#and reflecting on how good and easy it is

[wifes-xxx]

There have been moments, especially when we open our hearts to a husband , where you have felt a distance between you. I know It's as if the door to your heart opens just halfway, holding back parts of you out of fear, caution, or maybe something you now can't quite understand. It struck you deeply like a slap, and you couldn't help but fee this realisation, it sounds like you are being self centred "I can't believe you would be someone so selfish. That you cant give yourself over completely to your relationship. What a dried up and broken woman you have become"

The beauty of exploring love languages and embracing our vulnerabilities lies in their reflection of real-life relationships. These concepts encourage us to examine our own connections, fostering a deeper understanding and appreciation for the complexities of love. It's an invitation to reflect on how we communicate affection and how we can better align with our loved ones, paving the way for more fulfilling relationships

Have you noticed sometimes when you do want it from a your guy , it almost feels like you’re invisible to him?

Are you nodding along?

Has this happened to you?

You already know you’re smitten. With your husband, only…you’re not bold and slutty, so you don’t feel comfortable just walking over and dropping to your knees and unzipping his pants and pulling it out, or telling him that you’re horny and need fucking… now!

So what can you do because you know it’s insulting to him for you to be a boring prude?

It’s fairly easy to get attention, but that doesn’t in any way guarantee that he will want to fuck you. Just something to be aware of. Once you have his attention, you’ll want to really notice what his reaction to you is. Does he smile while listening to every word, or is he busier checking his phone than talking to you? The sharper your observation skills, the less time you waste on knowing how to please him.

Grow up…you’re acting like you’re in middle school. You’re not. There are better, high-value ways to get his attention. Be his wife, his woman and his lover. Show him what you have and let him enjoy you.

Never be boring or distant.

Instead make yourself interesting and be interested in him and his desires. Learn what makes him hard.

Think of each moment like the dating game, you may be insecure about flirting or expressing your interest. It will take practice, but you’ve got this! Show some sexual aggression and really let him know what you have in mind. Use your brain. Or play open docile and ditzy. If it makes him hard and your feeling horny and wet, know in your heart its working for you. Remember that.

Be his good girl a figure out what turns him on and makes him hard, and interested. Usually, within a few minutes of conversation and , you can deduce this. Obviously, look for a bulge, but also keep an eye out for signs of breast gaze and lip gazing what part of your body is he focused upon! Display yourself with abandon like the women these men look at on Tumblr. They are interested atvtmhem for a reason. Forgot you self and think about why men masturbate to these kind of women pictures.

Let it change you prudish self.

Keep the conversation going once you have his attention, and make it clear that you’re not just being normal friendly (you’re being flirty friendly!). Use your language in and out of the bedroom to keep him engaged.

“You make me so wet”

“Never Stop”

“That feels amazing”

“Does that feel good?”

“I can feel your dick throbbing”

“I want you here right now”

“I want You so bad”

“I was thinking about you today”

“ oh fuck me, Just Like That”

“You make me want to scream”

“Fill me up”

” I'm curious honey what porn makes you. Hard“

“Fuck me like you mean it”

“Harder”

“I feel tiny in your arms”

“I love you”

“I love your dick”

“I want your cum”

“Kiss Me”

“Make me cum baby”

“Seeing you right after a workout”

“Taste Me”

“Your cock is stretching me out”

“I'm not wearing my panties today“

Feel free to share you favourites with me.

Oh God, this felt amazingly good to write. I am sooo ready for him.

S_XXX

[shellxrls]

— r. cameron / reader

warnings: DUBCON — rafe roofies and then rapes reader / unprotected PinV / misogyny / mention of drugs (cocaine & roofies) / mention of virginity / inspiration taken from maddy & nate (euphoria)

synopsis: rafe cameron x fem!reader… sometimes rafe needs to slip a girl a little something at a party to get some, and where’s the shame in that if he knows they want him anyway, they’re just too prudish to admit it.

After you’ve successfully been dosed, he makes you sit on his lap for lack of space on the couch so he can rock you on his knee until you’re tired, delirious, and horny enough to be lifted upstairs, legs dangling against his broad back while you hiccup and giggle next to your upside-down view of his chest.

His nose is numb from the coke and his brain heady, one could argue almost as inebriated as you. But the lines make him oversaturated, not cock-dumb like what he slipped you — eager hands already pawing at his zipper and coming to a fumbled close around the metal just before you’re tossed onto a bed, spread aloof like the crumpled sheets.

“You’re sooo nice to me Rafe.. when all the other guys were sayin’i shoulda gone home,” you end with a belligerent nod of your head, slurring throughout and biting your lip in sexless embarrassment, chewing the skin raw enough to reflect your torn consciousness instead.

Rafe simply smirks, chin protruding outwards while his eyes flit between your thighs peeking through your overridden dress and your tits falling out of the frilly décolletage.

“You a virgin?”

