

“No. It’s all just friction, and the air passing over the car.” He tells you.  

“Its kind of funny how far we’ve come.” You say, slipping out of your shoes to get comfortable in your seat, rain falling onto the roof of the car. “like, we have cars that we can just.. charge like phones. It feels weird.” You giggle, resting your head against the seat, while your back leans against the door.  

“Do you have a driver’s license?” He asks, and you shake your head.  

“I’m too scared to drive.” You deny. “I couldn’t handle memorizing all the rules and keeping them in mind at all times. I rather.. like being the passenger.” You nod. “you drive really well. I’d sleep if we went on a road trip.” You say, and he smiles.  

“I take that as a compliment.” He tells you, and you nod.  

“It was meant to be one.” You affirm. “earlier.. it was funny.” You say, suddenly not looking at anything- and he knows what you mean by ‘earlier’. “it’s like.. my body still reacts the same, but my head knows there’s no danger.” You explain. “they’re.. detached, in a way.”  

“I’m really sorry I lashed out like that.” He apologizes again.  

“don’t be.” You shake your head. “I need to face those situations too. There’s..  no use in wrapping me in bubble wrap. After all, you wanted to see if I can handle you, right?” You ask, and he nods. “See? I think my mind can. My body might not to some degree.”  

“we can work on that.” He gently offers. “your.. body will learn too. I want you to heal with me.” He says, and you nod.  

“I want that too.” You say. “I want you to heal with me too, even if all I can offer is just.. well, nothing.” You laugh, but he shakes his head.  

“You offer me this.” He explains, eyes watching you as his hand reaches out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “you offer me a break. A.. moment to calm down, like you said.” He reminds you of your words.  

“if that’s what you need, I can be just that.” You say, and he nods.  

“I couldn’t ask for more.” 

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You’re late, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

He’d told himself to wait and not really indulge in any of this as long as you both don’t really know for sure where you want to take this- but you’re like a drug he can’t help but fall back on, a habit he can’t shake off. And it all happened so naturally, no words spoken as you both simply understood what the other was craving.  

Right now, everything is slow. You’re not even really undressed, him having kicked off his underwear beneath the covers, having had to somewhat get up and pull his travel bag closer to find a condom in there he had packed just in case, even though he did not plan for this.

It should have been his moment of realization. But he just couldn’t hold himself back after the lazy, but warm and almost comforting foreplay you two had indulged in after just having woken up, barely conscious.  

Your shirt is simply pushed up to reveal your naked skin beneath, and his hands are slow as they tug your underwear down your legs, sticky with your arousal from the earlier pleasure he’d brought you with nothing but his hand. You’re so warm from sleeping so close to him underneath the blanket you shared, eyes closed as you enjoy his offering of affection to you, kissing up your neck as he positions himself above you.  

There’s still no need for words. And he also fears that any sentence uttered by him could shatter this delicate moment between the two of you.  

Even though you should’ve woken up an hour ago, making you terribly late now, he just has to have this right now. It’s not just sex, and he hopes it’s not just that to you either- because this feels like a soft confession that’s not done in words, but actions instead. You really do offer him a feeling of weightlessness, as if time doesn’t exist, and no one expects anything of him. You just take him as he is, no questions asked.  

Maybe you’re this timeless because it doesn’t matter to you yet, considering the difference in age between you two. Should he feel bad about it then?  

Possibly. But then again, just like he’s using you to escape his own responsibilities and the pressure of his life, you’re using him just as much for a stable person to hold onto and rely on. And he’s fine with that. A good, healthy relationship should always have a balanced exchange. Give and take in equal amounts. Will this all become a problem in the future? Will you one day realize that he’s not able to offer you all the experiences you should have made in your twenties?  

Maybe. But even so, he realizes you’re right. It still wouldn’t be wasted time, if it’s spent with you.  

So what if he has to book and pay for another flight because you’ll surely miss the one he chose last night? He really couldn’t care less, because there’s no way he’s going to rush this. It’s the first chance at proper sex with you, finally a moment where he can give you actual attention as you deserve, not some quick fuck in the car or random blowjob on your couch. This isn’t just to satisfy your urges.  

This is a chance for him to show you love. 

And it’s clear that this is new to you- because you’re restless, as if you’re constantly expecting him to change pace, go faster, begin to rush towards his own pleasure. But he doesn’t, because that’s not his goal at all. His actual goal is to somewhat prove a point to you- that what he’s offering is not what you’re used to, in no way. He doesn’t see you as someone replaceable, someone who just has to be there, who has to listen to his every demand and do exactly as he says.  

No- he wants you to be yourself. He wants you to gain back that autonomy you rightfully deserve.  

Because one of the biggest things he noticed is how you constantly seem to live in a state of trying to pacify him at all times. As if you have to make sure he’s always happy and content with decisions made and words said, and he wonders just how bad your past relationship must’ve been to cause you to develop such behavior. So right now, he’s attempting to show you that he’s quite honestly the most calm around you anyways, even if you don’t do anything at all but exist alongside him.  

That’s enough already. He doesn’t need anything special from you, but yourself.  

Do you feel it? The way he’s pushing himself inside you isn’t an act of pure lust, but an attempt to connect with you, oddly enough. Jungkook has never seen sex as just that- but he has to admit that with Evelyn, the act had lost it’s appeal to him over time, mostly because he both knew that she was seeking out other people’s company aside from his own, and also because it just felt empty and unfulfilling to him. There was nothing to be gained from it, not for him at least- it only made him feel dirty and used, and towards the end of his relationship with her, he couldn’t bare to really let her touch him any longer. 

No matter what intention she had.  

But right now, with you, he’s feeling something- an urge he’s not felt in a long time, an excitement for possibilities and an eagerness to explore. And right now, he wants to take his time, watch you squirm beneath him, maybe even push you towards the limit of your patience. Will you beg?  

Why does that sound so arousing to him?  

He’s curious to know what you enjoy, what you want to explore, what you think about when you feel that specific need. He wants to ask what it was like before, has so many questions- but he also doesn’t want to speak right now, feels like this is neither the place nor perfect time to have a conversation like this. So instead, he just does what feels right- 

And judging by the way you sigh and reach out to touch him as well, it appears to be exactly what you like as well.  

Though he can also spot that impatience of yours growing, his smile not possible to be hidden as he rests his forehead in the crook of your neck, simply enjoying the closeness of it all as his hands run up and down over your body, exploring what he’s already seen before by now. But it doesn’t get old, doesn’t get boring- it never will be, most likely. He doesn’t know how long this will last, how long you’ll stay with him, or how long he’ll stay with you- but he wouldn’t mind to have you at his side long term, he knows that much.  

Or at least, he wants to try and make this permanent. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, clearly a sign of your dissatisfaction with the way he only occasionally actually moves, if anything, this all could count more as cockwarming than anything else. And now’s the time he has to break his silence, as he chuckles against your skin, placing faint barely felt kisses against the side of your neck. “What’s wrong, darling?” He purrs almost, while your hands move to rest on his shoulders.  

“Move.!” You complain, and he loves the demand so much. Not because he wants to go faster, but because you demand anything at all- something you should do more often. Maybe this is his way to go, moving forward. Maybe he could fuck some confidence into you.  

He surely wouldn’t mind doing it that way.  

“I am moving.” He teases, his low tone still raspy from lack of use during sleep causing your core to clench around him.  

“Our flight..” You mumble, fingers running over the back of his neck, causing him to involuntarily shiver.  

“I’ll book a different one later.” He denies, adjusting his position a little, pressing himelf as deep as he can inside you, leaning back to have his hands on your thighs, fingers running over the warm skin.  

“But that’s wasted money..” You say, unable to really resist his touch however, your arguing weak in nature and delivery. “And you’re needed back at work..”  

“I’m needed here, right now.” He instead teases, using your legs to pull you closer, slowly starting to thrust, your chest swaying alongside the pace he sets. “By someone I find way more important than work.”  

“But-” You start, but he decides to play dirty now, delivering a particularly hard thrust to shut you up or at least give him the chance to speak before you can finish your sentence.  

“You’re important.” He simply chuckles. “Right now, and afterwards, too.” He makes sure to tell you, before he leans over again, faces close. “Can I kiss you?” He wonders, eyes falling to your lips for just a second. “You can say no. I won’t be upset at it.”  

But you nod. “I want you to.” You say, for a second questioning if your words might’ve been too demanding- but it doesn’t appear to be the case, as he leans in to catch your lips, first kiss between you both passionate and warm- not hot, nowhere near burning. It’s like a promise, a silent gesture of devotion from him, an offering of his to show that he’s actually taking this seriously. 

He’s in it now. This is no longer just playing around.  

He’s not going to tell you he loves you- because he’s not there yet, and he knows neither are you. But he truly believes that these feelings can grow if he nurtures them well, and if you accept them and let him plant them in your heart. He wants the vines of what might grow to connect you both, because that’s what you both deserve.  

He knows his own worth. And he wants you to know yours, too.  

His lip piercings are a little foreign, but in a way, they make it a unique experience to you. Or maybe it’s the sincerity he has in his actions, the way he treats you, the fact that he pays so much attention to you as well during this whole thing. You’re not used to this. He doesn’t seem to expect anything of you, and it makes you a bit anxious.  

But even that, he notices.  

“Let go, darling.” He chuckles against your lips, barely apart from you. “I’ll take care of you.” 

“But shouldn’t you be taken care of too?” You worry, and he just smiles.  

“This is more than enough for me, trust me.” Jungkook responds, moving a bit faster now. “I just want you.” He tells you, and you're sure he doesn’t know the weight of that statement. 

Or how long you’ve waited for someone to say it like that. 

Because even though it’s said right now, during the act, but it’s not actually sexually charged. It’s not said in the context of ‘I want you right now’- but it’s more generalized. He wants you.. In general. Not just in this moment, or for this specific action.  

So when you simply trust yourself in the heat of the moment, turning the tables or more so positions, you feel a strange sense of confidence as you now ride him, his hands on your hips taken by yours, fingers intertwining while he watches you for a moment, clearly fighting the urge to just relax and close his eyes, sight of you too pretty to miss. But he can’t help it, leans his head back into the pillows with a lazy smirk on his lips, pulling you closer to wrap his arms around you, slow pace all you both need as you push each other over the edge, coming undone at different times- but still, that doesn’t make the moment any less meaningful.  

He keeps you in this position for a moment while he spills into the condom inside of you, not utterly exhausted, but entirely satisfied nonetheless. He feels nice, like his mind and body have been reset, truly giving him a fresh start to the day as he finally opens his eyes after bathing in his own afterglow.  

A glance to the side offers him the time. Your flight has left almost half an hour ago by now. 

“We missed it.” You mumble sleepily, and he nods, before he playfully manhandles you around to lay on your back on the bed again, pulling your shirt over your head. “Jungkook!” You laugh, and he chuckles along, attacking your shoulder and neck with kisses and even bites, visibly energized now.  

“Good.” He purrs against your skin. “Up for a round two?” 

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You feel a bit embarrassed. 

You’ve been home for two days now, and you miss him. Terribly so. Even though you try and occupy yourself with work, your mind keeps going back to the time spent with him, and you’re conflicted. Should you reach out? Text him? He told you he wouldn’t mind, but he also seemed a little stressed about work, so you probably shouldn’t bother him.  

Maybe you could ask Tae? 

But he doesn’t really give you an answer, somehow sounding oddly reluctant even to just talk about his friend in any way, and it makes you suspicious. So today, you finally jump over your shadow, and text him- just to get no reply for hours. It’s not until later that day that you receive a phone call instead- his voice sounding tired. “I’m sorry I’ve been silent.” He simply says, and you’re immediately alarmed.  

