#asa do your thing

[sansansecretsanta2024]

SanSan Secret Santa 2023 Masterlist

🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁

“Sleigh Ride” by @asa-do-your-thing

“Snowed In” by @britnyintheskywithatardis

“Snow Day” by @fanofbooks49

“Step Into Christmas With Me” by @gefionne

“The Magic We Give” by @kaellecappuccino

Thank you to all participants for completing this year’s gift exchange! Happy Holidays!

[wickmitz]

you know rereading the comic got me thinking and i feel ur the best person for this. im very intrigued by mitzi and asa's dynamic pre, during, AND post atlas. i really wish we saw more of what happened before atlas' passing bc mitzi herself said asa used to be so nice to her and i'm just like YO WHAT HAPPENED anyways hi hello love ur blog

hi! i’m flattered you love my blog! and even more so by the fact you think i’m the best person to go to for this question! i’ve briefly talked about mitzi and asa before when analyzing the lunch scene in my long analysis for mitzi’s and wick’s relationship, where i said this on the matter :

to touch upon asa’s treatment of mitzi, even from as early as the phone call we see that mitzi is forced to have a conversation with asa on his terms rather than her own terms. mitzi sets out with a clear goal in mind -- learning why asa sweet would attack the lackadaisy in the way that he did -- and she's repeatedly talked over and threatened, with her questions remaining unanswered. it’s very clear very quickly that asa doesn’t respect mitzi nor view her as someone worthy of his time like atlas was, and almost appears to approach her in a misogynistic manner. he demeans something as simple as her ukulele as a ‘teeny little guitar’ and acts as though mitzi’s tears would be bothersome to him, some sort of burden he’d be forced to deal with rather than a valid emotional response to threats, degradation, and the likes. while asa is by no means wrong with some of his observations, he’s certainly rude and uncaring with how he goes about it. when he tells mitzi that he’s here to suggest that she step down, because he so generously has her interests in mind, she doesn’t buy it ; once again bringing up last nights events, where asa willingly armed the pig farmers with the lackadaisy’s arsenal and sent them over her way without so much as a warning. asa dismisses this coldly, once again dodging any fault and claiming it was ‘happenstance’ and entirely mitzi’s own doing. even now, when he’s actively threatening her and making it clear they won’t stay friendly if she keeps trying to make it in this business, he still won’t fully admit to any sort of responsibility for the disastrous night he helped put her through. while this seems rather typical of asa given his disrespectful streak ( something even mordecai, as valued and as useful as he is, suffers because of ) it’s worth noting that this side of him is new to mitzi and not one she was at all expecting. she even says as much here, in heartstrings.

we also know that mitzi only met atlas due to her performing at the marigold speakeasy first, and it’s likely asa was rather present in her life due to his bond with her now husband. asa even admits that mitzi may be confused because they’ve ’managed a friendly coexistence for so long,’ once again hammering home this idea that up until this point, asa was indeed kind to mitzi, or at the very least cordial. but with atlas out of the picture and mitzi trying to take his position, suddenly asa is more than okay with getting her killed or taking all she has left -- even his plan is nothing short of apathetic and cold, an afterthought, expecting her to give up something important to her and only offering a one time offer to play at the marigold room ‘sometime’ with that ‘old band of hers.’ what’s important here is that mitzi is ruthlessly betrayed by a man who used to like her and is treated as a lesser thing due to his view that she’s too incompetent to run a rumrunning business. he also brings up atlas to, in mitzi’s eyes, ‘intimidate ( her ) into agreeing with him,’ and towards the end of the lunch, she looks particularly kicked and undoubtedly hurt. she leaves this meeting that could’ve stayed a phone call with a potential enemy made and with the world on her shoulders, now more determined than ever to be someone people like asa would be forced to respect. instead of being dissuaded, she’s been encouraged, and it’s not hard to realize why.

so, i suppose those are my very brief thoughts about them post atlas! but as for pre and during, i don’t think there was ever anything really there outside of peaceful coexistence. as atlas’s wife, mitzi garnered respect she probably never had before as a traveling musician! asa wouldn’t dare insult her or belittle her once she became atlas’s wife and probably felt no need to do so in the first place. especially since, after all, asa’s the reason atlas found mitzi at all, back when she played for the marigold room where i assume she was treated well enough given asa’s rather friendly mask. he’s a jokester! he’s well meaning and goofy, always smiling and his eyes permanently upturned looking due to the patterns on his face … mitzi wouldn’t ever really see the asa that many other people deal with, and even when comparing asa to her rather quiet and eeire husband, well, he’d still seem leagues impressionable by default. asa purposely acts like he’s approachable and harmless, and while mitzi definitely knew he wasn’t some angel, i do think she fell for that mask more than she’d like to admit.

how i’ve always viewed their relationship is that the very nature of it was dictated by atlas may simply existing and owning her. his mere interest in mitzi was something phenomenal, and by default, something people had to respect. asa sweet was kind to her because she likely didn’t linger in the marigold room for too long before atlas snatched her up. he’s then very cordial to her, probably armed with compliments and generous gestures of interest because she’s atlas’s wife and asa can respect that role wholeheartedly. it’s only when atlas is removed and mitzi begins putting her paws where they ‘don’t belong’ that asa seems to drop the ruse, because there’s no need to keep it up anymore. even though mitzi isn’t harming anyone and hasn’t tried to step on asa’s toes once, he still steals from her and puts her in danger without care -- not once burdened by any real guilt as he continues to threaten her when she doesn’t back down immediately. with how clinical the removal of affection is here ( because even mordecai hasn’t managed to remove viktor, mitzi, or ivy in such a careful or ruthless way despite his awful actions and words ) i find it hard to believe he ever truly cared for mitzi as an individual person outside of atlas. the way he so casually oozes disrespect and belittles her without blinking an eye is … interesting!

all of this is to say that i don’t think asa and mitzi were ever personally close. they probably never knew each other deeply nor made any real steps to try. they’d see each other because asa had a habit of appearing in the lackadaisy just as much as atlas had the habit of being at the marigold room, and so they’d greet each other and asa would be excessively kind in that bumbling fool way he keenly presents himself and mitzi would be pleased by his presence. very simple ‘this is my friend’s wife’ vibes and nothing more. i doubt asa would even be interested in cozying up to mitzi due to atlas’s implied possessive behavior lol … but it was kindness and it was caring to an extent. it just wasn’t as deep or loyal as mitzi might’ve hoped it would be.

[hotd-bigbang]

Author: @asa-do-your-thing | Artist: @nyctophilic0vitnir

Title: The Shadows of the Lost Court | Category: F/M | Rating: Mature | Word count: 8.5k

Warnings: Dubcon, canon-typical violence, smut, angst, misogyny, drug use, religious guilt.

Summary: In a shadowy corner of the Red Keep, Princess Elisabeth Lonmouth, derogatorily called Bess by the court for her simplicity, wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen, finds herself trapped in a surreal nightmare. Drugged and disoriented, she stumbles through the eerie, abandoned halls, each step echoing with haunting whispers. The Stranger is hot on her heels…

Read the full story on AO3.

Created as part of the House of the Dragon Big Bang '23 event on @hotd-bigbang

[chaotic-toby]

I don't know if I'm gonna make this into an OC or not but I need to info dump about an idea I had

So imagine if Asa Emory had like a partner in crime. Not so much of a s/o but more of an admirer. The person would be a photographer professor for a college (a different college if you're a firm believer of Asa being a college professor), and they love taking photos of macabre things. Obviously, they don't show their students, but their house is covered in gory, creepy photos. Well, Asa kidnaps them one night. The person, when they wake up, is obviously worried and scared at first, bc who wouldn't, but when they see Asa's collection of mutilated corpses, they become amazed. They can't stop looking at the bodies, itching to get their camera and take a photo and hang it on their walls. When Asa notices the person's interest, he also gets a bit interested. He ties them up somewhere so that they can watch him torture someone. The person, at first is a bit scared (they've never seen anyone die such a brutal death), but they still like how Asa mutilates the victim. When Asa is done, he unties the OC and let's them get near the corpse. I can imagine the OC awkwardly asking for a camera, which Asa surprisingly has. He gives them the camera and watches as they snap photo after photo of the mutilated body. They do it until the camera runs out of battery.

They roam the hotel just chatting. They're both not shy, per se, but both are introverted and prefer not to talk a lot, but the OC doesn't know sign language, so they're forced to verbally talk out loud. They learn about how they're both college professors and bond over having annoying students, and then about their interests (what Asa does and the photos the OC takes). Asa agrees to let them go and to bring them back, but he knocks them out beforehand so they won't know where the hotel is at. When he trusts them a bit more, he'll show them how to get to the hotel.

The two of them gets close eventually. In my head, they're not romantically involved, just really, really close. The OC has extremely bad abandonment issues (this is the part I thought the most about). They have a history of people either leaving them or obviously preferring someone over them. They've had multiple friendships drift apart bc the other person got close to someone else and stopped hanging out with the OC as much as they used to. The OC's own mother stopped being around as much to instead hang out with her friends, spending days at a time at her friends' house, barely even bothering to text or call the OC. So bc of all of that, they have issues with people being away from them for long. Obviously, sometimes the other person can't help it, which is understandable. But if it seemed like they are getting closer to someone else, then the OC will get really sad. They don't like being alone. They despise it.