“Mhm” you lie, despite the reeling dizziness occupying your headspace. Besides, nobody likes a whore — especially not rafe, uninterested in ‘stretched out pussy’ as you vaguely recall from his earlier conversation crowded around friends.

He approaches closer now, knocking your trembling knees apart with one of his beefy thighs, bulge forward and creasing in his pants as your dialogue gets him hard already, imposing his physicality in all its glory: “What like— you’ve never even been fingered before?”

You shake your head, tousling curls before staring back up at him, “Only my own.”

To that he chuckles, the noise grating and stunted when he uses it as an excuse to adjust himself in his pants, drawing his chest down further until he’s now hovering above you.

“Uh y’know,” he tongues at his cheek, “I could take care of that for you, practically all spread open an’ready huh?”

Like it wasn’t his plan to get you dumb and stuffed by the end of the night, even if it meant bringing out his inner brute, he was taller, faster, stronger — he could do it if he really wanted, but he made it easy for you instead. Could feel the roofie worming its way into your consciousness, jamming rationality and flooding you with hedonistic desire that would trigger your sex endorphins and make it so that you would want this, that he could brag about it without you opening your bitch mouth the next day and claiming ‘rape’; an ugly word anyways, coming out harsh in a spit, nothing like what rafe was doing to you, especially not with the way you were looking at him.

Your mouth opens, then closes, seemingly flailing on confirmation when really your jaw is getting slack and numb, and so you feel encouraged to nod instead, the movement making your thoughts go all bubbly, refracting Rafe’s glinting eyes at your ‘consent’.

He wastes no time with prep, shoving your dress up so it’s tucked over your tits, basal temperature remaining warm and stuffy despite the exposure to cool air. A good indicator though, means rafe can tell it’s working, and just how long he has before you might start struggling.

When he pulls himself out of his shorts it’s surprising, of course, everything about him is pretty, one would expect a tangible reflection of the cruelty on his features but instead, his dick looks cutesy, if not for the intimidating size.

Spit trickles harshly down his palm when he wraps a hand around himself, tugging quickly and using both his legs to split you around his midriff, leaking and achy despite the inattention you’ve received.

“You want this dick so fuckin’ bad huh,” he laughs at the puddle of arousal leaking out underneath you, considers swiping a finger into it to stick into your mouth but he doubts you’d be able to breathe right now if he interfered with the half catatonic features on your face, and it’s not like he’s out for that type of violence anyways (or at least not right now).

When he pushes himself inside you’re silent, pupils retreating in favour of a squeal — ironically a very Rafe-esque trait — while Rafe bites down into his cheek and rolls his palm over your chest to ease the pressure of the fit.

“Thought the roofie woulda loosened you up a bit..” mumbled out while his stomach clenches, now bracing his entire heavy arm across your abdomen and pinching skin when you involuntarily quiver at the weight, “You can take it c’mon.”

He thrusts hard and uncoordinated, fucking like he knows he’s hot, or at least how many more pills he has left in his stash. Knocking against your insides and entirely focused on the way his dick feels, knowing how easily he could move onto another victim, and just how much he wants to enjoy you in particular before it’s over.

Sweat clings to both your bodies, the slick getting louder when each thrust manages to pound a squelch out of you, spattering against the sheets or catching on Rafe’s balls to stick the both of you together with messy tendrils.

You’re pliant, let him move your legs so your ankles entwine behind his back, heavy hand locking them together and giving you both little breathing room; just enough for him to spill obscenities straight into your emotionless face with hot, sticky breath — he laughs, manically and seemingly at his own joke, before deciding to share it with you, “just don’t go running ‘bout me ‘assaulting’ you right. You wanted this, not my fault my cock’s so good the slut has to go dumb hmm?” mocking you with a teasing lilt and a raised brow.

You pat at his swollen chest, it’s all you can manage to do, urgent to get him off you, give you a little space atleast. He only shoves himself in further, lips puckering to sloppily catch yours, saliva straying down your chin and jaw instead.

Your outright discomfort seems to get him going even more, thrusts increasing in increment despite becoming more careless, tip catching your clit when he slips out and hurries to stuff it back in.

When his face pinches up, brows tensed and nose furrowed, you can tell he’s going to cum, the friction between your bodies almost unbearable with the heat that suddenly envelops him.

A slew of curses are hissed out, casual vulgarity being one of Rafe’s favourite expressions of self, and then he’s pulling out and wrapping a fist around himself to paint your tummy white. Ropes shooting watery on your tummy and painting him a proud picture.

He shakes himself off on you a final time before tucking his wet dick back into his briefs, cleaning himself up entirely unbothered by the dissected mess of you laying drugged and fucked out on the bed.

“My head feels funny.”

“Yeah, that’s cause I fucked it out of whack.” He says it serious but you can imagine his upturned lips at his own sick sense of humour.

“Where are you going?” you sit up groggy, chest tight.

“Uhh, back downstairs, got some more yayo I needa lay off— you can stay here or.. wherever, doesn’t matter.”

