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ponkwan · 2 years

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⌗ ⸰ ₊⠀SVT HEADCANONS ! (01)

how seventeen acts when you’re still upset after a fight.

p.s. this is a repost from another previous blog of mine !

✩ SEUNGCHEOL.

the type to whine and apologize again and again until you give him a response that eases his worries away. he would probably have that permanent sulky expression on his face too until you act like you’re less infuriated with him, actually willing to hear his side with a clearer mindset, which he would then take as the opportunity of talking it through with you once more so that he’ll be sure that there would be 100% no harsh or ill feelings left between the both of you afterwards.

✩ JEONGHAN.

the type to test the waters first before making the first move in apologizing. he’d start by seeing if you would stay unbothered if he decided to be in the same room as you, would advance to going to a spot that would allow him to be nearer to where you are, and would finally break the suffocating silence by perhaps asking a normal question like “what would you like to eat later?” or prompting a conversation that he knows you’ll be interested in. if you still wouldn’t budge, that’s when he’ll address the fight you had again and will mention his intentions of making up with you before the situation becomes bad.

✩ JOSHUA.

the type who wants to patch things up with you as soon as possible. if you told him a little lie and said that you weren’t upset with him anymore despite still being so, he would sense it right away and would insist on asking you more about what exactly was continuing to bother you, adding that he doesn’t like the tension still surrounding you both when the misunderstanding was already supposedly resolved. once you express more of what you feel, he would listen attentively and share what he thought of as well in the softest manner he can.

✩ JUNHUI.

the type to stay put with you in the very spot you just argued and supposedly ‘resolved’ the problem. as the air is evidently still thick, he refuses to leave just yet until he’s sure that you two are definitely okay; similarly, he will obviously try to pull you back if ever you try to do the first move of leaving, asking where you’re planning on going and why are you leaving without him. whatever answer you decide to utter, he gently cuts you off and urges you to sit back down with him so that you can talk it out one more time for clarity and get what’s bothering you still out of your chest.

✩ SOONYOUNG.

the type to shower you with affection and act as normal as he could (while also being extra loving) so you’ll feel comfortable with him again. he’ll observe if you look and act more like yourself as time passes, and if he notices that you’re still a bit detached with him, he might hit you up with sweet words like “what should i do, jagi?”, “what’s my jagi thinking about?”, his tone sweet and urging so that you can open up with him more and he’ll know what can be done to have the both of you in better terms again.

✩ WONWOO.

the type to test the waters first as well, but in a way that you wouldn’t really feel that he knows there’s still something not right about the two of you even after you got over the argument. like an occurrence that one of the members mentioned in the past, he’ll probably send you a message instead, asking if you both were good or are you still upset—or maybe will resort to asking you that question last minute too, like when you’re hugging farewell after the long day, he’ll utter those words and wait for your reply with his arms tightening around you.

✩ JIHOON.

the type to act oblivious at first even though he can pretty much feel that you’re still upset with the argument. despite that, he will subtly try to make up for it instead of confronting it, initiating conversations that will hopefully lift your mood up or offering to do something that he also knows you’ll absolutely like. if things still feel awkward between the both of you then, he might not directly talk to you about it still but will go through bigger lengths to eventually have you be the one feel good enough to talk it through with him better next time.

✩ SEOKMIN.

the type who’ll probably try and make it up to you by acting cute or extra loving until you’ll crack a smile, no matter how small that said smile may be. he’d be a bit touchy and silly too, evidently desperate to have things flowing smoothly again after the heated argument; needless to say, once he notices that the tensed air seemed to have faded away, he might go and say sorry again just for an extra measure, gently reiterating his apologies and assuring you that he didn’t mean to act rashly.

✩ MINGYU.

the type to make his concern apparent just by the way he looks at you and the way he’s subtly telling you with his eyes that he knows there’s still something wrong despite your insistence that you’re fine. he might purposely whine and act cute just to encourage an answer out of you if you continue to be stubborn; nonetheless, when you either get tired of pretending or comfortable to talk it out again, he’ll express his happiness and appreciation immediately, saying that he’s all ears to whatever you want to say.

✩ MINGHAO.

the type to seem indifferent because of his similar initial quietness but will quickly pull himself together and try to ask you if there was something wrong still. if you refuse to give in just yet, he’ll explain the importance of telling him what was bothering you so that the both of you can fix it, promising that he’ll be listening intently and that he’ll try to be as understanding as he could in order to know your feelings. he might be the type too to keep a hand over yours or a hand on your knee while you talk, rubbing his thumb against it softly and nodding every now and then as acknowledgments to your worries.

✩ SEUNGKWAN.

the type who’ll first let his emotions wash over him and be a little annoyed at you too. though after calming down himself and realizing that he shouldn’t act in such a way, he comes back to you and apologizes for what he did again, with more sincerity this time and with more determination to patch things up so that you’ll be more comfortable in telling him what continued to bother your mind. when you successfully do the latter, he’ll be significantly more engaging and understanding, exchanging thoughts with you before finally being assured that the both of you are okay.

✩ VERNON.

the type to try and give the both of you some space to think first. he might let you leave the room where the fight ensued if you want to, will wait for a few minutes for you to cool down and for him to think what his next course of action will be, and when he deems the time is right, he’ll slowly go over to where you are and situate himself close to you, glancing at you with no words being spoken for starters but soon enough, he’ll do his best in attempting to talk it out with you once more to truly make up.

✩ CHAN.

the type to notice and be upfront that he knows you’re upset with him still after the heated argument almost immediately. he might sigh in frustration because of what happened, before he calmly reiterates his thoughts and asks you if you’re sure that you’re fine like you claim to be. if you tell him that you’re actually not because of being asked, he’ll nod and ask you again whether you’ll want to talk about it or would you want some space first to think. whatever your answer may be, he still chooses to stay nearby, wanting to make you feel still that he was just there to listen once you’re ready.

thank you for reading ! feedback is always appreciated ☻

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prentissluvr · 10 days

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i dont have all of my sam thots and dean thoughts just yet but I had to send in this bc I completely forgot about meg! sam

and its a damn shame that we didn't see more of that bc it solidified my stance on being a sam girlie

we got at least 3 episodes of demon dean (i have not seen him yet i've only heard about it) but we got like less than half an hour with meg! sam and honestly we deserved more with him

meg! sam made me feel lots of things LOLL

(i wanted to be jo SO BAD in that episode LMAO)

now i need your thots on him please :p

KJDFSJL NO BECAUSE... NOOO I CANT thinking about the amount of meg!sam edits i've seen in the past few days. thinking about the one saved in my camera roll. thinking about throwing up pissing my pants projectile vomiting and passing the fuck out. i reiterate tho, i'm normal!! i'm so so so normal and i don't feel things about it!!!!!!!

i'm honestly still like borderline unsure about how nsfw i want to get on this blog, but uhhh i'm just gonna start typing and see where my dirty fucking mind takes me!

cw : highly suggestive!! no smut, but still absolutely no minors!! MDNI!! contains condescending/mean/possessed sam, but also sweet sam too <33. use of gendered terms, but it is gender inclusive to fem, masc, and gn as much as i could make it! horrible writing it's genuinely just me going feral :))

sooo basically for me the worst (best) part of meg!sam was his voice! it's so bad (never have i ever heard anything hotter in my life). IDK I DONT EVEN THINK I CAN FORM A COHERENT THOUGHT OVER THIS NOT GONNA LIE. uhm uhhh ummmm uhhhh uhmmmm.

so basically so basically, essentially, wwowowowowowowowifjhshf alright lets focus on one thing at a time.

we'll start with that goddamn voice of his. the way it goes from teasing, condescending to deeper, more gravelly and matter-of-fact and then back to condescending LIKE WHOO IM GONNA NEED TO TAKE A LAP. idk just thinking about his large hand on the back of your head, maybe tangled in your hair if the way you wear it allows for that, and his veiny forearm visible through your peripheral vision as he says "open up.. that's a girl" like he did to jo😭😭😭 (or he's says "thaaat's it" to keep things gender neutral, dragging out the "that's" for an extra second, that extra gravel in his condescending tone).

and while this is in possessed!sam context, he'd definitely say things like that normally, i do personally envision him to be less condescending and more sincere. either way, hot as fuck if you ask me. also this isn't meg!sam, but in season seven he says "good girl" and i do listen to that clip several times a day, i am so serious when i say that and i have no shame about it!! i have daddy issues so i do not care!!! so yeah he also says good girl/boy/whatever variation you enjoy best <3 uhmmm yeah but the main point is his hot as fuck voice, right next to your ear with his breath tickling you sensitive skin. especially with that whisper. oh god the whisper😭 and along with "that's a girl," there's atta girl and he'd use that one too so i'll go die in a hole :))) but yeah he genuinely thinks you're so good for him so expect that praise, whether you want it sweet or mean.

then we also have his facial expressions!! the smirk he uses to rile you up or that he flashes you, all mean and haughty because he knows he's getting to you. the fake pity too!! lord help me, once again the utterly fake pity just falls under that condescending persona that was so hot about meg!sam. i'm just gonna use photo evidence and you can imagine him looking at you like that!! enjoy!

last thing i have to say about meg!sam is manhandling!! ahahaahahahaahahah i'm normal and okay!! (this is a cry for help i need him so bad). um yeah while i hate the context of the manhandling of jo in the episode because it's crossing so many boundaries, i will still enjoy the fact that he is hot. so yeah! have fun thinking about sam whirling you around and pinning you between his chest and nearest surface, hand on your forehead to tilt your chin up and give him full access to the skin of your neck. his other hand is pinning your wrist to whatever surface is behind you, and your own free hand is tangled in his hair and he lays wet, desperate kisses all over your neck and collarbone. that's all hahahahaha :)))) feeling so sane right now!!

#spn sam winchester #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester supernatural #sam winchester suggestive #supernatural headcanon #sam winchester headcanon #supernatural suggestive #sam winchester smut #supernatural smut #. >> mooties ౨ৎ !#. >> daisy ౨ৎ !

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dulcewrites · 1 year

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One Step Forward, Two Steps Back (modern au)

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x reader (wc: 3.6k)

Summary: Sometimes Aegon is sure that the Gods like playing tricks on him. Your reintroduction into his life only proves that further

A/N: the time has come for my Aegon work!! I’m so excited because this also my first time doing an modern au. I explained the idea more here. This will include all the hotd hits: mommy issues, daddy issues, the Targs being an all around messy family. This is my contribution to the tgc Aegon universe 🫡. Slight house keeping: Aemond has both of his eyes in this universe but the sight in one eye is diminishing/has been diminished over the years. Also there are certain elements I will be taking from hotd/asoiaf and the Faith of the Seven is one.

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You had always assumed that therapist offices would be sterile and cold. Or at the very least, annoyingly put together.

Cregan Stark’s office is nothing of the sort.

From deep red floors to the walls of antic books and shelves filled of knickknacks. The office is not what you expected to it be. It only makes you more anxious for this whole ordeal. The only indication of his credentials as a professional being the certificate from the University of Cambridge hanging on the wall. Even the laidback nature of him made you pause. Call me Cregan. Mr. Stark was my father.

Long brown hair pulled back, dark beard, stormy grey eyes, topped off with a flowy button-down shirt. He looks better suited chopping down wood somewhere than helping university students. Everyone seemed weary of the new addition to the dance department.

Your eyes flutter to the clock behind him then back to his warm eyes.

“I am sure you are wondering why I wanted to speak with you,” his voice is soft. There is an element of mirth that has you raising a brow.

You shrug in response. “Taking inventory of the inmates, I assume.”

The joke does seem not seem to land the way you thought it would. He gives you a incredulous look before shaking his head. Your mother always told you that your inability to keep to certain thoughts in your head would get you in trouble sooner or later.

“My new position here is to help the dancers, especially ones transitioning out of school, handle this year,” he begins. “A sounding board if you will. Listen to any problems. Assist with finding resources and opportunities beyond this point.”

You nod slowly, still not understanding why this meeting is cutting into your warmup time. Instinctively, you point then flex your foot in your fuzzy black boot. Your eyes go back to the clock. Gods, Aemond is going to tear into you if this does not wrap up soon.

“Most of the notes were positive,” he replies quickly, reading the furrow in your brow. “Bright, hard-working, and diligent were just a few things said.”

You let a breath you were holding in. Of course, that was what was said. You have dedicated your life to this; you expect nothing less than comments like that. They are sentiments you should not think but you know you are one of the most talented dancers in the program.

But then your mind drifts to something.

“Most?”

He gives you a pained smile. “There were a couple of comments that expressed concern about your… intensity and your health.”

You blink blankly at him.

“I don’t think I am any more intense than any other student here. We are all very serious about our art.”

Cregan nods. “I was informed about an incident that happened in your second term here. Something quite awful.”

Your blood runs cold, and you sniff stiffly in response. Please don’t you think.

“I am sorry for your loss.”

You try to keep your eye from twitching. There was a time in your life where all you wanted was someone to tell you that. To let you know that they feel bad for the situation you found yourself wallowing in… for the situation Marina found herself in.

That time is over.

“It has been over a year and a half,” you plaster on a smile. “Thank you for that, but I am doing fine.”

It was not lie. It really wasn’t.

Cregan hums softly. “Why don’t you and I make a deal. We meet each other once a week for the rest of the term. We can talk about how you are doing, and work towards you graduating.”

You feel your patience wearing horribly thin. It is not that you have a problem with therapy or counseling. You just don’t need it nor want it.

“Look, I appreciate the concern. I just don’t have time for weekly meetings. I have auditions for companies, finishing my classes strong. Also, an end of the year project… which is not going well so far.”

Your eyes go back to clock above him. You are so fucked.

“I do not have the time,” you repeat, not even clarifying if you mean for the meetings or this conversation. “I have too much on my plate.”

Cregan smiles, easy and cool. It softens the sternness that has settled into his long face.