When Asa is doing his thing in the hotel, the OC is like a little shadow. They follow him everywhere, staying silent. At first, Asa was a bit annoyed. He didn't like the idea of someone just watching him. But eventually, he gets used to it, and even expects it. It helped that the OC is quiet. They both might not talk a lot, but they enjoy the other's company.

I can imagine Asa getting obsessed with Arkin and the OC noticing and getting sad and mad. They want to push Asa away, but know that it would only make them sadder. So, they stick around Asa as he does whatever he does to Arkin. The OC just stays far away, watching with a frown on their face, thinking that once again, they're being abandoned.

Obviously, Asa notices how his shadow isn't right behind him. Everytime the OC tries to stay away, he grabs their hand and forces them to he closer, silently reassuring them that he's not leaving them.

[ocdhuacheng]

denji bby boy if you met my dog you would know without a doubt that they stink 

[gottagobuycheese]

WIP Game

Tagged into the accountability relay race by @theaggresivepacifist — thanks a mil! Also please know that I am making the biggest bug eyes at your previews 

Rules: In a new post, show the last line snippet(s) you wrote and tag as many people as there are words as you want geez I’d never be able to tag that many people

Well, I haven’t written anything consistent in a while, and the most recent thing is still secret unfortunately, BUT I do have a couple things to share that will hopefully at some point make it out into the world beyond my drafts:

Snippet #1 a.k.a. You Want To Watch Nobody Knows, You Want To Watch Nobody Knows Soooooo Bad

Each knock on the door made her heart spasm against her sternum, faster and faster until the nauseating tide of dread in her chest threatened to choke her.

There was an officer outside her door. She was sure of it. Things had been too good for her lately, so it was only a matter of time before the universe had to course-correct. So-yeon only ever brought misfortune upon the people she loved, after all.

She stumbled toward the door in a daze.

This was it. This was the end. This officer was going to tell her — they were going to tell her —

She opened the door.

Snippet #2 a.k.a. The Jung Sibling Cinematic Universe ft. Han Sooyoung’s Confessional Booth

“Sorry,” she says, after nothing happens for another minute, “where did I leave off?” 

“You were walking from Chungmuro and chatting about things.” There’s an odd catch in Sooyoung’s voice when she mentions the station, but Heewon doesn’t dwell on it. She’s too busy staring at the boy in the bed, who would be staring right back at her if only he would open his eyes. 

“Siblings,” she says quietly, staring at Kim Dokja’s sleeping face. “We were talking about siblings.”

Snippet #3 a.k.a. YOU WANT TO READ ORV, YOU WANT TO READ ORV SOOOOOO BAD

In the back of his mind, a conversation he’d had with her years ago plays in a loop, about rereading and finding something new. That the story you read the first time isn’t the only story there is. He looks at his mother now, at her hand holding his arm, feels the uneven tremble of her fingers as they try to decide between holding on and letting go, and notices, for the first time, that the thought at the front of his mind isn’t all the ways she had hurt him. 

It dawns on him slowly, then all at once. 

Maybe that’s what this feeling is.  He wonders if it’s been there since before he’d woken up. 

“Eomma,” he says, the rusty syllables clunky on his tongue, “why don’t you come back inside?” 

It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to look at my dashboard or even be online consistently on any platform, so I don’t know who is still actively writing right now, THEREFORE I apologise and please feel free to just consider this a friendly no-pressure hello. Of course, if you are working on something you are allowed to share, I would love to see it! @imperiousphasmid​, @fremulon​, @darkpurpledawn​, @diminished-fish, @internetkatze, @directorofthefalselastact​, @demonlikejudgeoffire

And if I didn’t tag you but you want to join in on the sharing please do! Tag me so I can see it! Wait for no one! 2023 is the year of grabbing your desires by the horns and making them happen without waiting for permission!!

[devotion-disorder]

Hi Devo! If it's okay to call you that, I just wanted to say I'm a big big fan of your work and you made me fall in love with your silly doodles and masterpieces. First time sending in an ask considering how long I've been following you but I've gathered to courage to write my little love letter to you. I just wanted to ask how you color/render and how you study art? I love how your colors flow seamlessly into one another, and how your art just tickles my brain.

Anyways! Kuuya is so boyfailure and I love him but Asa. OH MY GOD ASA.

I want him so bad it's uncanny. His ears are so cute I just want to bite them. I want to unlock new things inside him. I want to do things to him. Literally all your submissive and breedable ocs will make me drool like a dog. Kuuya was my first love but Asa will be my last. I will kidnap him, carry him bridal style while he's in a wedding dress, and then kiss him silly. He will work at home and will make silly little things for the bedroom /hj.

(我想要对他做一些难以启齿的事情。我希望他属于我，让他崇拜我。我真想揪他的头发，让他发牢骚。他是我可爱的狗。）

Thank you so much for all the kind words...!! here's a wedding dress asa for all your troubles

putting the art questions under the cut!

I've addressed a little bit on giving out advice for coloring here, and tbh im surprised you think my colors flow together well because i pick my colors pretty haphazardly LOL but generally speaking, nowadays my usual line of thinking is “how do i express [a certain shade of color] without using that exact shade of color”. Like if im coloring an apple then im thinking about all the colors except red that i can be using.

as for studying art, sometimes id straight up copy and paste other artists’ work into csp myself and re-trace anatomy/ action lines over it, colorpick it etc etc to really get a feel for their techniques. of course, this is all kept to myself privately. sometimes i also draw things specifically with the goal of emulating said techniques, like “for this piece im going to draw clothing folds like how X artist does it” etc

akjdfjksjsjd i hope all that makes sense / is useful! thank u for likin my stuff 🥺

p.s. i can read chinese and your little passage has not moved me in the slightest /lh

[dawnchorus-if]

‎ ‎‎

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ Your sister is dead, murdered and mutilated and left to rot in a brothel like a sickly dog. You finally know your purpose: revenge.

DAWN CHORUS is an 18+ interactive fiction about death, love, and the song of new morning. Demo TBA.

You live in The Rocks, a decaying settlement in the shadowed outskirts of the kingdom, Cape Lyra. Once a cozy village, The Rocks has withered into a decrepit ruin since the assassination of King Cedric. Queen Lyra, for whom the kingdom was named, became consumed by grief and neglected the outer villages. Now, The Rocks is a place where even the birds come to die.

Desperate to earn money for the both of you, your sister ventured to Cape Lyra with her best friend, Jax. Only Jax returned, covered in your sister's blood, with a hazed description of her killer. Driven by the need for retribution, you and Jax set out for the kingdom, determined to find and punish the sick soul who took your sister's life. When revenge is your only remaining purpose, a life for a life only seems fair.

You hope.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎Fully customise yourself, from your name and appearance to your sexuality to your greatest woes and wants. Choose your approach to grief, to anger, to revenge—drown in your sorrows or push them aside in favour of a... different kind of vice. Curate a story that revolves around who you are, and what you'll stand for.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Explore relationships with six different romanceable characters, and a multitude of other characters to befriend (or behead). Interact with a diverse cast of characters, each with their own impact to leave on the story. Just... be careful who you trust, some people might not be who they say they are.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Find out what really happened to your sister. Hunt down her killer, or killers, and determine your own ability to play executioner on her behalf. Open doors to dark rooms in the royal family history, find out that there's a lot more darkness in Cape Lyra than there is light.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Get involved in the politics of Cape Lyra. The people can only be neglected for so long before they start to revolt, right? What side of history will you be on? Or will you be too blinded by grief to care who gets hurt?

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Exorcise a demon, maybe.

DAWN, born amidst the morning birdsong, the cherished youngest child of King Cedric and Queen Lyra, and the heir apparent to the throne. They don't often get to see outside of Cape Lyra's walls, so don't fault them for being a little juvenile in their knowledge of the world, it's not born from a lack of desire. There's a youthful charm to Dawn, and a deep-seated eagerness to know more about the kingdom they'll one-day rule. [M/F, 22]

ASA KYNES, climbing the ranks as one of Cape Lyras most dedicated royal guards, Kynes is as formidable as they are resolute. You won't get past them very easily, they've got keen judgement skills, and you're up to something, they're sure of it. Kynes is loyal, and more than willing to lay their life down in servitude to the monarchy. Getting Kynes to open up is hard, but may be more than worth it. [M/F, 26]

JAX HANSLEY, your sisters best friend and now your accomplice in avenging her. Jax is royalty in The Rocks, charismatic beyond belief and has been teasing you since you were just starting to walk. Extravagant and always looking for something to do, you'll never find yourself bored around them. Plus, you couldn't get rid of Jax even if you wanted to, they're the closest thing to family that you have left. [M/F, 24]

CERYS SELINE, owner and face of The Rabbits Foot, Cape Lyra's busiest tavern. Cerys is a stern woman who works her ass off day and night, but there's a sweet undertone to the way she speaks: something nurturing. She's a pillar of the kingdom, well-connected and respected. There's more to her than meets the eye, sure, but for now she's more than willing to aid you in finding your sisters killer. [F, 26]

ARTHUR CASE, a priest who has been ousted from the kingdom for reasons he just won't speak aloud. Left with only one leg and crumbs of his faith, he's living in his late father's old church a short trek from the kingdoms gates. Pop in for a service one day, maybe confessionals don't always have to be one-sided. [M, 29]

??? — something cold in the shadows, and its eyes are on you.