“What’s that noise in the background?” You want to know, because it sounds very much like something you’re very much familiar with. And with the way he dodges an answer by sighing first, you just know what’s going on. “Which hospital are you in? Do you need anything?” You rant. “What even happened?” 

“Nothing happened-” He quietly argues, sounding awfully like a scolded child almost, but you cut him off.  

“Well something clearly happened for you to be in hospital!” You argue, before you calm down. “I’m sorry, I just-” 

But Jungkook reassures you as always, giving you the name of the hospital he’s staying at, as well as the room he’s in, so you can visit him. And the moment you walk in with some snacks approved by the doctors, you feel like you’re the one in need of medical attention.  

“What happened?” You weakly ask, carefully sitting down next to his bed where he’s in, a hand running over his face, careful not to twist the delicate tubes connected to the needle in his arm.  

“Just an accident.” He says, though he’s not looking at you- and it makes you anxious.  

“What accident?” You ask, and when he doesn’t answer, you press on, unable to keep your emotions in check properly. “Jungkook please. You said we should be honest-” You softly say, and he sighs, licking his lips.  

“I.. Fell asleep.” He mumbles quietly. “While driving to a meeting. I was late, and it was.. Just for a split second- and suddenly it all went to shit.” He explains. “I was- the road was empty. And it was so fucking late, I- don't know what I was thinking.”  

It’s quiet after that, apart from staff and visitors moving outside in the hall, barely heard through the closed door, but the machine that’s keeping close measurement of his vitals occasionally makes a sound.

Jungkook barely manages to look at you, and when he does, he’s not sure what that expression on your face means. You’re looking at a nasty bruise on his wrist, face unreadable, before you eventually speak again.  

“Jungkook.” You say his name, and your voice is bone chillingly serious, demanding his full attention.  

“Don’t you ever do that again.” 

Your words are heavy, full of emotion and yet delivered in a monotone anger that makes him realize the gravity of the situation. He’s lucky he didn’t hit anyone in that tiny second, should be forever grateful nothing major happened at all except for his car getting crashed beyond repair.  

“I’m sorry-” He begins, but you shake your head, speaking after you take a deep breath as if to collect yourself.  

“No, I don’t want an apology.” You deny. “You can’t do this.” You say, and he’s a bit unsure what you mean, when you turn to look at him with glossy eyes. “You can’t make me get attached just to... pull something like this.” You say. “That’s cruel, Jungkook. You could’ve killed someone.” You tell him, and he nods, quietly. “Get a cab next time, or have someone drive you, fuck I don’t care!” You become a bit louder now. “But you can’t do this. You can’t be this selfish.” Is your response, as you finally properly look at him, close to tears. “I’m starting to need you, Jungkook.” You confess.  

“You can’t leave me alone like that.”  

And at the first tear falling, he chooses to ignore his physical pain, to move over a little and have you sit on the side of his bed, clinging to him as the full force of it all hits you, arms reaching out for him, grabbing hard at the hospital gown he’s in, desperate to hold him.  

As if you need to know he’s still there, that he’ll be fine.  

“I’ll make sure to rest properly from now on.” He promises, hand that’s not hooked up to anything running over your back as you cry into his chest. “I’ll take better care of myself. I promise.” He tells you, and you nod, though you stay close.  

It takes a good moment for you to calm down again, and when you are, he uses that energy you both have now to dig a little deeper.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out, by the way.” He tells you, and you shrug. “No, I mean it. There’s no excuse for it.”  

“You were busy.” You mumble, but he shakes his head.  

“Doesn’t matter.” He denies. “I’ll make more time for you. I need to rest anyways, and even after I’m healed, I should take a step back in general. Like I said-” He offers, wincing a bit when a movement causes him pain. “-I have to take better care of myself. For you.”  

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, detaching yourself a little from him again as you sit up, feet dangling off the edge of the bed. “I’m getting clingy already-”  

“No, please.” He encourages, giving you a soft smile. “Be clingy. I promise you, I’m just.. It's just a bit odd to me at the moment.” Jungkook reveals. “I’ve not had someone care for me in such a way in.. A while.” Or ever, he wants to actually say- but he doesn’t want to put so much pressure on you.  

He can leave those big confessions to a later date.  

“Should I.. do you need help at home once you get out of here?” You wonder. “I could help you? Or, maybe you can.. I don’t know-”  

“I’d really appreciate your company.” He smiles. “And your help too. But mostly your company.” Jungkook teases, making you laugh in relief.  

Not just because he clearly looks worse than it actually is- 

But also because his smile looks oddly youthful- and most of all, truly genuine. 

[autistichalsin]

Some of my favorite, understated moments with heartbreaking implications for Halsin

1. Halsin threatening to turn into a mouse in the epilogue if the player brags about his achievements- he's so shy and humble that just being acknowledged for LITERALLY BUILDING A COMMUNE HIMSELF makes him want to hide. A mouse is a very symbolic choice here: not only easy to hide, but also easily overlooked and forgotten. The idea of his accomplishments being acknowledged is so terrifying for him that he wants to turn into an animal no one will notice, instead of his usual strong, large, noticeable bear.

2. "Sometimes, I think people look at me and imagine my feelings can't be hurt." This isn't the kind of thing that happens after one or two people act like jerks. This is years and years of cruel treatment, of his emotions being demeaned and mocked because of his size. Of people judging him before even meeting him- and forming an entirely wrong view of him. Halsin is a bighearted, tender, sentimental man, yet because he's big... Well, big people don't have feelings, surely. /s

3. "You and I may struggle to go unnoticed in such environs, Karlach[...] Folk of our stature can be a lure for drunkards seeking a brawl, I have found," combined with, "There is a particular discomfort to besting one you know to be weaker than yourself - even when needs must," from a different scene. People have sought him out and fought him because of his size (which had to have been terrifying, especially the first time), and he feels guilty when he takes out someone he knows is weaker, even if they STARTED it. How many times has the poor guy been traveling and then had to defend himself against someone 1/2 his size, making HIM look like the asshole to onlookers, and reinforcing that whole "people think I can't be hurt" thing?

4. "It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..." (About the players' paths diverging post brain battle), combined with "I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless," if the player breaks up with him in the ending. This poor guy was having the time of his life adventuring with the group (and possibly falling in love there) yet never believed it would truly last (because of his abandonment issues). And then to have it confirmed.... he must have felt so awful in that moment, even if he was being dignified about it.

5. "You came for me... thank you. I feared Orin's accursed smile would be the very last sight I beheld," when Halsin is freed from Orin, combined with, "Orin's blades. I hoped my friends would save me..." If he is killed by Orin instead and Speak With the Dead is used on his corpse. The tone of his voice in the first line, especially added to that bit in the second... he never thought the player was coming to save him. He HOPED they would. Not "believed". Hoped. He thought he was going to die there- just like how he was in the Underdark for THREE YEARS and no one came to save him. And if it's confirmed... Yeah. That. (Sidenote: if you ask his corpse if he has any regrets, he says not telling Thaniel and Oliver goodbye, and not getting to see their land flourish. :( My heart. :( )

6. "I... have not had true confidantes for some time. The Shadow Curse robbed me of almost all my peers, and replaced them with the weight of responsibility. Perhaps that caused me to gild undeserving memories of my youth." Halsin was so miserable and stressed being Archdruid that he romanticized his past as a sex slave, viewing it as a safer, even happier alternative. There were actually times when Halsin thought he might rather be a sex slave than continue to be Archdruid. In a sense, for the 100 years the Shadow Curse was around, Halsin was just as much a prisoner as Thaniel was in the Shadowfell, but Halsin's prison had invisible bars. The Shadow Curse took away his entire support system, and being Archdruid forced him to be the strong one, always, never allowed to be weak or scared, forced him to take control of situations when he hated it, forced him to spend his time sorting out people instead of being in nature. And he was MISERABLE. For 100 years.

7. "You understand me almost perfectly. Only my late mother may have bested you." (Said if you get one question wrong at the love dryad test). He misses his mama. :( Especially when you consider that if you steal Balthazar's "Mother Dearest" and taunt him about it, Halsin disapproves (and is the only one to do so), while returning her gets you approval (which only Halsin approves of). And then the line when you look into a mirror while controlling him, "more like my father, with each passing day..." He really misses them. :(

8. "I am loathe to see anyone behind bars. It reminds me of my time as a guest of the goblins." He is, secretly, still quite traumatized from his time in the goblin pens, but he brushes it off. Just like every OTHER time he is hurt.

9. "I am aware [of having a habit of getting captured]. Perhaps I put too much faith in my skills of negotiation, or want to see good where there is none. It would be easy to resort to nature's fury whenever something stood in my way, yet I cannot help but feel I would be sullying the Oak Father's gifts. Naive perhaps... but I still draw breath." Halsin is aware he gets hurt often because of his desire to see good in people until he has no other choice, but refuses to give up anyway (which is backed up by that letter Gut had on her where she reveals Halsin TRIED to help the goblins, saying he could cure them of their tadpoles, only to be thrown in the cage, with Gut threatening to have his stomach cut open and maggots placed inside it.) Further, even though he is an Archdruid, and one of the most devoted, and explicitly has Silvanus's favor (Halsin says that gaining his favor was the only way he was able to open the portal to the Shadowfell), he still constantly worries about using Silvanus's powers, to the point of wondering if an actual threat to his safety actually merits using his powers. Which... combined with some other stuff, reads like one hell of a problem with self-worth.

10. "At least you were not present. Grim as [the ruined battlefield] is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory[...] I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost" combined with, "I was [present when the Shadow Curse was unleashed]. Part of my spirit was shorn away from me here, and never left," and, if Last Light falls, "All gone... devoured by the shadows. Oak Father preserve us, it's just like a hundred years ago[...] We are [still standing]. Yet there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time." He has so much PTSD and survivor guilt from the Shadow Curse. :( No wonder it's all he can think about- to the point that some of the other companions even get annoyed at him for his obsession.

11. "I never quite realised how burdened I was, until I met you. The threat of the shadow curse, the politics of the grove... I was forgetting who I was, but you lifted the fog. Thank you." Not only does this tie in with the above, with his PTSD from the curse and his utter misery at being Archdruid, but this HEAVILY implies Halsin had depression. Like... that "fog" line hits HARD if you have or have had depression, because that's exactly what it feels like. And the "forgetting who I was" bit too. Not just losing his sense of self to the depression, but to the neverending responsibilities of being Archdruid. I keep repeating myself, but damn, this guy has really and truly spent an entire century being absolutely MISERABLE. :(

12. "Forgive me. I... lost the run of myself. Sometimes, if blood runs hot enough, it's difficult to tame the beast." With that little disgusted groan/sigh, the fury and disgust at himself visible on his face, and the way he rushes to get out the rest of it- he thinks he fucked up so badly that you're about to leave him, maybe forever. And then if you reject him after this? "Ah... I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then." He has the most heartbroken look on his face here, and the way he says "of course" like he just... knew this was coming the instant he accidentally wildshaped. He felt that the first time he let ANY of his imperfections show, the player would leave him. :(

13. "Death is nature's final slumber - it awaits us all. Do not punish yourself over those lost, or give in to despair - not while there are still folk in need of your help." (Said to a Dark Urge if they tell him they're not much of a hero and most people needing them end up dead) Not only is Halsin speaking from experience here, but it's very clear he is STILL doing exactly what he tells Durge not to do, to himself- punishing himself over those who were lost, struggling with devastating survivor guilt.