“That is exactly why we need to do it.”

A sinking feeling gathers in your stomach. He is not going to take no for an answer, is he?

As you leave the room, new schedule in hand, all you can think about is how much you despise Cregan Stark. Your ire extends to whatever instructor told him you needed help in the first place. The walk to the practice studios is cold and damp. Somber weather matching the way you feel.

You must take a deep breath before going into the practice room. Aemond, perched at the piano, shoots you a glare. Ignoring his eyes burning into your back, you sit on the floor to put on your pointe shoes.

“I know you have little care for my time,” his voice cut through the room. Low and condescending. “But if you want to get through this, the least you can do is show up on time.”

You do not answer immediately, eyes focused on your shoes.

“It is just common sense.”

Aemond continues to lecture you about the importance of respecting people’s time. Perhaps if you told him about your meeting, he would let it go. But then again based off the few weeks you have spent with him, you know once he gets started, it is hard to stop him. His voice fades in the background as you stare at yourself in the mirror.

In your head, you repeat the affirmations you recite every morning.

You are talented, you are grounded, you are alive.

Aegon could not help but stare at the rain as it fell and splintered on the large class windows of the meeting room.

When he was younger, he hated the rain. The endless rolling clouds and damp days made him feel like he was in a bad nightmare. But the older he got, the more he started to appreciate the rain. Utterly soothed by the tip tap of rain against something solid. He could make a melody out of it. Plus, it helped him sleep.

He rarely got good nights of sleep.

The somber weather only added to the uninspiring atmosphere in the room. Aegon tried hard to listen. He fought hard to keep his eyes from glazing over. Placing fonder thoughts in his head kept him from outwardly expressing his boredom. Today, he thought of what he should get to dinner. Something hearty… or maybe something spicy. The thoughts lead to him texting his brother.

I can drive up. Want that Thai place around the corner from yr place

It took Aemond minutes to reply, but when he did it was a simple no. His brother was always a man of few words.

I’ll pay :)

He watched as the dots appear then disappear then reappear again. Aegon smiles at his phone when Aemond eventually says yes. He gives Aegon strict instructions to stay in the car and wait on him to come out.

“Aegon, are you listening?”

Aegon’s eyes shoot up from his phone to meet one that resembles his too much for comfort. Rhaenyra is eyeing him exasperated. There was slight tension at the beginning of the meeting when he gave her a funny look after she sat in the seat their father normally does. But he had no interest in arguing with Rhaenyra, at least not today.

“Yes, I hear you,” he clears his throat, and rubs one of his eyes.

“Long night?”

The smile is there when she says it but the words are condescending. Her smile works on others, but Aegon knows what lies beneath it. Such a delight to work with, Viserys would beam. Everything was easy when her eyes softened, and the corners of her lips go lopsided in a good-natured way. Aegon knows she must that to survive in this environment. Mask all her slender and confidence with smiles. He would respect it more if she did not try to play him like she does the other men in the firm.

Like he is one of father’s mindless cronies.

They share the same blood. Which means he knows they are both predisposed to thinking they know best by nature.

“I want to talk about reconsidering the pro bono option,” ok, maybe he does want an argument. Bothering Rhaenyra sparked a unique kind of joy in Aegon.

Rhaenyra’s brows furrow. Their brains had been hardwired differently by now; her business-oriented ideals sometimes working in direct contrast with the direction he thinks the firm should go in.

“I think the idea is one we should consider,” Tyland Lannister pipes up, voice chipper and full of mirth.

Rhaenyra’s gaze turns to him, completely unimpressed. Aegon had to bite back a smile. Tyland had a habit of siding with Aegon in meetings like this. The Lannisters, a family that has dipped their foot in any lucrative business they could find, not only had a history with Targaryens, but with the Hightowers as well. Rhaenyra had expressed to their father how much it bothered her. All she received was a wave of the hand; for all the special treatment he felt Viserys gave his eldest child, Aegon can say Viserys has never been good at laying down the law within the firm.

How he managed to run the company with that attitude was beyond Aegon.

With the slight support of Tyland, a couple of the other suits in the room nodded in agreement. Rhaenyra swallows, eyes shifting back to Aegon’s. When his sister is upset, he has noticed her eyes shift to a chill blue to a tempered iris.

She looks at him with a look that Aegon could only describe as pure exhaustion. The type of exhaustion that happens when you deeply resent someone. Somewhere down the line they took a sharp turn right, and never got back on track.

The irony of the distance between them, is that it was not always like that. His first memories of life are not with his mother, father, or even with the siblings he grew up in the same household with; they are with Rhaenyra. He has fuzzy recollections of teenage her blowing raspberries on his belly when he was a baby. They used to share knowing glances when their father went on tangents. She used to take him on trips to the park. Now Aegon finds himself wondering what things Rhaenyra whispers in Viserys’ ear when he is not around.

Maybe that was the last time Rhaenyra genuinely liked him. When he was younger with no motives or true thoughts of his own. He supposed he can’t blame her; that was the last time he liked being in his own body too.

There are times he looks at his sister, and he wants her to bring him into a hug. Rhaenyra always gave the best hugs, only rivaled by his mom. He wants to burst into tears and tell her that she was his first friend. That he needed her years ago. But then he remembers the look of disbelief he received when Viserys said Aegon would be working for the firm.

The coldness is better. His heart doesn’t break multiple times over anymore.

“Aegon and I can discuss that later,” Rhaenyra says after a minute. She stands to leave. “This meeting is over.”

She’s frustrated. He can tell by the way she leaves the room without a single glance his way. One thing they do have in common is the bone-chilling urge to flee a place whenever things get too difficult or when they get too annoyed. Could be self-preservation. Could be them sparring others the anger Targaryens are known for.

Aegon sits for a moment as everyone else filters out of the room. The rain comes down harder against the windows. He closes his eyes listening to way it bangs against the building.

Tip tap tip tap

He identifies with the rain. Moody, surly, gloomy.

———

By the time Aegon packs up to leave for Aemond, the rain had stopped. The clouds clearing out as the light leaves the sky.

He lets the top down on his car. The cool air nips at his tip of his nose and cheeks. It burns in the best way. Aegon sits at the front of the building that he knows Aemond will be in. He sits patiently for minutes, but then curiosity and impatience take over.

Whenever he is on the campus, he can’t help but want to take it all in. Look at all the buildings he can. Explore as if he was child again. He always thought it would be him to follow in his mother’s footsteps coming here, instead it was Aemond. He tries not to let the scratching bitterness work its way up his throat whenever they go home. The way Alicent frets and gushes over Aemond holds a special place in brain.

Her sweet, talented boy

He still does not know if she says it in front of him on purpose or by accident.

The building was nothing like the firm. Warm wood opposed to the glass and shiny metal he was used to. It was easy to know where Aemond would be, most of the lights in rooms dimmed except for one at the end of the hall.

He follows the piano he can hear faintly. Even though they are brothers, Aegon often feels like he is encroaching on something deeply personal when he hears Aemond play. Like he was hearing a part of Aemond he kept hidden from world. It made him peak in the room versus walking straight in.

He sees Aemond, eyes closed, playing a melody he does not recognize. It’s beautiful. But that is nothing out of the ordinary for Aemond.

Before he can finally make his presences known, a pair of legs obstruct his view. A graceful turn, followed by an acrobatic leap. All Aegon can is stare in slight awe, but he can’t help his mind from drifting to his mother. It reminds him of the black and white photos of her hanging in the foyer of their family home. Or the old videos of she used to show them when they were little.

He doesn’t know what he misses more - being that young or when Alicent wanted to share those things with them.

Before Aegon can finally walk in, the dancer stops abruptly turning to Aemond.

“Hmmmm,” she hums lowly. “I’m just not feeling it.”

Aemond lets out a guttural groan in response. He stands from the piano, roughly closing the top.

“You have not ‘felt’ the last two things I have composed.”

The dancer shrugs, not fazed by Aemond’s temperament. “Nothing has inspired me yet.”

He mumbled something under his breath, and Aegon watches as a head full of hair pulled pack in a ponytail snap back to his brother.

“What was that?”

Aegon knows that tone well. Him and Helaena would use it often when Aemond did that. They both hated when he would mumble under his breath. It always led to arguments that Alicent would have to break up. Aemond starts to gather the music sheets on the piano.

“Could be your tired routine that has everything feeling uninspired,” Aemond says louder.

“Oh please,” there is something so oddly familiar about the voice as it rings out. The insults don’t match the clear and sprite like nature of it. “If anything is tired, it is the cheap Rachmaninoff imitations you keep composing.”

“Gods, you’re such a….”

“Awe, what am I Aemond,” she doesn’t miss a beat. “tell me, so then I can tell you what you are. Because trust me if you think calling me a bitch is going to hurt my feelings, you should hear what people say about you.”

It makes Aemond falter. Aegon knows that deposited the tough face his brother puts on; he gets bogged down with what others think and expect of him. Aegon decides that maybe he should step in now.

“I think you both looked and sounded great,” he winced as soon as the words came out. His voice loudly ranges through the studio. Not entirely the smooth entrance it should have been. Aemond’s eyes shoot to Aegon; he seems to be getting that angry look from all his siblings lately.

Aegon freezes when his gaze meets big eyes staring at him incredulously. He recognizes the gentle slope of her nose, and the softness of her pretty face.

“Oh, fuck me.”

Aegon has a special talent for being foolishly. A knack for being numbingly unintelligent when it comes to feelings. At least that is what Daeron tells him.

“For someone so bright in other ways, you can be real stupid.”

But managing to include himself in the mess that is Aemond’s university life must be a new kind of low. This must be the Gods punishing him. The false promises he dishes out to women coming to finally bite him in the ass.

Her eyes go from Aegon to Aemond, then back to Aegon before she left out a chuckle of disbelief. “My life must be joke.”

Aegon opens his mouth to say something, but then realizes his mouth is the thing that got in him into this mess in the first place. His mouth on yours, his mouth on you, and his mouth’s ability to say sweet nothings at the drop of a hat. So all he can do is watch as you angrily put on your coat and tear off your dance shoes. While putting on your boots you turn to Aemond.

“Figure your shit out before reaching out to me again,” you hiss at him.

You don’t even spare Aegon another glance as you storm out. Leaving him with just the quick whiff of your sweet perfume.

The two brothers stand there in silence for a moment before Aemond finally speaks.

“I thought I told you to stay in the car?”

The drive to the Thai place was filled with Aemond cutting Aegon off by turning the radio louder and louder. He asks for what happened but seemingly shut down when the implication of what happened became clear.

“So, you fucked my project partner,” he mutters bitterly. “And then completely ghosted her after you promised you wouldn’t. On top lying about your last name.”

Aegon shakes his head, mouth full of tom kha khai. When he says it like that it sounds so awful.

“We did not have sex,” Aegon repeats. Then his shoulders slump. “But yes… we might have done… other stuff and I may have… not called when I said I would.”

Aemond scoffs, picking at his half-eaten curry. The brother bonding not going how Aegon wanted it to.

“I can apologize. I can send flowers.”

“No, absolutely not.” Aemond blanches. “You need to leave her alone. We are already not on the same page, the last thing I need is more issues with her.”

He did have a nice night with you. One of the better ones he can remember. It could why he was so apprehensive to reach out. It was just Aegon’s luck. He manages to fuck things up even when he says he won’t get attached and involved.

“Well, I guess I feel a little bit less bad about what I was going to tell you,” Aemond says, then clears his throat. “Criston asked about you again when we talked.”

Aegon says nothing in return. This dinner was a mistake. He had already had a bad day at work; everything has down spiraled from there.

“I invited him to my recital in a couple of weeks. I just thought I should give you heads-up if you decide to come.”

Aegon shrugs. “It is your recital; you can invite whoever you want.”

“Funny, mother said the same thing,” Aemond smiled, it not reaching his eyes. “I don’t get why you guys must take your feelings out on him. He was nothing but kind to us. Especially to you, he taught you everything you knew about drumming. He didn’t make you go ha-“

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Aegon snaps.

What he really wants is a cold pint or a glass of wine, but he knows the look Aemond will give him if he orders one. Before a head-splitting headache comes on, Aegon asks for the check.

He wants to forget about the dinner. To forget about all the feelings that get stuck is him brain and keep him from functioning the way he wants to. Some nights he dreams about his siblings all being together, their father a distant memory. Other nights, he has nightmares of Alicent’s face contorted in pain and tears. Scared and disappointed.

But tonight, brought something different. Visions of soft lips, and a warm laugh flood his mind. Everything syrupy, and hazy in the best way. Not even Aemond’s words could break the succession of them.

