#the communal eating this is so sweet tho; i hope that stays

[ice-knife]

11 AND 40 FOR POPPY! PLEASE AND THANK YOU!

of course!! mwah mwah! <33 // DnD ask meme

11. How does your PC show affection?

poppy tends to be obvious with her affection, but also a bit of a shithead with it. if you get a nickname from her, she likes you. if she's punching you in the shoulder for a joke you've made, she likes you. if she's making a joke about you, she probably likes you and figures your skin is thick enough to take it. she also likes to do favours for the people she likes, without necessarily expecting a favour back

40. What are your PC’s eating habits?

girlie tends to eat when she's hungry, and is hungry fairly often given the physical labour she's used to doing. if three squares aren't in the cards, she'll take a big breakfast and a big dinner. she likes to have something warm to drink first thing in the morning -- coffee, tea, cocoa, bone broth, whatever you've got as long as it'll warm her up

she's also big on the idea of eating communally, and has not had a meal alone as long as she can remember. whether it was with her parents (or just with her poppa) or with fellow farmhands, she's liked to have company to eat with

[astro-rainbow777]

💐🌸 𝓣𝓪𝓾𝓻𝓾𝓼 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓼 🧸🌱

♉︎ - Happy Taurus Season Everyone!!! In honor of Taurus season, I am continuing the signs through the houses series. I hope y’all enjoy my findings & this post serves you well. Thanks so much for all of the support! Happy Spring & Upcoming Beltane to the Pagan Community <3

🌸 Taurus in the First House ~ Taurus on the ascendant is the embodiment of peace, calm and pleasure. These natives aren’t the most outgoing but leave such a comfortable and cozy first impression. They don’t say more than needs to be said, however they are unlikely to turn down a conversation. They have a soft and natural beauty about them and strong familial values. They enjoy the finer things, have a clean aesthetic and a “rich” aura. Many of them are shorter or more petitie in size, have a pleasing and smooth voice and kind eyes. However, if you mess with the bull, you’ll get the horns! Being on the opposing end of Scorpio, when they cut you off, it is completely. Good luck getting back into their lives because they are a closed book. Why y’all always smell good? Fr tho

🐂 Taurus in the Second House ~ Here the sign is in its ruling house, they do very well in saving their money, are picky about what they eat and indulge in the material pleasures of life. They value loyalty, commitment, stability and security - not to mention their love fashion & the arts. They will tell you they have the most exquisite taste, you would find it very difficult to change their mind. They hold up strong values and morales, what they know to be right and wrong is the truth. This is a very secure personality, they are very comfortable with their bodies, and have a healthy sense of worth and self love. Honestly such a healthy placement - as someone with NO earth in their chart - muhbenaaaace

💰 Taurus in the Third House ~ These natives find security and peace in their childhood homes, where they grew up, the memories of their cousins and siblings. They could be the most stable or the least stable out of their siblings. The way they think, learn and communicate is slow and methodical. They take their time in studying new topics, preferring to stay on the surface of a topic. They may have an artistic and beautiful singing voice, or maybe the way they speak is just very polite and sweet. They were raised with manners and this makes them very charming. They can have a liking for music that moves at a slower pace, classical music, or just a more elegant taste in art.

🥘 Taurus in the Fourth House ~ Their family could be a source of stability and security for them. The mom, mother figure or more feminine role model can be the bread winner in the family, her love language could be gifts, an amazing cook, and give a lot of hugs 🫂 They have stable emotions, it takes a lot to emotionally sway them. It may end up bothering people who try to get an emotional reaction from them because of this. They can be the most grounded one in their family. Their family may view them as realistic, practical and reliable. Family is what gives them sanction from the world.

💝 Taurus in the Fifth House ~ They express them selves in a very material type of way, their flex is their finances. These natives take a lot of pride in what they have...this usually comes from a place of having to work really hard for their things. They love the natural look, minimalist, they like long lasting, high quality, practical fashion. To them that is the best statement to make. They don’t like that trash to treasure look their tastes are refined. They will shower their kids with the finer things and really enjoy providing for them - this will be their love language. They aren’t huge adrenaline junkies and enjoy more grounded, chill hobbies. They definitely don’t mind being alone and love their down time at home…on the couch…snacks…naps…repeat.

🐻 Taurus in the 6th ~ These natives prefer a slow start to their daily routine, and enjoy a slow paced job, with chill yet organized coworkers. The workplace must be something that they don’t hate… because if they hate it and it stresses them out just thinking of going, they won’t work there. Period. They need low maintenance pets as these individuals are very independent in nature. It’s important for their day job to be a place of peace and pleasure for them, and once they are comfortable, it’s gonna be hard to get them to leave. Their job can provide them with sooooo much stability if they have a good one.

🍨 Taurus in the 7th ~ Wining and Dining with your loved ones! Shopping sprees, luxurious and high quality partners. With the ones they love the most, they spoil, eat and they just want to be lazy with them honestly. They want their relationships to be a place of peace for them. It’s important that their partner can support themselves and is stable on their own. It will just cause them stress if they are constantly worrying about having to take care or mommy their partner. It’s possible that they can stay with someone out of fear of the unknown/change, even tho they don’t like them or it’s not working anymore.

🌷 Taurus in the Eighth House ~ Cycles related to self esteem, self worth, and supporting themselves. Honestly, this is a really hard placement to have- they may have times where they stay in ab*sive relationships because they can’t support themselves financially or they are too uncomfortable alone. However, the eighth house is notorious for taking your greatest fear/weakness and turning it into their super power. You just have to get through those lessons and take those leaps of faith to unlock that power and hidden potential! They like to engage in their senses when they’re intimate with their partners and prefer slow love making rather than the raw primal stuff.

🪴 Taurus in the Ninth House ~ These people can be a little fixed in their beliefs, their spiritual beliefs/religion can be a source stability and sanction for them. If they aren’t necessarily spiritual- they could just have a specific philosophy or lifestyle that they stick to. What I admire about these individuals, is they know exactly what they want. When they travel, it has to be somewhere where they know exactly what to expect, somewhere that won’t give them anxiety, and probably a more luxurious staycation type of experience. They could also enjoy a nice nature walk with their loved ones.

👛 Taurus in the Tenth House ~ Every single person I have met with this placement neeeeeed a stable job, they will not leave a job if it provides them with the type of lifestyle they desire. It doesn’t really matter what they are doing for their career as long as it aligns with their values. Their dad/father figure could have been the sole provider and could have made a huge impact on their reputation. This is definitely a daddies money placement 💀 - sorry if that’s triggering for anyone lol. The father figure could be super down to earth and chill, enjoy cooking or just be way too overly indulgent in a negative manifestation.

👒 Taurus in the Eleventh House ~ Is the stay at home friend, doesn’t like to get out of their comfort zone to meet new people. Much likely to want to stay inside and bond with their community in a space that is familiar and inviting to them. Their community could be their sanction and be the most stable part of their lives. They enjoy cooking and creating art for their friends. Anything to bring peace to their homies senses! For their friends, the Taurus eleventh house native’s place is a home away from home. How special 🥹

👄 Taurus in the Twelfth House ~ When it comes to matters of the twelfth house, spirituality, isolation, ect. - these individuals may like to keep things light and on the surface. They are comfortable being alone, in fact they consider it to be comfortable and safe. Their spirituality isn’t something they spend time questioning, and they could be very comfortable with the unknown, they enjoy their own curious nature. They are endearing to their own selves, however sometimes their sense of worth could be confusing. They may have a hard time understanding their own values and morals, preferring to just go with the flow, everyday they are a new person trying on different personalities, hobbies and styles! The possibilities are endless! It’s quite an interesting placement. One more thing….secret indulgences…the silent snacker

Smell ya later!

[fanfiction-blep]

Could I request a Jake and Na'vi reader smut drabble! if you could include face riding and Jake being a soft dom/brat tamer? only if you you have time!

Also I've been on you're page for a bit and you give off such mommy energy <3

Hi bby! So sweet of you to say! Of course I’m happy to write short images while working on the ghost series! Hope you enjoy I did my best!

Jake Sully Smutty Drabble

Edit: (I wrote this at like 1am forgive me) Warnings: Oral f/receiveing, sex, light bondage, overstimulation and daddy kink.

• okay so have we just accepted as a community this man LOVES eating pussy? Because at this point it’s basically cannon. Like any position? All fours, on your back but especially riding his face. He’s gets so lost in how you taste he can’t even think straight anymore. Arms wrapped tightly against the back of your tights holding you place as best he can. Once he’s got you in the perfect position, one where he can suck on your clit and run his tongue through your folds he’ll hold you there. There is no way your moving, good luck trying honey!

• The first time you asked him to eat you out he couldn’t even describe how happy he was. He was sat around your living space cleaning up his weapons, when you walked in fingers fiddling with your cloths. Your eyes low to the ground. “What’s going on baby? You okay?” You wouldn’t be able to look at him, he couldn’t even hear what you had said at first. “Need your mouth daddy, please?” The whine that left that man’s lips was sinful “come here baby, come sit on daddy’s face” and I can promise you he didn’t let you go. In fact you were so fucked out from his tongue he had to let you sleep in the next day. It was a legs shaking pussy squirting kind of night.

• Jake strikes me as a pleasure dom, alongside being a brat tamer the two go hand in hand with this man.

• He will have you on top of him, a mixture of your juices and his saliva covering his mouth and cheeks, slowly just dripping down his chin. He will be strict while eating you out, mumbling threats through your moans. “If ya don’t quit squirmin’ I won’t let ya cum” “stay still for daddy okay? “Mmm such a good girl for daddy”

• This man has a 3x rule, you have to cum three times on his face or from his mouth before he does anything else. He’s very strict about it. He can’t help it, they way you whimper and whine as he thrusts his tongue into you slowly, pushing his fingers against your skin. He can’t help but keep going even when your begging him to stop.

• He will use his fangs to his advantage at some point. Tracing his teeth against the skin of your thigh. Lightly nipping at your folds.

• He really can’t help it! He gets drunk on your pussy. It’s like his brain shuts off and he just wants to hear all the different noises he can make you produce. If you make a noise he has never been able to pull out of you before he will not stop no matter how many times you cum. “Is this the spot? Hmm?” “Common Princess make those pretty noises for daddy” “this the spot?” “Oooooo there it is, there ya go baby girl. Get noisy for daddy” even with you sat on his face he is a dirty talker!

• If you miss behave, act out or just plain brat him? He will use over stimulation as a punishment or the reverse on occasion.

• “You want my attention? Here I am baby girl now take what you get” he will have you crying from the overstimulation and this is where the Brat tamer takes over and the Pleasure dom steps down. “Awe, you look so pretty when you cry baby. I ain’t stoppin’ tho. You gotta take your punishment like a good girl okay” as this point his hands would be running up and down your thighs.

• In general His brat tamer side only comes out when you push it. “Did you eat today Princess?” If you shake your head he’ll hand you some water, now we all know that you’ll refuse and he’ll lean in real close. “If ya don’t drink your water, I’ll make ya. And then I’ll put something else in your mouth, huh?” “Behave, fuckin’ brat”

• Oh if he is pushed? He’ll have you tied up unable to move (he really likes being completely in control) or he will have you on his lap rutting into you harshly, gripping onto the flesh of your hips. Pushing and pulling you on his cock.

• Jake is a sweet lover, he enjoys talking to you. Knowing that he’s making you feel good. I imagine him kissing up and down your body. “Your so pretty baby, all mine”

• I think he is also big on teasing you. He’ll stand behind you tail wrapping around your leg. He’ll lean in close and whisper in your ear “you look so pretty today princess” sometimes he’ll even trace the markings of your skin, fingers dancing against you.

• Most of the time he is just a wholesome soft dom. He just wants to take care of you, and he wants you to listen. And when you do he is the KING of praise.

• “Oh that’s right baby” “your taking my cock so well” “your so beautiful Princess”

• “gonna make you feel so good, you’ve been so good today baby” “common just a little more, you can take it” Oh yeah man is HUNG. So sometimes it takes a while for you to adjust to his size and though he wouldn’t admit it out loud he enjoys when you complain of pain a little, it boots his ego. “You gotta work me baby, let daddy make you feel good. Wanna make you feel sooo good”

• He is amazing at aftercare. It’s his favourite part of sex, or even simply intimate moments with you. (As any dom should) He’ll hold you close, kissing your eyes wiping away any extra tears or juices covering your skin. He uses his tongue to clean you up a lot. If your in pain he’ll dig his fingers into your muscles trying to ease them and reduce any aching. If he caused any kind of marking he’ll not shop apologising. “Fuck I’m so sorry sweetheart, ya not hurt right?” You both learned to keep a snack basket near your sleeping area. So that he could feed you and hydrate you (both of you!)

Keep sending me requests my loves I always appreciate them!

[cupcakes-and-pain]

Presents

Woohoo double update! Don’t get used to it tho lol sorry

Masterlist

CW: vampire caretaker, multiple whumpees, institutionalized slavery, caretaker new master, selective mutism, fear of punishment, panic attack, Roy being big of heart but dumb of ass,

———

The ride back was unsettling, but at least Master allowed them to sit in the seats. It was senseless kindness, one that they will have to repay, but at least it was comfortable. Dew hated punishment, but at least she could curl up on a cushy seat in a beautiful car beforehand.

The first thing Dew noticed when they arrived was that Master’s house was tiny for a vampire. She originally was astonished that he had such a huge building all to himself until he mentioned a landlady. Drop elbowed her in the ribs, wanting to ask a question. She tried to subtly shake her head “no” but he just. Would not listen. Typical.

“So, master, you have a landlady? What is that?”

“Oh! Yeah, you’ve probably only ever lived in mansions. Well, my place might be a little bit of a downgrade, but it’s still pretty big. It’s the penthouse suite and the biggest space of this entire apartment complex. It takes up most of the top floor.”

Master showed them around, but Dew started to worry. It didn’t even take up the last floor completely. Master would be able to hear them constantly and know what they messed and or spoke out of turn. They were totally exposed.

A quick glance at Drop told her that he knew it too. This house was much smaller than any other vampire, but perhaps Master knew that. He realized that his super hearing had limits and chose a house according. So sneaky. So cruel. Dew’s breathing began to pick up again, but she forced herself to stay calm. She couldn’t start freaking out, not right now! Not with so much at stake.

“So this is the kitchen, but it’s hardly been used. Oh, um, can you guys make food for yourselves?”

Dew nodded, and he moved on.

“Here’s your room. I hope only one bed is alright. Your bathroom is just down the hall. Any questions?”

“Yes Master. Firstly, may we enter the library? Also, where would you like to be fed? I noticed there is no dining room.”

“You can go pretty much anywhere in here. I’m not too big on rules. The only place that’s restricted is my room, I guess. And there was a dining room. It is what is now my library that I showed you. Heh, um, yeah.” Master seemed agitated. Plus, he had dodged her second question. Dew shuffled her feet nervously.

“I don’t know how to tell you, but I’m not hungry right now. Really, I’m not! There was a lot of, uh, stuff at the party. So you can just, like, chill I guess. Hang out. I’m going to be in my room. Call me if you need me.”

And then he was gone, briskly walking away. Just like that. Like he hadn’t left to terrified blood bags in his wake.

Dew took a deep breath, keeping the constant fear away, and lead Drop to the library. She had seen lose paper and pens in there.

They sat on the plush carpet. Drop looked around, but Dew was focused on writing down a note. She’d been caught with a note only once before, but vampires often underestimated how quickly a human could chew and swallow something. They’d be safe to communicate like this.

She handed Drop the note and he read,

This house is small, so he’ll hear us talking. You already know that though. If he comes to check what we’re writing, I’ll eat the paper. Nod to show you read it.

He nodded and she wrote on the back.

We present ourselves first thing tomorrow morning. Be sweet looking. Don’t grimace or snarl. Don’t go into any room other than ours, the bathroom, and the library but only when I tell you.

Drop rolled his eyes and did an eating motion.

We don’t know if we can go in the kitchen.

Drop glared at her. She glared right back. They had known each other long enough, it felt like an entire conversation was going on through their angry looks.

Drop: how are we supposed to eat, then?

Dew: how should I know? Just don’t go there until we’re sure.

Drop: why show us a kitchen if we can’t use it!

Dew: shut up!

Drop: you shut up!

Dew: fine.

Drop: fine.

Dew huffed and started to stand. Drop swatted at her legs playfully and she returned it by hitting his leg with her shoe. They couldn’t be mad at each other for long and both humans started to giggle.

*Creak*

They whipped around. Master had left his room and was coming there way. Dew ate the paper so fast that she honestly surprised herself.

“Hey, sorry, but I just remembered a few things. Sorry to interrupt.”

They almost forgot to bow when he came in. Dew felt the constant terror clawing at her throat, threatening to make her sob.

“You did not interrupt. We are yours, we are here to serve. It is our fault for being distracted. Punish us as you see fit.”

Again, Master seemed tense one moment and fine the next. Dew’s metaphorically knuckles were white with how desperately and tightly she held to her calm exterior, which threatened to slip right out of her grasp.

“It’s really alright. I don’t- you aren’t getting punished. I just wanted to clarify a few things.”

There was a pause, and Dew hesitantly nodded, not knowing what else to do.

“Um, can he talk?” Master asked, gesturing to Drop. “Like, physically talk.”

And just like that, everything came crashing down, including her knees as she fell into a mix of a bow and the fetal position.

“Please, d-don’t punish him! Don’t! He’s done- done nothing wrong. H-he’s good. He d-doesn’t, um, doesn’t talk. H-he could, but please don’t- don’t make him! He’ll be good! We’ll be good. L-let me me t-t-talk f-for him…” She tired to continue, but her sobs got in the way. Instead, she focused on catching her breath and not flinging herself over Drop to shield him.

Even though she couldn’t see him from her curled up position, she heard Drop holding back tears, dry sobs escaping every now and then. She looked up at her owner, the cruel man who may have purposefully owned a small house to keep slaves constantly feeling scared. She expected more of his signature, creative evilness and cunning. She expected hate and anger.

But instead, his eyes shone with tears, like a triplet to their twin despair. A thick strand of purple hair had fallen in Master’s face and he didn’t bother to push it away. He was uncomfortable and tense, just like she had thought she’d seen before. He looked about half as utterly miserable as Dew felt.

“Hey, i-it’s alright. It’s okay. You’re alright. You’re safe. No one is in trouble.” He gave her a moment to collect herself and wipe her tears before crouching down to their level while maintaining a fair distance between them.

“No one is going to be hurt or punished. Neither of you, I swear. I just was wondering if there was an injury that I should know about. But it’s okay if he can’t or won’t talk, even if he could physically. I don’t mind. I swear. You’re good.” And then Master turned to Drop and slowly reached out a hand. The latter flinched away, but Master rested his palm gently on his slave’s knee.

“And you’re okay, Drop. If you ever want to talk again, that’s fine. I don’t mind either way. If you never talk, it’s all good. I swear. You are both good.”

And he stood, took a deep breath, and left. It was always the same. As Dew helped her friend up and they scurried away, she mulled this over. Perhaps their master enjoyed causing panic and confusion and then leaving. It was strange how completely upset he looked, but maybe it was an act. That’d be okay. They had dealt with worse in and outside of the farm. If this Master enjoyed playing with his food, that was fine. At least they had each other.