14. "The grove has cut itself off from the world, to jealously guard its own little pocket of nature. No one shall ever enter or leave again. And I have been evicted from the very place I was charged to safeguard. A telling summary of my time as Archdruid, perhaps..." If the Grove is sealed and you ask him about it later, this is what he says. Interesting that he views being evicted from the place he was in charge of protecting to be a "telling summary." He was forced to take the leadership role there, and yet it was clear he wasn't wanted or respected by a great number of the Druids (exempting Nettie, Rath, and Apikusis). He got a truly thankless job that took damn near EVERYTHING from him emotionally/mentally, causing him to develop depression and causing him to backslide in his previous healing from his trauma from his time as a sex slave, he still gave EVERYTHING to the Grove, and in return...... almost none of his Druids appreciated or even liked him. (I could seriously write at least five metas about how obviously miserable Halsin was at the Grove, despite caring for it deeply).

15. "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me." Said at the epilogue to a solo romanced player who went to the commune with him. There's so many layers of heartbreak here. He is still surprised, six months later, that the player chose him. He even thinks the player will regret it, and will decide they want an adventurer's life after all after seeing everyone else. He doesn't think he is good enough- doesn't think he deserves the player, and yet at the same time he loves them so much that he is heartbroken over the possibility they might agree with him. He thinks that given a chance, there is little chance they would actually choose him again. (He is put at ease quickly when the player promises they picked him for a reason, but even the explanation he gives for why he was so worrie is heartbreaking- that he's so used to a tumultuous life that he thinks something must go wrong. He has been so traumatized so many times over the years that he just has almost no ability to think that true happiness is possible [or deserved] for him.) Something about that is just heartbreaking, even though his ending is one of the happiest of any of the companions.

Someone give this sweet bear man a hug, please :(

[justhereforthemeta]

Romantic expectations and the story we didn't see: A magic trick hiding in plain sight

Here's a hopeful meta for all my fellow celestial brainrot sufferers out there. Cheers! :)

This idea started as a dead end, trying to track the movements of Crowley’s sideburns/tattoo because I thought time travel shenanigans were afoot. I had to abandon that theory when it was pointed out that David was simultaneously filming as the sideburns-having Fourteenth Doctor, and in-universe Crowley can do whatever he wants with his facial hair whenever he feels like it. But hey - null findings are still findings!

On the bright side, pausing the show to make notations in a spreadsheet forced me to slow down and notice other changes I'd overlooked the first time around: acting choices, costuming choices, references to book lore. And possibly a few surreptitious flicks of the wrist, in places where we’re meant to be focused on the magician’s other hand.

@amuseoffyre and @ineffablefood had a great exchange recently about romance and “the significance of misdirection and three-in-one (magic) tricks” throughout the show. I suspect Neil has done something brilliant with the audience’s long-standing expectations (since the 1990s, really) for the love story between Crowley and Aziraphale to develop. And while it is a wonderful story indeed, playing to this expectation lets Neil distract his audience from the blink-and-you'll-miss-them seeds he's planting for the final chapter.

Continued below the cut...

Let’s start at the beginning of Episode 2. First, context: In the previous installment, Crowley stormed out of the bookshop, was whisked away to Hell by Beelzebub where he learns about the Book of Life threat to Aziraphale’s existence, then returned to the bookshop to dance a little apology dance and hide Gabriel with an unintentionally massive joint miracle. In S2E2, we and Shax catch up with Crowley as he's snoozing in the Bentley.

Shax: “You’re in trouble”

A. J. Crowley, cool as a cucumber: “Obviously. Former demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”

Interesting! Sarcastic? Yes, absolutely; but that’s also a good 4500 years and an averted apocalypse away from “I’m a demon. I lie,” wouldn’t you say? Someone is sounding a whole lot less depressed and aimless and navel-gazey (do snakes have navels?), and a whole lot more like he’s got a project to focus on, since his "what's the point?" ruminations on the park bench in E1.

And of course we all noticed the costume change right away. Hello, black turtleneck. Feeling cute today, thought I’d cover up my graceful long neck? That sounds unlikely. Let’s put a pin in this one.

There’s also an interesting acting choice going on here. Crowley speaks to Shax in a funny, drawling, too-cool-for-you voice that we haven’t heard in a while. Specifically, not since 1967. If you go back and give the S1E3 scene in the Dirty Donkey a listen, you’ll hear it (and if you know of another instance of it that I've missed, please let me know!). In S2E2, he keeps up this odd voice (if anybody knows what kind of affect this is supposed to be, please do tell!) throughout this dialogue with Shax, except for the brief moment when she first surprises him about the joint miracle having been detected.

1967 was a fun year. Crowley masterminded a heist! And seemed like he was having a ball doing it, right up until his little caper was called off after Aziraphale brought him the thermos of holy water. Crowley spoke to his co-conspirators in that same funny, very 60’s-caper-film voice. He wore a hip 60’s turtleneck. He bought petrol for the only time ever, so he could get those sweet James Bond bullet hole decals for his car (per the book, seen on the Bentley in the show).

Those James Bond bullet hole decals would of course have been part of a promotion for this 1967 release, which you just know our film-enjoying demon went to see in the theater:

Starring this suave, be-turtlenecked guy:

And now - begging your forgiveness - a brief rant.

There are a number of posts out there that refer to Crowley’s S2E2 turtleneck as a flirtatious sartorial choice - actually, ‘slutty’ seems to be the favored accusation. There are even a few posts floating around commenting on how sweet it is that Crowley swaps out his slutty, kinky, throw-me-over-your-desk-and-take-me turtleneck for a more dressy and appropriate collared shirt specifically to attend Aziraphale’s Jane Austen ball. 

Now this is all in good fun, and Crowley does indeed look fantastic here, and I do love a good fangirling sesh as much as the next person. However, fandom’s collective tendency to interpret what we are seeing on the screen through the lens of romantic expectation can, at times, give rise to a kind of blinkered enthusiasm that obscures the original text in a haze that is part Mandela Effect, part unrestrained horniness, and part in-group code talking and identity reinforcement.

Respectfully, Crowley’s black turtleneck does not appear at all in S2E5: The Ball. In fact, it never appears again after the end of S2E2.

For Someone’s sake, let’s collectively pull our heads out of the romantic fog/gutter for a moment and focus on what we are actually seeing in the book and on the screen. For Crowley, this is an uncharacteristic within-period costume change. There is a surreptitious flick of the wrist happening here, out in broad daylight, and we are all missing it.

So here’s a thing. Aziraphale appears to have settled comfortably into life on Earth, his neighborhood, his books, using Crowley as an outlet for sharing his good deeds that he would once have reported to Heaven. Meanwhile, at first glance, Crowley appears stuck in a rut. There he slouches on a park bench with Shax in S2E1: a guy who lives in his car, stagnantly clinging to old familiar habits, mulling over the pointlessness of it all.

Setting aside the bit about living in the Bentley (I’m going to attribute this to well-documented issues between him and Aziraphale, discussed in many other excellent metas, and move on), Crowley has at least two very good, proactive reasons for maintaining his contact with Hell through Shax. First and foremost, it’s a source of information he can use to keep ahead of potential threats to Aziraphale and himself.

But also, I would posit…he kinda likes it.

Recall that book GO was first conceived as a parody, with Aziraphale and Crowley as spy-against-spy (but not really) field operatives in an ages-old cold war between Heaven and Hell. Their entire book dynamic is rooted in the trope of two opposing agents who have been in the field for so long that they now have more in common with each other than with their respective head offices. Their St. James’s Park meetings among other spies and ministers trading secrets are a sendup of what was once a well-known Cold War-era cliché. 

Our contemporary Crowley still likes slick outfits and hellaciously expensive watches and high-performing vintage cars and pens that write underwater while looking like they could break the speed limit. He coaches Shax on how to blend in as a demon on Earth, and he helpfully redirects the wayward contact looking for the Azerbaijani sector chief. He loves improvising and getting away with shenanigans under the institutional radar. And boy golly was he impressed with Jane Austen: master spy, brandy smuggler, and mastermind of the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. 

And if you look at it a certain way, for as long as Crowley has considered himself to be on “[his] own side” - going at least as far back as Job - he could almost think of himself as a sort of double agent. It’s actually a very romantic sort of notion, befitting our hopeless romantic of a (professedly former) demon; but it’s romantic in a very different way than we, the audience, have been primed to watch for.

In other words, in a very “on my own side” kind of way, Crowley really gets a kick out of being a spy. Or at least, dressing up and accessorizing as one, and moonlighting as a good-doing double agent when he can get away with it. And also being a plotting criminal mastermind. Two sides of a coin, really. Just look at Jane Austen.

My point is: No, Crowley did not wait around for Shax to come find him in a turtleneck so that he could go flirt with Aziraphale later. He’ll flirt with Aziraphale no matter what. No, this:

is actually this:

Much like the one he wears to the Dirty Donkey in 1967: 

whilst holy water heist-plotting. Here's a clearer shot with gratuitous Bentley, because I love them:

…and which he'll wear again, with appropriate camouflage, while infiltrating Heaven in S2E6:

That is the 1967 planning a HEIST turtleneck for committing ESPIONAGE and STEALING THINGS in. Because turtlenecks are what modern human master spies wear to get their hands dirty - after all, he saw it in a movie once. 

Crowley dons his tactical turtleneck sometime during the first major break in the action (which doesn't happen until after the joint miracle to hide Gabriel) after he learns about the threat the Book of Life poses to Aziraphale. Loverboy started mentally preparing himself to go after that book immediately upon learning that it was in play as a genuine threat. 

Now let’s pick up at the S2E2 Dirty Donkey scene, reading the story from this angle. Of course, Crowley enables Aziraphale’s delusions about Heaven by hiding information from him, and does not disclose the Book of Life threat when they meet again. They go into the pub, Aziraphale shamelessly paws Crowley’s chest like the seductive Bond Girl he is, and Crowley gets to act all smooth and suave and intimidating as he chases off the interloping Mr. Brown (or Mr. Collins for the Pride & Prejudice fans, take your pick).

Ergo, theory: beginning in S2E2, Crowley is already thinking of himself as a Jane Austen/James Bond action hero (“How will our hero cope?”), psyching himself up to rescue Aziraphale by getting his spy game on and stealing the Book of Life.

Now, watch closely...This is where Aziraphale and Crowley brainstorm their plans to solve the problem they both know about: getting Maggie and Nina to fall in love and thereby get Heaven off their backs. Crowley’s vavoom plan is drawn from yet another movie (“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes - vavoom, sorted. I saw it in a Richard Curtis film.”). But Crowley also implicitly shares his solution to the problem he hasn’t told Aziraphale about. And true to form, Crowley’s Jane Austen solution isn’t the same as Aziraphale’s Jane Austen solution. 

Two solutions that fail by the end of Season 2, and a secret third one that might still work...and there's our magic trick of three.

‘“I’m lost. Am I doing a rainstorm?” Yes, babe. And a heist, too - just not until season three. Can I get a wahoo!? 

I won’t spend time on A Companion to Owls during this meta, except to note that in all three minisodes, we get to watch stories that involve Crowley acting as a double agent on “his/their own side” - successfully making Hell and Heaven think he’s fulfilling their will while saving Job’s goats and children; failing to fool Hell when he does a good deed in Edinburgh; and of course, collaborating with Aziraphale whilst evading detection as an infernal turncoat during the Blitz.

(Because this is getting long, I'll also skip over Crowley's interrogation of Jim in this episode - I'll probably come back to that in another meta. But interrogating is a rather spy-ish thing to do.)

When we catch up with Crowley again later, he’s already slipped out of the bookshop, having left Aziraphale to his biblical reverie about Job. He saunters snakily down Whickber Street as usual, but with a very pointed and swift glance over his shoulder (see pic above). This demon is up to something - possibly something we didn’t get to see, something that may have happened offscreen while he stepped out. In any case, knowing there’ve been unfriendly angels in the neighborhood that morning, he’s rightly concerned about being spied on.