Stay away from her

Aegon has always had trouble doing what he supposed to

#aegon ii angst #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the elder #hotd imagine #hotd angst #hotd fanfic #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x oc #aegon x reader #black!reader #black!oc #modern hotd au #modern hotd #aegon x you #house of the dragon #hotd

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shellxrls · 30 days

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babe r u okay we haven’t seen you for ages :/

SORRY NONNIE. i feel like i shld do a clarification post cuz i've gotten a few asks and i feel kinda bad for leaving u guys in the dark 😭. i've just been putting this off cuz i've been tired and stressed coupled with other reasons (that i'll explain) that make me not want to publicly interact on this blog:

recently i've noticed such a large uprise in hate on this app (ranging from pro-israel/anti-palestine posts to mutuals outside of my fandoms being called aggressive slurs to ppl within the obx fandom consistently expressing opinions of dislike and resentment to authors for simply writing what they want) - also largely made up of anon asks with the foundation of racial or sexuality based hate (which i won't go into depth ab but ppl definitely pick and choose who to send hate to based on those factors - pisses me the fuck off more than anything bcuz i don't come on this app to be bombarded with racism and reminders of my racial perception in this world, regardless of whether its directed at me or mutuals).

another thing, (which ik has been said forever but continues to remain important), the lack of support and interaction for/with writers on this app is definitely very discouraging. i no longer feel supported by the community i've created and the truth is i need that interaction to keep writing and engage my motivation otherwise i feel like what i'm doing on this app is pointless.

no one logs onto this app to listen to me rant ab personal issues, and so i wont' go into extensive detail - but i've consistently used tumblr to escape my personal life, and the burdens and stress that come with. ofc i'm a writer, but wayyy beyond that this is intended to be my safe space where i can enjoy and simply be myself and let go of personal stress as well as interact happily w like-minded ppl. due to this, i've made an effort to take time out of my own life and duties to write and to interact because of the community. recently however i find myself more and more anxious to even open the app and look at my notifs, and whenever i do open the app i make myself feel bad by comparing myself to other writers - which is completely normal occasionally, but at this point its not as easy to shake considering all the factors listed above. its unfortunate to say but it simply hasn't felt worth it to be on this app and interact for while now for me.

before anyone says i'm being too sensitive or its my sole purpose to write - pls remember that this is entirely my blog, i can choose what my motivations are for being on this app and its not a stretch to kindly ask for more in terms of stopping hate and simply being more supportive if u do genuinely like an author and their works.

ultimately i've been both a fan/reader and a writer on this app for multiple years atp, i can understand both perspectives but i've honestly never felt this disconnected and upset ab a blog before. I understand that not everyone is to blame, and i'm sorry to those who've been kind & active supporters, but my public interactions have been limited and may continue to be bcuz i feel v unsure & stagnant atm.

the only 'exception' to this is my mutuals, i love them all obv and their works, & so i'm continuing to interact w them as per normal, and so i am active on the app & i'm definitely not entirely gone by any means. if anything i just need a few more days to reconsider, but we'll see.

#sorry this is kinda inconclusive but i'm just feeling overwhelmed #i feel like not many ppl care but . i feel bad for just Ghosting #and my personal life makes me so beyond suicidal every single DAY but thats a separate issues sorry #(maybe it has a little to do w this but still. let’s ignore)#asks.ᐟ ⋆｡˚𖦹 #;anon #;chatting

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peachjagiya · 2 months

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Hello hello.

I recently discovered your blog and I like it very much. I love they way you express your opinion and the way you explain things to make your point.

To be honest, I am a baby army. Started listening BTS at the beginning of this year (I KNOW, what the f was I doing before? No fucking clue ugh!). This also makes me a new Taekook stand, which can be super overwhelming. Reading you blog helps puts things into perspective but I still have a few questions and I would like to know your opinion (sorry if you’ve talked about this before!) I have a lot to catch up on in terms. And find to this, social media edits do not help. They are very biased to say the least

Anyway, on to the questions.

1. When do you think Taekook became a couple? From what I’ve seen and felt, I felt a change in 2020 in the dynamic of everything. This being the videos posted, the run bts episodes, the interviews … I might be wrong but I felt a shift then and wanted to know your opinion.

2. In terms of group dynamics, how do you think the other members feel in terms of Taekook? Like I try to put myself in their shoes and it must be hard to have a good dynamic if they have couple’s fights and things like that…

3. In terms on Fan Service, I can’t help but feel bad when Tae has to witness the constant push of FS between JK and Jimin and unable to express or do anything about it. What do you think about the maknae line’s dynamic in regards to this?

There’s so much information out here sometimes I find myself doubting that they’re actually together but then I witness some instances that brings back my faith.

Anyway, thank you so much for taking the time to answer. I appreciate it. Sorry if my questions are all over the place, my thoughts themselves are all over the place with this subject and I CANT SLEEEPPPP!

Bear with, it’s going to be a long one!

I’m baby army too. A year now. I just happen to be the kind of person who goes all in and devours content.

Social media edits are so discombobulating for new fans. I definitely found myself falling for some edits that I no longer consider. Fake subtitles, slow motion moments that aren’t actually moments, quora rumours… it’s a lot. I still have to remind myself what’s factual and what’s a rumour I read on a K-pop prediction Twitter. It’s a minefield. I’ve found tumblr quite useful because there’s a lot of people here who can put things into context and clarify and provide the perspective of army who were there at the time. I hope you look at my comments because that’s where the real sense is!

I wrote a timeline but my thoughts have evolved a bit. I think basically they’ve always been circling each other, always been interested but a combination of hormones and the massiveness of pursuing a relationship they’re societally or business-ly discouraged from having created a lot of shifting and drama. I think maybe early confessions, kissing, all that young love stuff might have occurred here.

I’ve been reading some really interesting thoughts and having great discussion about the various members relationship with the company and how this plays with Taekook.

The conclusion I keep coming to, based only on my reading of it, is that Tae seems to be a rebel with strong will to prioritise his heart, company be damned, but JK seems to be more inclined to follow his head despite his heart being huge and loud. His heart wins more and more though and that’s why you get this on and off vibe of the first half of their ten years.

2018 feels pivotal in that both of them hit a wall of pressure and seemed to separate off into a distinct unit. They get each other, they’re each others self-confessed safe space. They’re united even when the rest of the members aren’t getting through. I’m less convinced now that this was a getting together - maybe a resolve to work through complicated stuff together though.

I’d agree 2020 is a shift and that’s where I’d place it. I’m about to get overwrought but I’m thinking about it a bit lately: Think about like pandemic and the impact that had on the whole world. Suddenly work isn’t the most important thing, suddenly a shift in everyone’s priorities. I know a few people who, despite the scariness of it, actually found they were able to breathe and reassess. I decided to move my entire life back to my hometown and quit my job, very heart over head decision. I wonder if this enforced period of quiet let them reassess too. BTS Monuments shows Tae quiet and alone at home but a jacket that looks like JKs in the back. Maybe they saw each other without the intense workload. Time to talk, time to just be them and see how that worked. And hiatus/chapter two might just be a natural continuation of that. JK seems as goal oriented as ever but braver at prioritising himself and Tae seems to be the same and maybe for the first time their ambitions in heart and head are aligned which lets them move forward more smoothly.

I have a feeling it’s a professional minefield but personally that’s just their best friends in love. Maybe it makes their life a little harder to have a secret to hide but I don’t think they’d resent them. I bet they all have things they need to hide. From what they’ve said, I think Jimin might have been really entwined in it. He’s a natural carer, protective of them both. He’s often first on the scene when Tae is sad and he’s often implied he’s been there when Tae has been crying.

As for couple fights, I think about that post-Tokyo intense awkwardness between Tae and JK where they’re visibly annoyed with each other. That’s one time when it seemed the other guys were involved a little. They just seemed hyper aware of the awkward but kind of eyerolly. The thing about teens and early twenties is that you think everyone wants to know your drama. I’d imagine with maturity, they probably keep fights between themselves.

On an amusing side thought, I’ve seen two videos of potential times of discontent between Tae and JK where Yoongi has given the impression of being quietly in Tae’s corner. I think those two get each other in a really low key way that I find quite lovely.

I think it’s had an impact but not where you’d expect. The TikTok edits would have you believe Tae is seething in the corner but I don’t know if that’s entirely true. I have seen video of him seemingly rolling his eyes after laughing at Jimin and JK but it seemed notable because of how isolated it was? He is quite good at a poker face though, right? He bides his time and fills in the real details eventually. Again this is only my sense but I feel a little awkwardness between JK and Jimin over it now it’s happening less? Any time you’re expected to pretend anything is a massive mental drain on anyone. But equally, they’ve entered the buddy system together and I’m assuming that hasn’t been forced on them? So hopefully they just remain close and the fan service was all strictly business for them. Maybe I’m just imagining that they seem weird with each other.

There’s so much information out here sometimes I find myself doubting that they’re actually together but then I witness some instances that brings back my faith.

The universal Taekook experience. 😂 it’s natural to doubt. It feels too good to be true.

Thank you for lovely words and great questions, anon 💜

#my asks #taekook

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sassykattery · 8 months

Text

Dollface Pt. 6

I think we all know where this is going.

CW: Main Character is afab, uses she/her pronouns. Profanity. Smut scene: fingering (f! receiving), piv, creampie. Use of gendered terms: reader called "lady". Size kink.

The main character is afab, uses she/her pronouns. This story is meant to be somewhat curvy/plus-sized reader insert, but the main character is given a physical description, but it's not crucial to the story or mentioned often after Part 1.

Themes: Romance. Magic. Adventure. Car sex. Smut. Diavolo x fem! MC. Fluff.

Characters: Main Character. Diavolo.

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

18+ only

Masterlist

Slowly, she turned and unbuckled her seatbelt, reaching toward the back and pulling on two pull tabs on the sides of the back seat, causing them to fold down.

Diavolo's hands began to wander her form, touching any and everywhere he could as she sat forward again. She suddenly giggled.

"You may have to crawl through the back. Go on, and I'll let you in," she said.

He got out and quickly walked around to the back where the hatch opened to reveal her on her hands and knees, the front two seats now also folded forward. Though he was still rather massive as he crawled in on top of her, this was more doable than just trying to fit in the backseat alone. The headroom was less than desirable, but it didn't matter too much as she closed the hatch and tugged him down to kiss his lips feverishly.

"This is what you wanted, yes?" She asked lustfully.

"More or less," he murmured playfully. "As long as I have you."

"You have me," she replied as her hands busied themselves into unbuttoning his shirt and pulling off his tie.

"Then that's all I'll ever need," he stated, kissing her neck. They scooted up as far as they could, allowing his long legs to stretch out, still much too tall. It was better when she laid up against the back of the passenger front seat.

"I want you, Dia," she whimpered into his ear as she kissed the lobe. He had her jeans down around just one of her ankles, spreading her legs out to plunge his fingers into her wet heat.

"Oh baby," he groaned, feeling her creamy wetness cover his digits, listening to the wet sounds they made.

"Mmmmmm, Dia," she let out a long moan.

"Is this what your friend thought you would be doing here?" He asked impishly in her ear.

She squirmed and smiled, her hips bucking into his hand. "No, but she'd be happy for me," she replied cutely.

"What a good friend," he murmured, fucking his fingers into her faster.

He slowed as she pulled her blouse off, unclasping her bra and laying it to the side. Working his way back up to a faster pace, he ducked his head down to kiss and lick her nipples, sucking on them as she arched her back from the sensation. Heat was already building in the small space, making it steamy and foggy on the windows.

Moving back up to her lips, he mumbled his praises to her. "You're amazing, my little darling. Treating me so well, letting me ravish you. You feel so good just in my hand." He cupped her pussy then, fingers still plunged deep within and curling them against her g-spot. She let out a much louder moan then, her core and inner knot tightening as her release approached faster and faster.

"Please, make me cum," she whimpered softly against his neck. He had lost his patience in that moment and quickly took his fingers away to unbuckle his belt, unbutton his slacks, and pull out his cock, already hard and so ready to plunge into her cunt. He stopped, remembering she couldn't see as her hands were blindly feeling what he was doing.

"I need you," he groaned. "I need to be inside you."

"Take me," she murmured hastily. He stopped and searched her face in the darkness. It wasn't often he was caught off-guard by his own emotions, but seeing her like this, so receptive of him, it was almost overwhelming.

"I love you," he stated more seriously. She couldn't see his expression, but the sincerity of his voice made the lustful haze dissipate for a moment.

"I... I love you, too," she said slowly. He could see the uneasiness at the revelation in her eyes, but the way she also relaxed made him realize she meant it, too.

He kissed her passionately then, taking hold of his cock again to angle it towards her entrance. The heat radiating off her cunt was so enticing, and the initial thrust in was an easy glide. She immediately clung onto him, her thighs clamped around his hips.

"Darling, relax for me," he murmured, using his free hand to slip under her head and cradle her while his fingers gently rubbed her scalp. "I'm here, I won't go anywhere."

Very slowly, she relaxed her body, still holding on but not quite as tightly. And, just as slowly, he began thrusting into her, her pussy opening up more and more to him. Even her moans sounded less strained, more open, and relaxed.

"Feels s'good," she mumbled, kissing his cheek. He was enthralled by the sweet gestures she did and made like that, or how her hands roamed his back and shoulders, curling her little fingers in his hair.

He hummed in reply, sliding his other arm underneath her back to hold her closer, as if they weren't close enough in this case.

"I promise to give you the world if you say you'll let me keep you," he murmured in her ear, nibbling on her lobe in return.

"I'm yours," she replied, one of her hands grabbing onto his shoulder blade, her nails digging into his flesh. He groaned and sped up, taking her right leg and hoisting it over his shoulder. She cried out then, feeling another rush of heat coming on to barrel another orgasm through her.

"I'm yours, my love, my sweet sweet girl," he replied, now pussydrunk and feeling his own orgasm approach.

"Cum with me," she mumbled into his ear. "I'm close."

"I will, baby, I promise," he grunted in reply, fucking her faster. The car had begun to rock the faster and harder he went. It was fairly evident to anyone who should pass by what was going on, like two teenagers at their first opportunity to be alone like this. Though, the pair were more fortunate that they were out in the country, somewhere private.

"I love you," she whimpered again, nuzzling her face into his. He melted at her unprompted words, feeling and hearing her sincerity course through his veins.

"I love you more," he murmured playfully again. She smiled in return, making his cock throb then as he got closer to the edge. For him, she didn't have to do much to turn him on or make him feel good. It was simply like she was made for him because every little thing she did and said just fueled his fire.

"Please, inside me," she commanded in a soft cry, tightening her hold again. He let her, knowing she felt her control slipping as they danced further and further away from the rational and closer to the euphoric side of life.

One of his hands quickly slid out from beneath her and back in between them to rub at her clit, giving her the extra stimulation.

"Yes! Yes, right there! Don't stop!" Her voice fell to a more quiet and strangled whimper.

"Come on, baby, give it to me," he growled, picking up the pace again and slamming into her. "So close."

"Diavolo!"