He has the decency to shut the door fully when he leaves, yet you’re still alone and forced to lay in the waste of one of Rafe Cameron’s nights out.

[reidmania]

slow it down | s.reid

summary; when life feels like its moving too fast and you feel like you're falling behind, spencer is there to slow it down.

warnings; i kind of feel like this is occ.. fem reader, established relationships, feeling like your falling behind in life, overwhelmed, insecurity, comforting wise spencer, i lowkey feel like this is kinda cringe but IDK.. self reflection

an; um.. so i am so sorry for neglecting you guys lately.

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, fingers tracing over a stack of old photos from years that somehow feel closer and farther away than they should. The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room, but you can’t seem to feel it. It’s like you’re living in fast-forward, like everyone around you has figured out the secret to living, and you’re just scrambling to catch up. There’s a constant hum in the back of your mind, a quiet sense of urgency that keeps telling you, You’re falling behind.

And then there’s Spencer. Reliable, steady, intelligent Spencer, with his endless curiosity and his warm, steady gaze. Sometimes, you think he sees the world at a slower pace. He notices the way the trees change color in the fall, the way the clouds drift lazily across the sky, the way your breathing hitches when you’re overwhelmed. You’re not sure how he does it — how he lives in a world where time is patient, gentle even.

“Hey,” his voice breaks the quiet as he steps into the room, soft but firm, pulling you back to reality. “I noticed you didn’t sleep much last night.”

You give a small shrug, brushing the hair out of your face. “Just… thinking. That’s all.”

He sits beside you, close but not overwhelming, his presence grounding. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You’re not sure where to begin. There’s so much tangled up inside — the worry about where you’re going, the guilt of not doing enough, the fear that everyone else is moving forward while you’re stuck in place. It’s all too big, too heavy, and it clings to you like a second skin.

“Sometimes,” you say, staring down at your hands, “it feels like I’m watching everyone else live their lives at this… impossible speed. Like they’re running ahead, and I’m trying so hard to keep up, but I just… can’t.”

He watches you with that familiar look of quiet understanding, as though he’s absorbing every word. “I know it feels like that. But you’re doing more than you think, even if it doesn’t feel that way. Life isn’t a race, no matter what it seems like.”

You smile a little, but it’s strained. “Easy for you to say. You’re Dr. Spencer Reid. You’ve got three Ph.D’s.” It was unfair, you knew life wasn’t easy on him. He didn’t mind, he didn’t take offence at your insecurity.

His laugh is soft, a bit self-conscious. “It’s not always about how much you’ve done, you know. It’s about… what’s meaningful to you. And the world can feel fast because it’s busy and loud, but that doesn’t mean it’s moving faster than you can handle.”

You let his words sink in, wanting to believe them. He’s always been so good at that — seeing things in a way you can’t, finding meaning in moments you’d overlook. You think back to all those quiet mornings with him, sipping coffee while he reads, or the way he’ll point out little details in the most ordinary things. He lives with intention, like every second holds something worth noticing. “Teach me how to do that,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “How to… slow down, like you do.”

He shifts a little closer, his arm draping over your shoulders. “We can start now, if you’d like.”

“Here?” you ask, a little surprised.

“Why not?” He gives a small shrug, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your shoulder. “The world outside can wait a little. Right now, it’s just us.”

So, you close your eyes, focusing on the warmth of his hand, the even rhythm of his breathing beside you. He begins to talk, softly, almost to himself, about the small things that make up the moment — the softness of the sheets, the faint sound of birds outside, the warmth of the sunlight coming through the window. It’s strange, hearing him describe the world like this, like a piece of poetry instead of a rush of responsibilities. And slowly, something shifts within you. You’re not sure if it’s because of his voice or his hand on your shoulder, but the weight on your chest starts to ease.

“Sometimes,” he says, “I think we get caught up in thinking life has to be monumental, or it has to mean something big. But there’s value in the small moments too, even the ones where you feel like nothing is happening.”

You open your eyes and look at him. His gaze is soft, steady, like he’s known this all along but has been waiting for you to see it too. “You really believe that?”

“More than anything,” he nods, his hand slipping down to intertwine with yours. “And maybe if we slow down, even just a little, we can find that there’s more here than we thought.”

He suggests you both go for a walk. At first, you resist — it feels like there’s no time for that. But then you see the gentle insistence in his eyes, and you let yourself give in. Outside, the air is crisp, and the leaves are beginning to change, painting the trees in vibrant shades of red and gold. You wouldn’t have noticed it on your own, but Spencer points it out, marveling at the colors like it’s the first time he’s seen them.

The path winds through a quiet park, and he takes his time pointing out things you’d usually ignore: the sound of a squirrel rustling in the bushes, the faint smell of pine, the way the sunlight filters through the branches. You begin to feel your mind quiet, your worries slipping away as you take in each small moment.