From this point until the beginning of episode six, there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for Crowley to make any next moves. He babysits the bookshop, during which time he manages to wring some crucial information out of Jim; he follows his Crowley’s Angel around like a puppy, and downs a bottle of red like a good old fashioned lovesick boy once that’s been pointed out to him. If any plotting or scheming is underway, this occult being is keeping stumm for now.

This has been a long one, so I’ll wrap up with Crowley’s infiltration of Heaven with Muriel. The turtleneck disguise works (Archer fans, be vindicated!) long enough to gather some information that will be crucial not just to the denouement of S2, but also to Crowley’s journey in S3 (previous post on Crowley's Fall, Saraqael, and memory wiping). And Aziraphale gets to enjoy that view exactly zero times. The point isn’t oh, a turtleneck! How flirty! So cunty! So cute! Y’all. Everything matters. The costume change was a deliberate choice. In-universe, Crowley’s decision to wear his special spy turtleneck for spying in is a signal that he is out doing spy things, even as we watch.

In sum: Beginning in S2E2 and continuing through the end of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley are actively living out the scripts of two parallel, concurrent, and completely different Jane Austen stories. But you and I, dear fellow audience member, we came here for a comedy with a hefty jigger of romance, and that’s what Neil gave us to focus on. And right up until the Final 15, that was the only story we saw.

Meanwhile, Special Agent A. J. Crowley doesn’t have time to mope around at the end of S2E6. He’s kicked down, but he’s not out. He's got a Book of Life to steal, a very serious bone to pick with a certain memory-wiping angel, and his Angel and the world to save. 

“‘Heigh ho,’ said [romantic, optimist, former demon, hero, master spy] Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway.”

[tears-of-amber]

Hearth & Home Witchcraft That I've Learned

One of the biggest things that stands out to me when reading about hearth & home witchery is that everyday items are considered magical. Everyday moments, tasks, and chores as well. Its a beautiful way to live, if you really think about it. Big rituals are great, but as someone who is disabled, they rarely are doable. Here is a list of Hearth & Home Witchcraft Tips that i actually practice.

-Enchant a blanket by embroidering a sigil in the corner and using its color correspondences for your needs. It also helps me feel shielded from negative energy during meditation.

-Play music that makes you feel safe and AT HOME. This is almost like grounding, but also can be cleansing to the environment and especially the listeners. For me, its smooth jazz. The chill sound of the standup bass and the wandering piano notes that always seem to find their way to a comfortable key... its soothing to my soul.

-Talk to and about your home (kindly). So often its easy to complain about your living space. How you wish it looked or functioned differently. The house (in my belief) hears you. Treat it with kindness and gratitude for the shelter it provides. I say thank you to the house spirits and my home every morning.

-Find a convenient home protection ritual to do each month. I say convenient because if you overcomplicate things you'll feel less enthusiastic and less motivated to do it, and might even skip several months.

-Make a home cleansing spray using essential oils mixed with an appropriate amount of moon water. I like using a few drops of lemon, rosemary, lavender, and cinnamon. DO NOT spray this in the vicinity of your pets. I only use this spray in rooms where there arent any animals, to avoid complications with their health.

-Wash your bedding as often as you can and say a short incantation before you put it in the wash. It could go something like this. "I cleanse this bedding of all negative energy, from bad dreams, and from and all stress." Sleep is so important to your sense of safety and wellbeing at home.

-Open the damn windows when you can! Stagnant energy is known for dragging down people's moods. And there's nothing quite as uplifting as fresh air. This provides a healthy flow to your house's energy.

-Don't bring things in your home unless you want to incorporate their energy into your environment. This is something that's often overlooked. I especially advise heavy consideration when it comes to thrifting items and bringing them home. Try practicing sensing the energy of items so you can easily tell whats good to bring home and whats not. Thrifting is great! Im not discouraging it btw.

-Fresh flowers work miracles. Not only do they aesthetically brighten the room, but their correspondences and magical properties apply to the room that they're in. Sunflowers are a great example of a flower that encourages positivity, and are extremely affordable to get lots of them. Roses are a bit more expensive usually, but they invite that loving vibe. And African irises are great for psychic enhancement.

Thats all for this post! Reblog it if you found it helpful, or have any of your own cool practices for hearth & home witchcraft to share!

[drchucktingle]

best of the year / invest in autistic art

CAMP DAMASCUS has just been named one of the best books of the year by amazon. pretty amazing for a book with an autistic main character by an autistic author. also amazing for a queer horror book

this is time to celebrate but i also have some things i must say

i have to be honest with my feelings. 'online left' has a BIG problem with the way autistic buckaroos are treated. the way chuck was harassed about my unique way gets more shocking as more time passes and perspective is gained. HUGE left side figures who pretend it never happened

there are been giant strides made for all kinds of communities that are historically overlooked. we are trotting towards love. but i think acceptance of the autistic experience has a long way to go. that being said i am so honored by how far we have trotted

i love being autistic. always have. my diagnosis as a young buckaroo made me feel so cool. i hope CAMP DAMASCUS can make more young buckaroos feel that way, and i hope that as CHUCK TINGLE i can keep making exciting art that makes buckaroos proud to be autistic too

the folks at @torbooks (as well as agent dongwon and manager gino) are some of the few BIG ORGANIZATIONS that immediately accepted me for who i was and what i create, not as a joke or a character but as an honest expression of myself that does not fit a traditional mold

i am so honored they gave me this chance. i am so honored that YOU gave me this chance. i hope there is more of this in the future and less young autistic buckaroos being called ‘memes’ and ‘fake’ because their autism gives a different sensibility

not everyone was birthed from edgy online message boards. SINCERITY AND LOVE ARE REAL. UNIQUENESS IS BEAUTIFUL. and the more often business buds invest in this idea, the more there will be folks with bestselling, best of the year art paying them back. INVEST IN AUTISTIC BUCKAROOS

thank you for helping me prove this investment in neurodivergent art. thank you for helping me prove love is real. CAMP DAMASCUS is here

and BURY YOUR GAYS will kick open even more doors next summer so preorder here

[munson-blurbs]

How do you think Eddie would react to a fwb reader who uses sex as a distraction from their feelings?? Like, they’ve been having a bad week an their mental state isn’t great but heyyy there’s sex. Reader doesn’t really care about the pleasure part of sex just the distraction. Worried Eddie would feel a little used ngl :P

((Dancy dances away nervously))

I know you started this with "do you think" but my brain said WRITE A BLURB so here we are. Also shoutout @corroded-hellfire for helping me make it cute without being cliche.

Warnings: mentions of smut (18+ only, minors DNI), friends with benefits, angst/yearning, idiots in love, made it fluffy because I'm a sap

WC: 747

--

You hadn’t thought anything of it the night he’d called you “baby.” He was deep within you, melding his body with yours. Lost in the moment.

Or the night he’d mumbled, “your pussy was made for me” while slamming into you from behind. It was just dirty talk; nothing more and nothing less. 

Maybe you should have been tipped off when he’d growled, “mine,” his voice barely above a whisper as he pressed soft kisses below your earlobe. You’d figured the word, like the sex, was meaningless. 

But tonight’s comment stops you in your tracks. Your legs are wobbling beneath you, exhausted from riding him, as you step back into your pants. 

“Do you wanna, like, cuddle for a sec?”

A giggle escapes from your lips, swollen and kiss-bitten. He’s joking; he has to be. The two of you have a perfectly choreographed routine: you have a bad day, you call Eddie, you fuck, and then you leave. And his latest suggestion would definitely interfere with step four. 

When your eyes meet his, you realize that he’s serious. Hurt and confusion at your laughter crease his brows, and he tugs the sheet up a bit higher. 

“Sorry, I, um…” He shakes his head and rubs his face. “Never mind. You probably have to go anyway.”

You’re in no hurry to return home, fresh off of yet another argument with your roommate. That’s why you’d come over to Eddie’s trailer in the first place. And it isn’t as though you’d never thought about being in his strong, tattooed arms. The way he’d hold you flush against him, your cheek on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat in your ear. It’s something you’d once wanted—craved, even—but you couldn’t let vulnerability infiltrate you like that again. 

You spent high school watching him pine over the cheerleaders. He unwittingly broke your heart over and over with each woman he hooked up with at the Hideout, overlooking you despite your presence at every show. Being friends with benefits is risky enough, and post-sex snuggling will send you teetering over the edge back into the rocky terrain of unrequited love. 

And so you lean into humor as you shrug on your shirt. “I don’t think this friends-with-benefits arrangement includes cuddling.” Keeping your tone light and even, restraining every desire to crawl into bed with him. 

“Right, yeah.” He sighs and offers a sad half-smile. “It’s just…I was thinking—”

“That’s dangerous.”

He flips you off and continues. “I was thinking that maybe we could be more than that. Y’know, maybe we could have sex when you’re happy, too.” 

“I am happy when we have sex,” you counter.

Eddie shakes his head again. “I’m talking about before we do it.” He gnaws on his thumbnail. “It feels like you only want me when you have a bad day. A-And I’m glad I can be here for you and stuff, but sometimes I wonder if I’m a friend or just a good lay.”

You try to look at him when you speak, but he keeps his gaze trained on the ground. “Eddie,” you start, taking a seat next to him. His chest is slick with sweat, the soft hairs matted down. “Eddie, I had the biggest, dumbest crush on you when we were younger. And knowing I couldn’t have you tore me apart.” You let your hand rest on his. “I can’t risk having you and then losing you.”

“Losing me?” Eddie laughs softly and his free palm comes up to cup your cheek. “Look at me. Where am I going?”

“You could find someone new, someone better, someone who—”

He cuts you off with a searing kiss, remnants of your arousal still tinging his lips and tongue. “There’s no one better,” he murmurs. “You see me answering the door at two in the morning for anyone else? Think I’d miss out on precious sleep for them?” 

One arm hooks around you back and pulls you in until you assume the little spoon position. Nimble fingers undo the button of your jeans, slowly and patiently, a stark contrast to the way he’d practically torn the denim removing them earlier. 

“‘S that comfier?” He asks through a yawn.

“Mhm.” And it is. It’s the most relaxed you’ve been in a while, at least without him inside you. 

His curls tickle the back of your neck as he nuzzles into you. He staves off sleep long enough to speak one last time. 

“I’m glad you’re staying, baby.”

--

[rynwritesreid]

Okay, hear me out, Penelope convinces the team to go on a camping trip. Reader forgets her tent and has to share with Spencer, you can decide the rest. Do your thing 😉

A/N: sorry I have been away for a while, I started a new job, I’ve applied for a PGCE and got three interviews to attend. But I hope this one(and the other fic I will be posting today) will make up for that. Also this isn’t as detailed as my other smut fics, but I thought I would make this less BDSM themed :)

Summary: Basically what my lovely iluvreid has asked for, but reader loves camping, however, while on a team bonding camping trip, reader somehow forgets her tent. This forces her to share a tent with Spencer, which leads to them doing more than sleeping;).

Content: I believe no gender is mentioned, but there might be so fem!reader just incase. No mentions of sex, but it is very heavily implied. Heavy fluff. Implied smut. Mentions of the team possibly hearing them. Implied that Garcia stole readers tent.

Masterlist|requests are open|Navigation

You loved going camping, so when Garcia had been going around convincing people, mainly Spencer and JJ, to go on a team bonding camping trip, you jumped at the opportunity. The thought of spending time in the great outdoors with your colleagues excited you. 

You had packed all your essentials, but you had forgotten one crucial item: your tent. As you stood there, staring at the empty space in your trunk where your tent should have been, panic began to set in. You frantically searched through your belongings, hoping against hope that you had somehow managed to overlook it. But the reality remained - your tent was nowhere to be found.