Her little wail was muffled into his shoulder, tears pricking her eyes as her vision went white. Feeling her walls begin to milk his cock, he finally let go and chased the pleasure burning his sanity. His grunts turned into moans, a slight whimper as his release finally sank in, driving his hips to surge forward and become still. A warmth filled her deeply, making her twitch more with each wave of bliss.

After taking a moment to come back to reality and gather in his senses, Diavolo felt her still trembling, clutching onto him like her life depended on it with her face buried in his shoulder.

He murmured her name a few times, trying to coax her into relaxing. It took several tries, but finally, she pulled back, letting him see her. She had a few tear stains on her cheeks, her makeup a bit ruined then.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" He murmured quietly, caressing the side of her head.

"N-No..." she mumbled, somewhat in a daze and staring blankly.

"What happened?" He prodded further, anxious that he messed up.

"It's just... a lot. I'm emotional and... I'm sorry, I sound dumb," she tried to explain and then backpeddled.

"No, tell me. It was okay?"

"More than okay, it was amazing. I just experience it very intensely, on an emotional level," she answered, sounding more clear-headed.

"I see. I think that's endearing. I'm glad we have this connection," he answered. He then looked side to side, thinking of how to do the next part. "Is it okay if I remove myself?" He asked finally.

"Mhm," she affirmed, letting him go. He placed her leg back down slowly and pulled away, tucking himself back in and somewhat putting himself together. His attention was diverted when he saw her sit up on her elbows, wincing.

"I'm too old to do this in a car anymore," she grumbled. Her eyes popped open and she looked in the direction of the prince. "Well, not as old as you."

Diavolo growled playfully and snatched her into his arms, making her giggle and squeal as he sent his lithe fingers up and down her sides.

"And this old demon found a sweet, pretty little lady to steal away and keep all for himself for eternity," he stated in her ear using a flair of his demonic nature in his voice.

She instantly became still, staring into the darkness as her heartbeat quickened. He could feel the drastic change in her and started to backpeddle himself.

"I apologize for scaring you," he stated.

"I can't tell if that scared me or turned me on, to be quite honest," she replied a bit matter-of-factly.

"Both?"

"Both."

They then started laughing together, turning so they could hold each other on their sides, his arm under her head for support.

"I love your laugh, it's so authentic," he tried to compliment her. She raised a brow.

"That's a nice way of saying it's ugly," she bit back. His brows shot up and he panicked.

"No! That's not what I meant at all, it's just–" he saw her then smirk and he stopped.

"I'm teasing, big boy," she stated impishly. "I like yours too. It's contagious."

He sighed and used his free arm to pull her in closer.

"I can't believe this is real at times," he murmured to himself and her.

"Why?"

"I've lived a lonely life. It was only when my butler and the brothers came along that I felt like I had company, but still, they're at arm's length," he answered.

"Then you crave intimacy, romantic or platonic," she replied thoughtfully. He was quiet for a moment.

"I suppose so." The prince sat with it for a little bit before adding, "I don't want just sex with you. I desire intimacy from you in all its forms."

Her hand came to rest on his upper chest, just below his neck. She looked up at where she thought his eyes would be. "I hope you understand that I have a lot of love to give. I'm very loyal and desire closeness too. But you'll have to forgive me because, at times, I'm distant from having been abused in the past."

"I hope you choose to let me in so that I can help you," he replied. She nodded and nuzzled her face into his neck, sighing with content as he fully wrapped himself around her– well, as best he could after all.

After a little while, she finally sat up on her elbow and sighed. "We should probably head back," she declared. He kissed her forehead and hummed in agreement.

---

Once back at her house, she led Diavolo to the spare bedroom on the opposite side of the house to her and opened the door. It was very late and her parents were well asleep then.

"You'll sleep here. I already put your clothes away, and if you need anything, just come get me," she explained. He walked in and turned.

"I don't get the pleasure of sleeping with you?" He asked, actually being serious.

She chuckled. "My parents are old-fashioned, so no," she replied. He nodded and looked at the bed.

"I understand, but I'll miss you," he stated sweetly. She approached and gave him a tight hug, to which he kissed the top of her head.

"Good night," she mumbled.

"Sweet dreams, my love."

After that, she closed the door and walked away, heading back to her room. She got settled and ready for bed, donning a sleep shirt and missing the prince as well.

It took only a few minutes of her laying in bed with her eyes closed that she felt the bed shift and a familiar and bulky presence next to her.

"This isn't your bed," she mumbled, turning to face the Demon Lord.

"Any bed that you're in is mine, too," he murmured playfully. "Plus, this one is bigger."

"I'm sorry that the other one is small. I can take that one and you can stay–"

"Darling, I just want to be next to you," he interrupted her.

"Fine, but don't think that my parents will believe you came in here because you were having nightmares or something," she mumbled sleepily, allowing him to pull her into his embrace. He scooted into the middle and pulled her mostly on top of him. His arms came to rest on her back, and he laid there feeling her breathing start to slow, little twitches of her body signaling she was falling asleep.

Diavolo enjoyed every minute of this. Her. Him. This. Them. Together. It was more wondrous than he could ever imagine, more intimate than he ever thought possible for someone like him. A soul so radiant and full of life that was somehow attached to his soulless being was able to show him love in ways he didn't know about.

He rubbed her back as he sat there thinking about her. Thoughts of home started to surface, but now he was starting to wonder about the possibilities before him. What if he never went back to the Devildom? Was he content to stay here, build a life with this human? He definitely couldn't part from her; that wasn't an option. But he wouldn't pressure her into going back home with him.

The Demon Lord imagined what it would be like to build such a life with her. Would they be like the movies? Would they have dinner with her parents once a week? Could he bond with them and come to see them as his family? As the years passed, they could buy a home and get some pets. He could get a job and spoil her rotten like he wanted to.

And before he knew it, he was asleep, too, imagining those things for himself.

---

When she awoke the next morning, she felt around to find her bed empty. Driven by a wave of anxiety, she quickly got up and found her lounge pants before leaving her room. She immediately heard voices coming from the living room, and peaking around in the kitchen over the bar, she saw her father and Diavolo watching TV and conversing about...

"What an intriguing sport! So you play this, yes?" Diavolo asked enthusiastically. Her father immediately lit up and began going on about it.

"Sure, I play, but it's just a hobby. I'll never be a pro like these guys," he answered, pointing the remote at the TV.

"Well, certainly you are very knowledgeable and work very hard to improve your skill. I am sure you could play competitively if you really wanted to," the prince responded.

"Nah, too old. These kids are around my daughter's age and up, but you don't see too many old guys out there," her father stated.

Immediately, Diavolo's head turned when he heard the floorboard shift, knowing she was nearby.

"Well, good morning," the demon called out to her. She sheepishly came around and sat next to Diavolo, his arm instantly encircling her shoulders. He was wearing a black T-shirt, black jeans, and no socks, looking rather comfortable already.

"Morning," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes beneath her glasses.

"Your father was teaching me about golf. It's quite the sport! It requires a lot of concentration, planning, and forethought. It reminds me of chess in that way," Diavolo explained excitedly.

"Did he now..." she mumbled again, still not totally awake.

"Well, I'm gonna go run some errands. Good talkin' to you, son," her dad said, getting up and leaving the room.

Once he was gone, Diavolo excitedly turned to her, crossing a leg.

"I have some good news," he explained.

"That my dad called you son?" She asked sarcastically.

"No– well, yes, I enjoy that he sees me as familiar enough to call me that. Your father is a good man, I can tell," the prince replied happily. "But, no, my good news is my magic returned."

"Oh? It did? When?" She asked, looking surprised.

"This morning, I woke up in my demon form," he explained. She tilted her head in confusion.

"You couldn't before?"

"No. I tried to when I was in the dressing room yesterday, but I felt blocked from my magic," he replied.

"So... that means..." she trailed off.

Diavolo saw the look of uncertainty in her face and knelt down in front of her on the floor, taking her hands in his. "Yes, that means I can find my friends and go home, but I want to preface you with the fact I won't go without you. It's both of us or not at all."

She looked ahead into his eyes, seeing the truth in his golden gaze.

"Okay," she whispered.

He smiled and lurched forward to kiss her, his muscular arms encircling her frame.

"Do you want to see it? Me?" He asked, purring against her lips.

"Sure," she mumbled back, kissing his lips more.

He pulled away from her and completely sat back on his haunches. She sank back into the couch to watch. His hands rested on his thighs as he watched her intently. Like oil paint sliding of its canvas, his humanly form melted away, yielding an even taller and darker demon with bright red hair, black lines tracing over his abdomen, horns curling around his skull, and a set of draconic wings unfurling. His demon form outfit materialized in time with his disclosure.

"Oh," she whispered, barely audible.

"What do you think?" He asked, watching her reaction. Her eyes were wide, heart rate up, but her body started to lean in towards him. He watched as her eyes slowly trailed from the top of his head and down south, taking in every inch.

"You're... stunning..." she murmured in a low pitch. He became acutely aware of her body's reaction to his, clearly in a heightened state of arousal.

The human woman finally sat forward and reached out to him, to which he leaned forward in response to allow her access to him. She caressed his horn and trailed lower, her fingertips brushing over his burning skin. He was now also aware of his arousal for her, how she touched him.

"I, uh... I have a thing for monsters," she confessed suddenly, her eyes tracing the ink across his torso.

"No, really?" He teased. She finally met his gaze again with a burning flush on her cheeks. "You're dating a demon after all. I assumed you did."

She swallowed thickly and continued to let her eyeline fall, absorbing his muscular figure.

"What do you want?" He asked in a seductive tone, getting her attention.

"For you to make love to me," she mumbled bashfully.

He growled playfully then. "It would be my pleasure, and soon enough, it'll be yours, too," he murmured, sliding his hands beneath her to lift her off the couch into a bridal carry back to her room. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him.

She watched him as he walked, seeing the different lights bouncing off of his form. He collapsed his wings behind his back to walk, ducking his head underneath the doorways, as she realized he was definitely taller in this form.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed.

Post made by sassykattery. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated.

Tags: @delphi-dreamin @itsmeninerz @flemmingbamse @themythicaldisaster @marvelous-maniac @biteable-pink-pixie @attic-club-sandwich

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7grandmel · 4 months

Text

Todays rip: 31/01/2024

I'll Face Gay Bowser

Season 7 Featured on: The Year of Grand Dad Sound Selection [Side A]

Ripped by eva twin

youtube

Tentative rip name: I'll Face Gay Bowser Previous rip name: Persona 64

Happy Persona 3 Reload release week, everyone! I would make this post on the date to celebrate properly, but I've got some...plans, for that day, let's say. Until then though - hey, it's eva twin again, and with a Persona rip in tow, Persona 64.

Much like the channel itself, the blog is practically swimming in Super Mario 64 rips at this point: WA-HOO DISCO, Piranha Plantsom, Super Mario 64 Submarine Ending, and of course eva twin's own previous Blessing the Dire, Dire Rains, are just some of the ones I've covered on here. But the thing is, for as frequent as they are - I never find them to grow stale due to just how much sheer creativity and freedom rippers have within Mario 64's sound. At this point, Super Mario 64's set of instruments used throughout its whole soundtrack as so iconic and immediately recognizable to it, that "Super Mario 64" is pretty much an instrument all of its own. And Persona 64 is, really, just another excellent rip showing what that "instrument" can do.

Part of what I love with rips like Piranha Plantsom in particular is just how much fun they have with the vast amount of iconic themes that are in Mario 64, almost taking you on a journey throughout the whole game - yet on the complete opposite side of that, we have rips like Harder To Breathe 64 that try to mine as much as possible out of just one of the game's themes and its core instruments. I find that Persona 64, beyond just being a banger of a rip and an excellent arrangement of Persona 4's I'll Face Myself, also serves as an excellent example of the middle ground between the two extremes. It's clearly taking after Bowser's Theme the most with the harsh, shredding-like sound that defines it taking center stage as the track begins, yet its quickly joined by the more serene, bright piano-like sound that's found in level themes like Dire, Dire Docks. Given that the original I'll Face Myself primarily uses electric guitars for most of its lead melody, it sort of feels as if the big contrast between the two instruments employed in Persona 64 was a deliberate way to bring in some of Persona 4's theming into Mario 64's soundscape - this battle between the bright optimism and hope versus the looming darkness deep within. Intentional or not, its a mood that I can't get enough of - especially in just how joyous of a note the arrangement is able to end off on as a result.

Althesame, it all culminates in one hell of a fun listen - just an all-around fantastic rip, that continues to show just how good the team has gotten at using Super Mario 64 in particular for their rips. Whilst rippers were once simply aiming to achieve authentic imitations of their source materials, the complete freedom that the game's soundscape now offers has opened up a whole new world of creative expression in terms of arranging - althewhile sounding oh so authentically like Mario 64.

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acethatlovesdinos · 6 months

Text

I made a post way early in my blog about how certain fe3h characters would be better if they weren't so dedicated to a single other person or ideal.

for example; Seteth and Flayn are wonderful people, with unique personalities and a well-developed design and backstory.

At several points in the story, regardless of route, you can even see Seteth question some of Rhea's actions and decisions....and it left me longing for a story in which I could fight alongside the Empire but maintain a bond with my beloved saints. (I'm sorry I really just don't like the archbishop leave me be lmao). Plus she kinda loses her mind during CF too, and I'm positive they'd catch on and be concerned.