DAWN CHORUS contains some heavy topics, such as graphic depictions of death, violence, drug use, explicit language and skippable sexual content. Classism is also a present topic. Readers discretion is advised.

reblogs r so appreciated and asks are more than welcome ^^

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Ūbnon (anticipation)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x twin sister!reader Warnings: Incest, dirty talk, heavy petting, female masturbation. Word count: ~3k

Summary: Soon to be married to her twin brother, Aemond, she grows nervous at the prospect of what is to come on their wedding night, and decides to educate herself. To her embarrassment, and eventual delight, her brother catches her in the act.

Author's note: For @asa-do-your-thing. Based on this request. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

Born just minutes apart, she has been bound to Aemond since birth. He is her twin, her other half, their kinship as natural to her as the simple act of drawing breath. Their betrothal is a matter that was decided upon long before either of them had the faculties to truly comprehend the implications, but it is one she readily accepts. It is a means to strengthen their family, to prolong the Targaryen lineage, to provide heirs when the legitimacy of her half sister Rhaenyra’s offspring is called into question.

The full weight of what that means for both of them is not one she ever ponders, it is simply a duty she must perform. But as she grows older, blossoming into a woman, and watches Aemond develop into a man, her mind drifts to the implications of marriage and the duties she will be expected to perform as not just a sister, but as a wife.

She is no stranger to pleasure, her hand has often drifted between her thighs on nights that sleep evades her, drawing out a pulsating ache from which warmth writhes in her lower belly and spreads through her limbs until she is left feeling weightless and spent.

However, she is unsure of how she could ever replicate such a feeling with a man, her twin brother no less, rutting atop her. She has learned the physicality of it from her septa, and what is described to her both piques her curiosity and frightens her. To have Aemond brutalise her body in such a manner makes her fear for the pain it may cause her, but her thoughts also race with the possibility that it might feel good.

She has tried to broach the subject with Helaena before, hoping to find common ground, considering she is married to their eldest brother, Aegon, and they have three children together. However, upon the mere mention of the subject, Helaena had blinked rapidly, her brow furrowing, and clamped her hands over her ears as she turned away from her. It was a clear indication that she did not want to talk of it, so she did not broach the topic again. It made dread gnaw at her insides. Could it really be that bad?

She supposes Helaena is not as fortunate as she is; Aegon is drunk where Aemond is stoic, he is brutish and unkind, where Aemond is soft and understanding, at least to his mother and sisters. She is not oblivious to the darker side of her twin, she knows him inside and out; he has a sharp tongue and a proclivity for explosive anger, though neither are ever directed towards her. She wonders if that will change once she is his wife and more is expected of her. What if she is a disappointment to him on their wedding night and his attitude towards her changes? The very idea fills her with worry.

There is time yet, she supposes, and so she pushes the thought from her mind, deciding she will deal with it when a moment presents itself.

But a moment never does present itself, and now the wedding is only a month away.

She hisses, snatching her hand back from her needlepoint, placing the tip of her finger into her mouth to soothe the sudden sting of pain. It is the second time in the span of a quarter of an hour that she has accidentally pricked herself with the needle she holds in the opposite hand, and she is not sure the fruits of her labour are worth the effort of her suffering; the embroidery that sits upon her lap is a mess of loose stitches and frayed threads. Her mind is elsewhere, as much as she wills it to focus on the roses she is attempting to bring to life upon the scrap of cotton.

“You seem distracted today,” her lady in waiting tells her, “is there something the matter?”

She drops her hand into her lap, sighing. There are several women who attend to her at court, but she seldom spends time with any of them, finding them all far too vapid and focused on idle gossip for her taste. Elyse is the only exception. She is discreet, and content to idle the hours away in comfortable silence with her, either reading or sewing. She supposes that if she can confide in anyone regarding her fears for her wedding night and subsequent marital duties, then Elyse is the person she can trust most. She certainly cannot speak to her mother or sister, and definitely not Aemond.

“I am distracted,” she confesses. “The wedding draws closer by the day and I feel anxious for what is to come.”

“Do you not wish to marry Aemond?” Elyse asks, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“It is not that,” she says, shaking her head. “I cannot wait to be his wife, but it is what comes after that that concerns me. I am worried it will hurt. I want to find pleasure in the act, to not simply lay there passively and be a witness but not a participant to the loss of my virtue. Does that sound terrible?”

“Not at all,” Elyse reassures her, “you can and you should find pleasure in being intimate with your husband.”

“You make it sound so easy,” she scoffs. “I do not know how.”

“You could try speaking to Aemond about it? It may ease your mind a little.”

She balks at the idea, feeling her cheeks heat up. “That is not an option. I think he would sooner put out his other eye than debase himself to such a conversation.”

“Hmm. Perhaps a visit to the library is in order then.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lady Coryanne Wylde wrote a book, A Caution for Young Girls. It is an autobiographical account of her life as handmaid to a queen, the paramour of a young knight, a camp follower in the Disputed Lands, a serving wench in Myr, a mummer in Tyrosh, the plaything of a corsair queen in the Basilisk Isles, a slave in Volantis, the handmaid of a Qartheen warlock, the mistress of a pleasure house in Lys and ultimately a septa in the Starry Sept of Oldtown, where she sets down the story of her life as a warning to young maids.”

“If it is meant as a warning then how will I seek any comfort within its pages?”

Elyse laughs softly. “Believe me, I think what you will find within its pages is most…illuminating.”

She waits until nightfall, when she is sure everyone in the Keep will be asleep, before making her way to the library. Having thought of nothing else but the book that Elyse had mentioned earlier that day, she is eager to read it, but does not wish to be caught doing so.

Pulling her robe tighter around herself, to keep the chill of the air from permeating the thin cotton of her nightgown, her slippered feet pad softly through the winding corridors of the castle as she makes her way from her quarters to the library, a candle lighting her way. She is relieved to find the library dark and empty as she enters, the comforting scent of aged books calming her unsettled nerves as her heart hammers rapidly in her chest.

Using her candle to light the lamps on each of the tables, the subtle illumination helps to guide her as she walks the length of the room, eyes scanning the bookcases for the title she searches for. The spines of the various historical accounts and philosophical texts are all weathered with use, doubtless Aemond’s doing, and for a moment she wonders if such a scandalous book would even be kept within the library of the Red Keep. She cannot imagine such salacious text being housed alongside educational resources.

Making her way through the shelves containing volumes on botany, medicine and anatomy, she finally finds what she is looking for, tucked away on the end of a tightly packed shelf in the furthest corner of the library.

Reaching up with shaky hands, she frees the book from its cramped confines, surprised by the size and weight of it, and quickly makes her way over to the nearest table, nervously scanning the room to ensure no one has crept in after her to catch her in the act, before sitting down to read.

Her lips part, eyes widening as she reads, fingers delicately turning each page as she finishes it. She feels her skin grow hot as her pulse races and her breath quickens, shame washing over her at the relentless throbbing in her core as she loses herself in seedy tales of Lady Wylde being brought to peak at the lips and tongue of a man, and how she had chased her pleasure once more by wrapping her legs tighter around his waist as he had thrust into her.

She clamps her legs tighter together at the stickiness that gathers between her thighs, wondering how it would feel to have Aemond’s lips upon her breasts, to watch his tongue delve between her folds, to feel his fingers imprint upon her flesh as he buries himself to the hilt inside of her. Does he crave such things too? It makes her giddy with excitement for their wedding night, so that she may find out.

“You should be sleeping, dōnus hāedus.” [Sweet sister.]

Aemond’s voice causes her to freeze. So absorbed in her reading, she had not heard him enter. Her heart lurches and she swallows thickly, before looking up to meet his steely gaze as he stares down at her. His hair is loose, spilling iridescently over his shoulders, and his sapphire eye glimmers subtly in the low lighting. In a loose undershirt and breeches, he is clearly ready for bed himself.

“I–I could not find rest, so I came to the library to read,” she says quietly.

“And what are you reading?” He asks, cocking his head slightly.

She inhales shakily, placing her forearms over the pages of the book as it rests on the table, a feeble attempt to hide its contents from her twin. “It would bore you, it does not matter.”

“I do not think that is true, it must be an interesting book to have you in such a flustered state. I suspect you are lying to me. Skoros otāpā, idañītsos?” [What do you think, little twin?]

Lowering her gaze, she says nothing. Embarrassment and shame make her feel as though her skin is ablaze, as he reaches forward, placing his fingers against the edge of the book and sliding it out from underneath her arms, towards himself.

She holds her breath as he reads silently, not daring to look at Aemond as she keeps her eyes fixed on her hands clasped against the tabletop in front of her.

“Hmmm, so you have a taste for depravity,” he finally says.

“No!” Her head snaps up, wide eyed with shock as she protests. “I do not, Aemond, I swear! I–I have been…worried about our wedding night. I wanted to know more about how men and women please each other, so that I would not be a disappointment to you. I did not think anyone would catch me or ever know I had been reading this.”

He rounds the table, standing over her where she sits, and tenderly takes her chin between thumb and forefinger. “Jorrāelītsos, you could never disappoint me.” [Little love.]