Desperation crept over you as you tried to come up with a solution. You glanced around, seeing the others already setting up their tents in the clearing. Garcia's rainbow-colored tent stood out amongst the sea of greens and blues, a visible symbol of camaraderie and teamwork. The thought of having to share a tent with someone crossed your mind, but the idea felt invasive and uncomfortable.

Just as you were about to resign yourself to a night spent sleeping under the stars, a voice interrupted your swirling thoughts.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer asked, he seemed amused, you hadn’t really kept it a secret how much you loved been outdoors, and how you spent a lot of your free time camping. 

You turned to face Spencer, trying to mask your distress with a smile. "I, um, forgot my tent," you admitted sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks.

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, but then a mischievous glint appeared in them. "Looks like you'll have to bunk up with someone," he teased, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

You look around, trying to spot who you could bunk up with, but everyone seemed to have brought single person tents. Spencer seemed to be enjoying watching you struggle to find who you were going to ask.  

“You know, my tent is a two-person tent.” Spencer’s smile turned into a grin as he offered the solution. The realization hit you like a wave – Spencer was offering to share his tent with you. A mix of relief and excitement washed over you, grateful for his kindness yet nervous at the same time. You couldn't deny the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as you considered spending the night under the same roof as Spencer.

"Are you sure?" you asked, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the thought of spending this impromptu sleepover with him.

Spencer nodded, his trademark soft smile making your heart skip a beat. "Of course! It's no trouble at all. We can set it up together," he offered, already moving to retrieve his tent from his own supplies.

“You know, I’ve actually never shared a tent with anybody.” You couldn't help but notice the slight blush that dusted Spencer's cheeks as he made the confession. 

As the night wore on, a chill settled in the air, prompting Spencer to offer you his jacket. The simple gesture sent a rush of warmth through you, both from the added layer and from the thoughtfulness behind it.

If you were being honest with yourself, you had always had a crush on Spencer. He was kind, caring and he always seemed slightly mysterious. As you looked over to Garcia and JJ they both seemed to be giggling, with Morgan trying to figure out what they were laughing about. You thought maybe they had something to do with your missing tent, but you didn’t really care at this moment.

Under the blanket of twinkling stars, the crackling campfire casting dancing shadows around you, you and Spencer settled into the cosy confines of the two-person tent. The air was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the sounds of nature outside - a symphony of chirping crickets and rustling leaves.

In the quiet intimacy of the tent, you felt a surge of courage wash over you. Without overthinking it, you reached out to gently intertwine your fingers with Spencer's, a silent invitation for something more than just camaraderie and friendship.

Spencer's breath caught at the unexpected touch, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of surprise and undeniable affection. A tender smile graced his lips as he squeezed your hand. You knew he didn’t like holding hands with people, but for whatever reason he didn’t seem to mind it with you. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that right?” Spencer's whispered words hung in the air, soft and sincere. “And when I say beautiful, I don’t just mean the way you smile, or how your eyes glisten in the sunlight. I mean everything about you is beautiful. Your mind, your presence, you.” Caught off guard by Spencer's heartfelt confession, you felt your heart skip a beat.

You were lost for words, you had so much to say back, but you just couldn’t. You moved closer to Spencer, removing your hand from his. With a mix of nervousness and anticipation, you leaned in, your breath mingling with Spencer's as you closed the distance between you. The world outside the tent seemed to fade away as your lips met his in a soft, tentative kiss.

Spencer responded with a tenderness that took your breath away, his hand coming up to cup your cheek gently. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the connection you shared with Spencer. The barriers between friendship and something more crumbled away, leaving behind a raw and undeniable truth - you were in love with him.

You felt Spencer’s hands moving down your body. As you found yourself pulling away from the kiss, you couldn’t believe what had just happened. However, Spencer didn’t remove his hands, he continued till he found the hem of your shirt and slowly lifted it up. His eyes were scanning your body, drinking in every detail with a mixture of desire and reverence. Your heart was pounding in your chest. 

As your shirt slid off, discarded in the dim light of the tent, Spencer's gaze met yours with an intensity that left you breathless. There was no hesitation in his eyes, only a longing and a hunger that mirrored your own.

As Spencer leaned in to capture your lips in another searing kiss, a primal instinct took over, igniting a passion that had long smouldered between you.

The fabric of reality seemed to dissolve as you melted into each other, hands and lips exploring with a fervour that spoke of deep-seated longing. You had fantasied about this moment for a while. How he would feel, what he would be like. Spencer’s lips had touched almost every part of your body, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Your skin hummed with electricity under his touch, each sensation magnified by the intensity of your connection. The world outside the tent ceased to exist as you and Spencer became entwined in a dance of desire and need.

Spencer did have to keep reminding you to be quiet, “now you don’t want Hotch and Emily to hear you, do you?” The thought of getting caught by their colleagues only heightened the thrill, and you stifled your giggles against Spencer's shoulder. His fingers tracing patterns on your back soothed you, and you felt yourself relax into the moment, surrendering to the ebb and flow of pleasure that pulsed between you.

As the night wore on, your bodies moved in a rhythm that was both familiar and new, a testament to the bond that had formed between you.

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[steddiealltheway]

After the bats, Steve gets a bit self conscious about his scars, and starts going on less and less dates because he doesn’t know how to explain them to girls.

He’s hanging out with the fruity four when he starts complaining about it. Eddie snorts and says, “Imagine how I feel.”

Steve cringes and apologizes because everyone knows he got the worst of it.

Robin starts suddenly laughing maniacally, and they all look at her. Nancy asks what she’s laughing about.

Robin jokes, “Well the solution is right in front of you. Just date each other.”

Nancy joins in laughing with her, but Steve and Eddie eye each other. Steve had never thought a gaze could hold more than words until he sees the way Eddie is staring at him.

In all honesty, Steve wasn’t just missing all the physical stuff that comes with a relationship. Well, he was definitely missing it, but more importantly, he was missing the way it felt to have someone that loved him so unconditionally. In reality, he had only had the illusion of that before, but it had been nice. And it was especially nice to care for someone so deeply that it felt like his life had a whole new purpose - to make them happy.

The more he looks at Eddie, the more the laughter from the girls becomes white noise. He thinks that he could treat him that way. Hold him as if he’s doing it for him and not for himself. Call him to wish him a good morning and good night so he could be the first and last thing on his mind every day. Also, to give himself a reason to wake up and a calming voice that can lull him to sleep.

Maybe it would work. Even if Eddie’s not a girl, he thinks he might be able to overlook that. Especially with the beautiful depths of his brown eyes and the big, soft lips of his and that adorable nose even though it’s not a button nose like Steve usually likes. Honestly, Eddie is beautiful in his own way, and Steve knows he isn’t immune to it especially in large doses.

So, he shouldn’t even begin to consider the thought. Fake dating or sort of dating Eddie is completely off the table.

But Eddie’s staring at him, eyes scanning over him and settling on his lips in a way that makes Steve’s heart thud so hard he thinks everyone in the room might be able to hear it.

Okay, maybe the dating stuff isn’t completely off the table, but there’s no way he’s bringing it up first. He nods at Eddie once and looks away trying to signal an end to whatever discussion / consideration they just had. But he can still feel Eddie’s eyes linger on him the rest of the night.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, three of the four are leaving Steve’s place with Nancy offering Robin a ride and Eddie lingering behind a bit. Steve’s been overly aware of his presence since Robin’s whole dating each other suggestion.

What makes it worse is that Eddie is also aware of what his presence does to Steve and keeps shooting him knowing looks and winks. Until now.

Now, he hovers in Steve’s doorway and watches as Nancy and Robin pile into a car and drive off. Then, he takes a few seconds before turning back to Steve saying, “Tell me I’m not the only one considering Robin’s idea, please.”

Steve thinks about it for a moment before he takes Eddie by the wrist and pulls him back inside, closing the door behind him.

“I’m not saying like… actually dating,” Eddie says, the confidence from earlier all but evaporating into thin air as he fidgets anxiously with his rings. “I mean like… we’re just each other’s rock or something. Hell, if you just let me flirt at you and tell me things are going to be okay, then I’m fine with that. You can look at it as practice while you regain your confidence with the ladies or whatever. Just…” Eddie trails off, and Steve thinks he knows exactly what he means.

He finishes Eddie’s thought out loud, “It’s hard going through everything we did without someone to hold us and tell us it’s okay to feel scared sometimes. I mean… it’s one thing to have friends, best friends even, but… they get girlfriends and while you’re their platonic soulmate, their actual soulmate always comes first a little.” Steve sits back on his couch and runs his hands over his face. He hadn’t meant to project about Robin and her relationship with Nancy because he’s happy for them really. He’s just jealous that he doesn’t have what they have.

And really, he knows that friendships are everything, and Robin is his everything but… he sighs. Sometimes it would be nice to be held and kissed and get lost in someone else so deeply that everything else disappears.

Maybe that’s just Steve though. Always running from relationship to relationship for something he’s never able to find.

The couch shifts next to him, and a hand slowly comes up to Steve’s pulling it away from his face, and intertwining their fingers together. Steve’s heart skips a beat as he turns to stare at his and Eddie’s hands together. Steve talks without really thinking, “I know relationships aren’t everything. Friendships are really what makes a person whole, and you can’t get everything out of a relationship but… I really want to trial run this thing with us. We can call it speed running to more than best friends or something.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “That sounds like friends with benefits.”

Steve rolls the term around a bit in his head and squeezes Eddie’s hand while shrugging. “That works too,” Steve mutters.

Eddie shifts towards him and looks him in the eye. “You’ve gotta clear up what that means, man. Terms and conditions and shit.”

Steve’s eyes flicker down to Eddie’s lips. “I wouldn’t mind kissing you. Going on dates or hanging out or whatever you want to call it. Cuddling - hell, anything touching I’m fine with… with reason,” Steve says although with the way Eddie is staring at this lips and the warmth coursing through his body, he’s not sure he has a limit to the whole touching thing. Shit. He knew he wouldn’t be immune to Eddie.

“I’m good with that. Yeah, just… communication is key here, right?” Eddie asks eyes still dipping down to Steve’s lips and back to his eyes between his words.

“Communication,” Steve echoes, staring at Eddie’s lips before communicating, “I really want to kiss you.”

“Finally,” Eddie says before leaning forward and locking their lips together, his hand squeezing Steve’s but he can hardly register it because of how badly he wants to do nothing but kiss Eddie until he’s forgotten any bad thing to ever happen to him.

Then, Steve feels it. The small (big) part of his heart that’s screaming at him that he needs this to be more than a friends with benefits trial run. He needs Eddie to be his and only his if a simple kiss can ruin him like this.

He pulls away and looks at Eddie, searching his gaze and seeing something there he hadn’t seen before. “Eddie, remember everything I literally just said about the trial run and friends with benefits.”

Eddie nods in response. His hand still in Steve’s squeezes.

“I don’t want that,” Steve says and panics when he sees the broken look cross over Eddie’s face as he pulls his hand away.

“Sorry, man. I shouldn’t have-”

Steve cuts him off. “It’s because I want more than that, and you deserve more than that. Screw this trial run and all that shit. I want to date you. Like… actually date you and give this a shot. If you want to that is.”

Eddie’s tongue quickly swipes over his top lip over and over nervously as he stares at Steve. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious. God, Eddie, I can’t believe I even suggested friends with benefits like a dick,” Steve says with a groan running a hand through his hair.

“I’m the one who accepted it very willingly I might add,” Eddie says with a big smile that fades to a smaller one. “But I’d love more than anything to make this something more.”

Steve’s stomach flips and he feels absolutely giddy with joy. “Quickest trial run ever, right?”

Eddie laughs. “Thank god.”

Steve leans in and kisses him again before pulling back and saying, “Best communication ever, right? Good thinking on your part.”

“The best thinking,” Eddie says then kisses Steve again.