Anyway so this story is gonna take place at some point along Crimson Flower, and Reader is meant to be the former professor of the Black Eagles. Whether it's Byleth or a self-insert, that's for you to decide, anyway enough rambling let's goooo

1.6k words, angst galore

first person SetethxReader(Byleth?) Alois also makes an appearance

warnings: Literal warzone in the beginning. Reader is shot (with arrows). not sure if it counts as a warning but I used the term "saints" and "goddess" in the context where we usually would say "god" since it seemed fitting lol

~~~~~~~

I sent off the last messenger hawk, watching it fly over the horizon and out of sight.

Communication and negotiations have gone surprisingly well so far, and the Church has agreed to meet up and talk. Edelgard and I agreed that talking it out would be a good first step to avoid more bloodshed, but just in case they had other plans, we would be bringing an army with us.

The day we set for negotiating finally arrived, and we rode up to Magdred in droves. Seemed they had the same idea, as an entire army stood behind Seteth, sat nobly on his wyvern's back.

I stepped off my horse, leaving my sword with it. The only movement in the field was between the high priest and myself, slowly walking toward one another. It was eerily silent, the wind whistling through the trees hushing every other sound.

We finally met in the center of the field, and I parted my lips to speak. "Seteth. I-"

I froze, my ears perking up just in time to pick up an all-too-familiar sound. I knew what it was, but I couldn't react fast enough.

SHNK.

All at once, before I could even move, three arrows found their place deep within my chest.

My heart pounded in my ears. I stared at Seteth, shock, fear, and betrayal rampant in my expression. I was unarmed. I was there to talk. Why did they...? But his eyes seemed to share the same feelings. It...didn't make sense.

Everything was silent, all sides too taken aback to even realize what happened.

My stance swayed, I staggered for a second, then I fell, the metal pieces of my armor clanking as they met the dirt.

Hell broke loose once my head hit the ground. I heard roars from both sides as each army advanced, enveloping the field in violent noise that had been silent mere moments ago.

Someone grabbed me. I...I couldn't tell who. My eyes wouldn't focus, my body felt cold. I was pulled into a protected embrace, and a distant voice echoed in my ears as the warmth of rushed, desperate healing spells washed over me.

"Y/N! Y/N, listen to me! Keep your eyes open! I need you to stay awake, please! Hold on!"

Saints above, everything ached when my eyes opened again. My pained groan alerted the guardian at my side, Alois, who looked like he hadn't slept in days. A shaken gasp made way for a relieved sigh and a tired smile, and I could tell it took a lot of internal force for him not to hug me.

A proper look around made me realize I was in the infirmary back at Garreg Mach, and three bloodied patches of bandage stretched across my torso. Ouch. Manuela knelt by a different cot, no doubt tending to another casualty from the fight.

"I...I don't remember much. I walked up to talk, and I heard the arrows...then...?"

Alois sighed. "Yeah. We had to retreat afterward, but so did they. We're...still trying to figure things out." As if he sensed the rising panic in my mind, he immediately followed, "your class is fine. Edelgard took the lead after you fell." I nodded, relief overtaking the stabbing pain in my chest. They weren't my students anymore, but I still call them 'my kids' now and again. He smiled weakly. "...just like you to be worried about your allies despite your own injuries."

I chuckled, but the moment was brief, and I clutched my chest. The rumble of laughter just shot the pain through me. With a sigh and a stretch, I pulled myself to sit up, getting a better look at the room. As expected, there wasn't a single empty cot in the room, and my heart ached for the wounded. My eyes scanned the room then froze as my gaze set on a guest, sitting in a chair near the door. His emerald eyes locked with mine, and a sneer pulled at my lips. His name fell from my mouth like acid, as if I spat a curse between the syllables.

"Seteth."

He almost flinched at my voice, looking away with so many emotions behind his eyes. Alois put a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Ease up, kid... he's the reason you're still breathing..." I paused. The...reason? No, that couldn't be right. "...he shielded your body with his own back, Y/N. Didn't dare leave your side til the battle ended, and after the fact, he carried you here himself."

So the arms I felt before I passed out...the relief of my injuries on the field...that was...him? I scoffed. "That can't be right..."

I looked back at the holy man, who had stood up and begun to approach. Now that I got a better look at him, he was completely different than how he once held himself. Tired circles lined his eyes, and his usually perfectly styled hair lay askew. His gilded headband was gone, and after a moment's realization, so too were his priestly robes, replaced by one of Hanneman's suits. Unable to help myself, I grinned. "Oh Saints, you look terrible. You a hostage now or something? Did we capture you?" I knew it was petty and childish, but Goddess, it felt good to get back at him in some way. Watching his cheeks redden at the comment made it even better.

He sighed, familiar frustration returning to his tone. "Y/N, the answer to this predicament is simple, you need only to listen." He took a breath, crossing his arms. "I have elected to resign from my position as Rhea's right hand."

...What?

He took a deep breath. "After careful consideration, I determined it would be safer for Flayn and me to make some...adjustments." he sighed. "If you truly are the goddess incarnate as Rhea said, then I have not yet abandoned my faith, but even if you are not, then I will not stray. I...I fear Rhea has...lost herself, in her efforts to overcome this. She is not who she once was, and I feel strongly that she no longer possesses the same values she once held."

I could only laugh, if only at the irony of the situation. "You've suddenly switched sides, and ever so conveniently now that we've got the upper hand. Siding with the victors, I see....can't say I blame you."

He frowned. "Beyond that, the battle that unfolded those days ago was the last time I was going to tolerate her going behind my back." At my confusion, he continued. "I questioned the archers after the fight, specifically the three who fired at you. I had given them explicit instruction not to make a move unless the Empire struck first. We had arranged that meeting out of mutual trust, and I had full intent of respecting that."

That made me frown more. "So then, why did they-?"

He sighed. "Rhea apparently pulled them aside before we left. She told them that you would be conniving and that you would attack me when my guard was down. She told them that once you were in range, they were to fire. Those directions were not known to me until I had practically interrogated them after the battle."

He shook his head. "My negligence caused you grave injury, and I felt...fully responsible for that. At this point I can only beg your forgiveness."

I was quiet for a long while, trying to process his words. "...You and I have stood as enemies for the last five years. Why weren't you just grateful for my downfall?"

"....because...we didn't...I..." he paused, trying to find the words. "I never wanted to be your enemy. But...I was blinded by my obedience to the Archbishop, and my dedication to Seiros. I never wanted this to happen. Flayn has been more at risk in these last five years than she ever was in years past, and the sooner we can conclude this war, the better it will be for us.

I sighed. Of course it was about her. Its always her when it comes to his concerns.

"But...more than that..."

I paused. There's more?

"I am well aware that there are no excuses...but I'd like to explain why I acted how I did." He sighed. "I've seen you fight for years now, watching you lead hundreds of battles to victory. Each and every time, you looked...ethereal, almost divine....untouchable. Somehow, in your incredible strength, your elegant visage, it left my mind that you could get hurt." He frowned. "I'm sure it sounds ridiculous now, but...that was it. And...the moment I saw the arrows pierce your flesh, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared. The realization, that...you could get hurt...that...that you could...die? I just...I don't know. I couldn't....I didn't want to face the possibility of a world without you in it."

He took a deep breath.

"Y/N. That scare made me realize something I should have seen long ago...and that I wish I could have pursued at a better time. But...the truth is...it is that I love you, Y/N."

I sat silent, shocked at every word as I stared up at the fallen priest. What? After everything that unfolded, after all that happened...so much going on...this is what he has to say? I didn't even know where to begin.

My face shifted, void of any feelings, any possible thought. A cold scowl hid my confusion and frustration.

"Get out."

He paused, opening his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand to interject.

"This...really isn't a good time for something like this. Please...just go."

Seteth stared at me, so many thoughts behind his now glossy eyes, so many words under a bitten tongue, but he nodded wordlessly and excused himself from the infirmary. Alois gently put a hand on my arm, but I brushed him away and laid back down. "Not now...please." i let out a shaky breath that I didn't realize I had been holding, and hugged myself as I tried to still my racing mind and heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaaaaaaa that went so much longer than I expected but I hope you guys liked it! Let me know if a part 2 interests anyone! Aaaaa i love writing :]

#angst my beloved #setleth #seteth x reader #seteth x byleth #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #three houses #saint cichol #black eagles #crimson flower #silver snow #fanfic

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eldritch-collective · 4 months

Text

[image id: a looping gif of Rain World Gourmand performing a power jump by throwing a spear and rock to get from the right ledge to the left ledge, almost backflipping in the process. end of id.]

Hello there! I wanted to make an anonymous MOGAI and LIOM blog to post stuff whenever I want to and maybe take some requests if I like it a lot!

My pseudo name is Service! If you'd like my pronouns, I use He/They/It/Angel and many other pronouns in general! I am physically and mentally disabled, neurodivergent, and plural. My spoons fluctuate due to being a systemmate within a very active system.

Stuff I'm likely to make for myself are pronouns, genders, plural terms, modifer terms, and bases for edits! I enjoy coining, flag designing, icons, emoji edits, and likely other stuff for requests! So that's likely what I end up posting most! I am completely open to whatever SFW to Suggestive and Graphic range in terms of requests and will properly tag. More info below! Feel free to promo!

Let me know if you wish to be untagged! @neopronouns @narcette @genderstarbucks @sugar-and-vice-mogai

I specialise in Fandom, Spiritual, Philosophical, Music, and more terms. I mostly focus on fandom and other special interests and hyperfixations. However, I love doing brutal and bloody terms, flags, and edits!

I have permission to do Traitians, Claseans, Damascean, and Voxus terms made by @flagmeanew (18+), as the mods have said the blog is now inactive.

My tags will be literal (i.e. flags will be labeled as flags) and I will provide image id's! If my id's are not sufficient enough, please let me know! My non-content tag will be "service.exe" and asks tag will be "askservice.exe".

I hold my judgement for the most part with requests, but I will lay out what I won't do! I refuse to do IRL people, Illegal and Unsafe content, Unsanitary, Known Trans/Homo/Queerphobic or other generally Hateful Creator Media, Potentially Dangerous or Harmful terms, and anything I personally do not experience (such as I am white and will not feel comfortable coining terms involving race).

If I decline a request, I'll post it for others to do! If I delete and do not post your request, it is likely because it's triggering for me or not appropriate for my blog.

My goal is to be as open as possible on this blog. Such as I reclaim slurs associated with my experiences. However, I am willing to listen and right my wrongs. I will post possibly triggering media, so please be sure to have any fandom or other media tags blocked already as I will be using fandom tags like "(fandom)" or "(content) tw" after the primary tags.

How I coin is that I often use my own heritage and culture that I grew up with! I usually use a mixture of Latin, Gaelic, and Nordic roots. I can technically do ones that are not ones I'm personally familiar with, but please include the roots you have in mind if you want me to use a different root!

Short QNA-ish to give more basic information: 1. This is a real blog. I am not trolling, making satire, nor creating this to fake my experiences. This is genuine and meant for fun for myself in self expression. 2. I do everything on desktop and use Clip Studio Paint EX, but a good free alternative is GIMP. 3. I may or may not queue as I post immediately after done sometimes or just queue it up when I have multiple ideas. 4. Since I'm sorta new to the community in regards to creating, I will be slow with responding since I have day-to-day things to take care of. 5. I do not have an explicit list for refusals in requests, so please be respectful if I do not do your request. I simply just want to create without restrictions on myself. 6. I do not have a DNI, but I will block if I find you to make me uncomfortable or are found to be against my boundaries. 7. I am okay with my terms being posted on Wikis, just provide credit and link back to me! 8. Spam likes and reblogs are fine! 9. I am all for systems of different origins (such as endogenic and more), mspec people, and have a lot of positive opinions about the communities I wish to participate in, even if not always active! I refuse to be exclusionary without good reason (i.e. I will believe in good faith first and foremost). 10. If I mistag something or you need a tag added, please let me know! I'll correct it as soon as I can! (This goes for incorrect, incomplete, or missing image id's as well!) 11. Gif on this post is from Rain World's Miraheze Wiki on Gourmand's wiki page. Icon is the second fight form of Gabriel from ULTRAKILL on the simplified Breathknightclasean flag. Header and Blog backgrounds are gifs made by industrial---complex on Tumblr. 12. This can and WILL update as time goes on since I am still learning the environment of the community due to having been inactive personally with the community.

#mogai #liom #kinfolk #plural #therian #system #alterhuman #nonhuman #otherkin #service.exe

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eisforeidolon · 9 months

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Curious about your thoughts on the lawsuit against Jensen and whether or not you think it will ruin his career and prospects for producing anything else. Of course both J's fans are once again arguing over who is better than the other and who is a more competent producer. To be honest I never fully immersed myself in the fandom and everyday I know why. Seeing Jensen fail seems to be the thing now and no matter how well either of them do people will continue to hate one or the other. Only the people ignoring the drama are having fun in the SPN fandom while others continue a cycle of my fave is doing better than yours. Hopefully Jensen and Danneel will take responsibility and settle this case amicably but ultimately human beings make mistakes and he is not immune from that. I like both Jared and Jensen and if they fail and make mistakes I will either let them go or try to be understanding and hope they grow and learn from those mistakes. No one does anything perfect 100% of the time. I understand some fans bitterness towards Jensen but sometimes I wonder what does that bitterness really get you. Even if Jensen retires tomorrow and is never heard from again I'm sure he would still be talked about due to his failure to thrive beyond Supernatural. The fandom experience should be fun but it doesn't feel fun when it comes to SPN. Anyway love your blog and your level headed opinions. Sorry for the long post.

NGL, some of this struck me really weird, but I'm going to give the benefit of the doubt and assume maybe you've just spent too much time listening to weird stan echo chambers.

The idea that people in general are going to be talking about Jensen's "failure to thrive" beyond Supernatural is just ... a take. Let's put aside that he's done several movies of voice work as animated Batman and pretend The Boys is totally a show no one ever talks about or talks about in terms of Jensen's performance on it. As well as that it's been only three years since SPN's finale filmed - not only do projects take time to develop often counted in years and more than occasionally get shit-canned when one of hundreds of factors falls through? Those three years have included the tail end of a global pandemic and now a writers' and actors' strike. Forget all that. It's still the case that normals don't sit around talking about what a huge disappointment the cast from, say, Friends are for not having super memorable roles afterwards - they're talking about Friends. Similarly, co-lead of a fifteen year show is a respectable acting career in and of itself. Only obsessed stans of one stripe or another desperate to make everything a competition talk like that about an actor, and again, nobody should take them seriously.