She preens at his praise, her gaze softening as she stares up at him.

“But I do think you tell lies,” he continues. “You are my twin, you know me better than anyone, and you know how often sleep evades me, and where I come to when it does; here. I think you wanted me to catch you, to pry out of you the things you are too afraid to say of your own volition.”

“Lēkys…” [Brother.]

“Sit on the table.”

“W–why?!”

“Do as you are told, dōnus mēres. I shall not ask again.” [Sweet one.]

She shivers, scrambling up from her chair to sit on the table’s edge, watching as he pulls out the chair she had previously occupied and seats himself in it.

“Sit further back,” he instructs, “so that your feet can rest upon the table too, then I want you to lift your nightgown and spread your legs for.”

Blinking rapidly, her brows raised in horror, she is afraid she has misheard him. Surely he would never ask something so vulgar of her? And yet when she studies his expression, she finds no trace to suggest he is jesting at her expense. Instead, he inclines his head towards her, a silent gesture of impatience that lets her know it is best not to argue back. So, she complies with his command.

She longs to look away as the cool air of the library touches upon her most intimate of parts, she feels too exposed and painfully embarrassed. Yet when she takes in the subtle dilation of Aemond’s pupil, the way he moistens his lips as he leans ever so slightly forward to get a better look at her, she cannot find it in herself to cast her gaze anywhere but him. She has never seen such hunger or longing in his expression before.

“You are wet,” he states quietly, “did you enjoy what you read?”

Taking her lower lip between her teeth, she gives a small nod, too ashamed to say it aloud, and attempts to close her legs.

“I did not say you could do that, not yet. Keep them open.”

She does as instructed, but when she opens her mouth to speak, Aemond holds up a hand to silence her.

“It is not just you who has been researching, hāedus. I, too, have been reading, and I can see the state of arousal you are in. It is just a pity that it is a book that has made you this way and not I.”

“I was thinking about you as I read…” she whispers.

The faintest of smirks tugs at his lips, his eye lifting from between her thighs to her face. “Were you really? Tell me what you were thinking about me doing.”

She shakes her head furiously, too embarrassed to say, her knees falling together instinctively until she sees Aemond raise an eyebrow, and quickly parts them once more.

He sighs, leaning back, fingertips drumming against the armrests of the chair. “Very well. Then I shall divulge some of my own thoughts, for you have expressed your concerns regarding our bedding, and it would be careless of me as both your twin brother and betrothed if I did not attempt to put your mind at ease.”

This piques her curiosity, and she leans up slightly, resting against her palms, eager to hear what he has to say.

“I have no intention of hurting you on our wedding night,” he tells her, “quite the opposite, actually. I wish to take my time with you, prepare you thoroughly.”

Her breath hitches as she feels a familiar warmth fluttering in her belly. “How?” She whispers.

“I want to taste you. I will lap up the wetness that gathers between your thighs, have you fall apart upon my tongue until you tremble and scream my name.”

She feels herself clench around nothing at his filthy words, her chest rising and falling with a slight shudder at the rapidity of her breaths.

“Only when you are soaked for me will I dare to breach your maidenhead,” he continues. “You have no idea how many times I have spent into my own hand at the thought of how impossibly tight and warm you will feel around me. I long to spill deep inside of you, then watch the way it trickles down your thighs before I do it all over again.”

So desperate with need, she feels lightheaded, she aches for him, and she believes he is about to give her exactly what she needs when he rises from the chair, looming over her as she rests upon the table.

His thumbs run along the inside of her thighs, moving upwards, but missing entirely where she needs him most, instead ascending into the crease where her hip meets her leg.

“Please…please, lēkys, touch me,” she whimpers.

“I am afraid I cannot do that, as much as I yearn to, because once I do I will not be able to control myself, and you will no longer be a maid upon our wedding night.”

She feels so frustrated she could cry, as his hands delicately take the hem of her nightdress and smooth it back down over her legs, before helping her into a seated position. His sense of duty is both Aemond’s best and worst quality.

“I hope I have done what I can to alleviate your fears though, idañītsos.”

She nods, smiling gratefully up at him, despite the dull throbbing that causes her to squirm uncomfortably. “Could I ask one more thing of you, please? Willl…will you kiss me?”

Aemond’s eye softens, cupping her cheek as he leans in to press his lips to her. They are wonderfully soft and warm against her own, and she kisses back eagerly. However, all too soon he is pulling away, chuckling softly as she chases forward with her face, whining at the loss of him.

“Good things come to those who are patient, dōnus mēres,” he utters, resting his forehead against hers, as his fingers stroke the soft skin of her cheek. “Go back to your quarters, and think of me when you touch yourself. You have only a moon’s turn to wait until it is my hand you are falling apart at instead.”

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

“You get me so…so soaked!!”˚✿˖ᥫ᭡.

synopsis: Zayne needs more you more than food during his lunch break ;)

tags: semi-public, softdom!Zayne, desperation, penetration, on the table…, nipple play, dirty talk, vulgar, explicit, desperate asa Zayne my favorite flavor

wrd cnt: 1.5k

a/n: finally wrote a longer ish fic and lord i need this man in ways that sets back feminism…special thanks to @astarionapologist bc i made them go take screenshots for these zayne pics…

Your heels clink against the spotless hospital floor, your eyebrows slightly contort due to the harsh fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over everything. The smell of antiseptic and alcohol hangs heavy in the air, but your heart quickens as you finally spot Zayne sitting at one of the tables in the break room, his head in his hands as his slender fingers rub at the sides of his temple. He looks up as you enter, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

"Y/n, I'm so glad you're here," he says, his voice thick with emotion. He stands up and pulls you into a tight embrace, his strong arms enveloping you. You can feel the tension in his body, the stress and anxiety of his upcoming surgery weighing heavy on him.

He pulls back and looks at you, his eyes pleading. "I've missed you”, he says, holding the side of your face and making you blush at his sudden confession.

You reach up and run your fingers through his hair, fixing small pieces out of place.

"I've missed you too, Zayne," you murmuras you stand in his arms, holding a box in your hand he’s yet to ask about.

“A gift for me?” He chuckles, taking it after your little nudges.

He opens your scarf wrapped lunch box to reveal a beautiful assortment of sweets.

His eyes widen, embarrassed you know his guilty pleasure so well.

He winces, “you know…giving your doctor diabetes in a box is quite humorous.” He closes the lid, placing your gift on the counter behind him. “Nonethless…I’ll probably get through the entire thing by the end of the day…” He fesses up, smiling at you.

“Wait! At least try one first-!” You insist.

He sighs, knowing he can’t even try to say no to you.

You grab a chocolate covered strawberry since it wouod be the the first to melt, and let Zayne take a bite.

You watch with big eyes as he chews, nodding softly in response.

“Soooo?” You ask.

“It’s very nice, did you make these just for me?”

You nod, wiping away a small smear of chocolate in the corner of his mouth.

His eyes trail your hand before noticing residual chocolate.

As is it was the antidote to a poison, he grabs your wrists and puts the tip of your finger in his mouth, licking off the confectionery.

“Sorry…I really like it.”

You chuckle, “there’s more in the box-“

“I meant something else.” He says sternly.

It took a few seconds for what he said to register, but it was quickly reinforced when you felt his sweet lips touch yours, tasting hints of strawberry as his tongue tangles with yours, his soft groans filling the cavern of your mouth while the grip on your hand trials up to interlock your fingers together.

Before the kiss is broken, he’s got you pushed into a table, pausing just for a second to remove his fogged up glasses.

He groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "I need you, y/n. Please…” His breath is heavy, “I just need to feel something else, something good….you”.

You can feel the heat building between you as he backs you up against the table, body pressed flush against yours. His hands are all over you, gripping your hips, running up your thighs, tangling in your hair.

"Zayne, we can't do this in here-," you protest half-heartedly, even as you arch your back, pressing yourself against him. “Someone could walk in at any moment now-”.

"I don't care," he growls, his voice low and rough. "I need you” he groans, “so much.”

He lifts you up onto the table, pushing your skirt up around your waist. His fingers find your underwear, tugging them aside as he sinks to his knees in front of you. You gasp as his tongue finds your clit, his hands gripping your thighs as he devours you.

"Zayne, oh god," you moan, your hands fisting in his hair as he licks and sucks at you.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "You’re soaked…I think you might like the riskiness of this all?"

Before you could argue back, your words start to slur in retort as he dives back into you, placing your thighs on his shoulders as he continues his work on your most sensitive spot.

You can't deny the thrill that courses through you as you both skirt the line of danger.

Zayne's hands roam your body, exploring every inch of you as his tongue works its magic. You can feel yourself quickly spiraling towards release, your hips bucking against his face as you chase the feeling.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps outside the door, coming closer and closer. Panic sets in as you realize how exposed you are, but Zayne doesn't seem to care.

In fact, the danger only seems to turn him on more, his fingers plunging deeper inside of you as his tongue continues to flick back and forth, sucking on your pearl to make you moan even louder.

You bite your lip to keep from crying out as the footsteps pass by the door, the sound fading away into the distance. Zayne finally looks up at you, a wicked smile on his face.

"I told you, you liked the risk," he says, standing back up and soothing your head and helping you come down from your high.

“Perhaps, we should finish before someone really does walk in?”

You were run out of half asses excuse, and frankly you might have needed him more now.