Steve thinks that maybe he’s finally found what he’s always been searching for (but really doesn’t want to give Robin the credit).

[gaywarcriminals]

Remember that time Xiao Jiu wanted to beat a kid with a brick?

The scene where Shen Jiu threatens Shi Wu is possibly my favorite scene in the whole novel because it tells us so much about qijiu's dynamic, both past and future, and namely, that they're both little freaks (affectionate) who show love in weird ways. I think it particularly exemplifies several of Yue Qingyuan's traits that often go overlooked!

I am just going in order. All excerpts are from the Seven Seas official translation, Volume 4, Chapter 24: Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Jiu fights for resources

“Shen Jiu, don’t think you can just throw your weight around. You don’t own this street. What gives you the right to tell us we can’t stay?!” This main street was wide and even, and many people came and went upon it. If one wanted to beg, it was the best and prime location. Some of the passersby watched this group of children fight, but even more hurried on their way. And this new brat had the gall to challenge him. Shen Jiu looked down and around, preparing to find a brick with which to teach him a lesson, when a tall youth happened to walk over. He saw Shen Jiu rolling up his sleeves, head lowered, and hastily went to stop him. “Xiao-Jiu, let’s go somewhere else.” [...] With Yue Qi standing in front of him, Shiwu grew bold. He leaned forward and yelled, “Every time we go to a new place,you always hog the best spot!

From this we know that Shen Jiu, without fail, tries to claim or fight for the best begging spots in every city. This isn't fully textually supported, but add to that the later section that mentions how Shen Jiu was far better at begging than Yue Qi and I think that, on some level, SJ feels responsible for both his and Yue Qi's wellbeing. Chasing off the other children is not just a selfish act, but also a protective one.

According to the orders given to them, Yue Qi should have wailed and wept, but no matter what, he never could manage to cry. Therefore, this task had instead fallen to Shen Jiu, even though he was faking an illness that supposedly left him too feeble to weep. But he was small and his face wasn’t too unsightly to look at, so whenever he sobbed and bawled, the passersby found him pitiful and generously opened their wallets. It would have been no exaggeration to call him a money tree.

Xiao Jiu fancies himself the breadwinner lol.

How Yue Qi reacts to accusations against Shen Jiu

That first youth took the opportunity to tattle. “Qi-ge, he’s bullying me.” “That wasn’t bullying, Shiwu,” said Yue Qi. “Xiao-Jiu was just joking around.” “Who’s joking?” said Shen Jiu. “I’m telling him to get lost. This is my territory. I’ll kill anyone who tries to steal it.”

I've anyways found this passage so telling of their eventual adult relationship! First of all, Yue Qi implicitly takes Shen Jiu's side, and immediately defends him. This seems to be taken for granted by all characters, so we can assume this is their standard dyanmic. Yue Qi, notably, does not deny that Shen Jiu was threatening Shiwu. In this situation where SJ is actively gearing up for a fight, it would be a very poor defense, and that's probably true of most messes Xiao Jiu got himself into! 

Most of Yue Qi's actions in the scene are attempts to de-escalate. This is just my theory, but I think in Yue Qi's mind, who's at fault is much less important than making sure no one gets in trouble with a higher authority. Even if he knows SJ could win the fight, it would only gain SJ more animosity, and possibly the attention of someone who would be a real danger.

I think it's evident how Yue Qi's ethos of keeping their heads down and not causing trouble or drawing too much attention would feed into how he handled Shen Qingqiu's less commendable behavior as an adult and complaints against Shen Qingqiu.

In the brothel scene later in the extras, we can see that he's conscious of their image. 

Yue Qingyuan yanked Shen Qingqiu off the bed. He was in a rare fit of anger. “Why are you like this?” “Why am I like what?” asked Shen Qingqiu. “Two of Cang Qiong Mountain’s head disciples getting into a huge brawl inside a brothel—does that sound good to you?”

Imo, now entrenched in the politics of the cultivation world, YQY sees protecting SQQ's image/reputation as an important part of protecting SQQ. Yue Qi spent his childhood managing Xiao Jiu, and as an adult, he's not able to so easily break the habit, not matter how SQQ scorns him

Shen Jiu does not get upset by attacks on his character, only from Shiwu calling Yue Qi "Qi-ge"

With Yue Qi standing in front of him, Shiwu grew bold. He leaned forward and yelled, “Every time we go to a new place,you always hog the best spot! Everyone’s been sick of you for ages! You think you’re all that? That everyone’s afraid of you?” “Shiwu,” Yue Qi scolded. Amidst the struggle, Shen Jiu kicked Yue Qi in the shin. “If you want a fight, I’ll give you one. Only losers would blame their spot for their incompetence. You bastard—who’s your Qi-ge? I dare you to say that again!”

Now granted these aren't the most cutting insults, but it's SO interesting to me that Shen Jiu doesn't react to the insults directly. To me, this is a little bit of evidence that, even at this age, Shen Jiu had already decided he was a bad guy, and stopped caring about what others thought of him. The glaring exception to that was, ofc, Yue Qi. I think part of the reason that SJ reactions to the "Qi-ge" specifically, is that Shiwu just said that no one likes Shen Jiu, and then tried to align himself with Yue Qi. I think to SJ, he sees a real threat in the idea of someone else stealing Yue Qi, the one person who likes SJ. SJ is so possessive of Yue Qi not just because he's Qi-ge, but also because, without him, Shen Jiu would have nothing and no one.

Yue Qi tries to deescalate by coaxing/appeasing Shen Jiu

“You’re the bastard! I bet you’ll get sold off soon and end up a pimp!” Yue Qi didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. “Where did you learn that kind of nonsense language?!” Then he dragged Shen Jiu off to the side of the road while coaxing him. “All right, you’re the most competent one here. Even if you didn’t pick and choose your spot, you’d be the best. So let’s change streets.” Shen Jiu stepped on his foot. “Get off me! Like I’m scared! Come on, fight me! Wanna gang up on me? Go ahead!” Of course Yue Qi knew he wasn’t scared. If he really let Shen Jiu brawl with the other kids, he would fight dirty. He’d gouge at their eyes and kick them in the belly or crotch or shin. He was terribly vicious, and the other party would be the one to end up suffering and bawling in terror. Yue Qi forced down a smile. “Are you done stepping on my foot yet? If you are, stop it. Qi-ge will take you somewhere fun.” “What shitty ‘fun’?” Shen Jiu asked savagely. “The most fun I’ll have is if they’re all dead.” Yue Qi looked at him helplessly and shook his head.

Yue Qi only barely scolds Shen Jiu, even when Shen Jiu in the wrong (tried to steal Shiwu's spot and then almost beat up Shiwu). Instead, his reaction is to distract, coax, bribe, and praise him until SJ looses interest in whatever trouble he was going to cause. Yue Qi is so biased, and he spoils him 😂. Even when Yue Qi has so little he can give, he managed to spoil Shen Jiu by giving him so much favor, attention, and affection. 

I think this is something that comes naturally to Yue Qi to the point that he can't help himself from doing the same thing as an adult, even when SJ scorns him. It's just the correct response to seeing a Xiao Jiu! He's the "why do we have hands" meme fr 

Yue Qi smiles imagining Shen Jiu beating up the other kids

Of course Yue Qi knew he wasn’t scared. If he really let Shen Jiu brawl with the other kids, he would fight dirty. He’d gouge at their eyes and kick them in the belly or crotch or shin. He was terribly vicious, and the other party would be the one to end up suffering and bawling in terror. Yue Qi forced down a smile. “Are you done stepping on my foot yet? If you are, stop it. Qi-ge will take you somewhere fun.”

I don't have much to say about this, I just want to remind everyone Yue Qi finds SJ's violent, feral tendencies adorable. This man has no desire to train his cat, and he will insist it's friendly even as it gnaws on his arm.

In Conclusion?

This single scene shows us the trajectory of qijiu's relationship going forward, the strengths of their relationships that became pitfalls. It allows to imagine what they could have become if not torn apart by a world set to doom them.

[in-a-continuous-daydream]

We’ve been talking about the LiB and since they are siblings, which one of them is the eldest, the youngest, whatever. So I present you: our headcanon of the order of the Lords In Black!!

Credits to: @astrolotte , @sweetyeojinnie and @child-of-peace !! We have discussed this quite a lot and it has been so much fun!

So, without further ado, here it is:

1. Wiggly

Okay so, Wiggly is the eldest cause of the obvious, he is the leader of the LiB and seems to have more power over them, this could be because of his eldest son status! We also believe Webby and Wiggly are twins which makes Webby the eldest daughter.

2. Pokey

Pokotho is the second son and he is ABSOLUTELY enraged about it. He’s kind of done with his siblings and is VERY jealous of Wiggly, hence why his whole thing is only wanting to hear his own voice! He is a bit overlooked since Wiggly holds the leadership of the LiB and because of that, he takes the lead anywhere he can, making little hive minds to have control over. Wiggly’s “Don’t frighten them Pokey, you nasty boy!” Makes me believe they have beef lol, and that is exclusively because Pokey is bitter he isn’t the eldest and therefore the leader, so close yet so far.

3. Tinky

Tinky just HAS middle child energy!! He is an attention seeker because he is stuck in the exact middle of the LiB. That’s why he is such a crazy and unhinged guy, he needs attention!

4. Blinky

Blinky isn’t the oldest, he isn’t the youngest and he isn’t in the exact middle, which is why he has conformed with just watching! He is content with the role of viewer and that doesn’t make him any less sadistic. But his middle younger child status has made him more low key.

5. Nibbly

He has youngest sibling energy. And it fits! He has a bit of an overexcited child energy, by constantly commenting stuff on the summoning (Wiggly just ignores him), also, is content with his little sacrifices he gets and hasn’t tried to create a whole apocalypse like the two eldest have!

This is just a headcanon and I love it so much I wanted to share! Feel free to discuss your ideas in the comments or reblogs

[the-travelling-bitch]

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

summary: losing your virginity can be daunting, even more so when you’re dating the avatar of lust; luckily, asmo is only interested in making this as comfortable for you as possible

pairing: asmodeus x fem-bodied! reader (gn pronouns)

warnings: slightly angsty (insecurities) but with comfort, porn with a hint of plot, loss of virginity, corruption kink, use of toys (vibrator), fingering, asmo being a demon+ demon form! asmo, soft!asmo, consent king asmo,  cream pie/ unprotected sex, use of petnames (sweetheart, darling, love, hon/honey), marking

obey me! masterlist

Being with Asmo was borderline perfect; he was an angel of a demon, if you overlooked his crazy parties and the tendency to voice just about every dirty thought coming to mind. With you though, he was always gentle and very patient. Sure, Asmo being Asmo, he has always been very straightforward about how much he wanted you, both in- and outside the bedroom, but he had always reassured you that he loved you no matter what and was willing to wait for you to be comfortable with taking things further.

Truth was, you had never had sex before, something you had told him early on, even if it meant setting your own face ablaze with embarrassment. So the thought of being this inexperienced while your boyfriend was the literal Avatar of Lust had anxiety ball up in your stomach.

Said demon, however, had only cooed at you, pulling you into a soothing hug before confessing that he was already aware of it but that he very much appreciated you being so honest with him. That was the day you learnt lust demons apparently had a knack for spotting if someone was a virgin or not and you considered crawling into a dark cave and never coming out again.

You had, however, decided against it and had continued your life in the Devildom as usual… well as usual as a human living in literal hell could be. After your conversation with Asmo, you had found yourself lying in bed at night, your thoughts swirling around the cute demon and quickly drifting into more sexual directions, especially on days where you’d spent a lot of time with and around him. Faintly you had wondered if his charm worked on you after all, but you had tossed the thought aside with your panties as you tried to scratch the desire inside of you, desperately trying to bring yourself to a high with your fingers but only ever ending up frustrated between your crumpled sheets.