“See?” he says, smiling as he catches you watching a butterfly flutter past. “The world doesn’t have to be rushing by. We just have to choose not to rush with it.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel yourself relax. You’re not falling behind. You’re not racing to catch up. You’re just here, in this moment, with Spencer beside you, and that’s enough.

After the walk, you both settle into a quiet cafe nearby. There’s no agenda, no rush, just the simple joy of being together. You sip your coffee slowly, tasting it in a way you usually don’t, letting each sip warm you from the inside. Across the table, Spencer is reading a book, but every now and then, he glances up, meeting your eyes with a quiet smile. It feels easy, natural, as though the world outside the cafe doesn’t even exist.

The afternoon stretches on, a lazy, unhurried thing, and you find yourself wishing that every day could be like this — free from the pressure to be something, to achieve something. Just… peaceful.

“I think I could get used to this,” you say, looking out the window, watching people stroll by without a care in the world.

“Then let’s make it a habit,” he replies softly, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. “Slow days. Just us. Whenever you need it.”

“Really?” you ask, a little surprised. “Even with your job? With everything you have going on?”

He nods, his gaze steady. “Life doesn’t have to be all or nothing. I want to be there for you. To be here, with you. No matter what else is going on.”

For the first time, you feel a sense of calm settle over you, like maybe — just maybe — you don’t have to keep running to be enough. That there’s space in this world for you to slow down, to take things one step at a time. And knowing that Spencer is by your side makes it all feel possible, in a way it never has before.

You lean across the table, resting your head on his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent. “Thank you, Spencer. For… reminding me.”

He smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Always. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. I’m here, and we’ll figure it out together. One slow day at a time.

As you sit there, nestled against him, you let yourself believe that it’s true — that life doesn’t have to be a race, that you’re allowed to live at your own pace, to notice the small things, to savor each moment as it comes.

For the first time in a long time, you feel yourself slow down, the endless rush in your mind finally quieting. And in that silence, you find something you didn’t even realize you were missing: a sense of peace, of belonging, of knowing that right here, in this moment, you are exactly where you’re meant to be.

[eudemonia13]

In Bloom

Asmodeus x Reader

Fluff. W.C. 2348

Asmo learns just how much you adore him with the help of human world flower language

Asmodeus liked the Winter.

He liked how the blanket of snow, untouched and perfect, looked like angel down. How the beautiful white hydrangeas were captured in a frosted moment of stillness, as close to being immortalised as he would ever be. Glittering beneath the pale moon like stars fallen from the sky.

He liked the breathlessness that caught his lungs when the cold wind danced through his hair, the tremble of his hands as he took fistfulls of powdery snow and felt his nerves protest before they grew numb.

There was beauty in it, a kind that was out of reach lest it melt from even the gentlest touch. Like a snowflake resting on his fingertip, no matter how cold he willed his blood to run, it would always melt. A beauty that would fade if he held it, no matter how many times he reached out. He smiled, because there was beauty in that yearning too.

Tonight there was no such comfort. It was hot, loud, and buzzing with the energy of lust and passion coursing through the streets. Early in his life he had learned, summer was hot no matter the realm.

Whether it was the ticklish kiss of endless light in the Celestial gardens, or the jewel blues and ivory whites that stretched to the horizon of a human world beach, or even the promising, rich darkness of the Devildom as lights flashed and sweet perfume mingled with smoke like an aphrodisiac, all had a exhilarating energy. All felt like young love, like sugar and sticky lips, and whispered secrets he really should have kept.

In the middle of it all, posed effortlessly beneath an illuminated bar sign, Asmodeus stood waiting more impatient by the minute.

Really, he knew better.

Craning his neck down to steal a glimpse at his D.D.D, and another not thirty seconds later, like the entire street didn’t have him in their sights. Like every perfect, irresistible inch of him wasn’t being watched. Not that a tilt of his head and a pout didn’t look good, he was sure anyone with eyes would be falling over themselves to witness such a cute sight, let alone be the cause of it… But that wasn’t the point. He didn’t chase, he didn’t stand outside any club waiting. He didn’t have to show up 20 minutes early to any date. He was Asmodeus.

All it took was a smile and a pretty bat of his eyes and he had anything, anyone he wanted. But that didn’t matter, because you saw straight through him.

You, a pretty little human with a heart as impenetrable as ice. A human with eyes as sharp as a knife, and a mind to match. You, the quick witted, daring little lambwho had convinced him to give himself to you for just a chance to get close enough to lose himself in the enigma that you were.

His master, who cut him down like it was nothing with those piercing eyes. You treated him like he was anybody else. It didn’t matter that seduction was dripping from his tongue when he called your name, or that his hands hinted at all the wonderful things he could do to you when he painted your nails and traced his name into your palm…

That wasn’t enough for you, you didn’t want quick and easy pleasure, or to reap the benefits that would come with sleeping with him. You didn’t want him, not like that, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. For the first time in his life, the beautiful mask he wore couldn’t hide the things he buried beneath the surface. . . .