Drop hopped into bed and held his arms open. It wasn’t every day that they slept cuddled up and consoling each other all night long. But if they ever needed comfort, it was on the first day of a new, strange master. As Dew curled up in Drop’s arms, she thought about everything. They could face this new Master and any other. As long as they had each other, they would be okay in the end.

———

Tag list: @kim-poce @badluck990 @whumpy-writings @imagination1reality0 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @wolfeyedwitch @thecyrulik @nicolepascaline @whumpsday @whumpcreations

[heartshapedbubble]

HI I ZOOMED AS SOON AS I SAW THE WORD QUICKEST I HOPE IM QUICK ENOUGH HWHSHSBAJAKJAH

So I'm a really quiet introvert for most people. Often, the most you can hear from me are a few words and hums. But actually, there's a lot of things I want to talk about. I just don't have the courage to vocalize them. Because whenever I speak, I stutter and fumble over my words. I'm really embarrassed by that and it resulted to me just staying quiet or anxiously repeating the things I want to say in my head before I say them like a script. That's why I prefer texting texting or writing over face to face communication. But that doesn't mean I don't have fun when talking with someone personally. I do get talkative with people I'm close to because I feel comfortable with them even if I make mistakes in speaking–most of the time atleast.

I'm very ambitious but lazy (hehe sorry). But these days I do try to be productive. Like trying out new sports even though I hardly go outside. And I'm trying to build new habits to improve my skills. But whenever I see someone better than me, it's either I feel motivated to do more or give up.

It's very easy to make me laugh as it is to make me cry. I laugh the simplest and smallest things. Even the ones people don't find that hilarious. And yelling at me or even the slightest change of tone on me would send me tearing up.

I am an emotionally sensitive person, yes. But I do hope that doesn't make me look pathetic.

I am on the path to become a doctor but I haven't decided what kind. But I am considering about studying for psychology.

Now as for preferences, I am fond of space and nature! I think both are equally beautiful and fascinating. I like sweets, especially chocolate but I don't like eating a lot. My favorite type of foods are cold foods and salad! I just think it taste good–and usually healthy! I also like journalism and taking videos/photos of a lot of stuff.

That's all! Sorry if this seems weird or maybe vague.

And Happy Valentine's Day!!

DW ANON!! no shame at all we're all cringe and affection starved here

HAPPY VALENTINES NONNIE !!!!! 💞💞💞

i match you with...

joseph desaulnier! 📷

oh my god he finds you SOSOSO cute you literally turn into putty in his hands

like literally gushing over you and pinching your cheeks whenever you cutely stumble on your words or get red in the face

he's going to give you all the time and comfort in the world to get you to talk and ramble about your interests, he wishes you could speak up for yourself more easily so he's going to assist you whenever needed :<

would absolutely pick you up bridal style and twirl around with you... hehe...

would try to motivate you as much as possible during those lazy days when you don't feel like doing anything - and if it doesn't work? mannnn what a shame (proceeds to pick you up and bring you to his room to cuddle instead)(this is all part of his plan)

i feel like your interests would overlap! he loves listening to you and sharing his bits of knowledge and help whenever possible

yo like.. this man would literally spoon feed you if you're up for that... i feel like he'd have the time of his life just spoiling the shit of his partner

often suprises you w/ bouquets (help did i write it right) of your favourite flowers, small bottles of nice perfumes, trinkets and gadgets related to your interests and obviously your favourite food!! do NOT try to talk him out of doing that tho - the prices don't matter to him, he just wants you treat you well when you're feeling burned out, sad, and even in general

takes pictures of you often and has them pinned all over his studio and even has one that he keeps inside of his coat <3

his favourite thing to do is to tuck your hair away behind your ear and do that thumb stroke thing (YOUKNOWWHATIMTALKINGABOUT) whenever he gets his hands on you

skygazing and herbarium-making dates?????? ummm hell fucking yes

he's deeeeefinetly clingy especially considering what happened to claude. he doesn't like to admit it but he gets a bit whiny when you're not around and often spends hours just holding you in his hands and savoring the feeling of safety he gets from you

is your shoulder to cry on whenever you're feeling overwhelmed or sad, this man would jump in front of a train before ever raising your voice @ you you're so precious and beautiful to him :((

[ay-chuu]

Hihi!! I would like to request a matchup/ship for genshin please!! (Idk if ur doing both boys n girls but I like both!) ^o^

For appearance im a very gnc boy with brown skin and also dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. My hair is tinted red from dying it tho TT

I am a pisces and ENTP and I enjoy learning about the traits of both of those types of people even though I don’t like to let if affect my way of life!!

My hobbies are gaming, drawing, and playing with my cat (who is my heart and soul)

I hate hate hate loud noises and other sensitivities like itchy clothing, wind, etc (I’m most likely neurodivergent) . I also hate smelly foods and people who don’t like cats :((

I like idol raising games like enstars, love live, and idolm@ster!! Rhythm games are also a favourite of mine! My favourite genre of music is glitchbreak/breakcore but I’ve been listening to japanese cute metal and vkei bands lately! To be specific dadaroma, babymetal, and mejibray (^_^) My favourite movies are doukyuusei/classmates, promare, and but I’m a cheerleader.

My favourite artist rn is Takeshi Obata who illustrated death note!!

I’d say my life idol is (as childish as it sounds) hello kitty bcuz she strives to be nice to others and understand people even if she can’t just yet! I was a sanrio kid ngl lol

And that’s it!! I hope u have a very nice day

(*^_^*)

Hi love! Hope you're having a really nice day too! ╰(*´︶`*)╯

I match you with... (っ＾▿＾)💨

XIANGLING!

WOW WOW MY FIRST GIRL MATCH ≧ω≦!

ENTP and ESFP are generally the best complementary couple in my opinion. Because ENTP can relieve ESFP's insecurities, and when ENTP is in deep thought, ESFP can offer the sweetest help and time spent together! Pisces man and Scorpio woman, on the other hand, look at life emotionally with love, and therefore they are very compatible with each other. Although usually the mature side is the Scorpio woman, they show leadership according to certain areas.

I think the reason why xiangling started liking you was because she found your personality so cute! She loves your fullness of life,drawings and love for cats! She makes delicious meals for you that are odorless, and you can sit and talk for hours while you eat together! You fell in love with her sweetness, her loyalty to your ideals, and the way she always supports you.

If there is a part that you cannot agree on, I personally think that it is not because of you, but rather in terms of life conditions. For example, sometimes she involuntarily gets very busy or you may have to go to another city and stay there for a long time, which leads to a lack of time and communication in your relationship. I don't think it's causing much of a problem though! You always find a way to come back to each other and make up for the past (:

Finally, some moments I dream of for you two: Preparing meals together, loving stares and sweet giggles while feeding starving stray cats, reading to her while xiangling is lying on your chest, playing with ducks, lighting a fire to warm you in the wind, and talking about the future while hugging together!

[homosexual-fanfiction]

Hi Camp! :D

I just wanted to say thank you so much for posting The Negligible Self, I loved it so much! The ANGST and tension literally had me squeeing out loud, I was hooked. Omigosh I'm such a fan of these dorks. I was like, GET TOGETHER ALREADY DAMMIT.

Also, the way you write is so wonderful! The chapters went by so fast and I ended up staying up waaaay later than I should on a work night (the curse of "oh, one more chapter" attacked me). The entire story felt like so much love and care was put into it and was so so so well thought out.

AND REIGANS INTERNAL MONOLOGUING WAS SO WELL WRITTEN. I find Reigan to be a kinda hard character to write tbh but the way you wrote his thought process out and him refusing to come to terms with his feelings and even consider his emotions are requited with Serizawa is so accurate and so obnoxious to read (in a good way).

ALSO ALMI AAAAAA I REALLY LIKED HER WHHHHY!!! My heart! I adored her character and the complexities you added with her relationship with the guys. Her part of the story was so sad and I really became attached and started wondering how she was doing and if she was okay and aaaaa. I became attached to the sweet older lady character.

Literally some parts made me chuckle out loud too like with Dimple being well, himself.

Also, your notes on the chapters were really fun and made me smile too. I love the voice you use when writing your thoughts. (Literally laughed at Reigan pushing you down the stairs, your dorky laugh noises, stepping over Reigans body, etc.) It really helped lighten the mood. I actually looked forward to your notes alot too! I'll miss those.

The ending is so wonderful and I loved your story so much the the life you breathed into all the characters and their relationships.

I'm looking forward to reading more of your works, sorry I gushed so much and thanks for reading my word vomit ashdgbdhcj! Great job, I loved it so much and thank you again so much for writing and posting it! Please never stop writing! (well, unless you want to obvs but yeah you know what I mean.)

-☆Rosie

BAUUH! hello! thank YOU for reading & going out of your way to come leave me a message :) i'm so glad you enjoyed it, it was a blast to write!! i'm already missing it haha [facing very deliberately away from the epilogue wip]

i hope you got enough sleep in the end lol, and yeah i tried very hard to make reigen rationalize everything he was doing in his own infuriatingly reigen way. i've said this before so apologies if you've already heard it, but it's funny how such a huge plot point was reigen REFUSING to come clean about shit when i generally hate to read a fic that relies on miscommunication or just a lack of communication.

but like reigen is obnoxious and he really wouldn't believe serizawa liked him back even if it slapped him in the face (or held him and cared about him and put a flower behind his ear and tucked him into bed and brought him food and came back to his apartment again and again and again to make sure he was okay (reigen voice if they found out who i really was they'd reject me in an instant)) so i tried my best to play off of that in the most reigen way i could lol. very glad that didn't seem to annoy people out of reading

god aimi AHH aimi... i'm so glad you like her! my poor little lesbian lady, she was only doing what she could. wanted to have her cake and eat it too, but unfortunately... yeah

and aw i'm glad you liked my goofing in the notes too, most of that really was just the first thing that came to my mind lol. the stepping over reigens body one was planned a few days in advance tho, i could not pass up that opportunity. and dimple was so fun to write he does NOT miss a chance to take a shot and we love that about him. dimple our favorite little hater

thank you so much again, it really was a ride to get that all done start to finish and i'm very happy that people out there enjoyed/are enjoying the story :) and you don't need to apologize at all haha. i'll write for as long as i have the inspiration to <3

[darlingpwease]

I really didn't mean for it to be longer, that's my bad (╥﹏╥)

..then isn't that some 'you' time??? How I spend some me time is I read, play games, write, or just chill in my bed. What's ur 'me' time if it's considered work then?? 🤨 /neu wait really???

(The good thing is we have peer reviews later. The problem is that this dude is the teachers favorite so idk how that'll go. Me and like 2 other members are gonna try and send an email to our professor and hope that she'll take pity on us lol. I think that due to how blatantly obvious the favoritism is,, they agreed because of it?? Idfk. I think we just all suck at communication in this group.... thank u for ur works tho Dove <333 ur too sweet, I think I feel my cavities acting up again /t /j /pos /affectionate imgonnagocrashnow)

Blegh- it's already slowly in motion... /hj

NOOOO IM SORRY!! I remember quite a bit of things, even some things from when we first started talking,, but I truly don't remember this one I'm sorry!! ( ´༎ຶ□༎ຶ`) ...just... just let me die from afar and leave me there after <//333

Of course those are lovely too. I just have a preference to certain animals and certain tones. All colors are cool tho when they're all a good mix,, those are always really cool to see in artworks <33 oh please, as if I had anyone else. Even if I was tho I wouldn't even put it in an ask lmao /t /hj

WH- I'm so glad I don't meet you face to face, because I know damn well that it'd be a struggle if I were to hear u say that <//333 /pos? /neu?? /idk??? /not good, not bad, but it's not neutral /it's like a weird thingy /not negatively tho /idk how to explain it??? /going into hiding tho <33 ah?

-panna cotta

oh nooo sweet panna cotta wrote me more what a horror suddenly I have to answer more to their words??? noooo I don't like to read what he writes and think how cute he is noooo ://// shush silly :////// I want to bite you sometimes, not just because you're cute, but also so that you stop being so anxious ://///////

of course not. if my brain is working, how can this be resting time?🤨 or what, do you want to say that you are resting while analyzing what happened during the day or your emotions during "you" time??? during "my" time, my brain generates cute things and ideas while I cuddle with my toy, imitating a dream; the rest of the time I work🤨🤨 absolutely. it was also in yesterday's post, where are the ideas (if you haven't forgotten it yet /t /hj); you've just suddenly become a bit too,,,, smooth. it's disturbing, but rather in a good sense i think.

(mmm, that's what they call a "justified advantage," right? hehehe; I don't think others will appreciate it, but then it will surely be very smooth for you — as long as you have at least some foundation, then everything will pass. just try to hold on well and confidently with your pretty quiet nature, don't throw yourself into a tremor and don't make that bunny face, and everything will be great♡ oh, that's bad!!! what if it's caries? you have to take care of your teeth, especially when it's baby teeth!!! try not to be such a sweet thing and eat healthy food<333 /t /hj)

mhm mhm... 🫤 for some reason, I can't believe that a person who confirmed that he plans to stay up at night suddenly says that he has started taking care of himself. do you know why?🫤🫤🫤 /t /hj

... ha. not until you give your consent<3 also, I promised that I would take care of my cute worm<33 so... no❤︎

you're so peaceably flexible with this "yes, but", "of course it is", "I don't argue, but", that I don't even know if I want to tease you or just put you in a box, because I'm sure some law prohibits being so timidly relaxed,,,, I mean, you've said before that you're like that, but I really didn't expect you to be even more like that than it was even said</3333 /ht /hj /neu<3 oh, so there was another belly, right??? I get it, I get it. no more mwahes for you — I'm not kissing cocottas who already have someone!!! 3:<<< puf puf puf 3:<<<<< /t /hj

don't worry, honey, if we were face to face, I wouldn't say that to you — I would bite your lovely cheek right away<33333 hehehe~ AHAHAHHA noooooo cute cutie</33333 maybe you mean "shyly"? "uncomfortable"? "don't do what again"? /ht I mean, where else can you be besides my pocket and my box? very suspicious, I think I'm going to erase the inscription with a pencil, you're reacting very strangely🤨🫤 /t /hj

[retroaria]

can you do headcanon number 10 with karl <3 love your writing btw!

Karl Jacobs: Fluff Alphabet ✿

cc!karl jacobs x reader

pronouns: gender neutral

warnings: just swearing

here’s my 500 Follower Event ^o^

a/n: even if they aren’t requested in the event i’ll still be making fluff hc’s for all the cc’s i write so stay tuned !!

A is for Affection (How do they like to show affection?)

other than physical touch (saving that for love language) karl’s favorite way to show affection is making you a huge part of his life. all of his friends and loved ones know just how important you are to him even without him saying anything. especially with blowing up and all the busy stuff he does as a creator, he wants you to be there with him every step of the way, never leaving you in the dark about anything. he’s always asking you for advice or ur opinion on certain projects, and if ur willing to help too that just makes him so happy. because at the end of the day, he wouldn’t be able to do it without you :)

B is for Bond (What kind of bond do you guys have? What could your relationship be labeled as?)

you guys are definitely the wholesome couple. there’s so much love and communication between you two that doesn’t go unnoticed by the people around you. on top of that, you guys share an adoration for each other that is just so freaking cute man

C is for Comfort (How do they comfort their s/o?)

in the beginning of your relationship, karl would kinda just try to cheer you up or make you laugh, but as things get more serious he’s very avid on getting you to talk about your issues so he can find the best way to be there for you.

D is for Dates (What are dates with them like?)

dates with karl are so fun !! he definitely likes just doing random stuff like shopping, going on long drives, or trying new places to eat and calling them dates. at the same time you guys also do bigger things like fancy restaurants (hes so rich oh dear god), amusement parks, long day trips, stuff like that.

E is for Emotions (How do they express their emotions around you?)

karl doesn’t strike me as a ‘heart on his sleeve’ kinda guy but around you, he’s definitely not closed off at all. aside from just talking to you and verbally being open, he also isn’t afraid to let you see him get upset or even cry about something. i see him as the type to value transparency in a relationship.

F is for Fiancé (How long into the relationship before they propose?)

karl definitely loves you, no doubt about it. but i feel like you guys really do enjoy just being together in the moment and not worrying about that stuff until much later down the line. you could be dating for a really long time and there’s still gonna be so much you can learn about each other. i’ll give karl an official number of 5 years. but maybe even longer. it’s a big decision guys remember!! especially because he does want you in his life forever, he wants to make sure the bond is truly like no other.

G is for Gentle (Are they gentle?)

depends. you guys have lots of playful banter and bullying but at the end of day he can be a big softy when it comes to you. so yes id say he’s pretty gentle 👍

H is for Hand Holding (How do they like hand holding?)

loves it. obviously. it’s karl jacobs. have you seen the guy?

I is for I Love You (Who said “I love you” first?)

him. it was really early on into the relationship and he kinda regretted saying it so quickly. there was just so much emotion going on for him at the time and he just blurted it out. after a little while longer tho, he gave a proper confession of his love.

J is Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

everyone always says no for karl but YES. he does get jealous. not like angry jealous more like weirded out and uncomfy jealous. you can usually tell when he’s feeling that way.

K is for Kiss (What’s kissing them like?)

writing about kissing kinda makes me cringe but i had to think of something for k. it happens a lot probably. very sweet and loving. not just on the lips but karl will give you random kisses anywhere whenever he feels like it.

L is for Love Language (What’s their love language?)

PHYSICAL TOUCH AHHHH. constant hand holding, hugs, and cuddles. he loves being close to people he loves and it’s very obvious (i’m a karlnap shipper and analyzer sorry just had to confess)

M is for Memories (Their favourite memory with their s/o?)

karl’s favorite memories with you are usually on his days off when he just gets to spend an entire day being with you and only you. on top of that he also is very fond of the first time he ever met you and was like “ooo ahh wow you should like spend the rest of ur life with me or whatever Idk just something to think about ” lol.

N is for Nicknames (Their favourite nicknames given and received?)

nothing too soppy because i think karl would find it cringe but “babe” and “cutie” are the most frequent.

O is for Open (At what point do they start opening up to you about their life and feelings?)

after the first argument you guys have methinks. i feel like being caught in the honeymoon phase would kinda put the opening up process on hold, but once there’s a need for it it becomes a frequent thing.

P is for PDA (Are they into PDA?)

uhh not really. i know i said differently in my karl dating hc’s but i think he would find it a little cringe. hand holding is a definite because that’s simple ya know and hugging and small kisses and stuff but nothing more. he’s touchy as we all know but that’s just for you guys lol

Q is for Quiz (How much do they remember about you?)

karl loves loves LOVES knowing things about you. finding out stuff you guys have in common makes him so happy even just similarities in the ways you were raised and your childhoods and such. he’s a good listener and is always attentive. even if he wasn’t good at remembering stuff he would make the conscious effort to do so. 

R is for Romantic (How romantic are they?)

he’s such a little goofball gremlin that the thought of him seriously being romantic just doesn’t feel right but. he is. he loves doing stuff for you and just telling you how much he loves you and getting emotional about it. taking you out and making you feel like the luckiest person alive :)

S is for Security (How protective/possessive are they?)

he honestly doesn’t strike me as the protective type. possessive i would say maybe a little bit. he’s just so happy to have you and so like proud of himself for getting an epic s/o lol. he would never intrude on a friendship of yours or anything but if he was uncomfortable in anyway he would let you know before acting out.