But let's move on to the case itself [X]. Immediate preface, I am not a lawyer, and definitely not a lawyer specializing in this area of law, so grain of salt and all that. However, the way our legal system typically works is that you can file a lawsuit for just about anything - whether or not you can prove your case in court (or the other side thinks you might be able to enough to settle) is the part that matters. Someone filing a case is not an inherent indication of meritoriousness to that case. I do not know the specifics of the laws regarding filming during weather - other than what has been in the articles about the case. I do not know the specifics of the weather on that day or what the production crew on the ground knew or should have known. Not all heavy rain is accompanied by thunder/lightning and bolt out of the blue is an expression for a reason. If the big players don't decide it's easier to just settle and the case is found to have merit, I do not know the generally relevant case law which might give me an idea of precedent in terms of which defendants might be held legally liable to what degree of culpability.

However, the idea that this will "ruin [Jensen's] career prospects" as a producer, let alone as an actor? That's just ... Even if the case is meritorious enough to reach a settlement or get a verdict in the plaintiff's favor? As you would expect if you know anything much about lawsuits, it names every defendant with any potential culpability. In this case, that includes Warner Bros, The CW, three additional production companies (not including CM), six individuals, and up to 100 additional as-yet-unnamed potential defendants (Does as in John Does 1-100 Inclusive). Jensen is just the one whose name gets pulled for the article text for obvious reasons. The idea it would be on him or Danneel to be making the call on whether or not to settle when it also involves WB and the CW let alone all the other parties ...

Which is not to say an executive producer doesn't hold responsibility for the conditions on set, that IS part of the gig - and why he, Danneel, and Robbie are included in the suit. But only a stan desperately trying to wish their fantasies into existence would look at this list of defendants and the circumstances where it doesn't seem to be alleged that Jensen was directly involved in the specific chain of events and be like HAHA JENSEN'S CAREER IS TOTALLY OVER, NOBODY WILL WANT TO WORK WITH HIM EVER AGAIN!!! IMO, I have doubts it'll even affect John Showalter's likelihood of working again, and he was allegedly the guy making the call on the ground.

I mean, personally, I think TW was a bizarre, ill-considered clusterfuck starting from conception, through prequelgate and the refusal to say it was an AU because ???, to current lawsuit about allegedly questionable set practices. The only way I could see it having any overarching effect on Jensen's career is if he himself decides to move away from producing, though.

#askboxery #anonymous #anti actor stans #lawsuit #minor anti prequel sentiment #long post

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mariamariquinha · 1 year

Note

Hi!

I wasn't sure if you were taking requests but I thought I would pop one into your ask box anyway!

I hope she's wilder than your wildest dreams

Hey, sweetie! How's it going? Thank u so much for your request!

Before anything, I may add: yes, my blog are always open for requests. I'll take my time to answer them, like this one, but I will! You all can send me anytime! ❤

NOW...

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

She (Colonel Carrillo x f!reader)

(may I add this gif? I love it.)

Summary: He didn't expect you to show up.

Word count: 1.08k

Warnings: Hints of smut, drinking, small glimpse of violence and Horacio per se. He needs his own warning ALWAYS.

Author’s Note: I hope this is what you expected, honey! Thank u again for the request!

And yes.

Carrillo would be a great sub. And he would like it.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

From a very young age, Carrillo was precocious, too mature for his age at the time. As a kid, he had the ideas of a teenager; as a teenager, the ideas of a man. On all these occasions, everything felt more like a projection of what he would be like as an adult, which left him very lost and uncertain of what it all really meant.

Maybe it was because his father had left too soon, forcing little Horacio to do something that before was just a grunt teaching after he fell off his bike or not fighting back the teasing of the older boys at school. Be a man. Be tough.

This led him to look for things that came to define him as a person over the years, all linked to the simple and concise term of stability. In the Army, he was the most organized, obedient, and focused soldier. The best at everything he set out to do, the kind who liked to learn by himself but wouldn't pass up learning from someone who knew more, just for the chance to have more to be good at, trying at all costs to please a father who, if he had been proud of his son earlier, wouldn’t have left.

Horacio became Colonel Carrillo - collected, reserved and who asserted his pomp among his men. A gray zone of leadership that, under no circumstances, was seen as mixed up in the work itself as he was at that moment.

And besides, he didn't expect you to show up.

Among so much confusion, fear and apprehension brought by Escobar, it was common for people to have similar expressions, identical conversations, pessimistic future projections - a constant crossfire that almost always collapsed.

You lived outside of it all, he noticed. Despite what surrounded the news and any corner of Medellín, Horacio only had to lay eyes on you once to know that there was a unique exception. He found out, later, that you had been in Colombia for two years. You helped with extracurricular art classes at some schools on the outskirts and far from civilization, but at night you served drinks and beers to far less pleasant people. Your Spanish was close to impeccable and judging by the way you prostrated yourself at night work, there was more to the story than he would have guessed for you.

Neither you nor he spoke when you first bumped into each other. It had been a rough night for Carrillo and you were certainly busy behind that counter. You didn't serve him. This lack of contact lasted for three or four visits. On the fifth one, he got to know your true nature and only then did you talk.

A guy wanted to go after a colleague of yours, something like that. He reached to grab her by the waist, but not in time to see you arriving like a fulminating machine of anger and protection, using the mastery of your Spanish to tell him to go away. The guy raged, didn't listen to you, and when you saw that no one intervened to help you, the act came alone. A very strong, firm and accurate punch in the middle of his nose. Only one.

Like a warrior goddess. Like a savage with strong hands and a fixed look on your face, without hiding your emotions or fears to make your intentions clear. He followed you with his gaze until you returned to your post at the bar, which you noticed. The two of you looked at each other, that spark ignited, but Horacio was initially quiet as you walked over and placed both hands on your hips.

“Another one?”

He noticed his beer was finished. The only remnant left of the drink was warm, undrinkable.

“Sure.”

And you put another beer in front of him, cold and sweating with the condensation of the hot environment, but you didn't let go right away, surely hoping that Carrillo would stop with the falsely respectful posture of looking away from your breasts, squeezed by the discreet but firm material of the blouse you wore.

He decided to be more discreet, restrained - your right hand was red, right at the knuckles, and he knew it was from the punch you'd just landed on the patron.

“Are you okay?” It took a while for you to catch what he asked, and when it happened, you wiggled your fingers on the counter and looked at them for a moment.

“You should see the other guy.”

“Oh, I did. Where did you learn that?”

“I know someone,” You shrugged, measured his face in silence, then nodded to the beer. “It’ll get warm, Colonel. Better enjoy it now.”

It was unfair, he thought, to see that you knew who he was but it wasn't reciprocated. Horacio started going almost every week and the two of you talked more - never about what was going on, never about bad things, never about who he was or what he did. It didn't take long for Horacio to realize, little by little, that you were some kind of free figure, complete in your mission to be what you were in every way, which might have made him jealous, but just turned him on.

The first night was intense, particularly aggressive even. You took the attitude of kissing him first, of taking him to bed first, and he was left with the function of being dominated by whatever you were. You asked for more, you took more from him, you pushed him to his limits, and with each encounter he began to realize that you were on the same page, using that connection of two worlds so different for a unique, carnal purpose that didn't seem necessary or relevant until that moment.

He craved the sway of your breasts when he thrust hard, the wiggle of your ass when he took you from behind, or how you moaned unreservedly and disguised when he hit the spot. Craving, almost always, for the scratches you left on his back, the bites on his shoulders and thighs, or your soft mouth as you enveloped his cock with eagerness, determined to make him as mindless in pleasure as he tried to make you.

More than that, Horacio began to long for the moments when you were irritated (which were frequent), angry, raging or putting people in their proper place, as if you came from another place, another reality.

A wild figure, definitely. Wilder than his wildest dreams.

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

Taglist

@cheesybadgers

@thesandbeneathmytoes

@616wilsons

@nessamc

@thoroughlymodernminutia

@padbrookcottage

#horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo x reader #female reader #horacio carrillo #colonel carrillo fic #colonel carrillo x reader #colonel carrillo #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #narcos

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sleepingdeath-light · 1 year

Text

blowing off steam ; 18+

requested by ; personifiedpyramidcorner

word count ; 1759

content ; one night stand, dirty talk, degradation, mummy kink, dom!stella, reader still has a penis/she hasn’t had bottom surgery (as stated in original request), reader’s genitals are described as “dick”, “length” and “sex” in case any of those terms are dysphoric for you

fandom ; helluva boss

pairing ; stella goetia x trans woman!reader

read also on ; ao3

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

"You're so fucking pathetic," Stella began, pacing circles around you as you knelt at her feet in the middle of the cheap hotel room, "but at least you know how to do what you're told. Don't you?"

You moved to nod in response, but the aristocrat tutted and seized your chin between her thumb and forefinger, sharp nails digging into your skin as she forced you to meet her eye.

"When I ask you a question, I expect a proper response. Try again,"

"Yes, mummy,"

She smirked darkly at that and released her grip on your face, her movements uncaring and harsh and almost sending you falling backwards onto the rough carpet. Then, smoothing out the feathers on her head, she gestured loosely towards the bed and spoke up in a nonchalant tone.

"Good girl, now strip and get on the bed," and when you hesitated, she glared down at you and spat out an aggressive, "don't make me repeat myself."

And, not wanting to face her wrath (and craving more of her rare praise), you moved to comply. Stumbling clumsily to your feet and hurriedly removing what remained of your daywear — which, given you both being in the Lust ring, wasn't all that much. One by one you unbuttoned and unbuckled the various straps and articles that obscured your body from her scrutinising gaze: your leather harness, translucent bra, lacy thigh highs, tucking underwear and even your choker were all tossed to one side into an uncaring, messy pile of mixed fabrics on the floor. You could feel her eyes following you throughout, dark irises taking in every new inch of skin that you bared to her, admiring and daring you to disobey before you finally shuffled your way onto the thin mattress and laid down on what felt like the centre.

Wilfully ignoring the feeling of a loose spring digging into your shoulder as you watched her approach the bed. Approaching you with an unreadable expression and her arms folded elegantly across her chest as she spoke in that same dark tone that had waves of heat rushing to your core.

"It's nice to have someone actually listen to what I say," Stella began, titling her head to one side as her eyes scanned over your nude form, lingering on your sex for a few moments before flitting back up to meet your gaze, "it's a shame that you're so easy to get off. Aren't you ashamed of how fucking desperate you look? How you don't know anything about me but you're already this hard," she reached down and wrapped a hand around the base of your length and you gasped, "and practically begging me to fuck you. It's sad, really, and if you were in the Pride ring you'd be a fucking laughing stock," she began to slowly pump her hand from foot to tip and you were desperately trying to stop yourself from bucking up into her hand, "well, that or the latest toy. I know a lot of people that would love to have an obedient little cum slut tending to their every whim, always eager to please her mummy,"

Her words were bitingly cruel and bitterly cold, but you couldn't help yourself but to keep moaning and whimpering under her attention. The combination of slow, mounting pleasure and unending verbal degradation was making your mind go blank — which the demoness soon noticed and took full advantage of.

"Honestly look at yourself; how much you're getting off from the barest of touches. Aren't you ashamed of yourself? Have you only been with people who are shit in bed or are you just this sensitive?" Then she gasped with a feigned epiphany and leaned over your body so that she could whisper directly into your ear. "Or am I the best fuck you've ever had?"

The only response you could muster was a whimper and the other woman huffed at that and paused her ministrations — righting her fist around your tip so that you were keening and crying out in a mixture of pain and frustration. Your eyes flew open and you noticed her obvious expectations and corrected yourself accordingly.

"You're the best, mummy, sorry mummy,"

And then she smirked and pecked you on the cheek in a show of faux affection but she didn't continue. No, instead she took a moment to smear the leaking precum over your throbbing head with the pad of her thumb before removing her hand entirely — slowly moving to mount you on the bed and positioning you at her dripping entrance.

"You're gonna show me and everyone else in this hotel how fucking desperate you are for me." she finally began, glaring down at you through her long eyelashes as you whimpered and bucked your hips up against her, "So if you want me to fuck you, you're gonna beg for it and you'd best do a good job or I might just leave you here for someone else to find and take care of. Or maybe you'd like that?"

With the tantalising promise of pleasure and climax so close, you felt what little resolve you had crumbling away as you tearfully looked up at the demoness and began to whimper out pleas for her to touch you. Only for her to demand more: louder, longer, more desperation.

No one "please mummy" was good enough. Every "fuck me, mummy, please" was met with tutting and a threat of her leaving. Each "I need you" was instructed to be louder.

Louder and louder until there were tears streaming down your face and you were screaming out your pleas and digging your fingers into the many skirts of her dress. Begging her to touch you, to move, to let you cum — please, please, please.

"... please mummy!"

And then it was finally, finally, enough for her as she gave a response that had you sobbing with relief before she allowed herself to sink down and take all of your throbbing dick in a single fluid movement. Not giving you the time to recover — from her action or her words — before she started to move, bouncing on your length whilst placing two hands on your shoulders to keep you in place and steady herself.

Taking full control of the pace whilst you were still reeling from being called her "good girl" and unable to do anything but cling to her waist and moan and cuss and whine. Moan out her name and title in the same breath when she rolled her hips down against yours between thrusts; whimper out an incoherent string of pleas when she paused at your tip before sharply descending and taking all of you in a single movement; crying out whorishly whenever you managed to match her pace and she'd reward you with a hushed moan and another rare bit of praise between the constant commentary about your sluttish nature and needy disposition.

Alternating between fast and slow, shallow and deep, but consistently rough and hitting all of the right places for you and her. And when she allowed you to reach beneath her skirts to toy with her clit, everything got even better, somehow — even as her pace began to falter.