“So tell me, have all your needs been met during your stay with us?” He smiled, massaging a luxurious cream into his hands. You were in bed, relaxing in the shared guest room of the Demon lord's castle. His eyes drifted along your form through the reflection of his vanity. Taking in every dip and curve of your body, draped beneath the vermillion blanket that made it so much more fun to imagine what was underneath. “For the most part. It took me a while to get used to no sun, my sleep schedule has been a wreck.” Your voice was soft and a little bit hoarse, no doubt weakened by the eventful day behind you and the pull of sleep.

Simeon had left to look after Luke, which was fine by Asmo, having a moment alone with you was rare. Mammon had been clinging to you like a wet blanket, hovering around you from the moment you had made him yours. Though he hated to admit it, Lust and Greed had more in common than one might think. Both of them wanted.

“Hm, I’d hate to see that delicate skin of yours become dull, Little lamb… If you aren’t sleeping, there are more than a few ways to pass the time and wear you out.” He smiled at you, holding your gaze while trailing his hand down his forearm, and under his robe. You smiled at him and shook your head. “Haha, I’m good thanks.”

The heavy silence that had settled was cut by the chime of your notifications going off. With a stretch, you patted your arm around and reached for your D.D.D. “So, uh…” He didn’t look up, letting you continue.

But you didn’t. This wasn’t something he was used to, people were stunned by his beauty, yeah, blessed by his presence… But no compliments fell from your lips, no dreamy look glossed over your eyes, and his oh so tempting offer hadn’t stolen your breath. Were you scared? Ah, how cute!

Before he could say anything, your D.D.D chimed again and you turned your attention to your screen. A scowl quickly formed on your face, but even in the dim candlelight, he could see the affection in your eyes.

“That dummy…” You sat up and typed back a message to, undoubtedly, Mammon. Fighting to keep a smile off your face.

Instead of speaking, he looked away. What did Mammon have that brought you out of your shell? What could his annoying, loud, stupid older brother have that made you smile like that? And why didn’t you smile at him like that? Didn’t you see him? The Avatar of Lust! In nothing but a satin robe! All alone in your bedroom, and you were paying attention to Mammon?

Lust, and Greed… Even in the darkness, he was certain you could see the shimmer of sin in his eyes. But you didn’t look at him again. . . .

It was fifteen minutes now. Fifteen long, slow minutes until you would meet him. Flicking open his compact mirror, he studied the glittery eyeshadow he had dusted over his lids. It enhanced the natural draw of his eyes, which he hoped would keep your eyes on his. He understood, of course, that he didn’t have to impress you but he was still, well, he was still Asmo.

A little glitter, a little flirting, that was who he was! But you had shown him that wasn’t all he was. . . .

“Oh, Asmo! I’ve been looking for you.” He opened his eyes, and yawned. Maybe Belphie was onto something with these afternoon naps. You ran up to him, holding a basket of different flowers. “Hi, Hon. Don’t tell me you’re actually going to do that assignment?” By the looks of it, you were. Bits of dirt had stained the cuffs of your uniform, and you smelled like petrichor, earthy. Roots and stems stuck out of the woven basket as if you had stuffed it full.

“Uh, yeah. Of course I am.” You shook your head, not everyone could get away with handing in a premade bouquet like him.

The cultural exchange class, part of the new curriculum for the exchange program, had issued an assignment about flowers. More specifically, contrasting and comparing symbolism between the three realms flower languages and social history. He was excited at first, but after hearing that he was expected to grow and pick the flowers himself, he was out. Uh uh, he was not getting dirt under his nails

“Come on, it’s not so bad! Sol taught me a spell to instantly sprout and blossom these little guys.” You handed him the basket, which he daintily took. “Hm. I don’t see how that’s any better, but show me what you’ve got.” You grinned and sat beside him, watching him open the basket.

“These are Gypsophila, or baby’s breath. Narcissus-.” He giggled at that one. “Just listen okay!” He threw his hands up and nodded as you continued. “Otherwise known as daffodil. This one is Heliotrope.” He twirled it between his fingers, admiring the little blossoms you had grown. “So what do they mean?” He set them back and moved to give you back your basket. Instead, you gently set it in his lap. “You’re gonna have to figure that out yourself, Pretty boy.”

Pulling a thick tome, or… Gardening book, out of your school bag, you placed it among the flowers and smiled. Before he could protest, you bounded up to your feet, leaned over, and kissed his temple. He felt the warmth of your breath against his skin as you pulled back. “Oh! I-I…” His tongue fumbled over all the clever responses he was struggling to think of.

Tucking his hair back, you pulled a stem from your sleeve and placed it behind his ear. It was a small white flower, with not a speck of dirt on it. You had clearly spent the most effort on this one, preening the stem and leaves so it would rest comfortably in his hair.

His eyes widened and he stared at you, you were so close to him… His face felt hot and he didn’t try to speak again. “Alyssum.”