T is for Try (How much effort do they put into the relationship?)

he puts everything he can into it. with him being so busy all the time things might get rocky but he makes such an effort to spend as much time with you as he can. being there for you is something that’s really important for him as well. any disagreements you guys have is resolved asap because he definitely doesn’t like leaving things on a bad note.

U is for Uphold (How do they show you they’re proud? What kind of support do they give you?)

he talks about you lots. anything that you make him or buy him is showed off on stream and any accomplishments you’ve made he would publicly congratulate you on. just showing to the world how great he thinks you are and how proud of you he is makes you feel so supported and he always wants you to feel that way.

V is for Vaunt (Do they like to show off?)

yes obviously ur the coolest most epic person and HE gets to be with you??? biggest flex ever if you ask me.

W is for Wild Card (A random fluff headcanon.)

karl likes doing stuff at the same time as you?? i hope that makes sense. like washing the dishes together or working on stuff. he also likes watching anime or movies/tv shows at the same time as you too. if a new episode of something just came out and he has the time to watch it but you don’t, he’ll wait for you so you can do it together. couple goals lol.

X is for X-ray (How well can they read you and your emotions/feelings?)

karl cares a lot about how the people around him are feeling and i think he’s pretty good at recognizing that. he’s extremely attentive to you and always makes sure ur comfortable.

Y is for Yearning (How much do they miss their s/o when they’re gone?)

between mr beast and all the work that he does it usually hits him when he finally gets home to relax and ur not there :( he does get really upset and a little needy about it but he tries his best to just focus on the stuff he needs to get done so he doesn’t miss you too much.

Z is for Zebra (What kind of pet would they want with their s/o?)

a brown cat named Cornelius 😎

@themanifoldenjoyer @fantasy-innit @k-l-a-w-s @joyfullymulti

[glowingbadger]

The Sylvain and Dimitri arranged marriage stuff made me think of a claude version of it. Maybe an AU where Claude never came to fodlan and reader has to marry the prince/king of Almyra to improve countries relationships. Anyway seriously love your stuff thank you so much for the content!!

Oh hoo Anon, this is a wonderful take on the concept. Let's see what I can whip up for us~

((side note I feel like we never learn whether Almyra speaks a different language from Fodlan?? But being multi-lingual is sexy so idgaf))

((And also I used Bengali for Almyran because I have Bengali family and the language is so beautiful even though the english alphabet phonetic spellings are weird af))

Claude x Reader - Arranged Marriage

NSFW 18+ (like only towards the end tho idk)

Overall, you do what you can to stay out of the way. You'd been sent to Almyra as a symbol- a token, more than anything else. Now that you were in King Khalid's possession, very few throughout the castle paid you any particular mind. You were provided for, of course. Anything you cared to ask for was given. But you didn't speak a word of the Almyran language, and those who bothered to use what they knew of Fodlan's to communicate with you seemed to view you as a pet to be kept safe and healthy, and little else.

By week's end, there was to be a lavish banquet in honor of your union with the King- though of course, your input on the proceedings is entirely unwanted. In some ways, Almyra is quite similar to Fodlan. Court life is much the same. As you wander through the royal gardens, wondering at a range of colorful and exotic flowers you'd never heard of, let alone seen, a voice speaks smoothly behind you.

"Did you know you can actually eat the petals of this particular flower? They're very sweet."

You whirl around and nearly bump into King Khalid. You're about to stammer out an apology, but he reaches out and plucks a single white petal and holds it before your lips.

"Go on, I think you'll like it."

Whatever possesses you to eat a flower petal from this man's hand is something you'd rather leave unexamined for the time being- but he is right about the flavor. It's sweet, but not overly so, and quite pleasant.

"Hm! Yeah, it's nice," you say, then glance up at him as another thought occurs to you that you'd considered once or twice before, "You speak the language of Fodlan very well, my Lord."

"I'm flattered," he says with a disarmingly handsome smile, "and please, just Khalid. I don't think I could bear to have my own wife stand on such formality with me."

He says it so naturally, as if you'd been planning this union for years. Though, once again, he's right. This is only perhaps the dozenth time you've exchanged words, but you are wed, and you ought to get used to addressing him as your husband.

"Khalid..." you say tentatively, "Did- did you need something from me? I hope I wasn't too much trouble to find."

"Not when you find such pleasant places to hide," he replies, still wearing that easy smile, "but to be honest, I was actually hoping you'd accompany me for the day. I can finally afford to take a bit of time away from the castle, and I think you and I both would appreciate some space to breathe. What do you say?"

Correct once again. You nod, and take the arm he offers you. As he leads you out from the gardens, he points out a few more plants native to your new homeland. They're incredibly varied, each more strange and vibrant than the last. All the while, he's somehow made you feel as though you're chatting with an old friend. You leave the gardens and wander towards the area you vaguely recall to be designated for horse stables and wyvern stalls.

From there, a few things happen in sequence. Khalid asks if you're afraid of flying. He asks if you trust him to hold on to you. He helps you up onto the saddle that seems impossibly high up on its own right, and then, you're propelled into the air with a force your body has never felt before. You tense and shrink back against his chest, clinging to whatever part of the saddle you can find purchase on for dear life. Up here, it's difficult to pick up, but you feel your husband laugh behind you, then his strong arm wrap around your waist.

"Relax, I won't let anything happen to you," he says against your ear, his voice sure and steady, "I've got you."

And it takes a few miles of flying and a lot of Khalid distracting you by pointing out different buildings and shops along the streets below, but eventually, you do manage to relax- at least a little.

The castle town is positively buzzing with activity. Even from your distance in the sky above, you can see clusters of people moving around each other like fish up stream, and even hear the faint echoes of a merchant advertising goods.

"It doesn't seem at all like the Almyra we're taught about in Fodlan."

"Oh, it is," Khalid assures you with a bemused chuckle, "But it's also much more. I imagine it's the same for your people. There's a lot we can learn from one another, I think."

By the time the sun is high in the sky, you've passed the most densely settled part of town and are gliding over farmland and the occasional pocket of forest and rivers that split and cross through the earth like veins. Though, the warmer climate of Almyra will still take some getting used to, and it seems your husband considers this.

"Let's land for a bit and find some shade,"

You nod, and he directs his wyvern to begin a slow descent.

The King had thought of everything for this little day-trip, it seemed. Having evidently packed everything you'd need in the saddlebags on his steed, you now recline beside him on a plush blanket in a clearing amidst the trees. A small brook bubbles down from stone to stone in small waterfalls beside you, and the air feels positively alive with birdsong and rustling leaves, all foreign to you and all part of your new home. And so is he, you think as you glance over at the handsome figure of your husband beside you.

You'd been sitting in a comfortable quiet, munching on a couple of very dense pastries which Khalid had told you incorporated an extract of the flower you'd sampled earlier. He gives a satisfied sigh as he finishes his first and lies back on the blanket, taking in and savoring a deep breath. As you finish the last bites of your own treat, you reflect on the day thus far. You'd learned much about the locals and their daily lives by observation and Khalid's description in such a short time, and he'd even taught you a hand full of basic words and phrases in Almyran.

"Uhm, Khalid?"

He opens one eye and gives you a sideways glance.

"It was... dhonnobad, right? Thank you?"

His smile his open and warm, his eyes practically shimmering in the reflected sunlight from the nearby brook.

"Well, we'll have to work on your pronunciation, but I'm impressed you remembered," he beckons you down onto the blanket beside him, and you follow, lying on your side as he turns towards you. You're closer than you'd anticipated, even given the limited realestate of the blanket, and you internally scold yourself for being shy about something so silly- like some naive adolescent.

"Let's try a couple more words, since you've been such a diligent student."

"Okay," you say with a smile, "try me, I'll do my best."

"Hmm..." he looks around your private clearing, then gestures towards the brook and says, "Jala"

"Jala," you repeat slowly. He nods,

"Right- that's 'water'. And, uhm..." he points toward a patch of wildflowers at the edge of the brook, "Phula. That's 'flower'."

Again, you repeat as best you can, and though you know your pronunciation must be off, he's encouraging nonetheless. Then, he leans in towards you, and brings his free hand to your cheek, his fingertips brushing your skin lightly.

"Now try sundara."

"... Sundara?" you make an attempt, and you're sure you got something about that 's' sound mixed up, but Khalid just gives you a slanted smile. He doesn't clarify at first, so you ask, "What does that one mean?"

His fingers slowly weave back into your hair, and his voice is low and soothing as he replies,

"That means 'beautiful'."

Your face warms immediately, but you hardly have a moment to feel bashful about it before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you slow and deep. His movements are effortlessly sensual, pulling you towards him and sending your pulse pounding through your veins. You part your lips to him almost instinctively, and the way he uses his tongue is sparing, but oh-so effective. When he finally pulls away, your head is spinning and it's all you can do to meet his gaze.

"So... that's how they kiss in Almyra." you say, barely above a whisper. Khalid smirks and turns you onto your back, sliding an arm around your waist.

"Oh, no- there's no tradition in this, only skill."

Goddess- if they'd warned you of the King's supernatural charms, you wouldn't have believed them. But now his lips are on yours once again, and he's holding your body to his, and you can't think of anything else. Your arms drape across his shoulders, and faster than you can track, your bodies have met in a tangled, impassioned embrace. It was hard to imagine that mere kissing could feel so erotic, but something about his pace, about how his lips and hands move in tandem, about how thorough he is in exploring you, makes you feel like it would be only natural to give yourself over to him completely.

His kiss travels along your jawline up to the shell of your ear, where he nips briefly, then murmurs,

"I was hoping to apologize for how little time we've had to get to know each other before today," you bite at your bottom lip as his hand slides down to the curve of your hip, "if that would be pleasing to you, my dearest wife."

"Ye- yes..." you sigh into the open air as his lips reach your neck. The single word is all either of you need. He never stops pressing lavish kisses to your lips and neck as he pulls your clothing out of his way. By the time he's satisfied, your clothes are draped off your arms and pooling around you on the blanket- and he doesn't seem to care to remove them entirely. He has a goal in mind.

Slowly, painstakingly, he makes his way down your body. You feel him everywhere- hands tracing and memorizing your frame, breath hot across your skin as his lips spoil you with adoring kisses. Soon enough, he's kissed his way to your lower stomach, and he urges your thighs apart beneath him. You suppress the instinctive wave of embarrassment at being exposed to him for the first time- he is your husband and your King, afterall- but then, his head dips down towards your plump lower lips, and your mind goes white.

"Khalid-!" you gasp out as his tongue trails coyly up the crease of your folds. He hums contentedly, and places a disarmingly chaste kiss to the soft skin. Then, his thumbs gently spread you open for him, and your entire body burns while he takes a moment to merely admire you- your pretty little hole already wet, your clit already hard and flushed dark. When his head lowers once more, his green eyes meet yours steadily, as though to promise without words to be good to you.

And in a moment, his mouth begins to gently tease your clit, and your head tilts back on the blanket. Your hips jerk just a bit with each pass of his tongue across the sensitive bundle, and occasionally you can't hold in a gasp or whimper of pleasure. This only encourages him, of course. The more you moan and sigh, the more dedicated he becomes to your body. He presses himself more firmly to you, his lips surrounding your clit and the surrounding tender flesh, and he suckles on you, licks you, kisses you. You don't know when it happened, but your hands are at the back of his head, fists tangled in thick brown hair as he diligently works.

The unbearable tension is winding tight and anxious in your lower body- you know he'll drive you to climax before long, and the mere thought feels like falling in love. And then Khalid moves lower, and his tongue dips inside of your entrance. You gasp and unwittingly tug on his hair- but he certainly doesn't seem to mind. With a lustful groan, he presses more firmly to you, truly buried against your body as his dexterous tongue curls upward, stroking the vulnerable spot behind the nerves of your clit.

"Khalid!" this time it's nearly a scream, and you're grateful that your voice is lost in the surrounding foliage. Your thighs begin to shake, and your hands release him to instead clutch the blanket behind you. And at last, with a whimper in a voice you hardly recognize, your lower body floods with soaked warmth as your orgasm sweeps through you. Panting, twitching, you moan out for your husband over and over, until finally, the wave begins to subside, and Khalid pulls away to position himself above you on all fours.

"That's a nice expression..." he says with a grin, directing you to look at him with a hand at your chin, "I hope I'll get to see it often."

When your eyes finally refocus, you look up at him somewhat apologetically,

"I should... attend to you."

He laughs and kisses your forehead,

"There will be time for that tonight, don't you think? Once we're a bit more... put together," he says with a glance at your bare form, "we should head back to our ride. I'll bring you back to the castle, and we'll get the cooks to prepare something very 'Almyran' for you."

You nod- it probably wouldn't do for the first time with your Lord Husband to be mid-day in the woods. Though he'd certainly failed to make it seem unappealing.

"And then," he goes on, bringing a finger to trace the curve of your bottom lip, "Well, maybe we'll excuse ourselves to our bedchamber a bit early this evening, and we can continue this little... cultural exchange."

[yostresswritinggirl]

Alatus' Weakness

Even the strongest, mightiest men carry with them their ultimate weakness. And when it is under the wrong hands, their power won't be enough to prevent them from crumbling... What is it? What was it that the Evil God took hold of that forced him to serve his evil deeds for years?

Pairings -> Alatus x Reader (Xiao)

Word Count -> 1350

Themes -> You won't find happiness here.

Series -> #SojournerSpecials (600 Followers Event)

Warnings -> This is punishment for Xiao forcing me to whale for him. As well as the Oceanid anons. (EDIT: THIS HAS MADE PEOPLE CRY, PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

The Yaksha of the wind dances in fluid whirlwinds as the breeze makes its rounds over the plains, his lightness barely wrinkles the green grass underneath his uncovered feet as the robes he dons flutters behind him.

It was so beautiful, he looked so ethereal.

And when his spear finally settles in a sharp swing, the force manifests into harmless gusts that sweeps the pasture for a second before straightening up again. Alatus had always been an agile dancer. And everyone in the village knows of this.

He offers a slight bow and a smile upon your loud clapping, so giddy of the exclusive performance that you were lucky to witness. It was a treasure that every local wishes to see beyond the battles he fights. Men and women alike yet out of them all it was you who was graced with this blessing.

"Beautiful as always, Alatus!" Your wide smile was infectious and his grin grows the closer he comes to you, arms finding its way around your waist and across your back in a soft hug. The giddiness continues as you turned into a giggly mess from his special affection, reciprocating with a tackle of a hug.

"Did you miss me that much?" He was answered by wordless nuzzles to his chest, making him chuckle and pull you closer.

Alatus was a great and powerful spear dancer, and he had been protecting the village you two reside in ever since. Gods and beings trekked the world commonly and it was too dangerous even for stationary communities. More so for those who lack the Vision to fight in the first place.

He was one, if not the only one capable enough to protect everyone. And many times he would go beyond the parameter to exterminate threats before they became an issue. Most of the time he disappears for a while during this expedition and then return triumphant as the village people greet him and praise him for his hardwork.

But at the end of the day, he settles down in your quiet home where he engulfs you protectively in his arms. There you two would exchange your tales during the span of his expedition, and he would indulge you in a showcase of his dances as compensation for his absence. The highlight of your day.

"There seems to be higher activity in the surrounding territories regarding monsters and Gods," he introduces the topic as he picks up the nian gao with wooden chopsticks, munching the soft treat as you poured a cup of tea to match the snack. "The other villages are asking me to patrol their parameters for a few days to at least clear some of them."

"There's been disturbances around here too," you worriedly chewed at your own snack as you two sat by the veranda of your home, watching the whole of the village from your spot over the cliff. This must be one of the reasons he liked staying here too, an easy access and overseer to the whole area for his duties.

Alatus hums in agreement but continues eating. The way he chews his meal was a telltale sign that there's a worry gnawing at the back of his head. And you had the same worry, except much lighter than his.

The growing tension between the Gods of Teyvat spurs on more turmoil at the news of Celestia's sudden challenge over the archons. And with such offers and desperation, powerless humans and villages had been wiped recently courtesy of the war.

It was a matter that didn't really bother him nor the village, but somehow it came back to him tenfold in multitudes of worry. He has a gut feeling. But Alatus cannot make himself turn away from the pleas of the people that call his name for saving grace.

"Come home soon," your smile snapped him back to reality upon knowing that he wouldn't just leave the other villages behind.

Yet when he left, there was still a gnawing anxiety at the bottom of his stomach.

Alatus for once... had lost his grace for in his hand his spear shakes in unspeakable fear. In front of him beyond the cliff's edge is the blazing ruins of a village he protected for years, day and night diligently. Monsters and men ravaged what's left and he tries to push away the guilt of ignoring them when he rushed immediately to his home.

To where his home should be.

"Alatus," the towering figure turned around to face him and his pupils dilated at the image, muscles flexing to dash when its hand raises in a motion to stop him, tutting mockingly at the warning. "Ah, ah, you wouldn't want them to die like this, would you?"

The being of pure evil had your unconscious form in its arms, a fight evident on your bruised and cut form as blood trickles from your forehead to the earth beneath. And on your head, the source of the wound, is a crown of thorns. He fights the urge to cry and vomit at the state you were in, at the state he could have prevented if he'd just STAYED.

"Please," his broken voice ghosted a smile on the God's face, "Please leave them alone."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Alatus' heart sinks at the refusal with his gaze unfocusing at the difference in power. "After all, they're the one I wanted in the first place, everyone else is just collateral damage."

From that point forward, to preserve the little life force you have, Alatus was under the grasp of the evil god. Under his command he razes the villages he once protected, eating the dreams of the humans that only wish to live in peace. His hands of grace grips his spear with the stains of blood as he kneels in front of the evil God, its name he didn't bother to remember anymore at this point.

It smirks at him while over its hand floats a cube only a few inches bigger. Your cell, where you're cooped up with only a glow of deep blue indicating your existence within it. When he misbehaves he hears cries of agony from it, when he does very satisfactory he even gets to hold it but only that.

The years of painful service had wiped off his smile and most of his memories. Alatus had already forgotten your voice and your face at this point, only the humans and beings he had killed comes to his memories.

Soon after, he has only known the cube to hold something dear to him, a weakness that is a precious one he could not risk. When he tries to remember, he's reminded of a vague visage and a sweet taste on his tongue. If he could cry now he would. It was one of the only good things in his mind now even tho its details continue to ebb away with his horrific deeds.

And finally, like a light that shines through the canopy of the overhead trees, a being mighty enough to contend his evil master comes down to end his suffering.

Rex Lapis, the Geo Archon, the one the evil god desperately tries to overthrow died in his hands.

It is done, all of it. No more innocent blood should stain his hands. "The cube this god possessed is a cell." What should he do now? There was no other place to come back to, maybe the You that resides in the cube had any ideas, to start over. That sounds like a good idea.

"Alatus, was it?" His head slowly picks up from the blank stare it had on the ground.

"Yes, Rex Lapis?"

"Do you know of the one who resides within this cube?" There was a hesitance in Rex Lapis' voice that passed through him.

"They are someone that I know."

"It seems... that human... has perished 200 years ago in this cell."

Alatus, like that last day in a ruined village, had lost his grace when he collapses to the ground. His weakness and his hope both gone.