You could feel her tightening and fluttering around you more and more with every thrust and bounce, the shift matching with her increase in volume as her dirty talk and moans got louder and louder — and as her nails started to dig into your collarbone to steady herself. She was getting close and you weren’t far behind, the coil in your abdomen tightening in time with the blurring and blotting of your vision as you were wracked with wave after wave of white hot pleasure, need spurred on by both her words and the feeling of her warm, wet pussy swallowing you over and over again.

“That’s it, good girl,” she sighed when you reached up with a tentative hand to start playing with her nipples through the bodice of her shirt, “just like that,”

“You’re already pulsing, hah, are you going to cum already?” She mocked in the shape of a breathy moan, unable to keep her eyes open as her head fell back. “You must really like being used, isn’t that right?” And when you confirmed in a whimper she moaned even louder.

A string of insults escaped her as her voice got breathier and her moans got louder — a sound that mixed beautifully with the wet slapping of your fucking and your own plentiful moans and groans and sighs. Until, finally, she snapped, climaxing with a cry of “oh god” as she soaked you and collapsed forwards, unable to keep up the pace through the haze of her release — relying entirely on you to take the lead as you grasped at her waist and began to clumsily thrust up into her, overwhelmed with your own mounting orgasm as you tried to help her prologue her own high.

Though, thankfully, you didn’t need to deny yourself for long, as Stella was quick to regain some semblance of her composure as she worked you up to the edge and pulled you out just as you came. Jerking your length lazily as you spilled your release all over your thighs and stomach, praising and degrading you in equal measure as you moaned and sobbed and called out for her with such earnest desperation that it made her smile.

Heart pounding. Lungs burning. Skin slick with sweat. Dick throbbing. Limbs turning to jelly and falling limply onto the bed.

Too much and not enough. Craving her even as she carefully guided you as you came down from your high. Unusually tender for the briefest of moments as she checked you were alive.

In the afterglow, as you thanked her appropriately (with a fitting “thank you, mummy”), she’d just nodded and adjusted her dress and feathers — looking herself over a few times in the streaky mirror just adjacent to the bed. Not really acknowledging you as she tried to rid herself as best she could of the evidence of your encounter — not wanting to sully her reputation as her ex husband had.

And, still overwhelmed and slightly fucked-out, you couldn’t bring yourself to care — not when you were still reeling from the best fuck of your life. Besides, it wasn’t as if there was a shortage of demons in the Lust ring who were up for a quick fuck, so you just smiled and watched her walk away, muttering about her ex and reputations and assassins all the way.

#sleepingdeath #helluva boss x reader #trans fem reader #trans woman reader #helluva stella x reader #smut #minors dni #minors fuck off #helluva boss smut #smut fic #read warnings in the content section

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spoonsandsporks · 21 days

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HI <3 polite invitation to talk about your godtier and land thoughts for your characters if you want to!! i am sitting and listening intently :3 <3

Oh my god asfdgdgifgdb you don't know what you've done,,,,,

Long post incoming!!

So quick plug of an old blog that established a lot of my HS godtier opinions early on dahniwitchoflight so you can see a lot of where my context originates (esp. the godtier aspect masterpost) but with that out the way here we go

In terms of godtier opinions, I don't believe in gendered classes. I think that, socially, there may be a bias certain genders may have to certain classes (Muse and Lord, for example). But I don't believe that's an absolute. For one, there are more genders than the binary and people don't always identify as one forever. Secondly, I think to say that, for example, Lord is always aggressive and therefore only men can be Lords is uhhhhhhh,,, very stereotypical and simply doesn't encapsulate the range of human expression. Besides, isn't it more fun for the classes to be non-gendered using gendered human words? Who's to say the game mechanics of SBURB/sgrub are in english? There's gotta be some kind of translation errors or approximations going on in lore lmao

Related to this is that a godtier is meant to be a culmination of a character arc, the end reward of the 'ideal self' a character can be. This is not referring to 'ultimate' selves (i sincerely don't want to touch that concept at all) or even 'morally correct' selves - merely the best kind of self a character would want to be. The best you that you wanna be! Whether that means embracing your flaws or overcoming them, the godtier is the symbol of your growth as a person. Hence why to 'go godtier' you have to fuse your dreamself and awake self together, finally bringing together the two separate experiences you've lived as a player before this; your 'normal' life and your SBURB life. This also follows why death is a consistent theme and in fact needed for godtier ascension. You are killing or accepting the death of your former self in order to ascend into your new self, via combining everything you've learned into everything you'll be. It's supposed to be a positive, if traumatic, experience. Like changing and growing in life already is! Just faster lol

On a brief design point, I do think godtier outfits should also therefore change to fit the wearer and what they're comfortable with. I don't necessarily think that it should be like, witch skirt for girls but trousers for boys, I think that if a godtier outfit is your ideal self it should automatically change into whatever you'd be comfortable wearing. So if someone is a Witch, but doesn't mind wearing a skirt, then they'd ascend into the default Witch outfit. If they then wanted to change it they could through a thought. But if a Witch ascends and they hate skirts or maybe just cannot imagine wearing one then maybe it changes into shorts or something lol. I've actually done some alternate designs of godtiers along this line as it happens which you'll see in this post.

I also like the Aspect counterparts, that each one has an opposite, and while in canon that doesn't have much of an effect on the godtier design beyond the kids, I actually like the accessories and shoes on godtiers taking on the colours of their opposite Aspect. I like that it symbolises that even their opposite has an affect on the Aspect in question.

Now, this is all some lovely prose but what am I going on about? So, like all great and real scientists, I'll use myself as an example first.

...

Me - Sylph of Heart

So I've gone through many, many iterations of godtier introspection (started in Hope, have moved to Heart, Sylph has stayed pretty consistent but I still have doubts) and, of course, being a real life person this is the one that's evolved and changed the most as I have evolved and changed throughout my teens and adult life. But for the sake of analysis, I'll give my 'sona' or 'self-insert' the godtier to separate myself from the analysis and come at this more honestly.

Heart as an Aspect is all about Emotion and the Soul. As the opposite counterpart to the Aspect Mind (which is concerned with the brain, reason and, y'know, the mind lol), Heart players are more impulsive and driven by personal goals. It's all about the Inner Self, the Individual, what makes You Unique as opposed to everyone else in the world. It's Passion, it's Empathy, it's Understanding - about people, mostly. It's about Knowing Yourself and what you like or dislike. Your Heart, in a lot of ways, is the emotional centre and Heart players follow it to a T - and often to the detriment of everything else. It's not inaccurate to say Heart players come across as self-obsessed b/c they are concerned with discovering themselves and their own identity. None of these things come without drawbacks of course and none of this means Heart players don't care about others. They simply assume everyone else is just as obsessed with Finding themselves as they are. I mean, at their best, Heart players are compassionate, imaginative and a steady presence in life. But, uh, at their worst they can come across as dismissive, rigid or nosy lol Personally, as someone very driven by emotion and with a tendancy for introspection, to the point of contantly overthinking my feelings and second guessing my impulses, I feel comfortable in the Heart Aspect.

So Sylphs are talkers. Chatterboxes you could say. They're also one of two 'healer' classes and the active counterpart to Maid. Which yeah I'm aware I have a tendency to ramble. Sylphs are known to love talking about their interests to an audience, whether the audience is interested or not lmao. For a Sylph of Heart, that's mostly concentrated into the subject of Love and Relationships. Sylphs are also nosy little meddlers and so one interpretation of Heart could be a cupid-like matchmaker of sorts. I don't personally see that for myself but it's a valid interpretation.

Personally, I see myself as a person obsessed with Connection and the Relationships that make these connections stable. Friendship, romantic, QPR, you name it, I'm interested in the dynamics. In fiction and in fandom, this makes me a prolific shipper yes haha but most of all I love character interactions. I love filler episodes! And beach episodes! And regency romance! And slice of life isekai anime! B/c all those things prioritise character interaction and personal character arcs over plot or action or whatever haha. I love gentle drama and harmless gossip, I love watching two people get to know each other and be forever changed for having met one another and! I!! Love!!! My!!!! Friends!!!!!!!

Also the sylph outfit is cool af actually. In this image I've actually redesigned it to be a little more gender neutral hence the billowing trousers but I love the no sleeves and the curled shoes and the ribbon-y capelet thing lol. And the bangles!!

I have some ideas for godtier powers but they're not fleshed out yet, but for Sylph of Heart I imagine they'd have to power to 'heal the soul/heart' so to speak. To keep emotions steady in the heat of battle and to help heal mental or emotional wounds. They sound like a support class, like a buffer or healer.

Oh god this got long, I have some ideas for lands but I'll be honest it's almost entirely based on this post from dahni years ago (literally 10 years ago oh gods how long have I been here) b/c i really vibe with it so I have nothing new to really add lol. Maybe there'd be like pink lakes or maybe i'd have a coastal type planet with rough seas that symbolise riding the waves of emotion or something lmao

Hope you enjoyed this brief foray! I'll probably reblog this with a breakdown of the godtiers I've assigned to 4 of my dnd characters I did for fun so you can see my opinions on the Space, Time, Mind and Heart (again) aspects as well as the Maid, Page, Mage and Knight classes too. But for now I need to cook dinner lol

#spoonspeaks #hs #my hs opinions #you sly dog you got me monologuing! <3 #god i hope my non-hs friends don't see this i'm soooooo sorry lol unfortunately i've had Opinions for years and no outlet for them #might end up reblogging this to my art account b/c there's art of me in it but that's a strong might b/c oh boy #should also be said this is all for fun!!!#i didn't mention this in post but i identify as a sylph of heart primarily b/c it's fun and i like the colours and design #like yeah i have a lot of introspection to back up and justify my opinions but also just think i look cool in the outfit lol #assigning yourself a godtier should be fun like making a ponysona from mlp or saying which element you'd bend in atla it's all for fuuuuuun #it's only as deep as you want it to be xxxx #anyway ty voli for enabling me ily (platonic) <333

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 4 months

Text

Long-ish personal story about my job and about music and it sort of slightly connects back to comedy at the end, but only a bit (and unlike most of my personal posts lately, this one isn't even about how difficult it is to not drink alcohol, though it is a story that I'm writing on a Saturday night to distract myself from wanting to drink alcohol, so not entirely unrelated). Regular comedy posting will resume shortly.

There’s this SMBC comic that I really love:

(Source)

I’ve been thinking about this comic lately in a weird way, as I’m nearly six months into this job as a therapist for autistic kids. I don’t write much about my job, partly because it doesn’t have anything to do with the general topic of the blog, partly because I try not to talk about my job much in general due to confidentiality. But we are technically allowed to talk about it in ways that don’t give identifying details, and I have a story I really want to tell, and I don’t think anyone is going to be able to work out which of the hundreds of thousands of kids in Canada I’m talking about from this post on an anonymous blog.

There’s one kid I work with for three hours, three nights a week. He’s ten years old and he’s quite severely impaired in a number of ways; he’s not completely non-verbal but he can only say a few words and doesn’t have the cognitive capacity to express himself well, he understands more words than he can say but he still doesn’t understand anything beyond simple sentences, we’re trying to teach him to read but it’s at extremely early stages, he mostly doesn’t understand what’s happening. He semi-regularly has meltdowns during which he mostly just cries and tries to hurt himself, but can be aggressive against other people too.

He’s someone that people mean when they talk about “low-functioning autistic people” (I know the language is loaded an complicated, but there’s no term for it that isn’t loaded and complicated so I’m going with the clearest one). Most of the clients I work with are. They’re in the “low-functioning autistic” category that I usually hear referenced as a way to invalidate the neurodiversity movement. You know, when higher-functioning autistic people try to claim that autistic people should be treated as fully human and able to self-advocate, and then people will reply that this only applies to high-functioning autistics, but actually there are lots of low-functioning autistics and they’re not fully human, they can’t even talk or understand speech or read or write or dress themselves.

Sometimes I see people reply that of course autistic people can do all those things, and I’m not sure that’s always a helpful reply, because there lots of them who can’t do those things. Who can’t join the neurodiversity movement and self-advocate because they don’t have the cognitive capacity, who do actually need to be taken care of full-time for their own safety and well-being. But I think what we should be arguing is those people are still fully human, it matters how they think and feel, we can still make an effort to not just keep them alive and in line, but to understand them and meet them where they are and see that they have preferences and personalities like anyone else.

When I started this job in August and was trained to take over from this kid’s previous therapist, I was told that music can sometimes keep him in a good mood, so I should bring the centre’s laptop in the room during my sessions with him and play kids’ songs on YouTube sometimes. I asked if they had to be kids songs and was told no, I can experiment and see what he enjoys, the only rule is the lyrics should be clean.

I started this with fairly selfish intentions: I don’t enjoy listening to children’s songs all the time, so I thought I’d see if he liked anything else. I’m not completely selfish; if he’d hated the other stuff, I’d have played the kids’ songs that he likes. But on my first day with him, I put on a couple of the more upbeat and accessible Lennie Gallant songs, and had the absolute pleasure of watching his eyes light up with delight. I could see every tiny moment of the music hitting him, of him processing this thing he’d never heard before, this huge smile spread across his face and he got up and danced. When the song ended, he used one of the very few phrases that he’s able to consistently say with full understanding of what it means: “Put the music back on.”

Lennie Gallant is a folk singer from Rustico, Prince Edward Island, who now lives in Nova Scotia, and those are all places on the East Coast of Canada. Canada’s East Coast has a huge folk music tradition, including a lot of Celtic music that comes from the Celtic immigrants there (by and large, Scottish immigrants to Nova Scotia, particularly the island of Cape Breton off the Nova Scotian coast, and Irish immigrants to Newfoundland), but also a lot of stuff that’s developed in its own way in Canada. From when I was very young, my dad raised me on Canadian folk music in general, but particularly a lot of East Coast music, I’ve gone to folk festivals with him every summer since I was too young to talk. Lennie Gallant has been one of my favourite singers for nearly 25 years. To give an idea of how true this is, my parents currently have a cat named Rustico, because they let me name it, and I went with Lennie Gallant’s hometown as my inspiration.