“What?” You giggled, and stepped back. “That one…” You nodded towards the blossom adorning his ear. “Is Alyssum. I think it suits you, and…” You paused, looking away. “Well, just read the book and do your homework!” Laughing, you ran off just as quickly as you had come. The sound rang out like bells, as you rounded the hedges and left. Asmodeus blinked, and finally breathed out.

Looking down at the basket and all the pretty flowers, he realised there wasn’t dirt on any of them. Each one, while not as pristine as the Alyssum, was preened and carefully selected so he could handle them without sullying his hands. You had grown them… For him? His hand covered his mouth, and he giggled softly. Picking up the book you had left him, he felt giddy to learn what each one meant. . . .

Ten minutes now. Ten minutes to ready himself, ten minutes until he could tell you he had gotten an ‘A’ on his assignment, and that he was so… Happy. Tears blurred his sight, and he wiped them away before they could ruin his makeup. The chatter of the crowds had faded out, the scorching heat and weight of all the eyes on him gone. His mind was spinning and he had to keep reminding himself to be patient. He would see you soon and he just couldn’t mess up the delicate bouquet he kept behind his back. Gosh, would you like them? Were they pretty enough for you? Would you… Would you understand?

Looking around anxiously, he stood on his tip toes and searched the crowds for you. He didn’t feel you, but maybe you would show up early? Maybe you wanted to see him sooner too?

Ever since he had made a pact with you, he felt elated. That piercing clarity, that cold beauty finally felt like it would last. You were Winter. Sharp, beautiful, and ephemeral in a way that made his heart ache.

The demon shook himself off, and took a deep breath. He would know when you were there.

He didn’t have many pacts, sure. Just two. His pact with Solomon was different, it felt like electricity. Like power that commanded attention the moment his little human master was anywhere near him. His mark felt like the tingle of static in the air before lightning struck, dangerous and seductive like all power was.

But you felt… Softer, or maybe more subtle. There was no doubt that you were strong, you could subdue him with an effortless, overwhelming force that not even Humanity's strongest sorcerer could command. There was elegance and mystery in your power, like you had a secret that he oh so very much wanted to unveil.

Asmo was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of frost forming in his mind.

Cold, invigorating winds rushed through him. A feeling of calm, serenity filled his chest. If he focused hard enough, he could feel the soft kiss of snowflakes on his face. His pact mark tingled and his skin raised like he had laid back into fresh snow. You were here.

Opening his eyes, he grinned and turned around. You waved and smiled at him. You were here early and he didn’t have time to give himself a once over before. Was his hair nice? Did his makeup run? Did you notice he was wearing your favourite colour?

“Hey, you’re here early!” He put on a charming, flirty smirk. “Did you want to see me sooner?” Tilting your head, you laughed and his heart stuttered. “Definitely.” Only you wouldn’t point out that he was there first.

With a quick, deep breath, he pulled the carefully arranged bouquet of Forget me nots and held them out to you. He had rehearsed all the things he wanted to say, all the words he could use to make you see him. Instead, like a little kid, he held a fistfull of flowers in front of his face and avoided your gaze.

Your eyes sparkled, like stars fallen from the sky. Glittering like snow beneath the moon. And he was left breathless, hands trembling as he felt the rush of a powerless yearning overtake him.

You took the bouquet, and he knew you understood.

[beef-brisket]

((The real question: big baby or small baby lol))

Michael was extremely concerned. He barely knows anything about Adam or what he is. This child isn't going to be good. Michael will have to keep an even closer eye on Adam and his brother.

Michael : This isn't good. There's too many questions unanswered. A child is really going to throw a spanner in the works. Big time.

Nurse: Shall we tell them?

Michael: No. Not yet. I will inform my brother soon. Alone.

The nurse nodded.

Lucifer has been using his spending his time looking after Charlie and having a look around the castle. The place has major structural damage, and he doesn't know how much of an easy fix they are. That stone wall when he found Adam is definitely going to need to be fixed.

There was a long walking distance between the kitchen and Adam room. It definitely frustrates Lucifer. The food is nearly cold by the time it gets to Adam, and Charlie's bottles are nearly cold to.

He was thinking of moving their rooms, but Adam is definitely a no go, he can barely hold anything, let alone walk.

And Charlie. He doesn't want her too far when he's with Adam, but he also doesn't want her in the room.

The pains make Adam a bit short tempered, which Lucifer comple understands. But that doesn't make the yelling any less scary.

Lucifer has been trying to get Adam to taste normal people food. He was disgusted to find out that he eats flesh as well as their blood.

So, Lucifer is carrying a bowl of uncomfortably not cold and not warm soup and two blood dags down the hall to Adam's room. It's early morning, so he doesn't know what mood he'll be in.

Lucifer: Adam! I've got some breakfast for you- oh. You're sitting up! That's great!

Lucifer can just make out Adam's silhouette. He seemed to be sitting up, which was good and definitely not creepy. Especially when he doesn't say anything, but Lucifer can see the light reflecting in his eyes, so he knows he's looking at him.