Seems to me my writing has been short lately

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @kookieyachi @struggljng @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom 14-20 thoughts!! I finished up s1 :D these last few eps were actually really really good!!!

-did. did tucker really just say esperanto was a dead language only spoken as a secret code between geeks. google says around 100,000 people actively speak it. oh my god...it being an auxiliary language doesn't mean its 'just for geeks to speak in code' ...it helps bridge gaps between people who don't have a language in common...

-danny really isn't pulling punches when it comes to fighting the ghost-cop possessed people huh. like he SLAMMED KWAN INTO THE CONCRETE SO HARD. HE THREW PAULINA INTO A BILLBOARD. will that...I mean it WOULD carry over to their bodies non-possessed, right? like if the ghost piloting their bodies gets hurt?? itd be so upsetting to be possessed, lose time, then wake up covered in bruises (and possibly, broken bones??) real horror movie stuff im sure wont be addressed in any way

-tuckers parents seem nice! I like them :)

-WULF IS CUTE AND I FEEL BAD. im so glad the gang realized he was only causing trouble bc of the shock collar walker put on him and helped. also, him wearing that big hoodie with the hood on, and thinking its subtle. we can tell youre still a giant wolfie :) THEN GETTING SUCKED INTO THE PORTAL AAAAH :( anxiously waiting to see Him Again....

-DANNY BLASTING HIS PARENTS THINKING THEY WERE OVERSHADOWED LMFAO GET THEIR ASSES. maddie marking how many ghosts she gets with lipstick tallies on the side of her portal gun? kindaaa iconic tho. (ALSO, SHE WAS LIKE, 2 FT AWAY FROM HIM RIGHT AFTER SHE TRIED TO SHOOT HIM. HOW DO YOU NOT RECONINZE YOUR OWN SON??? like sure, he might have diff hair/eye colors. but like, if one of my family members dyed their hair, and was wearing contacts, its not like id be like 'wHO IS THIS STRANGER!!!' ...he still has all his facial features!! same everything!!! I hate it here)

-paulina being #1 girl realizing danny's a friendly ghost immediately. smart queen. lancer and kwan ran away right after he made this sweet baby face at them:

which is hilarious.

-ok. im not saying his bullying is JUSTIFIED, but. dash looked so pleased with the (cute!) poster he just painted, and danny comes thru the wall and spills paint on his nice letterman jacket. his anger is justified maybe 65% of the time so far...(not the way he handles it, but STILL.) at least lancer is stepping in!! and them making a silly little bet was...cute?? until dash pulled out his GROSS UNDERWEAR AND SAID DANNY WOULD HAVE TO EAT THEM???? WHAT THE FUCK MAN. TUCKER WAS SO RIGHT ITS FUCKING WEIRD TO CARRY THOSE AROUND EWWW. THIS KID IS UNWELL. lancer was right, his animatronic setup was SUPER IMPRESSIVE?? hes actually pretty creative. danny meanwhile is stealing the fright knight's design...I hope dash is taking art classes or smth with his sports

-fright knight is the most bestest ghost so far i LOVE THAT DESIGN. I am biased towards knights, and characters with swords, but he fucks so severely. and should sue danny for copyright infringement for stealing his design for his haunted house. if some 14 yr old broke into MY house and stole MY sword, id also be pissed. his evil winged unicorn rules too with its FANGS. and he just CAN SHOVE THE PORTAL OPEN WITH HIS HANDS??? is he the strongest ghost weve seen so far? idk but hes my fav. SOUL SHREDDER IS SUCH A COOL SWORD NAME TOO. ANY NAMED SWORD ALSO FUCKS. 'flaming bedsheets of DEATH' funny king. ALSO he was polite to dash and tucker when just asking for directions and telling tucker 'oh maybe, just a suggestion, maybe be nicer to me and be more respectful :)' I LOOOVE HIM.

-I noticed this in the Ember ep, but jazz has an electric guitar in her room!! talent musical queen!! its cool to see hobbies just in the bg.

-fright knight's murder castle reminds me of the booby trapped murder castle in zexal!! another supposedly 'for kids' show with murder/trap castles! we love that. if you are a dp fan reading this, give yugioh zexal a try. its also got 13-14 year old protags and involves (alien) ghosts. the cardgame is just a vessel for the plot, which is really good. (I just want more people to watch my fav yugioh, man)

-danny. with a SWORD.

-danny doesnt NEED TO WIN this contest, dash didnt STEAL HIS DESIGNS AND STEAL A SWORD. he also got excited to hear lancer got sent to a dimension with his worst fears too just so he could win the contest? DANNY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!! BRO MAYBE YOURE 14 AND HAVENT FULLY DEVOLPED YOUR WHOLE BRAIN YET, BUT...THATS FUCKED. this kid casually says the most deranged things, I do worry for my spooky son. once again, therapy needed. that judo toss was great tho. I wonder if he actually did pick up some martial arts stuff from his mom?

-danny can fly 112 mph!!! thats so fast! I love the lil montage of him and his friends testing his abilities and stuff, very cute and a good way to showcase what he can do by now and how much more proficient he's gotten from ep 1!!! I'm sure he's going to get more abilities :)

-im glad...maddie's at least TRYING this ep. I do feel for her because her husband is a man baby. but the fact it took 16 episodes to get a kinda semblance of any kind of real concern or attempts at bonding. hmm. jack's 'BACK OFF SHES A MINOR' @ the ghost trying to attack jazz. also was very funny. and him wanting to make an action figure of her? are the parents redeeming themselves to me? slightly. they gotta Work Harder

-THE GHOST. IS FLYING. THE PLANE.

-fenton machete. but she doesnt carry a PHONE??? ???

-I mean I expected vlad when you namedrop him earlier in the ep, and also the title card picture, and dalv corp being fucking vlad backwards. but seeing him just pull up on a golf cart made me bust out laughing. WITH the gift baskets prepared. why wouldnt you at least be suspicious. also, if he wants danny to be his lil sonboy, why is he so fucking malicious?? dude you are going about this in such a bad way. stop it. get some help.

-maddie not even hesitating to drag danny out. fucking good. danny is so right, go on the internet to date. get a cat. how do you spend...how many years?? has it been since college?? at least 20, right, since the parents/vlad are in their 40s? hung up on ONE girl. my god, man. incel drama queen. her kung fu IS impressive, but dude. 'we both know hes a creep' SO right. it sucks but they do need a phone and shit being in the middle of NOWHERE. also, just stealing his helicopter was great. <3

-'you must be exhausted carrying the weight of that mistake you made years ago' 'well we all make mistakes. maybe I'll make one now!' WHY DID THIS EXHCHANGE SEND ME. AND VLAD WITH THE BREATH SPRAY EWWW BITCH. 'OLD BAIT BREATH' SOO RIGHT. both danny and his mom playing him HAHAH hes so dumb. or rather, I think he thinks with his emotions too too much and is...actually pretty gullible? lmao he believed danny was ready to give in SO fast. (which is sad hes that hopeful, like you have SO MUCH MONEY YOU COULD EASILY GET ANOTHER GIRL WHO HAS A KID. AND WOULD WANT TO BE WITH YOU AND BE SUPPORTED. GET OVER THIS (1) WOMAN ALREADY IM GETTING SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT AAAAH)

-GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR. it was also in the title card, but I still got very excited. we love bears here

-SAM'S BAT SWIMSUIT COVERUP!!! her outfits are simply iconic.

-'i'd tell you to go to the mens room, but I don't think you qualify' top paulina transphobic moments. :( and him wearing a tanktop to the swim park? hmmm! (actually I think she was overshadowed by then, so, KITTY top 10 transphobic moments??)

-kitty just piloting paulina around makes me feel SO bad tho, paulina's gonna wake up and be like 'wtf do you mean I was dating this rando' like youre leading danny on to make johnny jealous, and also just POSSESSING POOR PAULINA. dude take your relationship problems ELSEWHERE. last time we saw them, they seemed like such a cute couple!! wtf johnny!! I mean, she sucks for trying to make him jealous, he sucks for looking at other girls...maybe they need a break, but Not Like This. or, you know, just. better communication...

-and the A-listers having a full packet and a stamp system. who organizes this. kwan fucking owning being the new danny though, this is hysterical. THE TUCKER/KWAN FLOWER FIELD TWIRL. UNIRONICALLY ADORABLE. and him giving it his all for the poetry slam. bless his HEARTTTT.

-Star owns. actually, all of the extra characters are shining this ep and I love it.

-INVISO-BILL??? NOOOO THEY DID HIM SOO DIRTY. DANNY SWEETIE IM SO SORRY.

-johnny and danny bein friends and staging a fake fight (which danny takes too seriously, once again this child has aggression he NEEDS TO WORK OUT) I hope these three stay friends, I said it before but danny needs more friendly ghosts to hang with.

-at this point, Danny's ghost enemies are a lot like, I dunno, batman's rouge gallery is the first thing that comes to mind. they all have their own gimmick and unique designs, but most of them are easy to beat after learning the Moral Lesson. I still get excited when any of them show up again, though. 18 is another valerie episode!!!! :D skulker really said you two will get along if I have to handcuff you together <3 and the gym teacher really said, youre married now, have a flour baby! ngl, I'm not really watching this show for the shipping stuff (which I am very scared to look at the fandom for after I finish this watch through- I feel like there's probably discourse/arguing about ships...) but. I'm gonna put my opinion out there. valerie/danny > sam/danny. maybe I just really love the enemies to lovers trope. And the secret identity stuff adds Extra Flavor.

-SKULKER JUST HAVING THE BOX GHOST AND DANGLING HIM BY A STRING. HILARIOUS. and him watching them with binoculars and making his silly little commentary. AND MAKING THE SACK BABY CRY. LMAO. THIS DUDE IS A BABY KIDNAPPER. skulker is super fun

-danny, you just...collapsed the water tower. and then attacked the nasty burger machine...mascot thingy...out of anger..I KEEP SAYING HE'S GOT ANGER ISSUES BUT. HE REALLY NEEDS A LESSON IN MANAGING COLLATERAL DAMAGE!!! So does valerie!! They're both pretty focused on each other. I mean it's good of Danny to say he's trying to make sure PEOPLE don't get hurt, but... (I mean I guess it's not something 14 year olds WOULD worry about, but as an adult im like, who's going to fix that? how much money will that take??)

-TUCKER MAKING BANK. and sam and tucker being super emotionally attached to their flour baby and being pretty good parents. that's cute...also him just straight kissing her and being like. WAIT. O_O JDSKAFHD. his mom baking them into cookies was the funniest possible result. tbh I dont feel like this is on tucker, if anything the other kid's shouldve been more responsible! He was just taking an opportunity to get that $$ which I respect

-Danny being more understanding of Valerie's situation in the end (helping her at her job, too, and trying to keep that a secret for her!!!) And seeing them work together this ep, and also her letting phantom get her out of the ghost zone...was very sweet. LOVE that. more valerie eps pls

-me when I realize vlad's big stupid house exploded because of his own carelessness with changing the ghost portal ectofiltrator or whatever: *pointing and laughing*

-me when I realize it means he's gonna go make danny's life hell for it somehow: >:(

-SCOOBY PARODY!!! I feel like there's gotta be some scooby doo/danny phantom crossover stuff, right? also, 'guys in white' men in black wishes

-'oh, that's right! dad married the love of your life! you're bitter and alone!' DANNNNNYY GET HIS ASS ONCE AGAIN WE ARE POINTING AND LAUGHING AT VLAD

-'jack, you captured the ghost boy!!' UMM. he did nothing <3 'we have a weapon's vault??' YOU HAVE A WEAPONS VAULT??? and jack didnt put a handle on the inside. of fucking course he didnt! why would you leave that to your son!! or expect him to clean YOUR LAB when its where you work with probably dangerous chemicals and weapons and hes 14!! give him normal chores, like, I dunno, vacuuming, laundry, dishes...CMON. I hate it here. But I'm glad Jack is more chill about danny while he's a ghost, and willing to work with him for this ep. AND. I DID ENJOY JACK PUNCHING VLAD IN THE FACE. AND GENERALLY JUST OWNING HIM. the ghost punchy fists are actually amazing. like yeah, just punch a ghost in the face. that rules.

-ep 20 opens with the coolest fucking ghost lady design. her tattoos can come off and fight. MA'AM. I like ur nose ring and your cape maam hello 👉👈😳

-sam's grandma is hilarious and the most valid member of her family and I love her. thats my grandma now. and tucker covering for sam by dressing as her. thats true friendship <3 also skipping school to go to a goth circus. just bestie things! sam's parents are haters but for all the wrong reasons.

-'my family has controlled ghosts with this for generations!' WAIT. WAIT FREAKSHOW /ISNT/ A GHOST? I didn't expect that...he's just a fucked up guy controlling ghosts? anyway watching danny shoot at police cars and rob banks while mind controlled. its like, the most stereotypical 'bad' things lmao. (tbh an evil ghost circus troupe is a sick concept)

this gives off big deviantart emo edit vibes

(I'm going to assume evil circus reaper danny has a lot of fan content. people love an edgy au, except this one is canon (even tho its via mind control...having the protag go evil otherwise might be hard, I guess?) but au where he stays with the troupe...that has to exist, right?)

ANYWAY. excited to start s2!! lowkey surprised by how many notes some of these posts have gotten. I've gone back and tagged them all with 'dp thoughts' so they're easier to find on my blog! ^^ and I will probably possibly do (more) fanart on my art blog after I finish the watch of the whole show, so like. @sanchoyodraws follow my art blog :)

[castielchitaqua]

kaddish, allen ginsberg

I Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village. downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I’ve been up all night, talking, talking, reading the Kaddish aloud, listening to Ray Charles blues shout blind on the phonograph the rhythm the rhythm—and your memory in my head three years after—And read Adonais’ last triumphant stanzas aloud—wept, realizing how we suffer— And how Death is that remedy all singers dream of, sing, remember, prophesy as in the Hebrew Anthem, or the Buddhist Book of Answers—and my own imagination of a withered leaf—at dawn— Dreaming back thru life, Your time—and mine accelerating toward Apocalypse, the final moment—the flower burning in the Day—and what comes after, looking back on the mind itself that saw an American city a flash away, and the great dream of Me or China, or you and a phantom Russia, or a crumpled bed that never existed— like a poem in the dark—escaped back to Oblivion— No more to say, and nothing to weep for but the Beings in the Dream, trapped in its disappearance, sighing, screaming with it, buying and selling pieces of phantom, worshipping each other, worshipping the God included in it all—longing or inevitability?—while it lasts, a Vision—anything more? It leaps about me, as I go out and walk the street, look back over my shoulder, Seventh Avenue, the battlements of window office buildings shouldering each other high, under a cloud, tall as the sky an instant—and the sky above—an old blue place. or down the Avenue to the south, to—as I walk toward the Lower East Side—where you walked 50 years ago, little girl—from Russia, eating the first poisonous tomatoes of America—frightened on the dock— then struggling in the crowds of Orchard Street toward what?—toward Newark— toward candy store, first home-made sodas of the century, hand-churned ice cream in backroom on musty brownfloor boards— Toward education marriage nervous breakdown, operation, teaching school, and learning to be mad, in a dream—what is this life? Toward the Key in the window—and the great Key lays its head of light on top of Manhattan, and over the floor, and lays down on the sidewalk—in a single vast beam, moving, as I walk down First toward the Yiddish Theater—and the place of poverty you knew, and I know, but without caring now—Strange to have moved thru Paterson, and the West, and Europe and here again, with the cries of Spaniards now in the doorstoops doors and dark boys on the street, fire escapes old as you -Tho you’re not old now, that’s left here with me— Myself, anyhow, maybe as old as the universe—and I guess that dies with us—enough to cancel all that comes—What came is gone forever every time— That’s good! That leaves it open for no regret—no fear radiators, lacklove, torture even toothache in the end— Though while it comes it is a lion that eats the soul—and the lamb, the soul, in us, alas, offering itself in sacrifice to change’s fierce hunger—hair and teeth—and the roar of bonepain, skull bare, break rib, rot-skin, braintricked Implacability. Ai! ai! we do worse! We are in a fix! And you’re out, Death let you out, Death had the Mercy, you’re done with your century, done with God, done with the path thru it—Done with yourself at last—Pure—Back to the Babe dark before your Father, before us all—before the world— There, rest. No more suffering for you. I know where you’ve gone, it’s good. No more flowers in the summer fields of New York, no joy now, no more fear of Louis, and no more of his sweetness and glasses, his high school decades, debts, loves, frightened telephone calls, conception beds, relatives, hands— No more of sister Elanor,.—she gone before you—we kept it secret—you killed her—or she killed herself to bear with you—an arthritic heart—But Death’s killed you both—No matter— Nor your memory of your mother, 1915 tears in silent movies weeks and weeks—forgetting, aggrieve watching Marie Dressler address humanity, Chaplin dance in youth, or Boris Godunov, Chaliapin’s at the Met, hailing his voice of a weeping Czar—by standing

room with Elanor & Max—watching also the Capitalists take seats in Orchestra, white furs, diamonds, with the YPSL’s hitch-hiking thru Pennsylvania, in black baggy gym skirts pants, photograph of 4 girls holding each other round the waste, and laughing eye, too coy, virginal solitude of 1920 all girls grown old, or dead, now, and that long hair in the grave—lucky to have husbands later— You made it—I came too—Eugene my brother before (still grieving now and will gream on to his last stiff hand, as he goes thru his cancer—or kill—later perhaps—soon he will think—) And it’s the last moment I remember, which I see them all, thru myself, now—tho not you I didn’t foresee what you felt—what more hideous gape of bad mouth came first—to you—and were you prepared? To go where? In that Dark—that—in that God? a radiance? A Lord in the Void? Like an eye in the black cloud in a dream? Adonoi at last, with you? Beyond my remembrance! Incapable to guess! Not merely the yellow skull in the grave, or a box of worm dust, and a stained ribbon—Deathshead with Halo? can you believe it? Is it only the sun that shines once for the mind, only the flash of existence, than none ever was? Nothing beyond what we have—what you had—that so pitiful—yet Triumph, to have been here, and changed, like a tree, broken, or flower—fed to the ground—but mad, with its petals, colored, thinking Great Universe, shaken, cut in the head, leaf stript, hid in an egg crate hospital, cloth wrapped, sore—freaked in the moon brain, Naughtless. No flower like that flower, which knew itself in the garden, and fought the knife—lost Cut down by an idiot Snowman’s icy—even in the Spring—strange ghost thought—some Death—Sharp icicle in his hand—crowned with old roses—a dog for his eyes—cock of a sweatshop—heart of electric irons. All the accumulations of life, that wear us out—clocks, bodies, consciousness, shoes, breasts—begotten sons—your Communism—‘Paranoia’ into hospitals. You once kicked Elanor in the leg, she died of heart failure later. You of stroke. Asleep? within a year, the two of you, sisters in death. Is Elanor happy? Max grieves alive in an office on Lower Broadway, lone large mustache over midnight Accountings, not sure. l His life passes—as he sees—and what does he doubt now? Still dream of making money, or that might have made money, hired nurse, had children, found even your Immortality, Naomi? I’ll see him soon. Now I’ve got to cut through—to talk to you—as I didn’t when you had a mouth. Forever. And we’re bound for that, Forever—like Emily Dickinson’s horses—headed to the End. They know the way—These Steeds—run faster than we think—it’s our own life they cross—and take with them. Magnificent, mourned no more, marred of heart, mind behind, married dreamed, mortal changed—Ass and face done with murder. In the world, given, flower maddened, made no Utopia, shut under pine, almed in Earth, balmed in Lone, Jehovah, accept. Nameless, One Faced, Forever beyond me, beginningless, endless, Father in death. Tho I am not there for this Prophecy, I am unmarried, I’m hymnless, I’m Heavenless, headless in blisshood I would still adore Thee, Heaven, after Death, only One blessed in Nothingness, not light or darkness, Dayless Eternity— Take this, this Psalm, from me, burst from my hand in a day, some of my Time, now given to Nothing—to praise Thee—But Death This is the end, the redemption from Wilderness, way for the Wonderer, House sought for All, black handkerchief washed clean by weeping—page beyond Psalm—Last change of mine and Naomi—to God’s perfect Darkness—Death, stay thy phantoms! II Over and over—refrain—of the Hospitals—still haven’t written your history—leave it abstract—a few images run thru the mind—like the saxophone chorus of houses and years—remembrance of electrical shocks. By long nites as a child in Paterson apartment, watching over your nervousness—you were fat—your next move— By that afternoon I stayed home from school to take care of you—once and for all—when I vowed forever that once man disagreed with my opinion of the cosmos, I was lost— By my