Perhaps motivated by your denied pleasure, you had stammered out you were ready to take your relationship to the next stage, making Asmo pause scrolling through Devilgram and turning his entire attention on you. Your hands had felt clammy as they curled into his plush comforter and you had avoided looking at him but soon thereafter, soft fingers had grazed your chin and pulled you out of your own head and back to the demon looking at you with so much love and adoration in his sunset-coloured eyes. 

“Thank you for trusting me,” he had said as he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “It means a lot to me.”

After making sure you didn’t feel pressured into this decision, Asmo had sat you down and worked out what you felt comfortable with, what didn’t appeal to you at all and what you weren’t sure about, all under the rule of being subject to change in the future. He had also asked about any experience you had, whether that was using your fingers or if you owned any toys. Upon hearing you used to have one but that it was still up in the human realm, he had playfully suggested going shopping for a replacement. Despite having nudged his side at the comment, you really appreciated him taking the time to understand your situation and you felt significantly less nervous about your inexperience after talking to him.

Against what some might think of him, Asmo had not tried to jump you the second you had given him the go ahead, no. Instead, he treated you to a relaxing self-care evening to ‘scrub away the stress that must have come from making that decision’, letting you soak in his grand bathtub, sharing his expensive creams with you, painting your nails and doing face masks with you. 

In fact, it wasn’t until you were lying on his bed another night, curled up in his warm embrace while watching a film, that anything changed at all. It wasn’t even that the scenes on screen were particularly spicy but something about being so entirely surrounded by him, whether it was his sheets, the scent of his shower gel clinging to his skin or his cologne drifting up to your nose from the shirt you had snatched from his closet, made you crave the demon lying behind you. 

“Asmo,” you crooned, shifting to face him as he hummed at your call, bright eyes blinking down at you curiously. 

“What is it, honey?” Using this chance to sneak some affection, he leant down to let his lips wander over the juncture where your shoulder met your neck, inadvertently encouraging the desire starting to pool below your navel.

“Do you… do you remember what we talked about when we had that spa evening last time?” You gingerly asked, skirting along the edges of the topic at hand.

“We talked about lots of things.” His chuckles vibrated against your collarbones. “You have to be more specific than that.”

“You know what I mean!” You whined. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to or I might be getting the wrong idea, darling,” he said, tongue trailing your soft skin and amusement clear in his voice. “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“I- I think you might be getting the right idea,” you stammered, your heart beating out of your chest to the point you were afraid it might jump right into his hands. Not that it wasn’t already lying there in a metaphorical sense, at the point of melting as he poked it to his liking with his perfectly manicured hands. “Asmo…”

“Hmm?~” This time the amusement in his voice was apparent, the demon not even trying to hide it.

“Kiss me… Please…” Your whisper was quiet as your eyes skirted down to his glossy lips, before flicking up to his again as one of his fingers traced the curve of your bottom lip.

“So polite~” You watched his stunning eyes slide to half-mast as he leaned in, stopping right as his lips brushed yours, just to tease you even more by moving his head back and making you subconsciously chase his lips. He chuckled airily. “Guess I can’t deny a sweet thing like you, especially when you ask so nicely.”

Then he connected your lips seamlessly, enveloping yours in a pillowy softness you’d only ever find in dreams. Slowly, his hand found its way to the back of your head, nails massaging your scalp gently as he angled your head the way he pleased to guide the kiss. When his tongue swiped languidly over your lips, coaxing you into allowing him entrance, Asmo skilfully pulled the first moan out of you and swallowed it eagerly.

You ran a curious hand up his chest as he deepened the kiss, pure passion radiating off of him and seeping into your brain, jumbling your thoughts around like clinking marbles. With your mind fogging over with lust, it was all too easy for him to roll you over, slotting himself on top of you, careful to not put most of his weight on you.

Following his eager hands running down your sides, Asmo’s lips, too, trailed downwards, leaving lipgloss smudges all over your jaw, throat and collarbones. You couldn’t see it, your eyes closed as you basked in his attention, but Asmo’s downright glowed in his dimly lit room as you tilted your head to the side and bared your vulnerable neck further to him. 

“Oh sweetheart, you’re so good to me,” he crooned, as he licked his lips, drinking in the sight of you, hair dishevelled, collar of his shirt pulled down and his gloss shimmering against your skin. It was a sight that could only be improved upon by getting you to writhe in his sheets as strings of pleasured moans spilled from your lips. Oh, Asmo could already feel his fingers tingle at the image, a shiver running down his spine in anticipation. Well, the best way to get you there would be to get you au naturel first.

Playful fingers crept under the hem of his shirt, dancing along the growing sliver of skin he was exposing, his pearly white teeth showing in a fanged smile at the goosebumps rising in the wake of his touch. 

“You’re too cute for your own good,” he mumbled, almost dazed, as his lips attached to your skin once more, tongue darting out for a first taste, one that made him groan low in his throat and crave more. “So sweet~ How did a darling thing like you fall into the hands of an Avatar of Sin? I bet every demon down here would love to sink their claws into a human like you. But too bad, you’re all mine. All mine to taint.”

The whimper the demon pulled from you as his nails traced over the sensitive skin of your stomach was pure music to his ears and he’d be more damned than he already was if he couldn’t hear any more of your sweet sounds. Though, this night was about you. He’d make sure you were comfortable, that your first sexual experience with someone else would be pleasurable. After all, once you had a taste, he was sure you’d come back to him for more all on your own.

“Darling, can I take this off?” He tugged on the hem of the shirt that was already halfway up your chest. When you only nodded with pleading eyes, he giggled at your enthusiasm but still caught your chin with two fingers. “Sorry, love, but that won’t do. I need your genuine, verbal consent, even if we’ve done this before. Doesn’t matter if I have to pull it from your pleasure-clouded brain later on as long as it’s the truth. So you better memorise that fast, alright?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out as he placed a quick kiss against your temple. Your fingers pushed a soft strand of champagne-coloured hair out of his face, giving you a better look at his slightly dilated pupils before you spoke again. “Help me take my shirt off, please?”

“Sure can do,” Asmo hummed before carefully sliding the garment over your head and arms. When you’d snuggled into bed with him earlier, you’d foregone a bra for the sake of comfort and, now, skilled fingers immediately traced the path of your collarbones, down your sternum before cupping your breasts. “See how perfect these look between my hands? It’s like they’re meant to be worshipped by me.”

It wasn’t the first time you were nude in front of Asmo and it also wasn’t the first time he’d touched you. From bathing together to choosing an outfit, he’d always been a very hands-on kinda guy, as long as you let him. It was, however, the first time where he was working you up for more with his touch and it made your lungs constrict with equal parts nerves and excitement.

If that hadn’t been clear from how he massaged the supple flesh between his palms, it would have definitely been understood when his pink lips wrapped around one of your nipples, fangs slightly indenting the skin around it, while his fingers rolled the other one between them. Despite the new sensation, it felt good, your hand finding its way back into his hair, carding through the strands as you exhaled slowly. 

When Asmo was happy with the marks he left all over your chest, he licked over some of the deeper bites, even if he never broke skin at any point, before trailing kisses further down your centre. By now, there was no lipgloss left to smudge, no matter how kiss-proof it was supposed to be. 

Reaching your hips, his sharp teeth caught the waistband of your pyjama pants, snapping the elastic back against your skin when he pulled away to slide the remaining garments down your legs, again with your approval. Gliding his smooth hands up your bare legs, parting them as he resumed his position between them, Asmo guided your thighs to rest over his. The compromising position had heat curling in your abdomen and your heart rate speeding up without him actually touching you yet.

“Is this alright, darling?” He checked in with you, head coquettishly tilted to the side. “Although there’s no need to be nervous, I want to remind you that we can stop at any point, okay?”

“I know,” you confirmed. “But I want this, Asmo. I want you.”

“My, my, you certainly know what to say to make me excited. Look at you, you look so beautiful with your legs spread out for me. Oh this is going to be so much fun, I’ll make you feel so good.” While he was speaking, his fingers had already wandered up the inside of your thigh, his touch so light you barely felt it against you, yet it had the most tantalising effect. Especially when he skirted around the sensitive area of your core, never quite touching where you needed him most, your hips wriggled for more friction on their own. Something Asmo shut down with a playful tut and a hand pushing you back down, his demonic strength making itself known. “Ah ah ah, sweetheart. We agreed that I’d guide you through your first time, right? So be good and behave and I’ll give you exactly what you want~”

“Asmo, please don’t tease me.” Despite your words, you couldn’t deny that it felt good. Not when you could feel the way your slick started to coat your folds the more he stroked his nails around them. 

“But you look so cute like this, I have to indulge just a little,” he giggled. Then, without a heads up, he swiped his thumb through your slit, catching some of your arousal and smearing it over your clit with scary accuracy. Surprised by the sudden stimulation, you let out an audible gasp as your hips twitched in his hold. “Ooh, that was a gorgeous face. Show me more.”

Without much resistance, he slid one finger inside your entrance, savouring your warmth around him before setting a steady pace and checking your reactions. When there was no discomfort from your side, he soon added a second one, changing the angle every now and then to map out your body.

Getting to work yourself definitely didn’t compare to how Asmo curled his fingers inside of you, the experience of someone else in charge of the movements providing a level of excitement you didn’t have on your own. And while it clearly wound the knot in your stomach tighter than ever before, it still wasn’t enough to get you there and wisps of anxiety slithered past the cracks in your lust.

Shouldn’t this feel amazing? Shouldn’t you be at the point of shamelessly moaning his name by now? But if you couldn’t even orgasm like this, with the Avatar of Lust between your legs, was there something wrong with you? What if—?

The pressure of his thumb running circle eights against your clit effectively cut off your string of doubts as you inhaled a sharp breath, clenching down around the fingers working your insides.

“You’re overthinking again, love. Lust isn’t something you think about, you just feel it. There’s nothing wrong with taking your time, we’re both learning together here.” Asmo leant down to pepper a few kisses around your navel, his voice patient and gentle before picking up a little mischief. “But if your brain decides to be mean, I might just have to shut it off completely.”

That promise certainly made you clamp down harder on him, a shiver running down your spine in anticipation. In turn, Asmo let out a laugh as he eased his fingers out of you, his eyes fluttering shut and a lewd moan bouncing around the room as he cleaned his fingers off with his tongue. The sound would’ve made you rub your thighs together if Asmo’s waist wasn’t preventing you from closing them. 

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you on your very first orgasm but I promised I’d make you feel amazing and I’m holding myself to that.” With a snap of his fingers, something small and pink appeared in his hand, something you identified as a small vibrator. To test the waters, he let the thing buzz to live before gently rolling it closer to your sensitive areas. “You don’t mind this little buddy joining us, do you?”

When the vibrations rolled against your clit, you opened your mouth with a surprised noise, your knees locking his hips in between them. “N-No I don’t mind.”

The demon downright purred in satisfaction as he brought his fingers back to your pussy and resumed his thrusting, still experimenting with the angle and the settings on the toy. Your mind was starting to race again as he hit a different spot inside you and focused the vibrator on a different area and- 

“Oh!” You threw your head back into the pillows, one hand digging into Asmo’s hair, the other into his sheets, as you locked your feet over his butt, his pact mark tingling against your skin. The spasming of your hips was reigned in by the palm holding the vibrator when your back arched off his mattress and your teary eyes clenched shut. Your lips parted in an ‘o’ shape as laboured breaths and rhythmic moans passed through them.

The sight of you giving into pleasure had Asmo’s hips rolling into the bed of their own accord in time with your walls fluttering around his digits, the lust oozing from you as you approached your high making him near delirious with power. 