In a snap decision, you pull the collar of his white coat and kiss him, tasting the remnants of yourself that coated his lips.

While his hands are focused on holding the sides of your neck, yours trial down his body; feeling every particular muscle down his chest and torso, your hand soothing over his abs under his shirt and unbuttoned coat before pulling the latch of his belt.

He lets out a deep groan against your mouth as you palm over his cock, painfully hard and most eager for your attention.

“Please…touch me more.” He begs, his forehead resting on yours, his eyes shut as he focuses on how good your hands feel.

You release him from his clothes, taking his erection into your hand, slowly pumping it just enough to illicit painful excitement from the doctor.

“Y/n- Please…I can’t take this.”

You look into his eyes, his warm and sultry glare that begs you to allow him release.

He gets closer to you, taking his own tip and smearing it up and down your slit, a sharp breathe leaving your nostrils.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, watching every inch of your face accept him before he plunges it inside you in one movement.

“A-Ah- Zayne…!” You moan, forgetting for a moment the height of your volume in such a vulnerable situation.

“I’m sorry- I just can’t…” his forehead falls on your shoulder, arm wrapped around your waist as the other curiously roams your body, tweaking your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. “Can’t get enough of you”.

You grip his shoulders tight, the white coat wrinkling under your firm fingers as the table behinds to rock.

He pounds you, painfully slow; savoring the engulfing feeling of your walls around every inch of him, his stress seeming to melt away while fucking you.

“God- I love you.” He whispers, more raspy and guttural the more and more he repeats it. Like a mantra, repeating the phrase over and over as he thrusts his cock deep inside you while you remain glued to him.

The intensity of the moment is almost overwhelming, but in the best way possible. The way Zayne looks at you, with pure desire and love, makes your heart race. You feel him inside you, every thrust, every whisper of love, every twitch of his cock.

Zayne continued to move inside you, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. The pleasure is building, tightening in your core, and you know that you're not going to be able to hold back much longer, reaching a plateau.

You tighten your legs around Zayne's waist, pulling him deeper inside you. “Y/n-“ He groans in response, his movements becoming more urgent as he chases his own release.

You can feel him getting closer, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he reaches the breaking point. And then, with one final thrust, he stills, burying himself deep inside you as he comes.

The feeling of him inside you, pulsing and throbbing, is enough to send you over the edge. You cry out, your orgasm rippling through you as you cling to Zayne, unable to let go. He holds you close, whispering words of love and devotion as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

As if it were a perfectly timed sign, you hear Zayne’s pager go off as soon as you two had composed yourself, giving him an encouraging kiss on the cheek as he’s on his way.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[circesastro]

Circe's Note #3

Note: These are just my own observations, ideas, thoughts and theories. This is just for entertainment purposes. Also, please be respectful of my observations! It is perfectly understandable to not resonate with some of my personal observations but please do not leave any disrespectful comments! Lastly, please don’t plagiarize/copy/steal any of my works! Without further ado, enjoy!

**All photos are from Pinterest**

MASTERLIST

✿ Aries Mars tend to have a quick reaction or just move very fast

✿ Men with Sagittarius placements tend to have a very active lifestyle. Also they LOVE to spend time in nature/outdoors 😭. Most of their hobbies include skydiving, hiking, camping, etc.

✿ Individuals with Virgo placements hate having leftover food sit in their fridge…

✿ Also, individuals with Cancer suns always seems so calm? Whether it’s true or not is a whole other story but they always seem like the shy and quiet upon first impression…ex: Ateez’s San, Seventeen’s Wonwoo, NCT’s Taeyong, etc.

✿ Virgos tend to do a lot of editing/proofreading before submitting anything (if they could change it afterwards, they would too)

✿ Sagittarius Mars on the other hand are on a whole other level of competitiveness like they’re out for blood…there’s Yuqi from G-idle, Gunwook from ZB1 and even Li Chen…. if you can't tell just watch running man china and you'll know what I'm talking about 🤣

✿ Remember the time when Seok Matthew (Cancer Mars) won an arm wrestling match with Kim Donghyun (6th best UFC Wrestler who participated in Physical 100/ Virgo Mars) but lost to Gunwook (Sagittarius Mars)? Yeah, out for blood

✿ I noticed that in many idol groups, idols with libra placements tend to get popular and praised for the way they act/their mannerisms and charisma…there’s something fresh and unique that they bring to the table that the audience loves (Ex: BTS’s Jimin, Aespa’s Ningning, Gidle’s Yuqi, NMixx’s Lily, SKZ’s Bang Chan, Monsta X’s Joohoney, P1Harmony’s Keeho, Shinee’s Key, etc.)

✿ There’s two types of Scorpio mars— 1) Relies on their strength and drive to get through things (ex: BTS’s Jungkook, Ateez’s San & Seventeen’s Dino) and then there’s 2) One who relies on their mentality and emotional strength to get through things (ex: BTS’s Jimin and Seventeen’s Jeonghan)

✿ You know what is funny? Cancer mars won't get into a physical fight but they are strong??? Their strength is kind of unexpected because they don’t use it all that much.

✿ Aries placement tend to have the type of beauty that captures people’s attention first (ex: Hyunjin of SKZ have an Aries Mars, Karina of Aespa is an Aries Sun + Venus, Mingyu of SVT is an Aries Sun + Venus, Lisa of BlackPink is a Aries Stellium, Jackson Wang is an Aries Sun + Venus, Asa + Ahyeon of BabyMonster is an Aries Sun + Mercury, Cha Eunwoo is an Aries Stellium, Ryujin of ITZY is an Aries stellium, etc.)

✿ Leo placements and their hyperfocus on their hair is so real like my mom is a Leo sun and she always say to take care of your hair, my brother is a Leo Venus and he would always style his hair and use multiple different products before leaving the house and my friend is a Leo Venus and she would change hairstyle every other month….

✿ Pisces Mars women make excellent "gold diggers". I think its because they easily play into people's fantasies. (Ex. Sheraseven, Lauren Sanchez, and my aunt in law 💀.) Also they have this intuition to knowing what it is that the other desires so it may come easier for them to play into the "ideal woman" but before you know it you're trapped...point is I think they can easily bag up a provider.

✿ Pisces Mars women in general seems like the ideal fantasy women. I also notice that their "mask" slips easily but they make it up just as quick. They are the type of people to play a persona/character so well that they eventually end up embodying that energy. (Ex. Marilyn Monroe, Paris Hilton, Im Yoona) Not saying that they are fake, I am just saying that these people often make others fall in love with their personas.

✿ Adding on to the previous statement pisces mars can make great manifestors and I think they will benefit a lot from Law of Assumption. Congratulations 🥳🎉.

✿ This might as well become a pisces mars (both men and women) post but i think its a great deal of delusion + intuition + acting that pisces mars end up manifesting their dream life. (quite literally delulu until it becomes trululu...)

MASTERLIST

[noxturnals-void]

Slashers with an s/o that’s always cold

Characters include:

Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Jesse Cromeans, Asa Emory

———————————————————————————

✨Chronic cold hands and feet gang unite✨

Tw: suggestions of nsfw (nothing described explicitly), characters being hard on themselves

———————————————————————————

Jason Voorhees:

Pre-zombie

He’s a big, warm guy.

You can cuddle against him and feel like you're hugging a heater.

Will give you bear hugs to heat you up at any time.

It can get pretty cold during the winter, so his lap is where you’ll be. He doesn’t mind.

He will hold your hands in his to warm them up whenever he notices your hands are too cold.

When you are out on walks together in the woods or around the campgrounds, you hold hands in his jacket pocket.

When you cuddle on the couch or in bed, he’ll make sure your hands and feet are always warm.

Post-zombie

Poor guy :(

He can’t comfort you how he used to now that he’s room temperature.

He’ll still try his absolute best to keep you warm with heated blankets and fuzzy socks.

Will give your hands and feet massages to stimulate blood flow.

He feels bad not being able to keep you warm as well during the winter, so he builds extra big fires just for you.

Will still give you bear hugs, even if they don’t warm you up.

Michael Myers:

He never lets you go anywhere alone, but that doesn’t mean he’s all over you.

When the urge for physical touch does happen, it’s rarely PG-13.

Outside of that, it’s uncommon for him to do things such as cuddle or hug.

When he is unusually tame, you will find him holding you.

He wants to be near you. Sometimes that means you are stuck to his chest, wrapped up in his arms, or pinned onto the couch or bed under his weight.

He may or may not let you put your hands under his mask to heat them up against his neck or face.

Fair warning: only try if you’re prepared to lose a hand.

If you don’t lose a hand, something’s wrong. Might be time for his yearly vet appointment.

Thomas Hewitt aka Leatherface:

This guy can’t keep his hands off of you.

He knows your hands and feet are always cold, even during the hot Texas summer.

He’s more than willing to share his body heat.

He will constantly worry about your hands and feet being so cold. Is your heart okay? He’s always going to be worried about your health.

If you want to work outside with him, he’ll let you, but don’t think you’re doing any heavy lifting when you’ve got him around.

He won’t deny that it’s nice to have your hands against the back of his neck, under his hair, or on his forehead, like a personal ice pack.

When you sleep, he will be the big spoon to ensure you are safe and warm the entire night.