later burden—vow to illuminate mankind—this is release of particulars—(mad as you)—(sanity a trick of agreement)— But you stared out the window on the Broadway Church corner, and spied a mystical assassin from Newark, So phoned the Doctor—‘OK go way for a rest’—so I put on my coat and walked you downstreet—On the way a grammarschool boy screamed, unaccountably—‘Where you goin Lady to Death’? I shuddered— and you covered your nose with motheaten fur collar, gas mask against poison sneaked into downtown atmosphere, sprayed by Grandma— And was the driver of the cheesebox Public Service bus a member of the gang? You shuddered at his face, I could hardly get you on—to New York, very Times Square, to grab another Greyhound— where we hung around 2 hours fighting invisible bugs and jewish sickness—breeze poisoned by Roosevelt— out to get you—and me tagging along, hoping it would end in a quiet room in a Victorian house by a lake. Ride 3 hours thru tunnels past all American industry, Bayonne preparing for World War II, tanks, gas fields, soda factories, diners, loco-motive roundhouse fortress—into piney woods New Jersey Indians—calm towns—long roads thru sandy tree fields— Bridges by deerless creeks, old wampum loading the streambeddown there a tomahawk or Pocahontas bone—and a million old ladies voting for Roosevelt in brown small houses, roads off the Madness highway— perhaps a hawk in a tree, or a hermit looking for an owl-filled branch— All the time arguing—afraid of strangers in the forward double seat, snoring regardless—what busride they snore on now? ‘Allen, you don’t understand—it’s—ever since those 3 big sticks up my back—they did something to me in Hospital, they poisoned me, they want to see me dead—3 big sticks, 3 big sticks— ‘The Bitch! Old Grandma! Last week I saw her, dressed in pants like an old man, with a sack on her back, climbing up the brick side of the apartment ‘On the fire escape, with poison germs, to throw on me—at night—maybe Louis is helping her—he’s under her power— ‘I’m your mother, take me to Lakewood’ (near where Graf Zeppelin had crashed before, all Hitler in Explosion) ‘where I can hide.’ We got there—Dr. Whatzis rest home—she hid behind a closet—demanded a blood transfusion. We were kicked out—tramping with Valise to unknown shady lawn houses—dusk, pine trees after dark—long dead street filled with crickets and poison ivy— I shut her up by now—big house REST HOME ROOMS—gave the landlady her money for the week—carried up the iron valise—sat on bed waiting to escape— Neat room in attic with friendly bedcover—lace curtains—spinning wheel rug—Stained wallpaper old as Naomi. We were home. I left on the next bus to New York—laid my head back in the last seat, depressed—the worst yet to come?—abandoning her, rode in torpor—I was only 12. Would she hide in her room and come out cheerful for breakfast? Or lock her door and stare thru the window for sidestreet spies? Listen at keyholes for Hitlerian invisible gas? Dream in a chair—or mock me, by—in front of a mirror, alone? 12 riding the bus at nite thru New Jersey, have left Naomi to Parcae in Lakewood’s haunted house—left to my own fate bus—sunk in a seat—all violins broken—my heart sore in my ribs—mind was empty—Would she were safe in her coffin— Or back at Normal School in Newark, studying up on America in a black skirt—winter on the street without lunch—a penny a pickle—home at night to take care of Elanor in the bedroom— First nervous breakdown was 1919—she stayed home from school and lay in a dark room for three weeks—something bad—never said what—every noise hurt—dreams of the creaks of Wall Street— Before the gray Depression—went upstate New York—recovered—Lou took photo of her sitting crossleg on the grass—her long hair wound with flowers—smiling—playing lullabies on mandolin—poison ivy smoke in left-wing summer camps and me in infancy saw trees— or back teaching school, laughing with idiots, the backward classes—her Russian specialty—morons with dreamy lips, great eyes, thin feet & sicky fingers, swaybacked, rachitic— great heads pendulous

over Alice in Wonderland, a blackboard full of C A T. Naomi reading patiently, story out of a Communist fairy book—Tale of the Sudden Sweetness of the Dictator—Forgiveness of Warlocks—Armies Kissing— Deathsheads Around the Green Table—The King & the Workers—Paterson Press printed them up in the ’30s till she went mad, or they folded, both. O Paterson! I got home late that nite. Louis was worried. How could I be so—didn’t I think? I shouldn’t have left her. Mad in Lakewood. Call the Doctor. Phone the home in the pines. Too late. Went to bed exhausted, wanting to leave the world (probably that year newly in love with R         my high school mind hero, jewish boy who came a doctor later—then silent neat kid— I later laying down life for him, moved to Manhattan—followed him to college—Prayed on ferry to help mankind if admitted—vowed, the day I journeyed to Entrance Exam— by being honest revolutionary labor lawyer—would train for that—inspired by Sacco Vanzetti, Norman Thomas, Debs, Altgeld, Sand-burg, Poe—Little Blue Books. I wanted to be President, or Senator. ignorant woe—later dreams of kneeling by R’s shocked knees declaring my love of 1941—What sweetness he’d have shown me, tho, that I’d wished him & despaired—first love—a crush— Later a mortal avalanche, whole mountains of homosexuality, Matterhorns of cock, Grand Canyons of asshole—weight on my melancholy head— meanwhile I walked on Broadway imagining Infinity like a rubber ball without space beyond—what’s outside?—coming home to Graham Avenue still melancholy passing the lone green hedges across the street, dreaming after the movies—) The telephone rang at 2 A.M.—Emergency—she’d gone mad—Naomi hiding under the bed screaming bugs of Mussolini—Help! Louis! Buba! Fascists! Death!—the landlady frightened—old fag attendant screaming back at her— Terror, that woke the neighbors—old ladies on the second floor recovering from menopause—all those rags between thighs, clean sheets, sorry over lost babies—husbands ashen—children sneering at Yale, or putting oil in hair at CCNY—or trembling in Montclair State Teachers College like Eugene— Her big leg crouched to her breast, hand outstretched Keep Away, wool dress on her thighs, fur coat dragged under the bed—she barricaded herself under bedspring with suitcases. Louis in pajamas listening to phone, frightened—do now?—Who could know?—my fault, delivering her to solitude?—sitting in the dark room on the sofa, trembling, to figure out— He took the morning train to Lakewood, Naomi still under bed—thought he brought poison Cops—Naomi screaming—Louis what happened to your heart then? Have you been killed by Naomi’s ecstasy? Dragged her out, around the corner, a cab, forced her in with valise, but the driver left them off at drugstore. Bus stop, two hours’ wait. I lay in bed nervous in the 4-room apartment, the big bed in living room, next to Louis’ desk—shaking—he came home that nite, late, told me what happened. Naomi at the prescription counter defending herself from the enemy—racks of children’s books, douche bags, aspirins, pots, blood—‘Don’t come near me—murderers! Keep away! Promise not to kill me!’ Louis in horror at the soda fountain—with Lakewood girlscouts—Coke addicts—nurses—busmen hung on schedule—Police from country precinct, dumbed—and a priest dreaming of pigs on an ancient cliff? Smelling the air—Louis pointing to emptiness?—Customers vomiting their Cokes—or staring—Louis humiliated—Naomi triumphant—The Announcement of the Plot. Bus arrives, the drivers won’t have them on trip to New York. Phonecalls to Dr. Whatzis, ‘She needs a rest,’ The mental hospital—State Greystone Doctors—‘Bring her here, Mr. Ginsberg.’ Naomi, Naomi—sweating, bulge-eyed, fat, the dress unbuttoned at one side—hair over brow, her stocking hanging evilly on her legs—screaming for a blood transfusion—one righteous hand upraised—a shoe in it—barefoot in the Pharmacy— The enemies approach—what poisons? Tape recorders? FBI? Zhdanov hiding behind the counter? Trotsky mixing rat bacteria in the back of the store? Uncle Sam in Newark, plotting deathly

perfumes in the Negro district? Uncle Ephraim, drunk with murder in the politician’s bar, scheming of Hague? Aunt Rose passing water thru the needles of the Spanish Civil War? till the hired $35 ambulance came from Red Bank——Grabbed her arms—strapped her on the stretcher—moaning, poisoned by imaginaries, vomiting chemicals thru Jersey, begging mercy from Essex County to Morristown— And back to Greystone where she lay three years—that was the last breakthrough, delivered her to Madhouse again— On what wards—I walked there later, oft—old catatonic ladies, gray as cloud or ash or walls—sit crooning over floorspace—Chairs—and the wrinkled hags acreep, accusing—begging my 13-year-old mercy— ‘Take me home’—I went alone sometimes looking for the lost Naomi, taking Shock—and I’d say, ‘No, you’re crazy Mama,—Trust the Drs.’— And Eugene, my brother, her elder son, away studying Law in a furnished room in Newark— came Paterson-ward next day—and he sat on the broken-down couch in the living room—‘We had to send her back to Greystone’— —his face perplexed, so young, then eyes with tears—then crept weeping all over his face—‘What for?’ wail vibrating in his cheekbones, eyes closed up, high voice—Eugene’s face of pain. Him faraway, escaped to an Elevator in the Newark Library, his bottle daily milk on windowsill of $5 week furn room downtown at trolley tracks— He worked 8 hrs. a day for $20/wk—thru Law School years—stayed by himself innocent near negro whorehouses. Unlaid, poor virgin—writing poems about Ideals and politics letters to the editor Pat Eve News—(we both wrote, denouncing Senator Borah and Isolationists—and felt mysterious toward Paterson City Hall— I sneaked inside it once—local Moloch tower with phallus spire & cap o’ ornament, strange gothic Poetry that stood on Market Street—replica Lyons’ Hotel de Ville— wings, balcony & scrollwork portals, gateway to the giant city clock, secret map room full of Hawthorne—dark Debs in the Board of Tax—Rembrandt smoking in the gloom— Silent polished desks in the great committee room—Aldermen? Bd of Finance? Mosca the hairdresser aplot—Crapp the gangster issuing orders from the john—The madmen struggling over Zone, Fire, Cops & Backroom Metaphysics—we’re all dead—outside by the bus stop Eugene stared thru childhood— where the Evangelist preached madly for 3 decades, hard-haired, cracked & true to his mean Bible—chalked Prepare to Meet Thy God on civic pave— or God is Love on the railroad overpass concrete—he raved like I would rave, the lone Evangelist—Death on City Hall—) But Gene, young,—been Montclair Teachers College 4 years—taught half year & quit to go ahead in life—afraid of Discipline Problems—dark sex Italian students, raw girls getting laid, no English, sonnets disregarded—and he did not know much—just that he lost— so broke his life in two and paid for Law—read huge blue books and rode the ancient elevator 13 miles away in Newark & studied up hard for the future just found the Scream of Naomi on his failure doorstep, for the final time, Naomi gone, us lonely—home—him sitting there— Then have some chicken soup, Eugene. The Man of Evangel wails in front of City Hall. And this year Lou has poetic loves of suburb middle age—in secret—music from his 1937 book—Sincere—he longs for beauty— No love since Naomi screamed—since 1923?—now lost in Greystone ward—new shock for her—Electricity, following the 40 Insulin. And Metrazol had made her fat. So that a few years later she came home again—we’d much advanced and planned—I waited for that day—my Mother again to cook & —play the piano—sing at mandolin—Lung Stew, & Stenka Razin, & the communist line on the war with Finland—and Louis in debt—,uspected to he poisoned money—mysterious capitalisms —& walked down the long front hall & looked at the furniture. She never remembered it all. Some amnesia. Examined the doilies—and the dining room set was sold— the Mahogany table—20 years love—gone to the junk man—we still had the piano—and the book of Poe—and the Mandolin, tho needed some string, dusty— She went to the backroom to lie down in

bed and ruminate, or nap, hide—I went in with her, not leave her by herself—lay in bed next to her—shades pulled, dusky, late afternoon—Louis in front room at desk, waiting—perhaps boiling chicken for supper— ‘Don’t be afraid of me because I’m just coming back home from the mental hospital—I’m your mother—’ Poor love, lost—a fear—I lay there—Said, ‘I love you Naomi,’—stiff, next to her arm. I would have cried, was this the comfortless lone union?—Nervous, and she got up soon. Was she ever satisfied? And—by herself sat on the new couch by the front windows, uneasy—cheek leaning on her hand—narrowing eye—at what fate that day— Picking her tooth with her nail, lips formed an O, suspicion—thought’s old worn vagina—absent sideglance of eye—some evil debt written in the wall, unpaid—& the aged breasts of Newark come near— May have heard radio gossip thru the wires in her head, controlled by 3 big sticks left in her back by gangsters in amnesia, thru the hospital—caused pain between her shoulders— Into her head—Roosevelt should know her case, she told me—Afraid to kill her, now, that the government knew their names—traced back to Hitler—wanted to leave Louis’ house forever. One night, sudden attack—her noise in the bathroom—like croaking up her soul—convulsions and red vomit coming out of her mouth—diarrhea water exploding from her behind—on all fours in front of the toilet—urine running between her legs—left retching on the tile floor smeared with her black feces—unfainted— At forty, varicosed, nude, fat, doomed, hiding outside the apartment door near the elevator calling Police, yelling for her girlfriend Rose to help— Once locked herself in with razor or iodine—could hear her cough in tears at sink—Lou broke through glass green-painted door, we pulled her out to the bedroom. Then quiet for months that winter—walks, alone, nearby on Broadway, read Daily Worker—Broke her arm, fell on icy street— Began to scheme escape from cosmic financial murder-plots—later she ran away to the Bronx to her sister Elanor. And there’s another saga of late Naomi in New York. Or thru Elanor or the Workmen’s Circle, where she worked, ad-dressing envelopes, she made out—went shopping for Campbell’s tomato soup—saved money Louis mailed her— Later she found a boyfriend, and he was a doctor—Dr. Isaac worked for National Maritime Union—now Italian bald and pudgy old doll—who was himself an orphan—but they kicked him out—Old cruelties— Sloppier, sat around on bed or chair, in corset dreaming to herself—‘I’m hot—I’m getting fat—I used to have such a beautiful figure before I went to the hospital—You should have seen me in Woodbine—’ This in a furnished room around the NMU hall, 1943. Looking at naked baby pictures in the magazine—baby powder advertisements, strained lamb carrots—‘I will think nothing but beautiful thoughts.’ Revolving her head round and round on her neck at window light in summertime, in hypnotize, in doven-dream recall— ‘I touch his cheek, I touch his cheek, he touches my lips with his hand, I think beautiful thoughts, the baby has a beautiful hand.’— Or a No-shake of her body, disgust—some thought of Buchenwald—some insulin passes thru her head—a grimace nerve shudder at Involuntary (as shudder when I piss)—bad chemical in her cortex—‘No don’t think of that. He’s a rat.’ Naomi: ‘And when we die we become an onion, a cabbage, a carrot, or a squash, a vegetable.’ I come downtown from Columbia and agree. She reads the Bible, thinks beautiful thoughts all day. ‘Yesterday I saw God. What did he look like? Well, in the afternoon I climbed up a ladder—he has a cheap cabin in the country, like Monroe, N.Y. the chicken farms in the wood. He was a lonely old man with a white beard. ‘I cooked supper for him. I made him a nice supper—lentil soup, vegetables, bread & butter—miltz—he sat down at the table and ate, he was sad. ‘I told him, Look at all those fightings and killings down there, What’s the matter? Why don’t you put a stop to it? ‘I try, he said—That’s all he could do, he looked tired. He’s a bachelor so long, and he likes lentil

soup.’ Serving me meanwhile, a plate of cold fish—chopped raw cabbage dript with tapwater—smelly tomatoes—week-old health food—grated beets & carrots with leaky juice, warm—more and more disconsolate food—I can’t eat it for nausea sometimes—the Charity of her hands stinking with Manhattan, madness, desire to please me, cold undercooked fish—pale red near the bones. Her smells—and oft naked in the room, so that I stare ahead, or turn a book ignoring her. One time I thought she was trying to make me come lay her—flirting to herself at sink—lay back on huge bed that filled most of the room, dress up round her hips, big slash of hair, scars of operations, pancreas, belly wounds, abortions, appendix, stitching of incisions pulling down in the fat like hideous thick zippers—ragged long lips between her legs—What, even, smell of asshole? I was cold—later revolted a little, not much—seemed perhaps a good idea to try—know the Monster of the Beginning Womb—Perhaps—that way. Would she care? She needs a lover. Yisborach, v’yistabach, v’yispoar, v’yisroman, v’yisnaseh, v’yishador, v’yishalleh, v’yishallol, sh’meh d’kudsho, b’rich hu. And Louis reestablishing himself in Paterson grimy apartment in negro district—living in dark rooms—but found himself a girl he later married, falling in love again—tho sere & shy—hurt with 20 years Naomi’s mad idealism. Once I came home, after longtime in N.Y., he’s lonely—sitting in the bedroom, he at desk chair turned round to face me—weeps, tears in red eyes under his glasses— That we’d left him—Gene gone strangely into army—she out on her own in N.Y., almost childish in her furnished room. So Louis walked downtown to postoffice to get mail, taught in highschool—stayed at poetry desk, forlorn—ate grief at Bickford’s all these years—are gone. Eugene got out of the Army, came home changed and lone—cut off his nose in jewish operation—for years stopped girls on Broadway for cups of coffee to get laid—Went to NYU, serious there, to finish Law.— And Gene lived with her, ate naked fishcakes, cheap, while she got crazier—He got thin, or felt helpless, Naomi striking 1920 poses at the moon, half-naked in the next bed. bit his nails and studied—was the weird nurse-son—Next year he moved to a room near Columbia—though she wanted to live with her children— ‘Listen to your mother’s plea, I beg you’—Louis still sending her checks—I was in bughouse that year 8 months—my own visions unmentioned in this here Lament— But then went half mad—Hitler in her room, she saw his mustache in the sink—afraid of Dr. Isaac now, suspecting that he was in on the Newark plot—went up to Bronx to live near Elanor’s Rheumatic Heart— And Uncle Max never got up before noon, tho Naomi at 6 A.M. was listening to the radio for spies—or searching the windowsill, for in the empty lot downstairs, an old man creeps with his bag stuffing packages of garbage in his hanging black overcoat. Max’s sister Edie works—17 years bookkeeper at Gimbels—lived downstairs in apartment house, divorced—so Edie took in Naomi on Rochambeau Ave— Woodlawn Cemetery across the street, vast dale of graves where Poe once—Last stop on Bronx subway—lots of communists in that area. Who enrolled for painting classes at night in Bronx Adult High School—walked alone under Van Cortlandt Elevated line to class—paints Naomiisms— Humans sitting on the grass in some Camp No-Worry summers yore—saints with droopy faces and long-ill-fitting pants, from hospital— Brides in front of Lower East Side with short grooms—lost El trains running over the Babylonian apartment rooftops in the Bronx— Sad paintings—but she expressed herself. Her mandolin gone, all strings broke in her head, she tried. Toward Beauty? or some old life Message? But started kicking Elanor, and Elanor had heart trouble—came upstairs and asked her about Spydom for hours,—Elanor frazzled. Max away at office, accounting for cigar stores till at night. ‘I am a great woman—am truly a beautiful soul—and because of that they (Hitler, Grandma, Hearst, the Capitalists, Franco, Daily News, the ’20s, Mussolini, the living