Lucifer stared at him and handed him a blood bag. He didn't move for a few seconds, but he started to reach out. Lucifer felt his claws touch his hands, but they didn't hurt him. Would it even be possible to trim them?

Lucifer: Ad? Do you want to try some soup?

Lucifer couldn't see it, but he swore that he heard the bag get torn open, Adam drank all of the blood in it before looking at Lucifer. He quickly passed him another bag.

He wondered if Adam would mind if he opened the curtains?

Have you seen Resident Evil: Village? All I'm saying is Adam and Emily as two of the three sisters and Sera as Lady Dimitrescu.

Lucifer is Ethan trying to find Charlie.

At first, Adam was on his mother and sisters side- but because they have a weird thing against dudes, he eventually helps Lucifer.

Trust me, it feels illegal not to make Adam the stunning Lady Dimitrescu, but for story reasons, he'll be one of her kids.

I mean, their hot. What can I say? Adam would look great like this 🤷

Adam: Mmm- man flesh~.

Lucifer: ...Kinda gay, man.

Adam: It's not gay.

Lucifer: It is- man flesh? Really?

Adam: ...

Lucifer: ...

Adam: *stabs sickle into his leg and drags him away* Mother!

I have seen it! Ha I love this. ((Yes he'd rock being the Lady of the house 😩))

Lucifer: Ow!! What the fuck!?

Adam: It's not gay! Mother was right.

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #2: NOT QUITE THERE

(also on spotify!)

b-b-back once again

Round two of the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Yesterday was track one, Dyad - today is track two, Not Quite There, featuring the incomparable telebasher!

This one's a bit of a dark horse relative to the rest of the album, but it may very well be my personal favorite song on the entire thing so dammit let's Yap

---

For the uninitiated, this song pulls heavily from a song off my previous album called Gummyworm, both in vibe and by very directly quoting its synth motif.

Both of these songs deal with two sides of the same emotional coin. I actually don't want to go into too much detail about it - I feel like the lyrics spell things out clearly enough - but I will say this:

When it's all you know, it's easy to believe that a love that isolates you, a love that doesn't respect you, a love that hurts is better than no love at all.

You deserve better. There are always people who genuinely want what's best for you, who want you to feel truly loved. It certainly isn't always easy - it's genuinely good if your interpersonal relationships have a little friction sometimes - but love should make your life brighter.

You deserve a love that's fair.

---

The original version of this song was actually intended to be on Bittersweet alongside Gummyworm. The original concept for that album had a whole heady concept involving duality, songs reflecting each other, the two halves basically being reprisals of each other... Ultimately, I'm glad I scrapped that idea, because it was waaaaaay too much for me to manage after a couple years of barely making music. Maybe I'll revisit it someday though?

The drums on this song are sampled from an Instagram post by Louis Cole, where he's doing this crazy one-handed hi-hat blast by holding a drumstick sideways. I'm a drummer and that shit genuinely scares me a little like i dont know how he does half the things he does its fucked BUT. I bring this up because he's one of my biggest inspirations as a musician! I'm really big on jazz in general, in case my love for spicy chords wasn't enough of an indication, but his specific brand of freaky hyperactive bullshit just does it for me.

Seriously, go watch his band KNOWER play their song Overtime. Absolutely insane performances across the board. also Clown Core

This whole song is really just my attempt at matching some of that hectic jazzy energy with my own style of music, so I figured it only made sense to make it another collab with another musician making delightfully frantic jazz bullshit - the legend herself, telebasher! I really am such a massive fan of her work, and I struggle to think of anyone who plays guitar quite like she does. We previously worked together on another Bittersweet track, Asemic Speech, and her guitar work is a major reason why that song is still one of my favorite I've ever released!! She's just built different like listen to this oh my god!!!!

Lastly, since this song was one of the first written for this entire project... it is admittedly a case of me shoehorning the album's leitmotif in after the fact. It's a little forced when it shows up in the backing vocals! But, the choir of vocal synths during the guitar solo served an additional purpose - my own voice doesn't show up on the album again for another four entire songs, and this would've otherwise been the only song on the entire album that didn't feature any vocal synths. Thus did I attempt to bridge the gap, as it were. Hopefully it makes the final product feel more natural!!

Either way, that's all for today's post.... i think.... which means that tomorrow.... we're gonna rot.... for clout

[iwillseeyouinanother-life]

I love a good discussion about media— there are so many things jam packed into Naruto to talk about. The war based economy (how the chunin exams fill that gap in the market during peaceful times), the ninja system and how it generates child soldiers, the politics of the hidden leaf village, the political structure of the nations, how history in Naruto reflects human history, the system of elitism via the legendary clans such as the senju and the hyuga clans, and more.