Jesse Cromeans aka Chromeskull:

Pre-superest of super glues

Oh, this cocky bastard.

You want him to warm up your hands? Don’t worry, he will put your hands to good use, and they’ll be warm in no time ;)

Relishes in you cuddling up to him for warmth.

The way you shiver, complaining about your feet being cold as you shove them between his legs has him laughing.

Will definitely spoil you rotten with gifts.

You have a collection of luxury-brand thermal socks and expensive heating packs at your disposal for when he’s not around.

He will suggest exercise. Especially at-home yoga. It's good for your circulation. It’s good for his circulation to see you in some of those poses ;)

Post-superest of super glues

He’s less cocky now that he’s lost (what he believes) is one of his best attributes. His face.

He will be distant for a while; resisting giving into your physical affection despite your hands and feet being ice cubes. He can’t be your heater until he comes to terms with his own reality first.

He still buys you gifts, more so now that he’s constantly worried you will leave him if he doesn’t.

Instead of acting all smug and arrogant about you wanting him, he will try to enjoy the fact you still want to be near him.

His affirmations that you still care about him come from you still sticking your ice-cold hands up his sleeves to make him jump, or your frozen feet sliding between his legs seeking warmth when you sleep together at night.

He would never admit it, but your cold hands on his face make him feel normal again.

Asa Emory aka The Collector:

Oh, he’s intrigued.

You have chronically cold hands and feet?

Do you have anemia? Poor circulation? Thyroid issues? Autoimmune disorder? Best believe he will force you to get checked for every possibility; if you haven’t already done so.

If nothing comes up, he will suggest exercise.

You are welcome to join him on his morning runs or occasional bouts to the gym.

Of course, he’s more than willing to warm you up in alternative ways ;)

He’s a busy man, balancing his work and extracurricular activities, so he won’t always be around for you to warm up against.

When that's the case, you have plenty of stuff he’s provided for you.

When he is around and notices your abnormally cold hands or feet, he will address it silently, handing you fuzzy socks or a heating pad.

He’s got to make sure his favorite pet stays in good health after all ;)

[hotd-bigbang]

Author: @valleyof-goldenlilies | Artist: @asa-do-your-thing

Title: Skori Zaldrizes Ropagon [When Dragons Fall] | Category: F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi | Rating: Mature. | Word count: 10.2k

Warnings: Major character death.

Summary: When Prince Jacaerys Velaryon first hears of the prophecy foretelling his family’s impending doom and death in the succession war later dubbed by historians as the ‘Dance of the Dragons’, he is disbelieving. As the conflict begins, however, he finds himself increasingly tortured and haunted by the words of the prophecy, which clouds his rationality. Saved from certain death by a mysterious woman whom he soon becomes enamoured with, Jacaerys soon finds himself becoming dependent on her company, as well as her mystical insights and visions of the future. Determined to win the war at all costs, he sets out to change the fate of his family, but all is not what it seems. After all, all men are self-serving, and the mysterious woman is no exception.

Read the full story on AO3.

Created as part of the House of the Dragon Big Bang '23 event on @hotd-bigbang

[whisper-in-the-night]

The author can tell the story with Asa /the Sinclair brothers/Or Brahms. You can choose who you want! How is your recent story with Thomas (it's great) can the above listed slashers be omegas and Y/N alpha?

I've been on Tumblr recently, and there are some things I don't understand what and how. By your recent post, I thought you were taking applications.📿✒️

Omega!Slasher x alpha!male!reader

Warnings: alpha!slashers, omega!reader, omegaverse

Note: thanks for your request honey! Hope you'll like it. Have a good day ;) ♡⁠

•••

Asa Emory

Asa didn't like people, no. The insects were much better. Insects were useful, but what about people? They just buzz, drink and lead a dirty lifestyle. He didn't have a special appearance, on the contrary, he was quite a big man for an omega who was really able to interest someone and find a mate. But he didn't worry too much about it either. People were loud, repulsive.

But you seemed different. There was something so calm and attractive about you. He felt like a fly caught in your sticky web, even though he didn't really mind it. At first, it was strange to have someone around. Emory was a loner. But over time, he realized that you can really be relied upon and trusted. The man might not have noticed you among other small human ants. But that day you were standing in your own garden. You had a private house with a small garden full of flowers. It seemed like you were a hardworking person who loved nature. You were trimming one of your bushes when a pale blue butterfly landed on your shoulder. This startled Asa. After all, animals and insects always feel good people, they are attracted to them. So you weren't like other people.

And now he was here.

It was getting dark. The lights were still on in your house. You were sitting in the living room by the fireplace in your country house and reading one of your favorite books. It was nice to live away from people, the hustle and bustle of the city. The wood crackled steadily in the fire. The room was warm and cozy, your feet were warmed by a brown blanket you bought once at a sale in another city. Your fingers slowly turned over the pages, while your tired gaze slowly slid over the black lines. It's too early to sleep, not yet.

You've been alone for the last two weeks, but you knew that the day of the calendar was coming when he was coming back. You don't know why he comes back from time to time, maybe he was really comfortable with you. Although he was clearly not that kind of person. He would rather call it.. the necessity. You can't fool your own physiology with even a ton of suppressants.

Finally, there was the click of the front door, which you never closed, there was just no reason. There were slow, unhurried footsteps in the hallway, as if you were waiting. And for sure, today you left the light on in the hallway, perhaps this little detail alerted him, the man who loved to move around in the dark like some kind of virtuoso moth. Finally, the heavy boots touched the soft carpet material, and the steps became softer. Perhaps you should still teach him to take off his shoes at the entrance.

A moment later, your blanket was thrown off, and now was laying at your feet. A feeling of heaviness covered your hips. You didn't have to look down to know that the man had his head on your lap. He always did that. He came when he wanted to. Did what he wanted to do. He knew he could get away with it, but he didn't know why. He probably would never have been able to really kill you, even though he still acted like he had a knife at the ready. But none of his blades were worthy of slicing through your tender flesh.

You slammed the book shut with a light clap, having previously put your favorite bookmark with painted butterflies, and put it on the edge of the sofa. Your fingers found their way to Asa's head, caressing his cheeks with the pads of your fingers through the material of his mask. It was a strange material that you had never touched before. Something soft and rough at the same time. It looked a bit like the robbers' masks, but it seemed like he had made it himself.

The man made a soft purring sound as he leaned into your touch.

It was strange to have such a big man on my lap. He was really big, especially considering his secondary gender, which he would never tell anyone about, except perhaps you. Even his former work colleagues were unaware of his omega status. It just wasn't necessary. But it seemed different with you. Even after several vaccinations, you could still clearly smell his beeswax and verbena. Even now, under the mixture of dirt, gunpowder and blood, you could still feel that delicate fragrance, causing a smile on your lips.

Asa sighed, finally closing his eyes and clasping his hands on his chest. He probably hasn't slept in days, which is not surprising. He often stayed up late, thinking through all his riddles and traps. Although it is possible that all this week he was just reading a book about insects and plants that you gave him for his birthday.

Lately, the man has been almost.. clingy. Every time he got closer to his heat, Asa became unusually clingy and looking for touch. Your touch. Up to this point, his every heat was accompanied by pain and anxiety. The suppressants didn't always help, and the people around were too intrusive. Especially alphas. He remembers how, back in his teenage years, some alpha harassed Asa. The guy broke his nose. In principle, he often reacted aggressively to the attention of others. The quiet and secretive man, capable of ripping open the belly of an offender. His temper and uncontrollable aggression often got out of control, which led to sad consequences.

But it was different with you. Your touch felt so.. alive, sincere, gentle. Each time it made him have a sudden urge to take off his mask and feel your hands on his bare skin. But he immediately stopped himself, realizing that he would regret it later. The mask stays on.

You were a good alpha. So much so that something inside him reached out to you, seeking your touch and love. Asa isn't used to love. Isn't used to tenderness. But with you, he felt like he wanted to be pampered, wanted to be taken care of. Although it looks like regular one-night stands to you right now, it's far from the case for Asa. Perhaps one day he will even reveal his face to you. Would you like him? Would you like to start a family with him? Family... He's not sure he could stand the idea of children, no. But with you, everything seemed real. You were his support in life, his firefly in this dark world, even though you didn't know it yet.

But no, that's all later. Let him sleep on your lap for now. Maybe your back will hurt tomorrow because of the uncomfortable sleeping position, but it's worth it, isn't it?

Bo Sinclair

It was a sultry summer day. The sun was high in the sky, and the humid air made being outside even more unbearable.

You were with your boyfriend Bo at his gas station and helped him sort out the parts in the victims' old cars. There was no air conditioning in the room, so you, already soaked with sweat and grueling work, were without a T-shirt, in only loose trousers. You often begged Bo to go to a store in another city to buy you more suitable summer clothes, but each time you two found yourself overwhelmed with work.

When you were taking out another box of garbage, you noticed a car approaching. Regular tourists, even in this heat? Fate is obviously against you. After putting the box on the ground, you crossed your arms over your chest, leaned against the wall of the gas station, and watched the girls getting out of the car. They were two short girls and a guy with them who stayed in the car.

"Hey, handsome. Could you take a look at our car? There was something pounding in it all the way," one of the girls said with a slight smile, obviously flirting with you.