dead) want to shut me up—Buba’s the head of a spider network—’ Kicking the girls, Edie & Elanor—Woke Edie at midnite to tell her she was a spy and Elanor a rat. Edie worked all day and couldn’t take it—She was organizing the union.—And Elanor began dying, upstairs in bed. The relatives call me up, she’s getting worse—I was the only one left—Went on the subway with Eugene to see her, ate stale fish— ‘My sister whispers in the radio—Louis must be in the apartment—his mother tells him what to say—LIARS!—I cooked for my two children—I played the mandolin—’ Last night the nightingale woke me / Last night when all was still / it sang in the golden moonlight / from on the wintry hill. She did. I pushed her against the door and shouted ‘DON’T KICK ELANOR!’—she stared at me—Contempt—die—disbelief her sons are so naive, so dumb—‘Elanor is the worst spy! She’s taking orders!’ ‘—No wires in the room!’—I’m yelling at her—last ditch, Eugene listening on the bed—what can he do to escape that fatal Mama—‘You’ve been away from Louis years already—Grandma’s too old to walk—’ We’re all alive at once then—even me & Gene & Naomi in one mythological Cousinesque room—screaming at each other in the Forever—I in Columbia jacket, she half undressed. I banging against her head which saw Radios, Sticks, Hitlers—the gamut of Hallucinations—for real—her own universe—no road that goes elsewhere—to my own—No America, not even a world— That you go as all men, as Van Gogh, as mad Hannah, all the same—to the last doom—Thunder, Spirits, lightning! I’ve seen your grave! O strange Naomi! My own—cracked grave! Shema Y’Israel—I am Svul Avrum—you—in death? Your last night in the darkness of the Bronx—I phonecalled—thru hospital to secret police that came, when you and I were alone, shrieking at Elanor in my ear—who breathed hard in her own bed, got thin— Nor will forget, the doorknock, at your fright of spies,—Law advancing, on my honor—Eternity entering the room—you running to the bathroom undressed, hiding in protest from the last heroic fate— staring at my eyes, betrayed—the final cops of madness rescuing me—from your foot against the broken heart of Elanor, your voice at Edie weary of Gimbels coming home to broken radio—and Louis needing a poor divorce, he wants to get married soon—Eugene dreaming, hiding at 125 St., suing negroes for money on crud furniture, defending black girls— Protests from the bathroom—Said you were sane—dressing in a cotton robe, your shoes, then new, your purse and newspaper clippingsno—your honesty— as you vainly made your lips more real with lipstick, looking in the mirror to see if the Insanity was Me or a earful of police. or Grandma spying at 78—Your vision—Her climbing over the walls of the cemetery with political kidnapper’s bag—or what you saw on the walls of the Bronx, in pink nightgown at midnight, staring out the window on the empty lot— Ah Rochambeau Ave.—Playground of Phantoms—last apartment in the Bronx for spies—last home for Elanor or Naomi, here these communist sisters lost their revolution— ‘All right—put on your coat Mrs.—let’s go—We have the wagon downstairs—you want to come with her to the station?’ The ride then—held Naomi’s hand, and held her head to my breast, I’m taller—kissed her and said I did it for the best—Elanor sick—and Max with heart condition—Needs— To me—‘Why did you do this?’—‘Yes Mrs., your son will have to leave you in an hour’—The Ambulance came in a few hours—drove off at 4 A.M. to some Bellevue in the night downtown—gone to the hospital forever. I saw her led away—she waved, tears in her eyes. Two years, after a trip to Mexico—bleak in the flat plain near Brentwood, scrub brush and grass around the unused RR train track to the crazyhouse— new brick 20 story central building—lost on the vast lawns of madtown on Long Island—huge cities of the moon. Asylum spreads out giant wings above the path to a minute black hole—the door—entrance thru crotch— I went in—smelt funny—the halls again—up elevator—to a glass door on a Women’s Ward—to Naomi—Two nurses buxom white—They led her out, Naomi

stared—and I gaspt—She’d had a stroke— Too thin, shrunk on her bones—age come to Naomi—now broken into white hair—loose dress on her skeleton—face sunk, old! withered—cheek of crone— One hand stiff—heaviness of forties & menopause reduced by one heart stroke, lame now—wrinkles—a scar on her head, the lobotomy—ruin, the hand dipping downwards to death— O Russian faced, woman on the grass, your long black hair is crowned with flowers, the mandolin is on your knees— Communist beauty, sit here married in the summer among daisies, promised happiness at hand— holy mother, now you smile on your love, your world is born anew, children run naked in the field spotted with dandelions, they eat in the plum tree grove at the end of the meadow and find a cabin where a white-haired negro teaches the mystery of his rainbarrel— blessed daughter come to America, I long to hear your voice again, remembering your mother’s music, in the Song of the Natural Front— O glorious muse that bore me from the womb, gave suck first mystic life & taught me talk and music, from whose pained head I first took Vision— Tortured and beaten in the skull—What mad hallucinations of the damned that drive me out of my own skull to seek Eternity till I find Peace for Thee, O Poetry—and for all humankind call on the Origin Death which is the mother of the universe!—Now wear your nakedness forever, white flowers in your hair, your marriage sealed behind the sky—no revolution might destroy that maidenhood— O beautiful Garbo of my Karma—all photographs from 1920 in Camp Nicht-Gedeiget here unchanged—with all the teachers from Vewark—Nor Elanor be gone, nor Max await his specter—nor Louis retire from this High School— Back! You! Naomi! Skull on you! Gaunt immortality and revolution come—small broken woman—the ashen indoor eyes of hospitals, ward grayness on skin— ‘Are you a spy?’ I sat at the sour table, eyes filling with tears—‘Who are you? Did Louis send you?—The wires—’ in her hair, as she beat on her head—‘I’m not a bad girl—don’t murder me!—I hear the ceiling—I raised two children—’ Two years since I’d been there—I started to cry—She stared—nurse broke up the meeting a moment—I went into the bathroom to hide, against the toilet white walls ‘The Horror’ I weeping—to see her again—‘The Horror’—as if she were dead thru funeral rot in—‘The Horror!’ I came back she yelled more—they led her away—‘You’re not Allen—’ I watched her face—but she passed by me, not looking— Opened the door to the ward,—she went thru without a glance back, quiet suddenly—I stared out—she looked old—the verge of the grave—‘All the Horror!’ Another year, I left N.Y.—on West Coast in Berkeley cottage dreamed of her soul—that, thru life, in what form it stood in that body, ashen or manic, gone beyond joy— near its death—with eyes—was my own love in its form, the Naomi, my mother on earth still—sent her long letter—& wrote hymns to the mad—Work of the merciful Lord of Poetry. that causes the broken grass to be green, or the rock to break in grass—or the Sun to be constant to earth—Sun of all sunflowers and days on bright iron bridges—what shines on old hospitals—as on my yard— Returning from San Francisco one night, Orlovsky in my room—Whalen in his peaceful chair—a telegram from Gene, Naomi dead— Outside I bent my head to the ground under the bushes near the garage—knew she was better— at last—not left to look on Earth alone—2 years of solitude—no one, at age nearing 60—old woman of skulls—once long-tressed Naomi of Bible— or Ruth who wept in America—Rebecca aged in Newark—David remembering his Harp, now lawyer at Yale or Srul Avrum—Israel Abraham—myself—to sing in the wilderness toward God—O Elohim!—so to the end—2 days after her death I got her letter— Strange Prophecies anew! She wrote—‘The key is in the window, the key is in the sunlight at the window—I have the key—Get married Allen don’t take drugs—the key is in the bars, in the sunlight in the window. Love, your mother’ which is Naomi— Hymmnn In the world which He has created according to his will Blessed Praised Magnified Lauded

Exalted the Name of the Holy One Blessed is He! In the house in Newark Blessed is He! In the madhouse Blessed is He! In the house of Death Blessed is He! Blessed be He in homosexuality! Blessed be He in Paranoia! Blessed be He in the city! Blessed be He in the Book! Blessed be He who dwells in the shadow! Blessed be He! Blessed be He! Blessed be you Naomi in tears! Blessed be you Naomi in fears! Blessed Blessed Blessed in sickness! Blessed be you Naomi in Hospitals! Blessed be you Naomi in solitude! Blest be your triumph! Blest be your bars! Blest be your last years’ loneliness! Blest be your failure! Best be your stroke! Blest be the close of your eye! Blest be the gaunt of your cheek! Blest be your withered thighs! Blessed be Thee Naomi in Death! Blessed be Death! Blessed be Death! Blessed be He Who leads all sorrow to Heaven! Blessed be He in the end! Blessed be He who builds Heaven in Darkness! Blessed Blessed Blessed be He! Blessed be He! Blessed be Death on us All! III Only to have not forgotten the beginning in which she drank cheap sodas in the morgues of Newark, only to have seen her weeping on gray tables in long wards of her universe only to have known the weird ideas of Hitler at the door, the wires in her head, the three big sticks rammed down her back, the voices in the ceiling shrieking out her ugly early lays for 30 years, only to have seen the time-jumps, memory lapse, the crash of wars, the roar and silence of a vast electric shock, only to have seen her painting crude pictures of Elevateds running over the rooftops of the Bronx her brothers dead in Riverside or Russia, her lone in Long Island writing a last letter—and her image in the sunlight at the window ‘The key is in the sunlight at the window in the bars the key is in the sunlight,’ only to have come to that dark night on iron bed by stroke when the sun gone down on Long Island and the vast Atlantic roars outside the great call of Being to its own to come back out of the Nightmare—divided creation—with her head lain on a pillow of the hospital to die —in one last glimpse—all Earth one everlasting Light in the familiar black-out—no tears for this vision— But that the key should be left behind—at the window—the key in the sunlight—to the living—that can take that slice of light in hand—and turn the door—and look back see Creation glistening backwards to the same grave, size of universe, size of the tick of the hospital's clock on the archway over the white door— IV O mother what have I left out O mother what have I forgotten O mother farewell with a long black shoe farewell with Communist Party and a broken stocking farewell with six dark hairs on the wen of your breast farewell with your old dress and a long black beard around the vagina farewell with your sagging belly with your fear of Hitler with your mouth of bad short stories with your fingers of rotten mandolins with your arms of fat Paterson porches with your belly of strikes and smokestacks with your chin of Trotsky and the Spanish War with your voice singing for the decaying overbroken workers with your nose of bad lay with your nose of the smell of the pickles of Newark with your eyes with your eyes of Russia with your eyes of no money with your eyes of false China with your eyes of Aunt Elanor with your eyes of starving India with your eyes pissing in the park with your eyes of America taking a fall with your eyes of your failure at the piano with your eyes of your relatives in California with your eyes of Ma Rainey dying in an aumbulance with your eyes of Czechoslovakia attacked by robots with your eyes going to painting class at night in the Bronx with your eyes of the killer Grandma you see on the horizon from the Fire-Escape with your eyes running naked out of the apartment screaming into the hall with your eyes being led away by policemen to an aumbulance with your eyes strapped down on the operating table with your eyes with the pancreas removed with your eyes of appendix operation with your eyes of abortion with your eyes of ovaries removed with your eyes of shock with your

eyes of lobotomy with your eyes of divorce with your eyes of stroke with your eyes alone with your eyes with your eyes with your Death full of Flowers V Caw caw caw crows shriek in the white sun over grave stones in Long Island Lord Lord Lord Naomi underneath this grass my halflife and my own as hers caw caw my eye be buried in the same Ground where I stand in Angel Lord Lord great Eye that stares on All and moves in a black cloud caw caw strange cry of Beings flung up into sky over the waving trees Lord Lord O Grinder of giant Beyonds my voice in a boundless field in Sheol Caw caw the call of Time rent out of foot and wing an instant in the universe Lord Lord an echo in the sky the wind through ragged leaves the roar of memory caw caw all years my birth a dream caw caw New York the bus the broken shoe the vast highschool caw caw all Visions of the Lord Lord Lord Lord caw caw caw Lord Lord Lord caw caw caw Lord Paris, December 1957—New York, 1959

[izzyfandoms]

Sleepality - Inky Freckles

SHIPS: Sleepality, background Virmile and Thomgan, and mentioned Dukeceit (though neither of them show up)

WARNINGS: Remus sends one text message with an implied threat (not towards the recipient), very very background sympathetic deceit and remus (they aren't acc in any scenes), mild swearing

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @ajdraws0430 @phantomofthesanderssides @creativity-killed-thekitten @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread

Masterpost

Patton chewed distractedly on the end of his pen, tapping his foot on his bedroom floor as his eyes remained on his clock, watching as the seconds and the minutes ticked by.

Five minutes. Ten seconds.

Five minutes and ten seconds until the moment he turned sixteen.

January 15th, 1:46 am on the dot: the exact date and time of Patton’s birth. Precisely sixteen years after that moment, his soul would open up, and the bond between him and his soulmate would be formed, like an invisible string from one soul to the other. Any ink spilled on Patton’s skin would show up on his soulmate’s, too, and vice versa. Of course, nothing would happen if Patton’s soulmate wasn’t also sixteen yet, but it was still a big moment in his young life.

(If he even had a soulmate, that was. Most people didn’t, but Patton wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t hopeful.)

Four minutes. Thirty-six seconds.

Patton got up from his desk, pacing around the room a few times before sitting down on his bed, leaning back against the pillows and pulling his knees to his chest. Despite the coolness of his room, and the goose-bumps on his arms, he was dressed in a worn blue t-shirt and pyjama shorts, revealing as much skin as possible, just in case. His father, Roman, had gifted him a new pack of pens – the ones made specially to be safe for skin – and he’d picked out the glittery light blue one, his favourite colour, ready to write.

Three minutes. Twelve seconds.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Patton mumbled.

Three minutes. Seven seconds.

He yawned loudly, stretching and almost dropping his pen. It was late – much later than he usually stayed up. Patton was a well-behaved kid; he went to bed when his father told him to, never stayed out past curfew. He was usually fast asleep by 11pm at latest, so this was rather unusual for him.

Tonight was one of a kind, after all.

Two minutes. Fifty-one seconds.

The tick of the clock was maddeningly slow, every second seeming to take hours. Patton couldn’t wait for when he didn’t have to keep watching.  

He reached over to his bedside table, taking his phone and switching it on.

There was one new message, from his uncle Remus, sent a few minutes ago.

UNCLE REMUS

tell your soulmate if he ever hurts you ill rip off his dick and shove it down his throat

Patton sighed, switching off his phone and placing it back down beside him. He wasn’t sure why his uncle was so certain that he had a soulmate – he claimed it was because he was psychic, though his husband, Janus, had chided him and told him not to get Patton’s hopes up.  

It was hard not to be hopeful. Impossible.

One minute. Forty-nine seconds.

Patton chewed nervously on his lip, looking over his freckled arms and wondering what exactly he’d write to his soulmate.

Would a simple ‘hello’ suffice?

There was no point in writing a whole paragraph, especially when it was statistically unlikely that Patton even had a soulmate – and even if he did, perhaps they were younger, and their connection wouldn’t start until his soulmate turned sixteen, too.

One minute. Zero seconds.

A minute. A minute. A minute. Just a minute until Patton (maybe) talked to his soulmate for the first time. That was so little time – though it felt like so much.

Patton couldn’t help but burst into delighted laughter, and he was sure that if anybody was watching him, they’d think he was insane. The hope bubbled up inside him, like a cup overflowing with water, unable to be suppressed.

Fifty seconds.

He moved forward, and then lay down on his back, spreading his arms out like a starfish.

Patton tried to keep the hope down, tried to keep it from spilling over even more. Or maybe that was nausea, swirling in his stomach, but it almost felt too good to be that. Too happy. Too excited. Both, maybe.

Forty seconds.

Patton twirled the pen in his hand.

It slipped from his fingers, hitting the carpet with a quiet thump.

He bent down – wobbling slightly and nearly tumbling right off his bed – picking it back up and then sitting up again. He moved so his back was pressed against the wall, and tilted his head up to look at the pattern at the ceiling, counting each swirl.

He glanced back at the clock.

Twenty seconds.

His heart thumped loudly in his chest, and his eyes remained on the clock, watching it tick.

Ten seconds.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Zero.

Zero. Zero. Zero.

Patton sat up straight, squeezing the pen tightly, so tightly that his nails dug into his palm.

He pulled off the cap, dropping it on the bed beside him and holding the tip just above his wrist. His hand shook (nervousness or excitement? Both) as he pondered what to write for another moment.

He pressed the pen to his skin.

Hello?

Hopefully that was good enough.

Patton waited a few seconds, almost a whole minute, and then sighed, leaning back so his head hit the wall and closing his eyes. He was disappointed, but he knew that it was his own fault. He shouldn’t have let himself get so hopeful. Maybe he didn’t have a soulmate – that was alright, his uncles weren’t soulmates and yet they were wonderfully happy together.

(But his brother, Emile, did have a soulmate, and there was something amazing about the way he and Virgil could practically read each other’s minds, communicating effortlessly without saying a word. Patton wanted that. He really, desperately wanted that, more than anything else in the world.)

He wouldn’t cry.  

He wanted to cry, but he wouldn’t.

His lower lip trembled.

All of a sudden, Patton felt a funny sensation on his wrist, like someone else was writing on it – the non-existent pen so light on his skin he almost couldn’t feel it. Almost.

Patton’s eyes shot open, and he immediately lifted his wrist to stare at it, wide-eyed.

His breath stuttered at the words now written in black ink just below his greeting.

holy shit

Before Patton could truly process what was going on, before he could regain his breath, the sensation resumed, and more words began to appear below those first ones.

hi

guess im ur soulmate lol

Patton couldn’t help but giggle, practically vibrating with excitement.

He picked his pen back up, ignoring the slight stain he’d left on his bedsheets. He’d spilt enough juice and milk on his bed to care about one little stain, especially right now, when he had a much more important thing to focus on.

Oh my gosh!!!!!!

Soulmate!!!

Im Patton!