I don’t think the purpose of Naruto was to be a story about revolution. The hidden leaf village is not a dystopian society— the village reflects modern nations. Naruto’s empathy and kindness was a radical act in the unjust society he exists in but he is not a revolutionary. I think the purpose of Naruto was to showcase how a society can progress. Naruto took it upon himself to champion a new ninja way that incorporates empathy and understanding as well as a strong will. Ninja are trained to be obedient, unemotional, and lethal. Ninja trade in their humanity to become a weapon for their nation. Naruto outright rejects this after witnessing the events that happened on the bridge with Zabuza. Naruto followed through on his word and did not become an amiable weapon for the lead village to use. It was not easy and society pushed back against Naruto for more than a decade but Naruto still had a profound impact on the ninja world regardless.

I think he was born to push society forward in its standards and practices as well as refining the cultural norms in the ninja system. Naruto is defiant— not a revolutionary. His defiance was revolutionary but he was not aiming to turn the hidden leaf on its head. He was a leader among his peers in his ability to change others by reaching out. In doing so he was actively rejecting the status quo.

The cycle of violence still continues— he puts cracks on the cycle but he doesn’t break it and he doesn’t escape it either. I don’t think he was meant to do that. Naruto created positive change and that is something that is never easy to do in an unjust society.

Naruto is a powerful story about existing in an unjust society, pushing against the status quo by not only just existing as himself but deciding to be different with the goal of creating positive change, and how people are not so different from one another.

This show will always have a special place in my heart.

Thinking about Naruto

The day you realize Naruto and all his friends are child soldiers being raised by child soldiers— you aren’t watching the same show twice anymore. The cycle of violence never ends because you raise child soldiers to forfeit their humanity in a nationalist society.

Don’t get me wrong— as Naruto gets older and understands more— he is able to break pieces of that cycle. He never escapes it though.

Naruto was a leader amongst his peers because he didn’t comply with apathy. Naruto let his empathy guide him throughout the world. In the society he lives in— empathy is a radical concept.

When you really think about the values the shinobi world drills into their citizens: unemotional, lethal force, and nationalism— Naruto’s desire to see others and understand them is defiant of those values.

Naruto’s capacity and willingness to see others as individuals first and strive to understand, and then see them as from another nation second separates him from the rest. Naruto’s empathy and love for humanity gives him the ability for open dialogue with people he thought of as enemies (Zabuza, Haku, Nagato, Gaara). He is able to cry for his enemies ( again— zabuza, haku, gaara, and sasuke). He is has the capacity for forgiveness and growth. Through these radical (in this society) concepts of empathy, understanding, forgiveness— Naruto changed people for the better. He changed his nation for the better.

He never breaks free though. Naruto becomes the hokage and continues the cycle. His village still raises child soldiers (in less harsh values)— he promotes incorporating empathy and extending your understanding outside of your own nation. The violence still continues. He still facilitates a violence society in raising these child soldiers— he is not the only one— gaara and the other kages are right along with him.

The show feels very different when you realize that Kakashi was a victim of a system that raised victims of a system— that went on to raise more victims of a system. The show feels different. Suddenly it’s not just a shonen battle anime with bright colors and cool concepts. It becomes thought provoking and reflects realities of a society and continuous cycles. Brilliant writing. Dark and layered undertones.

[glompcat]

A friend recently made fun of the fact that my comfort meal when sad is essentially salmon and broccoli, but my comfort meal is super delicious and easy to make AND for those times when I am sad at my parents house (like say, the during the massive health crisis my dad has been going through) my mom will eat it too so it doubles as a way to take care of my mom when she too is sad.

[movielosophy]

A Journey To Love | Take him down!

[puppyeared]

Atla live action 😐

[lettucedloophole]

im a little worried with mouthwashing becoming blorbo game that people are going to brush over the horrific misogyny in anya and jimmy's relationship. that anya was worried (and rightfully so given what happened) that jimmy would literally kill her. just worried they'll brush past that bc problematic man fun

[ybbag777]

Drawings of Johnny Cade from the last week or so, two are book one is from the musical

Bonus Dally

[audoodle]

the dreamcast was the last console with a soul

my elementary days are the last time I felt happy

I'll never feel carefree again

the gamecube was the last console with any sort of personality

middle school wasn't as bad as it felt in the moment actually

at least I wasn't worried about rent

the iphone 4 is the peak of mobile tech

I miss my freshman year

it was the last time I'll ever have had friends

the wii u was the last system that felt special

I want my old retail job back

it was the last job that I felt I worked well in

the playstation 4 was the last time there was magic in video games

It sucks that every movie is bad now

there's no more magic

art is dead.

it's not me.

I'm not changing.

everything is just wrong now.

it was right before.

I want it to be right again.

let me go back.

go back to when it was right.

[itspileofgoodthings]

cause it wasn’t sexy once it wasn’t forbidden!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[snickerdoodlles]

there's a point at which someone's fear of being a dick wraps back around to them just being a dick anyways

[helliixns]

Honestly what I now desperately need is Stolas talking to Asmodeus and/or Fizzie and as a result making Stolas take a good hard look at how he himself has treated Blitzø and every other imp he’s ever dealt with