You smiled back, wanting to enter a new game and show all your skills and charisma in the best light. "Sure, babe. Give me a few minutes." You walked up to their car, lifted the hood, and began to pretend that you were really looking for a breakdown. Although in fact, you just needed to stall for a little while until Bo noticed what was happening through the window. The girl came a little closer, as if carefully watching your examination, while her slender fingers slowly slid up your strong arm. You grinned as you watched her. Your gaze darted to the guy in the passenger seat. He could be a problem. You smiled benevolently and nodded towards the gas station, "Buddy, why don't you call my friend? He's insane. I could use someone else's help."

The guy rolls his eyes, but gets out of the car and soon disappears inside the gas station. You know perfectly well that Bo will deal with him skillfully.

The girl's actions stop for a moment and she looks at you from under her eyelashes, seductively biting her lower lip. "Can you tell me where the toilet is here?"You chuckle and wink at her, leaving an ambiguous hint, "The second door on the left." The girl nods contentedly and enters the building, playfully wagging her hips.

You quietly approach the remaining girl while she looks after her departing friend, and grab a hunting knife from your pants pocket, cutting the fragile girl's throat with a sharp movement. When the lifeless body ends up on the floor with a thud , you fold the knife and return to the gas station. The girl was just coming out of the bathroom. You grab her wrist, trying to block her view of the window with your wide body, and squeeze her hips, pulling her closer to you.

"Come on, you didn't think of leaving so easily, did you?" You purred with a grin, burying your nose in the girl's neck. The cloying scent of cheap perfume and disgusting, almost artificial pheromones immediately hit your nose. "I bet that lad is really boring, right, baby?" You spoke into her neck, trying to play the interest. You were already reaching for the knife in your pants pocket when the girl let out a sharp scream, clutching at her throat. You took a step back, raising your eyebrows questioningly, and saw that your lover's screwdriver was pierced through the woman's neck.

Bo grabs the girl's hand and throws her to the floor. The poor girl clutches at her throat, choking on her own blood. The smirk on your face becomes more noticeable when you notice Bo's dark eyes burning with jealousy. The man steps over the girl's legs and comes closer to you, grabbing you by the neck and pressing you against the wall. You giggle, covering his hand with yours.

"What, baby? You don't like it when I use your methods, do you?" You purred, watching Bo's face contort in anger.

"Shut up."

His strong arms are gripping your shoulders, and his nose is burrowing into your neck. He showers your skin with careless kisses, circling around your scent glands. He mumbles something softly, and you feel his already bright pheromones amplify. A million times better than that girl's smell. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling Bo closer, to which he mumbled contentedly. You always liked how jealous and possessive he became in those moments when he realized that he really loved you and that, damn it, he wasn't ready to share you with anyone else. You were his alpha, and he was your omega, although he would never say it out loud. He often denied this desire, refusing to really consolidate this connection. After all, people would rather settle on a free omega to claim than a marked one. Alphas don't like to take other's stuff. But seeing other omegas circling around you, enjoying your pheromones, made him mad. Anger was bubbling deep in his stomach, and his heart was clenching.

"What is it? Jealous?"

Bo lets out a slight growl and tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck to you. His fingers are gripping your shoulders tightly.

"Mark me," he mutters, looking down at the floor.

"Baby, you're not in heat right now.."

"Mark me. Now. Please.." his voice almost trembles, and you tighten your grip on his waist, "Mark me. Show me that you need me... that you want me, not them."

You pulled him closer, touching his neck with your lips and showering small kisses on his skin. A soft sigh escapes from Beau, he closes his eyes. Finally, you sink your fangs into his sensitive spot, the man's body shudders with pleasure. Even if he is not in heat now and the mark will be short-lived, it gives him a strange feeling of calm. He belongs to you. He's yours. And you're his. Nobody else's.

"..thank you."

Brahms Heelshire

You were walking slowly through the mansion, heading towards Brahms. The last item on the list remains: the night kiss. Lately, Brahms has looked kind of nervous and detached, although not so long ago he threw a tantrum after Malcolm delivered groceries once again and stayed a little longer than usual, chatting with you just about nothing. After that, Brahms made a real mess. He even refused dinner, which was unlike him. Although this man was basically quite strange because of his upbringing, you couldn't blame him.

You knocked gently on the wooden door, clutching a mug of warm mint tea. It was supposed to help your boy sleep. There was no response. But you heard the distinct creak of the bed and a slight whine.

Frowning, you pulled the door handle and went into the room. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. Brahms was sitting on his large bed surrounded by clothes. Your clothes. His hands were convulsively clutching your clothes, shifting shirts from place to place the way he wanted. The man took one of the shirts and held it up to his face, taking a deep breath. His mask was pushed up just enough to show his nose and lips. Bitten lips with blood in some places. He seemed to be trying very hard to hide the sounds he was making. Brahms let out a soft whine, clutching one of your favorite shirts to your chest, which you wore this morning because it was cool in the garden.

It seems your boy was pushing you away without realizing that he needed your presence.

You let out a short laugh and entered the room. Putting the mug of tea on the dresser, you walked over to the bed. Brahms immediately tensed up when he heard someone else's footsteps. Looking up, the man caught your gaze and let out a slight whine. Right now, he looked like a lost needy puppy. You could swear that if he were a dog, his ears would be desperately pressed to his head right now, and his tail would be tapping on this mountain of clothes around him. Brahms crawled to the edge of the bed on his knees and grabbed the edge of your T-shirt with his fingers. His grip was strong, yearning, and his eyes were full of unspoken emotions. He didn't know what was going on with him, he didn't know why he felt that way and why he was doing these things, so he hoped that you would help him.

Your hand gently touched his hair, your fingers gently played with the curly strands. The man bent down to your touch, making a soft sob, and closed his eyes. Your hands were always so gentle and caring, you weren't like his past babysitters, you were different. You were good and kind, you even treated his doll well, like a real person. And now you've treated him well too.

With your free hand, you touched his chin gently, pulling his thumb away from his skillful lips. A few greased drops of blood were on your skin, but Brahms immediately, almost instinctively, wrapped your finger tongue, cleaning it from the lingonberry color liquid. He looked at you with those big brown eyes of a puppy, and you couldn't smile. His lips gently wrapped your finger, wanting to make you feel good. You always did everything he felt good, maybe he should be make you feel too..? You gently pulled him by the hair, laying on the bed. The large body of the man touched your clothes neatly folded into the improvised nest. You lay beside him, sipping Brahms gently to yourself. Even though Brahms was a big man, you were a little bigger than him, more muscular and strong. It always made Brahms feel small and free. He didn't have to hide under the mask, he didn't have to hide in the walls, no. Brahms was just a few minutes away. You took it all, with his problems, his capricious and his appearance. You loved him for himself. He was your little boy.

Brahms wrapped his arms around your waist, snorting his nose in your chest and squeak softly. With every second his body burned harder and harder, and in his head seemed to be a light mist. He was holding his nose harder in your chest, looking for comfort. You gently ran your hand over his hair, releasing the soothing pheromones through your groin glands. Brahms relaxed a little while, enjoying your smell. You always had your effect on him. Maybe he was your true omega. But it wasn't important now.

You pulled the man closer you, gently humming a lullaby , and pressed a kiss to his mask's forehead.

"Sweet dreams, baby."

[sinfulwrites]

Their Favorite Sex Positions

Hello hello~ I was scrolling my dash and came across @missjellyhead and her post on the same topic and wanted to write my own with my faves... Give their post some love! I messaged them for permission, but I'm not sure if they're active lately....

I'm trying to get back into the groove of writing again. Please accept this small drabble!

Enjoy!

NSFW warning.

Michael Myers: Michael is prone to having sex wherever he is. Why waste time going to the bedroom when he could fuck you now against the wall? Michael can hold you up effortlessly, so if your legs are getting tired, he will simply scoop up your legs and continue fucking you. If a table is nearby, Michael will bend you over it and fuck you from behind. If there’s anything on those tables, they will be rocked off by the strength of his hips. If you are in bed, though, he is still inclined to fuck you from behind. He feels more comfortable taking his mask off and biting on your shoulders when you can’t see his face.

Jason Voorhees: Sex is a sacred thing to Jason. His beliefs are rather traditional, and as such, his preference is missionary. In the bed, in a dark room where he can be comfortable taking his mask off and lavishing you with kisses. Jason is not opposed to other positions, but his go-to will always be missionary. In his mind, doggy style is the dirtiest.

Thomas Hewitt: Thomas was raised in a traditional home. He was taught that sex was purely for making a baby, and it would be done in missionary under the blankets. Meeting you and starting a sexual relationship had changed his views on the matter, but he is still inclined to fuck you in missionary. He loves the closeness, seeing the faces you made in response to what he did to you, and of course being able to kiss you. In the early mornings before his work, Thomas liked to pull you close against him and have some slow morning sex. Spooning you allows him to keep you even closer than missionary can, and allows him to have a shameless grab at your chest. There has also been more than one occasion of you two being outside the home getting in a quickie in Thomas’s lap. Riding him is a treat to him, as he has an obligation to himself to make you feel good. Knowing you want him to feel good gets him all emotional afterwards. Expect a tight hug and tons of kisses.