I remember the first time I heard Lennie Gallant. I was nine years old, we were sitting in the living room, my dad put on the new Lennie Gallant Live album and Pull of the Fundy Tide started playing. And I remember how it felt. It felt like I’d never heard anything like it. There was so much going on. I closed my eyes and couldn’t process how much I liked it, and I made him play it again. If I try really hard when I put the song on now, I can still feel that.

It was so fucking cool to watch the same thing happen to this kid on that night, but this time I was on the other side of it. I watched him struggle to take it in, to have a whole new concept of what music can be opened up to him. He wanted to hear it over and over. I kept playing different Lennie Gallant songs, he kept playing and smiling and dancing.

In folk music there's a basic dichotomy between the stuff that's more trad or less trad (I mean, I guess that's true in any genre), more trad meaning less production and either no lyrics or very traditional lyrics and less of a beat and lots of other factors. So I figured as long as I stick to the less trad side of my collection, I can play this kid anything, I don't need to make it children's music. Over the next few weeks, I kept playing him my more accessible stuff. This, for example, was his favourite:

youtube

Another great Nova Scotia singer, Dave Gunning, has a couple of Christmas albums, which I figured are good crossover between folk music and music that's for kids. So I started playing him some of Dave Gunning's Christmas songs, which he also loved. Then one day, while trying to navigate back to the Christmas album, I accidentally touched this song, and put it on:

youtube

It's a medley of fiddle tunes off this great album that Dave Gunning did called A Tribute to John Allan Cameron, John Allan Cameron being a legendary Cape Breton singer who popularized traditional Celtic music in Canada, so a lot of that album is further to the trad side than most other stuff Dave Gunning does. When I accidentally put on the medley of fiddle tunes for a ten-year-old I was trying to entertain, I quickly realized my mistake and went to pause it until I could find the Christmas stuff.

But in that moment I saw his face, and a whole new sense of recognition was spreading across it again. Just like that first day when I put on music for him, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing, but loved it. Breaking slowly into a huge smile, snapping his fingers along to it. When I pressed pause, he said "Put the music back on," so I did.

After that, I set out to find just how trad I can go with this kid. I found out, pretty fucking far. Butterfingers Medley is actually pretty accessible as far as medleys of fiddle tunes go, but I tried playing him slower and more complicated and/or traditional fiddle tunes, and he enjoyed all of them. Then I tried playing Gaelic-language stuff, and this induced a whole new wave of shock and amazement at how beautiful it was, he could not get enough. One day he was "scripting" - which is the word for when autistic kids will repeat phrases they've previously heard (usually from a TV show or more likely a YouTube show these days, sometimes they repeat phrases that their parents or teachers have said, it can be anything they've heard before) under his breath around another therapist, and she asked me if I knew what he was saying because she couldn't figure it out, so I got closer to him to listen, and then had to tell her that the reason she couldn't understand him is he was speaking Gaelic. Specifically, scripting the lyrics to this beautiful song by Cape Breton band The Rankin Family:

youtube

I tried as hard as I could to go too trad for this kid, just because I was curious to see what the boundaries were. I played him the most out-there thing in my music collection, which was the Barra MacNeils' (another great Cape Breton band) Mouth Music, and he fucking loved it:

youtube

This kid is the best. At some point I did abandon my quest to find the boundaries of what music he'll like, and just started trying to put together a playlist of his favourite stuff. Because he doesn't indiscriminately love everything. Sometimes I'll put stuff on and he won't be that into it, and there is a pattern to what he likes and what he doesn't, but the pattern isn't, as I'd initially expected, that he likes the most accessible stuff and dislikes the most traditional stuff. Or that he likes the faster stuff and dislikes the slower stuff (if anything, it tends to be the opposite of that). The pattern is that he likes some things in music more than others, just like any other person does, and even if he can't have conversations about that more complex than just saying "Put the music back on" after songs he likes and not saying that after songs he dislikes, that is still enough for him to communicate those preferences. Which is where I come back to the idea that even the "low-functioning" people still have fully formed personalities, which obviously I knew full well before I played some music for a kid at work, but this sort of thing seems like a good example for people who don't know it already.

He's got a fairly broad palette, though, and it does include some of the faster songs that sound like the sort of thing a kid would be into. I wish I could have legally taken a picture of his face (I can't because confidentiality) the day I first played him this one:

youtube

My job is stressful and scary, both due to the nature of the job and due to the nature of me, specifically the part of my nature that gets easily overwhelmed and I am constantly terrified that the next day will be too much and I'll have a panic attack at work from the social overload and then I'll get fired. It's not easy, and I haven't managed to find a lot of the "rewarding" parts of an allegedly rewarding job like this, because I'm so focused on just getting through the day. But this is one part of the job that I have really, really loved. I love getting to play music for this kid and watch him be amazed at the existence of something he never knew about before.

And that's what makes me think of the SMBC comic. I've actually been thinking a lot lately about my own dad, how he raised me on this music. How he took me to a folk festival every year since before my first birthday, and he played me his favourite music in the living room when I was too young to know the words to have a conversation with him about it, but I'm sure my body language let him know what I liked, just like this kid does with me. Some of my earliest memories are of my dad singing me to sleep with folk songs when I was three and four years old, because I refused to sleep due to "the world going upside down and almost explode" every time I closed my eyes (I was first diagnosed with an anxiety disorder at age 8, which seems young until you consider that it was four years after I started telling my parents that I can't sleep at night because it makes me feel like the world is going upside down and is about to explode). My dad's singing got me to sleep, it got into every aspect of my head.

I've always been really grateful to my dad for the way he introduced me to music so early, gave me a love of it. I feel lucky that I get to trace my favourite music back through my whole life. My favourite songs and artists and albums from when I was five years old, and eight years old, and ten years old, and twelve years old, and fifteen years old, are still among my favourites today.

When I play music for this kid, I bring back my early memories, of the first time I heard my favourite songs, when I was young and everything still felt new to me. I remember the amazement that music could sound like this, that something this good could exist, that the range of potential human feelings included all these new things that I was experiencing for the first time because of this song. I remember that, and I know from the look on his face that that's what this kid is feeling right now, as I play him a new song for the first time.

But I also bring back my early memories of my dad. I remember the look on his face as I ran around the living room dancing to The Rankins and The Barra MacNeils and The Irish Descendants when I was a kid. I remember his smile, how proud he looked when I liked stuff, how he'd dance with me, he'd excitedly tell me to listen closely before putting on the next song, because he couldn't wait to see my reaction. I don't think I understood until this year how special that was for him too, to get to share this with me. Because it's the way I feel when the smile of amazement passes across this kid's face during a new song.

And of course it was amazing for my dad to get to share that with me! We all love that! This is everyone is desperate to give music recommendations to anyone who will listen, because it feels really, really good to take something that induced a good feeling in you and watch it induce that same feeling in someone else, especially if you can know you're the reason why that's happened. I am currently writing an entire post just as an excuse to give people a bunch of recs for my favourite music (and to avoid thinking about wanting a drink). Of course that feeling is special. Of course it made my dad happy to do that for me. Zach Weinersmith of SMBC comics wrote that nice comic strip about how that's one of the best parts of being a parent.

That's all been happening for months now, and the kid has heard most of my best stuff. I've developed a couple of playlists for him - one for when I want to get his energy up and put on something upbeat, and one for when I want him calmer. It has a range of stuff, and I try to mix it up. I know his preferences now, I know what his favourite songs are and what they have in common so how to guess if he'll like a new one or not. And he doesn't look amazed when they play anymore, because he now knows that music like this exists. But he still smiles, and dances, and says "Put the music back on", and loves them.

One day last week, he was struggling hard. Crying off and on, and I was doing all the things that normally help: turning down the lights in the room, stepping back to give him space, soft and soothing music. But he kept getting upset.

I was alone in the gym with him when he had a meltdown that was worse than any I'd dealt with before. He started banging his head against the wall, and it scared the hell out of me, because of course I don't want him to hurt himself. I blocked it with a mat and he came after me, scratching my arms and hitting me. He pushed away and screamed.

I turned the lights down and grabbed my phone to try some music. Music had gotten us out of bad situations before. During the worst meltdown I'd seen him have before last week, I finally got him to calm down by putting on The Mingulay Boat Song off Dave Gunning's John Allan Cameron album, I just played it on a loop until he sat down on his knees and closed his eyes to take in the music and slowly stopped crying:

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But since then I've played that song for him lots, it doesn't have the same impact as it did when it was a novelty. It worked the first time because I was able to induce that "Wow, I didn't know music could sound like this" feeling in him, and that'll distract a person from anything. But he knows music can sound like that now. He knows all my music, or at least, all my music that could be at all appropriate for this situation.

Well, he knows almost all my music. Because as I was starting to panic and look to my phone to decide what to play for this kid who was scratching at me and posed a threat to his own safety (because "head banging" sounds like one of the less severe behaviours, at least compared to behaviours that involve committing violence against others, until you actually see a kid do it and realize how badly they can hurt themselves if you don't block it), I realized I did have a new folder in there.

And this is where the post comes back around to my usual topic. Did you think I'd finally taken a break from the constant posts about John Robins to write a heartfelt story about my history with music and connecting with a child at my job? Nope! This was secretly a John Robins post all along.

So, in one of the radio episodes, John Robins listed his top five favourite albums of all time. Van Morrisson's Astral Weeks at number one (Elis specifically checked with him that he really means number one of all time, better than all Queen albums, and he said yes), and 2-5 were: In the Aeroplane over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel, I See a Darkness by Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, Ghosts of the Great Highway by Sun Kil Moon, and Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven by Godspeed You! Black Emperor. Obviously I wrote all those down and downloaded them, because I am a normal person who is not too far down a fandom rabbit hole.

Van Morrisson, weirdly, was actually my first ever favourite singer. In that when I was three years old, the first time I was old enough to have any kind of preference, my favourite thing to do was run around the living room dancing to this album called Irish Heartbeat by Van Morrisson & The Chieftains. My favourite song on the album was Step Be Gaily, a song that is actually called Marie's Wedding, but when I was three I called it Step Be Gaily because that's how the first line of the chorus sounded to me (it's actually "Step we gaily"), so my whole family still calls the song Step Be Gaily. The song is still in my music collection and it's still great.

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I spent years listing Van Morrisson as a singer I very much liked. Until I was about ten, and my parents told me that since I like Van Morrisson so much, they'll play me some of his other stuff. And I quickly learned that actually, I do not like Van Morrisson. What I like is a Celtic folk band called The Chieftains, and the one album they made in collaboration with Van Morrisson, who is otherwise quite a blues-y and R&B-type singer and I'm not into that. I did try the Astral Weeks album on John Robins' recommendation, and I did not like it, because that's not my kind of music, but I'm glad the people who like it are having a good time.

The other four albums were different, though. I already knew some of the songs off the Bonnie 'Prince' Billy one, but listening to the whole album turned out to be a great idea, I've added it into my common rotation. Neutral Milk Hotel was exactly what I'd always assumed Neutral Milk Hotel would be, from years of vaguely hearing about them but not actually hearing them, which was ranging from all right to pretty good. The Sun Kil Moon album I quite like, and I'm still in the process of listening to some of its songs again because I feel like it's the sort of thing that rewards repeat listens.

The Godspeed You! Black Emperor album was exactly as weird as you'd expect from a band with a punctuation mark in the middle of their name, that made an album with four tracks that are 20-ish minutes each. Experimental music isn't normally my sort of thing, but I gave it a shot because John Robins told me to, and I was glad I did.

I tried listening to the first track while on a break at work, lying in the hammock that they have in their gym, closed the doors and closed my eyes and played my noise canceling headphones and tried to feel like I was at home so that I could recharge my social battery a bit and lessen the risk of overloading to the point where I have a panic attack at work and get fired. This song started and it was all weird and experimental and I didn't know what to make of it, but as it went a bit further in (like I said, each track is around twenty minutes so there are lots of changes throughout each one), it got to a part that was really lovely and relaxing. I closed my eyes and let it wash over me and it did, actually, help me to stop feeling all the stress of the job and transport me to some state of mind where this wasn't happening and it was okay.

I probably don't really have to write the rest of this story, because now that I've written the various parts of the backstory, I'm sure you can guess the ending. I needed a song that a kid who loves music would find beautiful and relaxing enough to calm him down, but the regular ones weren't working because he was too upset, and I thought the only way to solve it might be to induce that feeling of "Oh my God I had no idea music could sound like this", to distract him with the shock of novelty. I also had a song that I'd never played for him before because even I had only recently discovered it, and I barely knew what to make of it, but I did know it was amazingly relaxing.

So I put it on, and he stopped in his tracks, and I watched him tilt his head while he considered what he was hearing, and in that moment of quiet I managed to get him to sit down on the hammock, and I turned the lights all the way down and closed the doors to the gym, and I sat in front of him and rocked him very slowly and gently, and then of his own accord he went from sitting in the hammock to lying in it, and I played the music softly. After a few minutes he stopped crying altogether, and I hit pause on my phone, and he said "Put the music back on," so I did, playing that section of the song over for half an hour, just me and him sitting the gym listening to this weird band I got from a comedian on the radio, blood drying on my hands and my arms from where he'd scratched me, until his dad came to pick him up.

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And that's my story. I wrote this instead of drinking alcohol. Sometimes my job is fulfilling. Autistic people are people, even the ones with a significantly lower cognitive capacity than neurotypical people. John Robins' taste in music is a mixed bag. I hope everyone is having a good night.

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