“Is that it, darling? Is that the spot?” He moaned, his dick straining against the fabric of his underwear as he kept the pace and angle of his thrust consistent, his mind swimming with desire for you, fuelled by the pleasure he was already giving to you. “That’s it, you’re doing so well, you’re almost there. You look so gorgeous falling apart on my fingers, such a perfect human, giving yourself to me. Come on, cum all over my hand, I know you want to.”

You followed his voice through the fog like a sailor following a siren as he pushed you further and further towards release, your stomach clenching and unclenching without any rhythm now. If you didn’t fall over the edge soon, you thought, you’d truly go insane over the foreign pleasure he made you experience, his hands not letting you wriggle away from the intensity.

Then, with a loud moan of his name, bliss washed over you, from your thrown-back head to your curling toes and it made everything worth it. You could feel the pleasure sizzling through your veins like molten lava, melting your bones and leaving you to writhe on his sheets. 

Asmo continued to languidly pump his fingers, coaxing as much arousal from you as he could while the vibrator was still buzzing on the lowest setting until you pushed his hands away when the overstimulation started getting to you.

Leaving you to catch your breath and return to your body, Asmo held eye contact with you, sunsets half-lidded before fluttering shut completely when he brought his fingers up to his mouth. Like he’d done earlier, he cleaned your slick off of them, but this time his moan was obscene as he pressed his hips down into the mattress, his tongue flicking out provocatively as he licked in between his digits. 

“Mhm, just as I thought, you taste divine~” Asmo’s tongue flicked over his lips, catching every bit of your desire clinging to them. “It’s hard to find a delicacy like this in the Devildom, so sweet I could eat you right up. Next time I’ll have to help myself to a proper taste but I know what you really want right now.”

Pulling your centre flush to his hips you could feel his erection through the smooth silk of his pyjama shorts, the material soaking through with your release immediately and clinging to your folds as he rubbed his dick against you. Both of you sighed in unison at the welcome friction; gone were your anxious nerves, you needed to feel him inside of you now. And you weren’t above telling him either.

“Asmo, please, I need you so bad,” you whined, hands trying to reach for him but merely grazing over his hips. “I want you so much, please.”

You watched him shudder at your begging as his hands reached to unbutton his sleep shirt, the pink silk slipping off his shoulders, slowly revealing more and more of his flawless skin. He was basking in your undivided attention on him, making sure to pose perfectly to give you a show, despite having you in his bed already. It was working in his favour though because, as the light framed his champagne locks perfectly, he could see your eyes rake all over him and your fingers twitching to feel his skin against yours.

He took his time sliding his stained bottoms off, revelling in the way your lips parted as his dick slapped against the planes of his abdomen. Just like the rest of him, it was perfect. Flushed a light pink towards the tip with a few veins decorating the shaft, Asmo was just the right amount of length and girth to make your mouth water and walls clench around nothing, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Like what you see, pretty?” He teased as he settled back above you, his natural body heat enveloping you once more as he leaned up to press more open mouthed kisses along the path of your collarbones, throat and shoulders, his tongue darting out to taste the salty flavour sticking to your skin. 

Warm hands caressed your hips in soothing circles as you wrapped your arms around his neck, the gesture so gentle in contrast to the words being spoken against the shell of your ear. “So beautiful, so sensitive, so soft, I can’t wait to ruin a pretty thing like you. All you have to do is relax and indulge; you can do that for me, right? Just give in to the pleasure, give in to me, and let me do the rest.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, dazed by his close proximity, “I can do that.”

“Such an obedient human, you make me so proud,” Asmo cooed. Shifting his weight onto one forearm, his other palm slid down your body, wrapping around your thigh to hike it over his waist. The position allowed him to thrust his cock through your folds, coating himself in your slick and catching your clit on every forward motion. 

This time there was no mistaking it, his eyes did glow in the dim room, shifting between your bodies and your face, your mewls of stimulation and the tears clinging to your lashes drawing his attention effortlessly. Without resistance, he let you pull him down for a deep kiss, one full of passion and want and need, mirroring perfectly how your hips had started bucking up against him. 

Swallowing each of your breathless noises, Asmo parted from you by tugging on your bottom lips, fangs digging into the plushness. “Are you ready? If anything makes you uncomfortable, tell me immediately.”

When you gave him the okay, he positioned the glistening head of his dick against your soaked entrance before taking his time to push past the first tight ring of muscle. He let his head drop forward as your warmth enveloped him, whereas you threw yours back against the pillows at the stretch. 

There was a slight sting as he pushed in further but it was completely drowned out by the addictive feeling of being filled. You couldn’t believe you went so long without his veins gliding against your velvety walls, clinging to him as if they tried to remember his shape only. If this was lust then you understood why Asmo as its embodiment was so entrancing and alluring.

Said demon exhaled a shaky breath as he bottomed out, his hips flush with yours, willing himself to hold still as you adjusted to his size. Throughout the centuries, he’d thought he’d made just about every experience he could, always making sure whoever he was with had their needs met. He’d charmed countless humans, demons and one or the other angel alike, tumbled into their beds and fed off their lust, satiating both himself and them.

But there was something different about this. This night, there was seemingly no end to his desire; he craved more, he needed more of you. Of you and your lust. Just like when you shared your power with him, there was something about the sin dripping off of you that made it hard to control himself.

Luckily, you were just as impatient to feel more of him as he was, every initial inhibition thrown out the window. Instead, you pressed the heel of your foot into his lower back, encouraging him to go even deeper than he already was. “Asmo, move, please…”

Not needing to be asked twice, he pulled his hips back until only the tip remained inside before thrusting all the way back in, setting a slow but deep pace that had you twisting in his hold. Using the knowledge of your body he’d gained earlier, he had no problems hitting your most sensitive spot dead on to see your back bow in sheer ecstasy.

Embarrassed by the lewd moans and whines echoing around his room, you bit down on the back of your hand, trying desperately to muffle the sounds, only for Asmo’s fingers to curl around your wrist and pull it away again.

“None of that, darling, I want to hear you. You sound so cute with my name on your lips like it’s the only thing you can think about, don’t deny me this pleasure.” He punctuated his sentence by delivering a particularly hard stroke to tear a sinful moan from you as he intertwined your hands, squeezing down on your fingers as you clamped around his cock. “Besides, if anyone gets to bite you, it’s me.”

Now, with your hand pinned beside your head, all your noises were spilling freely, combining with the sound of skin slapping and the obscene squelch of your cunt fluttering around Asmo’s girth to create the most beautiful symphony. Your body felt like it was on fire, the demon burning you from the inside out as beads of sweat started rolling down your temple when the clenching of your walls around your lover started gaining in frequency again.

Trusting you to keep your hand away from your mouth, Asmo slipped it between your bodies, circling your clit and pushing you to greater heights than before, encouraging you to cream all over him. Losing yourself in pleasure, your sentences became more incoherent, all rationale seeping from your mind.

“Oh my god! Asmo!” You wailed at a specific thrust that made your knees jerk against him, free hand tugging on the roots of his hair, clamping down harder at his melodic groan that followed.

“Praying to a demon? What a naughty human,” he chuckled, voice now a lot more strained, his focus entirely on working you up further. “You should’ve learnt by now not to tempt a demon but you’ll see where that lands you.”

The knot in your stomach was so close to snapping, various muscles already flexing under the onslaught of pleasure. You just needed a little more.

The Avatar of Lust was almost in disbelief at how close he was himself. Normally he had better control than this, able to outlast just about anyone if he so desired. Yet, on this night, control was slipping from in between his dexterous fingers faster than he wanted to admit. Seeing you shed your inhibitions and submitting yourself entirely to him and his sin, however, was driving him wild. The ecstasy cursing through your pact only added to the sensation. It was entirely different to any other fling he’d had over the centuries.

Asmo was positively drunk on you, the essence of your lust flooding his senses and making him tremble where he pressed you deeper into the mattress. Pure power was clouding his mind and every one of his nerve endings felt like lightning was passing through it.

There was a rustling in the sex-heavy air as his leathery wings unfurled behind him, flapping with each jerk of his hips. Claws were digging into the skin of your thigh as he tightened his grip on you, no doubt leaving little imprints to find in the morning. Your hand in his hair now closed around the base of one of his horns, feeling the ridges of each segment dig into your palm. 

When he went back to sucking on the sensitive spot at the base of your neck, sharp fangs scraped against the skin of your throat, a silent reminder of the true nature hiding behind his bubbly personality. Yet, the notion that one of the most dangerous demons of hell was currently so close to all your most vulnerable areas didn’t scare you. If anything, it was exciting.

Before you could do so much as warn him, you seized up around him, pushing yourself as close to Asmo as you could when you came with a loud moan of his name on your lips. Wave after wave of sinful bliss washed over you, pulling you in whatever direction they pleased, like a shaky leaf on the tides. 

The sensation shot straight through your pact and down Asmo’s spine, his hips stuttering as he groaned so low in his chest it almost sounded like an animalistic growl. You felt like a doll with its strings cut, boneless and floating as he rode out your orgasm while chasing his own, following no rhythm but still teetering you on the verge of overstimulation.

With one final snap of his pelvis, he pushed himself in as far as he could before searing hot ropes of cum painted the depths of your insides white. Rolling his hips, he coaxed the last bit of pleasure from both of you, then collapsed on top of you to catch his breath. 

For a few seconds, only the sound of your shared breathing could be heard, heartbeats in sync against each other’s chest as Asmo lazily pressed more kisses along your skin, especially in places where he’d left a visible mark. You were in return carding your fingers through his sweat-matted hair, tracing the curve of his horns gently with your fingers. The sensation made him giggle.

“That was a first for me, too,” the demon admitted, sounding not at all shy about it.

“Hm? What was?”

“I don’t usually slip into my demon form without meaning to,” he answered your curiosity. When bright eyes met yours, there was so much adoration shining in them you were glad your knees couldn’t physically buckle. “But you looked so beautiful and felt so amazing, I was transforming before I even knew what was happening. More importantly though, what about you? I sure hope I could live up to the expectation.”

“No, you far surpassed it,” you chuckled. “To the point where I seriously doubt anyone else could make me feel this way.”

“That’s good,” he mused, wiping away a stray tear drying on your cheek. “I’m hardly a possessive guy but with you it’s different. The thought of someone else seeing you like this, of you moaning someone else's name, bothers me. I want to be the only one driving you to sin in this way.”

“I think that can be arranged,” you hummed playfully. Leaning down, you gave the crown of his hair a loving peck and he laughed into the crook of your neck.

“Come on, darling, let’s get you cleaned up,” Asmo cooed, carefully pulling out of you and taking a moment to appreciate the visual of his cum dripping out of you and onto his sheets. 

Holding out his hand for you to take, he waited as you uncurled yourself from the bed, gingerly swinging your legs over the side of the mattress. Only to almost greet the floor as your wobbly legs gave out underneath you as if they were made out of jelly. Despite being busy laughing, Asmo still caught you effortlessly, supporting your weight before sweeping you entirely off your feet and carrying you to the bathroom bridal style. Again, his slender build betrayed his true strength, lifting you as if you didn’t weigh much more than a feather.

“Oops, I should’ve warned you,” he sing-songed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Although you flatter me, you could’ve just told me I fucked you good enough for you to lose the ability to walk.”

“Stop making fun of me!” You whined, hands coming up to hide your face, which might as well be set ablaze from the heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Oh I’m not making fun of you, sweetheart. You’re just so adorable, I can’t help myself,” Asmo laughed that airy laugh of his. When you looked up at him, his half-lidded gaze was already on you as he licked his lips, fangs peeking out as you noted he still hadn’t shifted back into his more human form. His voice dropped as he studied the way your throat convulsed when you swallowed.

“In fact, you’re so sweet, I just might make good on my promise to eat you up once I get you into the bathtub.”

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