Patton Picani!!!

thats a lot of exclamation marks babe

Nervousness tinged the edges of Patton’s bubble of excitement, enough that he almost didn’t notice the use of the word ‘babe’, which made his heart skip a beat.

sorry

not a bad thing

its cute

Patton bit his lip, wiggling excitedly as his heartrate increased. He watched as the words continued coming. They were messy, but Patton was sure the handwriting was the prettiest he’d ever seen, though he could admit that he might’ve been a little biased. He would read a million books written in this handwriting.

im Remy

Sanders

my bdays acc the 16th lol

tomorrow

i turn 17

Its my birthday today!!!!

Only after Patton wrote that did he realise how obvious it was – of course it was his birthday – but he didn’t particularly care. The ticking of the clock had faded into background noise, and it was hard to believe it had ever annoyed him so much, though it was impossible for him to think of anything negative right now. He was floating on cloud nine.

happy birthday

were running out of arm space

id have to strip to get leg room

wanna gimme ur number?

Okay!!!

They quickly exchanged phone numbers, and Patton immediately grabbed his phone, creating a new contact labelled ‘Remy’ followed by seven colourful hearts – a rainbow of love. But before he could text Remy, Remy texted him first.

REMY:

what time is it for u

Patton glanced at the clock.

PATTON:

Almost 2am

REMY:

same

Realisation struck Patton, and his eyes widened with guilt and concern. He bit his lip, and quickly resumed typing.

PATTON:

Oh my gosh im so sorry!!!! Did I wake you up?

REMY:

nah babe dw bout it

i was already up

i always sleep late

PATTON:

That sounds unhealthy :(

Get some rest!!!

REMY:

ha

u sound like my dads lol

PATTON:

What are they like?

REMY:

my dads?

its just the three of us

their names are logan and thomas and theyre the sappiest motherfuckers on earth

gotta love em tho

theyre gonna be real thrilled when they find out bout u

bet theyll love you right away

wbu  

whats ur fam like

PATTON:

Oh! Well ive got my dad

His name’s Roman

He works in theatre!!! Hes so cool

And I’ve got my older brother Emile hes 22 and hes a therapist

He uses cartoons to help people!!

Hes also got a soulmate his name is Virgil and hes a florist

They got married last year and the wedding was so much fun!!! So many pretty flowers!!!

And I’ve got my uncle Remus hes my dads twin hes a writer and his husband Janus is a lawyer theyre also both so cool!!!

And that’s everyone!!

REMY:

if theyre all as sweet as u sugar then im sure ur all v popular

PATTON:

Well we do have dinner with our neighbours a lot!!!

Mrs Smith gives me lots of candy

Its often stale but I eat it anyway cos shes just so sweet!

Sweeter than her candy lol

Patton’s door suddenly swung open, and he jumped, his phone slipping from his fingers and landing right in his lap. His father, Roman, stepped inside, yawning and rubbing his eyes, wincing at the bright light that hung from the ceiling.

“You still up, Pat?” He asked sleepily.

He squinted, his eyes landing on the still-on phone in Patton’s lap.

“Who are you te- by the glittering horn of a unicorn! Is that writing on your arm?” He sat down, taking Patton’s arm and looking over the words. He then glanced back up at his son, his eyes shining excitedly. “You have a soulmate,” He breathed.

“I do!” Patton exclaimed, bouncing excitedly in place. “His name is Remy and he turns seventeen tomorrow and he’s just so cool!”

Roman beamed. “Wow, I’m so incredibly happy for you, Pat!” He said. Then, he chuckled, his smile turning a little teasing. “But... it’s late, and you really should be sleeping. And I’m betting that Remy should be, too.”

Patton pouted a little. “But it’s a Friday! I don’t have any school tomorrow.”

“But the family’s coming over tomorrow at 10 for your birthday, and I know you. You’re gonna be all grumbly in the morning, instead of our happy-pappy Patton, and that’ll be even worse the less sleep you get.”

Patton drooped, like a little wilting flower, but couldn’t deny that his father was right.

“Okay...” He frowned, picking up his phone, switching off the screen without looking at it, and holding it against his chest. “Can I at least say night to Remy, first?”

Roman smiled. “Sure.”

He leant forward, squeezing Patton’s arm supportively, before pressing a quick kiss to his son’s forehead. Roman gave him one last smile, affectionately ruffling his hair, before pulling back and standing up. He brushed the non-existent dirt from his pyjamas.

“Goodnight, Pat,” He said. “And happy birthday.”

In the excitement that was talking to Remy, Patton had almost forgotten that it was his birthday, and he blinked in surprise as Roman left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Patton then took a deep breath, before switching his phone back on to see whatever messages he’d missed.

REMY:

u rlly r an angel huh

PATTON:

Awwwww!!

Your making me blush

REMY:

thats the goal babe

PATTON:

Such a flirt!!

REMY:

im gonna be ten times more flirty when i get to see ur pretty face in person

PATTON:

How do you know Im pretty?

You havent even seen me yet

REMY:

i can just tell

im awesome like that

i bet ur the cutest person in the whole damn world

the whole damn universe

but while were on the subject of seeing each other

were waiting to meet naturally right?

PATTON:

Yeah!

Its good luck  

REMY:

yea

PATTON:

Welp!!!

Dad says I gotta go to sleep now!!

Night <3<3<3

REMY:

night xoxox

Patton switched off his phone, placing it on his bedside table and getting off the bed. He wobbled slightly as he stood up, suddenly realising how tired he really was, and quickly walked up to his fairy lights, switching them on before switching off the main light. He then climbed back into bed, settling in the soft nest of pastel pillows and blankets, and his last thought before he fell asleep was of his soulmate.

He barely knew Remy, but he already couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with him.

***

The sound of the alarm from Remy’s phone rang through the room, waking him up suddenly. His immediate reaction was to groan, shutting it off quickly and then returning to the warm comfort of his mattress and pillows and blanket. It was the weekend, he had no plans, so if his dads wanted him up, they could come in and get him up themselves. Remy wanted to sleep.

Then, the memories of the night before flooded back to him, and he shot up in bed, pulling out his arm and staring at it wide-eyed.

The words Patton had written last night had now been washed away – likely to leave room for new words and new conversations – whilst Remy’s words still remained, though now a little smudged and faded. The only sign that Patton’s words had ever been there in the first place was the new word on his wrist, just below his palm, in baby blue, like the ones before.

Morning <3

Remy grinned, jumping out of bed much more enthusiastically than he usually did, grabbing the black pen on his bedside table and rushing to the bathroom, thankfully not bumping into either of his dads on the way there.

He washed his arms as quickly as he could, leaving them a little sore and red, though he didn’t care, and uncapped his pen with his teeth, leaving the lid in his mouth.

mornin

!!!!!

Do you always get up this late?

Remy laughed. The handwriting was a little larger and a little neater than his, and each i was dotted with a heart, which made him even more convinced that his soulmate was probably the cutest person on earth.

what time is it

10:30

later usually

what time did u get up

8:30

oof

i could never

What do you do for school then?

suffer

Remy took the pen lid out of his mouth, pocketing it and twirling the uncapped pen between his fingers, watching as more light blue words appeared on his arm. The sensation was feather-light, barely there, but impossible to ignore.

Aww no!!

I don’t want you to suffer :(

dw babe ive got coffee

life saver

id die without it

100%

Well make sure you don’t drink too much!!!!

Its bad for you!!

dw my dad always tells me that

he keeps an eye on it

Which one?

logan

Okay

There was a brief pause, and Remy almost continued writing, but he got the feeling that Patton wasn’t done, so he just waited patiently, tapping his foot against the tiled bathroom floor.

Do you mind if I doodle on my arms?

I usually do when Im bored but I thought Id ask

I wont if you don’t want me to tho

go ahead

what do u doodle?

I usually just connect my freckles

Like little constellations!!!!

It was impossible to keep the grin on Remy’s face from widening – Patton's enthusiasm was adorable and infectious – and he sat down on the edge of the bathtub, crossing one leg over the other as he pressed his pen to his skin and continued writing.

u got a lot of freckles?

Yup!

Theyre everywhere

everywhere?

Yeah!

hm

one day  

im gonna kiss every single one of your freckles

(Perhaps that was a little bold for only their second conversation, but Remy was a natural flirt, and Patton was his soulmate, after all. He’d back down at any sign of discomfort, but so far Patton had seemed receptive.)

every single one

Thats a lot of kisses

not enough

but itll be a good start

A little, swirly scribble appeared just beside the words Remy had written – the universal key-smash equivalent for soulmates writing on their skin. Just the thought that he was already able to fluster Patton so easily made Remy very, very happy. He grinned.

Gtg! Presents time!

Ill talk to you later <3<3<3

later xoxo

Remy fished the pen lid back out of his pocket, capping the pen and pocketing it. He then strolled back out of the bathroom, down the stairs, and towards the kitchen.

His fathers were both sat at the kitchen table, eating breakfast and talking. Their legs were pressed together under the table, and it was clear they’d just been flirting. Both Logan and Thomas looked up when Remy entered the room, surprised.

“What kind of natural disaster got you up before midday?” Thomas joked.

Remy waved his arm, showing off the writing, and Logan choked on his coffee. Thomas patted his back a few times worriedly, and Remy waited impatiently for the conversation to resume, tapping his foot against the floor.

“Is that what I think it is?” Logan asked incredulously, once he was breathing again.

Remy nodded. “Yup. Can I make coffee?”

Thomas nodded slowly, but it was clear he was much more focused on the previous topic at hand.

“You have a soulmate?” He asked. “Oh my gosh! What’s their name? Aren’t you gonna tell us about them?”

“Well, his name’s Patton,” Remy began, heading towards the coffee machine and immediately getting to work to make himself a large mug. “It’s his birthday today – it was actually, like, 2am, or something – and he’s real cute. I think you’ll both like him.”

Thomas exchanged a look with his husband – the former much more openly thrilled, whilst the latter looked more confused, though undeniably pleased. He then stood up, opening his arms immediately.

“I think this calls for a family hug,” Thomas grinned.

Logan sighed, but put his own coffee mug back down, getting up obediently.

Remy groaned. “Really? Before my coffee? Do I have to?”

“Yup! Right now,” Thomas said, wrapping one arm around Logan’s waist and resting his chin on his head, keeping his other arm outstretched, awaiting their son. “This is a big moment! It calls for a family hug. C’mere.”

“There is no point refusing, Remy,” Logan said dryly. “I learnt that a long time ago.”

“Aww, you love me.”

“Of course. That is why we got married, after all.”

Remy groaned again. “Are you two really flirting, right now? Gross.”

“Well, if you want us to stop flirting, you’re gonna have to join the hug.”

Remy sighed exaggeratedly, dragging his feet as he walked up to his dads, reluctantly joining the family hug. Then, he pulled back as quickly as he could get away with, making a face and turning back to the coffee machine. He quickly made himself a large mug – with excessive amounts of milk and sugar, something his father would usually criticise, though he seemed to turn a blind eye for today.

Remy then sat down at the table, beside Thomas, sipping eagerly at his coffee and leaning back in his chair.

His fathers didn’t take their eyes off of his arm, clearly reading the words, and after about a minute, Remy rolled his eyes, placing the coffee on his table and crossing his arms.

“What are you looking at?”

“Attitude, Remy,” Thomas sighed. “Be nice. And we’re looking at your arm because we’re excited! You have a soulmate, that’s a really big deal! We should celebrate.”

Remy perked up. “Celebrate?”

Logan nodded in agreement. “Perhaps tonight we could have dinner at the Italian place that you like.”

“Ooh, the one with that fancy pasta?”

“Weren’t we planning on going there tomorrow?” Thomas asked his husband.

Remy blinked, surprised. “We were?”

Thomas blinked, and then gave his husband a slightly sheepish smile. “I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.”

Logan sighed. “Well, I think we can put that off for tomorrow, then. Today... you may invite a few friends over.” Remy opened his mouth, but Logan quickly continued, interrupting him before he could speak. “Three friends, maximum. No parties.”

Remy pouted. “Only three? Lame.”

“If you complain, we’ll bring it down to two.”

“Three sounds great!”

***

Patton picked up his phone, holding it to his ear as he paced casually around his room.

“Emile!” He greeted. “How are you?”

“Happy birthday, Pat!” Emile greeted cheerfully, and Patton could practically hear the usual smile on his face. “And I’m doing great. Virgil invited his brother to dinner yesterday, so that was fun, and I had a real breakthrough with one of my clients, too. You?”

“I’m good! Hey, do you think this counts as Remy and my anniversary? I mean, I know we haven’t actually really met, yet, but it’s been a year since we first spoke, and we are soulmates. Does that count? Would it be weird to count it?”

Emile hummed. “I think that if you want it to count, it counts.”

“That’s a bit vague,” Patton sighed.

Emile laughed. “That’s just how it works, I’m afraid. How is Remy anyway? It’s his birthday tomorrow, right?”

Patton perked up at the opportunity to talk about his soulmate. “Remy’s great! He got a new job at the Starbucks near his house; he’s pretty excited about it. And yup, it’s his birthday tomorrow! He turns eighteen. It’s a funny coincidence, isn’t it? That our birthdays are so close?”

“It’s actually a lot more common for soulmates to have these similarities than you’d think,” Emile said. “Close birthdays, close locations, things like that. I mean, Virgil and I were both born in the same hospital.”

“Really? Oh, that’s cool!” Patton smiled.

He sat down on his bed, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged, and moving so his back was against the wall, half-sitting on one of his pillows.

“Yup! I’ve researched a lot about these things,” Emile said. “And- oh, Virgil, there you are!”

Patton heard rustling on the other end of the line, like Emile was temporarily putting his phone down, probably to greet and kiss his husband. He waited patiently, humming a song from the Steven Universe movie and drumming his fingers against his leg. His eyes scanned the various words written across his arms. Shiny black and glittery light blue. There were doodles, too – lines connecting the dots of his freckles, done by himself, and little stars and moons and hearts by Remy.

Then the rustling resumed, more movement, and Patton stopped humming.

“Morning, Pat,” Virgil greeted.

Patton smiled. “Virgil! How’s work going?”

“Not bad. I helped a guy arrange a hate-bouquet for his ex-boyfriend yesterday, so that was fun.”

“Sounds interesting!”

Virgil hummed in agreement, and it sounded like he was nodding. “I’m gonna hand the phone back to Emile, now. Happy birthday, kid.”

“Thanks!”

There was another moment of rustling, and then Emile returned.

“Okay, Virgil and I have to get to work,” Emile said. “We’re stopping by later for dinner, dad already knows. And, before you ask, no I will not tell you what your gift is, you’re gonna have to wait and see.”

Patton pouted. “Aww, okay. Bye!”

“Bye!”

Patton hung up the phone, before switching over to the texting app, and opening up his conversation with Remy.

PATTON

Hey im running out of space

So im gonna clean my arm

Can you too?

Remy responded almost immediately, as he usually did.

REMY

sure

one sec

Patton smiled, getting up and pocketing his phone. He headed over to the bathroom, quickly scrubbing away the words on his arms (he could leave the ones still remaining on his legs and torso, for now), and watching as Remy’s words disappeared at about the same time.

He then returned to his bedroom, sitting back down on his bed and fetching and uncapping his favourite pen.

The moment the tip of his pen touched his skin, a small black dot appeared just below it, like Remy was doing the exact same on his side – unintentionally trying to write in unison. All of a sudden, a wave of peace and happiness washed over Patton, but the emotions didn’t come from within himself. No, they came from an outside source, from somewhere else. Not from him.

From Remy.

At first, Patton was confused, disoriented, and then his heart skipped a beat, and he lifted his pen from his wrist.

The feeling stopped.

He then returned the pen to his wrist, creating another dot of light blue ink. For a moment, nothing happened, the feeling didn’t return, but then a small black speck appeared just beside his.

This time, the happiness was joined by an almost cautious excitement, tinged with something else.

What was it?

Love?

Love.

It felt like Patton was loving himself, except the love came from elsewhere, it came from Remy. Like a warm, comfortable blanket of love, wrapping around him and keeping him safe.

Patton beamed, wide and toothy and delighted, leaning back against the pillows and practically wiggling with excitement, careful to keep his pen tip on his wrist. A similar, thrilled feeling came back at him, and Patton quickly realised that whatever feelings he was getting from Remy, Remy was probably getting some very similar feelings in return from him.

damn babe

either something v weird is happening to me or thats ur feelings im feeling

I can feel it too!!!

Oh my gosh!

good i was worried i might be drunk

Have you been drinking?

nah thats why i was worried lmao

would be v weird to be drunk with no booze

Well that sure would be unusual!

The feelings from Remy weren’t constant, they only surfaced when both Patton and Remy were writing at once – flashes of emotions that were practically addicting. He wanted to keep feeling those feelings forever.

this is v weird

on and off

think itll get more constant the more we talk?

like we wont need to be both writing at the same time to feel it or smth?

Yeah!

I think so

Thats what happened with Em and Virge at least

cool

cant wait

There was a brief pause, and then Remy’s writing resumed.

can we doodle?

might make the empathy connection thingy better

Sure!

Patton giggled, unable to help himself, before pressing the tip of his pen to one of his freckles and drawing a thin line from it to another. Then another and another and another. Over and around the written words. He wasn’t making any specific shape or pattern in particular, just connecting the numerous dots. As he did this, Patton felt new shapes and doodles appearing on his legs, though he couldn’t see them through his trousers. Hearts and stars and moons and pawprints, most likely. The last one was new – Patton’s favourite.

He could feel Remy’s peace and contentment and love (love, love), like it was flowing through the air and seeping through his skin, filling him with happiness. Sometimes, it even increased for a brief moment, usually just after Patton’s happiness bubbled over into delighted giggles. It was a cycle – happiness creating happiness creating happiness.

Patton loved Remy. Remy loved Patton.

Love. Love. Love.

***

“Hey, Remy!”

Remy glanced up from his phone, straightening up as noticed and watched his best friend, Toby, approaching him. His foot tapped impatiently against the pavement, and his sunglasses were on to shield his eyes from bright midday sun.

“Gurl, what was taking you so long?” Remy complained, stuffing his phone into his pocket and crossing his arms, practically pouting. “I’ve been waiting here for, like, hours.”

Toby gave him a dry look. “I’m ten minutes late.”

“And that’s, like, ten hours in gay-and-in-a-hurry time.”

“In a hurry? What the hell are we even doing? Your text was very vague.”

“Well, it’s my dad’s birthday in a-”

“Which one?”

“Thomas. Bitch, stop interrupting me.”

Toby laughed, and Remy glared at him. He held his hands up defensively in mock surrender, and then gestured for Remy to continue.

“Anyway, it’s my dad’s birthday on Sunday and I’m supposed to get him a gift. I dunno what, though, so you’re gonna help me.”

“I’m pretty sure you know him better than I do.”

Remy shushed him. “Gurl, I am not letting you get out of helping me. So, we’re going to-”

He suddenly froze, going silent. Remy’s brow then creased, too, and after a moment of stillness he began to rapidly pat his arms and legs, like he was looking for something, though he didn’t seem to find it. Toby gave him a bewildered look.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

“I can feel Patton’s emotions,” Remy said.

He could, but only barely – just little hints of Patton, pricking the edges of his soul – much less than he was used to, but still impossible to ignore. He was used to these feelings by now, always recognising them immediately, though this time it was... different.

“Okay... so, he’s writing to you? Isn’t that normal?”

Remy looked back at him, looking just as confused as Toby. “No, he isn’t. He isn’t writing to me. No ink.”

“He... isn’t?”

“I can always feel it,” Remy explained. “Always. But not right now. Why... why-” He froze, his eyes widening behind his dark sunglasses.  

“What?”

“He must be close. He must- oh my god, he must be close!” Remy looked around quickly, at all of the surrounding pedestrians. None of them looked right – none of them were Patton – but he could practically sense him. He was so close.

Toby blinked. “Really?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes. Yes, really. I know what I’m talking about!” Remy exclaimed, perhaps a little harsher than intended. “The empath shit only happens when you write or when you’re close. Gurl, that’s, like, common knowledge.”

Toby held his hands up. “Right, uh... sorry.” He cleared his throat. “So, how are we gonna find him?”

Remy’s brow scrunched up in thought. “I don’t know.”

His best friend shrugged, even more lost than he was.

“Maybe... maybe...” Remy continued, trailing off, before he suddenly straightened up. “It’ll get stronger the closer I get to him, so I just have to follow where it’s stronger, right? Like... like getting warmer and colder.”

Toby nodded slowly. “That makes sense. So, uh, walk around, and we’ll go in the direction that makes it stronger.”

Remy immediately began to pace in circles around Toby, pulling a slightly panicked face when at one point the feeling completely disappeared. Then, it got stronger, a wave of anticipation and curiosity, nervousness and excitement.

It suddenly hit Remy that if he could feel Patton, then Patton could feel him, too.

Patton was probably looking for him.

The corners of Remy’s lips twitched up into a smile. He was practically oozing excitement, and it was contagious, as Patton’s also seemed to increase – even Toby began smiling, too.

Toby patted him on the shoulder.

“Go on, follow your gut. I’ll be right behind you.”

Remy immediately turned on his heel, sprinting in the direction the emotions seemed to be coming from, and Toby almost tripped over his own feet following him. The empathy got stronger and stronger and stronger with every step, until it was even stronger than it usually was, and as his excitement further increased, so did Patton’s.

He rounded a corner, and immediately ran right into someone running at a similar speed, and they both tumbled to the ground with two loud thumps.

“Ah, fuck,” Remy groaned, closing his eyes and massaging the bridge of his nose as a jolt of pain shot down his leg.

“Oof,” The other boy winced.

His voice was like a bell, ringing through the air: suddenly the only sound that Remy could hear.

That was when Remy realised that Patton’s emotions were now equal to his own – mixing together in Remy’s soul until they were one and the same. It was almost like they were thinking and feeling as one, which was rather disorienting, to say the least.  

Patton... Patton was right in front of him.

Remy opened his eyes, immediately coming face-to-face with the most gorgeous person he had even seen – a wide-eyed and freckled boy, about a year younger than Remy, staring back at him with parted lips and an equally startled expression. He was wearing a blue and grey t-shirt, showing off his arms and the words Remy had written to him today, and all the constellations he’d doodled on his own skin. Now, Remy could see the stars that he’d been missing, and, in his opinion, they were even better than the ones in the night sky.

Patton.

Patton, Patton, Patton.

“Patton,” Remy breathed.

“Remy.”

Remy laughed, uncontrolled and loud and delighted, sitting up straight and taking Patton’s hand in his own, squeezing it. It was warm and soft, Remy never wanted to let go, and when Patton squeezed back, he felt... complete. Perfect. Heaven.

Patton smiled – like a shining sun, one that thankfully didn’t hurt to look at, as Remy couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

“Wow,” Remy laughed. “You’re... wow.”

“Wow,” Patton echoed.

People were probably staring at them – Toby included – but Remy couldn’t take his eyes off of Patton to check. Patton seemed to be doing similarly, his eyes slowly taking in every part of Remy’s body, before returning to his face, staring into his eyes.

Patton’s eyes were brown, like honey in the sunlight. Beautiful.

“It’s... it’s nice to finally meet you,” Patton said softly.

“Likewise.”

There was a beat.

“You are gorgeous,” Remy continued, the words coming out before he could stop himself. He almost regretted blurting it out, but then Patton’s face turned a particularly pretty shade of pink, and Remy immediately grinned.

Patton squeezed his hand. “You, too.”

“Oh, I know I’m hot, babe,” Remy said, making Patton giggle. “But you, you’re... you’re an angel. Like, damn, how the hell did I get so lucky? I must’ve done something really freaking amazing in a past life to have deserved you.”

“You’re even more of a flirt in person,” Patton smiled, a little teasingly.

Remy laughed. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I warned you.”

“You did,” Patton said, smiling fondly.

“Is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?” Remy asked suddenly. His tone of voice was casual, like he was joking, but they both knew – Patton could probably sense – that he was serious.

Patton didn’t hesitate, answering quickly. “No. I mean, yes. I mean... no, it’s not too soon. Please?”

Remy didn’t waste any time, reaching forward, carefully cradling Patton’s face in his hand and kissing him gently. His lips were soft and warm and Remy never wanted to stop kissing him. Patton covered Remy’s hand with his own free one, kissing back a little clumsily, though it was without a doubt enthusiastic.

Then, he got a little too enthusiastic, and Remy tumbled backwards, pulling Patton along with him.

They broke apart, and after a moment of startled – slightly awkward – silence, they both started laughing loudly, and Patton climbed off of him. He finally stood up, holding out his hand and helping Remy up, too.

The pedestrians that had been watching them had mostly all moved on by now, leaving only Toby hovering awkwardly nearby. He had his phone out, trying to distract himself, give them some privacy, though he was undeniably still keeping an eye out. It wasn’t every day you saw a soulmate pair’s first meeting.  

Remy took Patton’s hands in his own, looking him over again and again and again.

An idea came to him – not a new one, one he’d thought about and talked about and dreamed and daydreamed about a million times – and he grinned in a way that he could feel made Patton’s heart skip a beat.

“Remember how I said I wanted to kiss every freckle?"

[tintinwrites]

Pedro Characters With Babies but it’s Accurate (I’m kidding) and I’m an Asshole to the Characters

Love Pedro, love all the fics for his characters on here, this is for fun.

Agent Whiskey

he loves kids and I don’t want to dive into that anymore thank you very much we don’t discuss That plot

literally will baby talk to any little being and ask to hold it

they’re weirdly quiet with him like they’re so calm and they love to stare at his face

“Well, ain’t you as pretty as a magnolia on a June day swaying in that ole Southern breeze?”

he doesn’t say it out loud but those little fingers and toes?????

kissing all twenty of them tbh

there is absolutely no reason as to why he’s crying when he holds them haha it’s fine

8/10 for letting him near a baby he’s kind of evil and a little chaotic but he’s okay with them

Dave York

I know he has kids but I refuse to believe he was there when they were babies

holds them for photos then immediately hands them to the nearest person

changing diapers? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHA

“Why is it crying?”

has never loved anything in his life

hands the baby a newspaper for entertainment

he probably offers it a slice of pot roast when told it needs fed tbh

0/10 for letting him near a baby he thinks they should act like they’re 42 and working in a job they hate with a family who doesn’t appreciate all the things they do

Din Djarin

we’ve already seen him with a baby but ya know

he is immediately attached to it and will kill anyone who dares to even look at it funny

tries to breastfeed it

“You’re so...small.”

leaves it on a table to go do something

“WHAT THE FUCK MANDO YOU CAN’T LEAVE A BABY ALONE ON A TABLE THEY ROLL.”

the father whether it’s his kid or not

9/10 for letting him near a baby he will love it with all of himself but he might leave it somewhere he shouldn’t

Ezra

he pretends to be pretty indifferent to the idea of tiny human beings

he’s not what one might think to be very nurturing bc he’s simply not used to them

bounces a fussing baby for a whole ten seconds then hands it off to somebody else if there is someone else

“I must declare that while you may be infantile with a certain fondness for dramatics, your nose is quite like a button.”

usually whispers these little compliments to it so no one knows that he kind of likes the little baby

he let’s them play with the blond bit of his hair bc he’s heard that babies can see contrasts

no Ezra you cannot take the baby prospecting with you

6/10 for letting him near a baby he’s like okay but also mmmmmm not the loving type

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales

humans come that tiny?!

he is deeply afraid of dropping the baby and it takes some convincing for him to hold it

kind of tears up when he finally does let you put the baby in his arms

“Hi, baby. I’m Frankie.”

if it’s his kid then he’s a pretty doting father tbh

freaks out a little when it starts crying but he learns what the cries mean eventually

he doesn’t sing but sometimes he can be found bouncing the baby and singing some rock song to it

8/10 for letting him near a baby he’s good with them but a little bit cautious

Javier Peña

he’s seen a baby or two in his time

he’s never really needed to hold one or take care of one to be honest

he doesn’t dislike babies but also he doesn’t really understand them or know how to communicate

“Have you seen the news lately?”

doesn’t know how to hold it if someone hands him a baby

he’s guessing that he’s not supposed to hold it by its legs

they’re kind of cute but he’s scared he’ll ruin it just by being near it for too long

3/10 for letting him near a baby bc he’s nice but he doesn’t know anything

Marcus Pike

he loves kids and babies and they love him too!

let’s pretend this is his kid okay oh my gosh if you’re going to have a baby he’s the only person you should have one with that’s it

cries the moment that baby is put in his fucking arms

“Look at you. You’re so perfect.”

absolutely perfect dad who changes all the diapers and jumps out of bed to grab the baby when it’s fussing and only brings it to you if you’re breastfeeding and it needs fed

stay at home dad?

watches you and the baby with the starriest eyes imaginable

4,000/10 for letting him near a baby bc he wants to give you a life and a home and a FAMILY IF YOU WANT IT

Maxwell Lord

apparently he has a son but let’s be honest with this bitch

he does not like babies

he does not like children

“What breed of dog is this?”

holds it like it’s a bundle of TNT

audibly keysmashes any time a baby nearly touches his suit or hair

literally who the fuck handed him a baby

-300/10 for letting him near a baby please do not let him near a baby?

Max Phillips

do vampires eat babies

man I hope not

he does not want a baby near him tbh and when someone hands one to him he’s just

“Oh. No thanks.”

if the baby cries, he mockingly cries back at it

unless he’s trying to sell something in which case OH HE LOVES BABIES HE IS THE BABY MAN LOOK AT HIM WITH THIS BABY THAT HE MOST DEFINITELY DOES NOT WANT TO SET ON THE FLOOR AND WALK AWAY FROM

yes he will use a baby to sell things if he must and then as soon as important people aren’t looking hand it to someone else

-33/10 for letting him near a baby like I don’t think he’d do anything bad but he’s still a vampire and doesn’t like them?

Oberyn Martell

he has a lot of daughters and i think he likes babies or maybe making them

will come in and hold the baby once it’s born assuming births in GoT are privately away from men?

literally only makes girls tho i think i dont really know?

“Hello, sweet girl.”

i’m not really sure he takes care of the babies but he holds them

and like that’s pretty good this show is fucked up

he’s probably the only good character and I assume he treats babies nice

6/10 for letting him near a baby like he thinks they’re neat

Pero Tovar

a baby fits in one hand

he’s pretty typical when it comes to them

he’s a loving father and he cares very much for them but the mother does most of the care

“Go see your mother.”

he’s pretty proud even if he makes only daughters tbh

would kill for them

probably already has killed for them

4/10 for letting him near a baby he’s your typical 1100′s dad

[muwur]

could i request an -oikawa-kuroo-suga- headcanons for a partner with autism/adhd? (autism and adhd in girls can be like, real hard to write if you dont have it or know someone who does so its 100% okay to say no wididnejfufhejrr) especially with like, being embarrassed about stimming in front of them or dealing with rejection sensitive dysphoria as a symptom 😗👉👈 thank yooooooooooou i owe u my liyef

haikyuu + s/o with autism/adhd headcanons

✧ hc’s ✧ for oikawa, kuroo, suga & tendou

❧ gn reader

✎ 1.3k words

a/n: i got u b! this is wut im here for, to help u feel a lil represented 😌 also ik u a special fren of mine so hehe here u go (happy birthday soon btw c; ily i hope you enjoy pls feel free to lmk if there’s smth youd like me to change ♡)! aLsO pLEASePLEAseplEASe anyone let me know if there is something I wrote in this that doesn’t sit well with you. as someone who does not have autism/adhd or has had much experience around people who do, i cannot portray it accurately. i do not intend to misrepresent anyone’s experiences. i love and care for you all; the last thing i want to do is hurt or offend anyone. thankfully anon + the internet were great sources for me to try to understand things better. tho that is not to say i can fully comprehend these conditions (cuz i never can unless i experience it myself)

n e ways, u r all loveli n i hope ur having an amazing day <3

just wanna preface that these bois would love anyone for who they are, and would do their best to support you in whatever ways possible <3

oikawa

✧ oikawa had been replying consistently to your messages before suddenly disappearing with no explanation,,,

✧ at first it seemed like nothing, but after several hours and follow up texts from yourself, you couldn’t help but think that maybe he just didn’t want to reply to you

✧ maybe he didn’t even like you anymore

✧ fear that every moment you shared together meant nothing settled in the pit of your stomach

✧ a while later you received a phone call from a very apologetic oikawa, who was explaining that he dropped his phone in the bowl of ramen he was eating and had to go to the store and wait for hours before finally getting a new one and--

✧ “a-are you crying? hey, what’s wrong? i’m sorry i was gone for so long. i’m here now.”

✧ will definitely come over immediately to give you reassuring cuddles

✧ “you mean the world to me. i never want to hurt you, and i never want to leave you, either.”

✧ makes sure to communicate very clearly with you to reassure you what he really means

✧ always reminding you how much he cares about you to reinforce in your head that he’s always going to be there for you

✧ does self-care days with you to destress because life is tough (*cue selfies with face masks and laying in bed for hours with each other’s comforting presence*)

✧ very quick to defend and protect you from people who hurt you. will ask, “excuse me, can i help you?” with a piercing glare that’ll get anyone to back down

✧ gives you constant reassurance about your stimming

✧ helps you interpret social cues and situations, gives you tips on how to handle your interactions with others and in under circumstances (as well as how to remain calm in your own mind)

✧ practices positive self-talk with you because he wants to help you see how great you are

✧ anyone who doesn’t see it is at a loss and is irrelevant, they don’t exist in oikawa’s book 💅

kuroo

✧ always educating himself so he knows how to be helpful

✧ unintentionally embarrassed you once by asking what you were doing when he caught you stimming once (which was when he found out about it)

✧ he was genuinely curious and meant no harm, and he apologized for bringing it up how he did

✧ however, he was glad he asked you so that he could be informed and reassure you that stimming is okay. he understands the importance of it and he’d prefer you have something to help you self-soothe. no judgment here, this is a safe space

✧ takes mental notes on all your favorite stims (verbal, visual, tactile, oral, proprioception, etc)

✧ even discovers new stims for you to try and buys you things to help with them (“here, this is a fidget spinner, y/n” or “you know they make CHEWABLE JEWLERY? they call it CHEWELRY. that’s genius. *typing on phone* what colors do you like, babe?” )

✧ encourages you to talk about your feelings and find additional coping strategies (“let’s try this neat breathing technique i learned about today!”)

✧ saves you from overwhelming situations (ie. pulling you out of a crowd, shutting down really noisy things, giving you space to clear your head and breathe)

✧ ruffles your hair as a sign of affection and calls you cute nicknames

✧ helps you study, make plans, and stay organized. tries to keep things interesting and interactive so you don’t lose interest/find it boring

✧ when you’re having an especially hard time focusing, he’ll pull you aside for a relaxing break like talking a small walk, watching an episode of y’alls favorite show, sharing a snack, playing a game, looking at memes or tik tok, chatting, etc

✧ makes sure to validate your feelings first and acknowledge your concerns before giving you his thoughts

✧ helps you view situations from a different perspective so you don’t assume rejection from others. when there is some form of rejection, he’s there to help you cope with the emotions 

✧ gives you a lot of hugs when you’re feeling dejected and lonely, reminding you he’ll never leave your side 

sugawara

✧ he’s quite perceptive, so when he noticed your unease, he asked you about it

✧ embarrassed but not wanting to lie, especially to suga, you admitted to being afraid of stimming around him and that you had been trying to hold back from it (even if it was hard)

✧ his eyes immediately soften as he tells you that there’s no reason to be embarrassed about it

✧ he just wants you to be yourself and feel comfortable

✧ learns about all of your stims. totally supports and normalizes them (however, if they’re ever self-injurous, he’ll do research and consult expert help to redirect the behavior)

✧ will absolutely take good care of you, he’s not sugamama for no reason

✧ a great listener! always hearing you out when you talk about your passions and interests

✧ wants you to express yourself however you can because he understands communication may not always be easy (reminder that communication and expression aren’t always verbal!)

✧ praises you and hypes you up all the time, going on about how there’s so much about you he loves

✧ has the most soothing voice ever. will whisper you sweet, reassuring words to calm and ease your mind

✧ will even just hum for you. lit rally anything. the suga juke box varies from lullabies to funky fresh songs

✧ very patient and will support you when you feel upset, frustrated, and/or have outbursts

✧ encourages you to talk about your feelings, but never pressures you. shares his own thoughts and feelings to help you open up, asks you thoughtful questions

✧ may be ultimate soft boi but gives anyone the look™ if they even just stare, and goes feral if someone’s ever rude to you in any way, calls them tf out and is #satisfied when he gets them to apologize

✧ also helps you study and be organized! good at creating schedules and encouraging you to stick with them

✧ constantly making sure you eat sufficient meals 😋 and get enough rest 😴 will nag you until you do

tendou

✧ MORE THAN HAPPY TO PROVIDE ALL THE STIMULATION YOU NEED, says it’s an opportunity to give each other mutual attention and bond

✧ but will also provide you an outlet for just relaxing and unwinding

✧ will talk to you for hours and hours about your favorite shows/movies/books

✧ BINGES THEM WITH YOU

✧ always treating you to your favorite snacks/flavors and discovering new things for you to try that will match your taste/texture preferences (only the best for u 😌)

✧ curious about how stims make you feel and asks you to describe those sensations to him  

✧ thinks it’s super cool when you can finish his sentences for him,,, cuz it’s like y’all on the same wavelength (you gellll)

✧ if anyone made you feel bad,,, o boy

✧ tendou would intimidate them to the point he would probably appear in their nightmares ffegjegk this is why you don’t fuck with this man or those who cares about 

✧ king of spontaneity and asks if you’re down to do the most random things

✧ “let’s buy a trampoline”

✧ *2 am* “you down for some fries and dip? and by dip i mean m i l k s h a k e s”

✧ of course he’ll never suggest things he knows you would be uncomfortable with. never puts you in a stressful situation and always makes sure you’re enjoying yourself

✧ invites you everywhere and makes sure you feel included. always by your side!

✧ squeezes your hand whenever he can tell you’re feeling anxious

✧ if you feel anxious about trying new things, he’s there to encourage you! recounts all the positive aspects 

✧ but if you’re really excited to try something, you bet he’ll match your excitement

✧ a very good listener. empathizes a lot with being misunderstood or seen as “different,” and is therefore a major source of comfort

✧ constantly showing you how to be yourself and that you shouldn’t feel ashamed about it, cuz that’s who he fell in love with