Asa Emory: When Asa fucks, he fucks hard. If the bed isn’t slamming into the wall, he’s not doing it right. Doggy style gives him the freedom to pound into you without your hips and thighs restricting him. His preference for anal also makes it even more appealing. Doing it from behind also gives him the freedom to slap your ass and yank your hair back to whisper in your ear about how much of a slut you are. Watching your face as he fucks you is also ideal, however, so if he fucks you from the front he shoves your knees into your chest to give himself complete access to slam his hips into you. He will use rope to tie your legs where he wants them so he can leave his hands free to choke you as his cock knocks the wind out of you. We would be here all day if we brought up all his bonds and sex chairs…

Jesse Cromeans: Jesse loves to see the faces you make as his cock slides in and out of you. He especially loves to make you see yourself with his mask. Spreading your legs and fucking you on your back is a safe position for him, but it is far from the only way he enjoys you. His favorite is fucking you in front of his giant mirrors. Jesse will bend you over on your hands and knees and fuck you from behind so he can pull your hair and make you watch in the mirror as his hips slam against your ass. He shamelessly enjoys being ridden and will happily prop himself up on his pillows and let you ride away. He loves to film you riding his cock, and he will definitely have you watch the tape with him later. Other days, he will have you ride in reverse to watch it in his mirrors. In the back of his car, he loves to make you ride him until the car is rocking. 

[ebonyslasher]

Can you do more yandere slashers part 2 please.

Hopefully, I'm getting better at writing yandere characters! There are some possible triggering themes ahead so read with caution.

Roses are red, violets are blue

Here's

Yandere!Slashers Pt. 2!

A strained sob bounced against the dingy walls that you were held captive in. Your existence, normally happy and calm, turned desperate and miserable. You looked around with teary eyes, taking in your unfortunate new home. The air was littered with specks of dust, paint torn from the walls, and all the windows crudely covered and broken. It was a scene taken from a horror movie that you desperately did not want to be in. The tears silently flow down your face before the raggedy door flings open.

A shadowy, foreboding figure stood tall at the door frame. You recognized that figure, it was the one who kidnapped you to this horrid place.

“Please ... .please let me go…,” you whimpered out, your sobbing revitalizing before this monster. He stepped forward and you shrunk back. He stops. The next movement he made your heart stop. Michael flings a body beside you. The patch of light coming from the mostly covered window showed the gouged out eyes of your crush. They lay lifeless and their once beautiful face was now covered with blood. 

The image of a dead body, especially of someone you knew, caused you to hyperventilate. Feeling an extreme urge to flee, you stand up and attempt to run towards the door. Michael grabs your arm painfully and throws you down.

“Let me go, let me go! You monster!” you screamed. You attempt to stand again when Michael kicks at your legs. He quickly places his dirty boot on your right leg, right on the tibia. Stomping down, Michael relishes in your painful cry after the sickening snap of your bone. You could not run from him and he could not be happier.

—--

Michael knew everyone who lived in Haddonfield. Most by their identifiable features and home addresses.

Michael stalked all his victims, but only for a short time as their existence would not last long.

However, if he becomes obsessed, not only will he stalk them every single day. He will keep them alive for an undecided amount of time.

As you place your existence in Haddonfield, Michael becomes hooked. 

He paid attention to your needs, placing toiletries that you ran out of/low on in various places in your house. It escalates into leisure items that you spoke about with your friends. Things that he knew that you knew you did not purchase

Making himself known, he begins to appear and reappear in different places, from a distance. Toying with you.

Anyone who will get in the way will be removed, permanently. Especially any love interest.

He is not above harming you to make you submit, stay, and be quiet. He knew what was best for you.

Injuries looked especially good on you anyway

“Kitten ... .how disappointing,” Asa remarks, seeing the piss-poor excuse of a Valentine's Day present on his bed. It was made haphazardly, the paper mache butterfly looked tattered with paint, some sort of adhesive, and drenched paper.

Asa had shown you how to do the technique weeks ago, disguising the activity as a fun bonding moment. He made an off-handed comment that a paper mache insect would be a great gift for Valentine’s Day. Of course, his smart little kitty caught the hint. But, it was obvious that you did not practice enough. 

You sat upon the bed, head down in embarrassment at the state of your gift. “Asa, I tried! I really did! You know I’m not that good at-” You started to explain. Asa put his hand up and you stopped talking immediately.

“You had ample time to practice, y/n. But, you did not. Therefore, you will be punished. Get on all fours on top of your disaster,” Asa instructed coldly. You did so, feeling humiliated at the action. You desperately wanted to make this up to him while also feeling apprehension at the punishment. 

Asa starts to hit your back and ass with his hands. You endure, but the force of his hits ends up making you fall on top of your gift. The burn of his hits combined with the uncomfortable feeling of wet paper and glue slathering your stomach. It made you cry out, strengthening the boner Asa had. 

---

Anyone who’s moving, living, or even traveling through the town gets observed by Asa. When you arrive, you capture his interest in ways he never thought possible. 

He searched your name, address (and floor plan if available), and knew all your family members. He breaks in to look at everything you have.

 He had notes dedicated to what you like to eat, what size of clothes you wear, etc. 

Once he captures you, he doesn’t make you a part of his collection. Instead, you'll be his personal pet. A little kitty he can enjoy. 

Life was starting to get a little boring. Your existence changed his life. He just needed to train you so you would not be useless to him.

His training includes the way you react (in the way that he likes), enduring physical punishment and sexual sensory overloads, how to care for him correctly, etc. 

Any spouse, family, or friends that were living with you are now part of his collection. They would be a distraction to your duties.

If you perform extremely poorly, he will drag you across the floor to see any loved ones in the collection. Digging his fingers into your eyelids to force you to look at their display.

“Dr. Lecter?,” You asked as you knocked lightly on his office door. You let yourself into his practice, as was normal for your appointments. 

“Y/N, please come in,” he said smoothly so as to not betray his excitement at your arrival.

You plop down on the sofa across from him and your weekly sessions begin. You’d had them for a month now. It was last week when you noticed that you were getting weirdly attached and attracted to Dr. Hannibal. It wasn’t right with the power dynamics in your current relationship. Also, all the blaring issues he knew about your life. This did not dissuade your budding feelings, with the unintentional help of Hannibal. He did not know that your conflicted romantic feelings were about him. It was like he always knew the right thing to say. He spurred your mind to think outside the box or his perspective. Everything he said, he seemed to always be right about. 

“.....I feel a romantic connection to this person, but I know I shouldn’t,” You say.

“And why not?” He questioned

“Our relationship right now…it would be inappropriate to say the least.”

Hannibal leaned forward, his face schooled in its perfect neutral expression. Internally, he was fighting a smirk to bless his sharp features. “And what is love without risk?”

“....I…”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t know, y/n. I am merely throwing out a different perspective. You like this person right? What makes it inappropriate?”

“His…status and title do. The power dynamics would be unequal,” you say, trying to be as vague as possible.

“It will always be unequal. You possess powers that he would not have. And vice versa. Titles mean nothing. You see, I am your psychiatrist. I know who you are, I can see the power that you have. A relationship between you and me would be risky, in the eyes of others. But, only our eyes matter in the end.”

“A relationship between us two…?”

“Just as an example, Y/n. To help you see the big picture.”

--

You were his patient. He fell in love, becoming obsessed with you. You looked like the perfect partner, one to parade around at the envy of others. 

He would make sure to format your mind to see how perfect you two would be. That he would be the only one for you. 

Hannibal being Hannibal does this covertly, planting seeds into your head every session. He even stops taking payment for your appointments, to ensure you would still come.

The medication he would prescribe you was a level of biochemical control over your emotions. He knew the side effects and how the medication would affect your mood after you took them. 

He acts like the perfect gentleman. He has perused your home, making sure to have items that you need or want coincidentally at appointments. 

Anyone who is a threat to you or the budding relationship will be removed.

You will see them for the last time, served as a decadent meal. He will feed them to you, without your knowledge

“Taylor Layknn’s party is in two days, I’ve taken the liberty of picking out your look for you,” Patrick says dismissively. He thrust the outfit into your arms as he checked his phone. You stood flabbergasted at his gall.

“Patrick, I already had an outfit planned out,” you explain. You look over the outfit, trying to imagine how it would look on you.

“Yes I know, but I saw this while shopping and thought about you immediately. I knew it would be flattering on you. It goes with what I’m wearing. We’ll look great together.” Patrick looks straight into your eyes, watching your reaction.

You felt annoyed, a little offended, but flattered that he thought of you. “That’s sweet, but I don’t think that’s exactly my style.” You began to hand the outfit back to him. He thrusts the outfit back against your chest.

“It is your style and you don’t even know it. Here, look at how the color compliments your skin. How it’ll hug your figure in the right places. You know, most of these bitches don’t even know how to dress. You’ll be the talk of the night if you just listen to me.”

--

He tries to shelter your interactions from others, feeding you lies and pretending like he is giving you inside information to gain your trust

He purposefully talks bad and compassionate about others to uplift himself in your presence, disguising it as competition.

He is always extra with his appearance but was even more so when he knew you were going to be there.

He even wears the cologne that you love. He sends you flowers, your favorite ones, to show how much attention he paid to you

Once he has you wrapped around his finger, He tells you what to say and how to act. He needs you to be the perfect partner that even Paul Allen would be jealous of. 

The desperate yuppie that he is needs you to look and act a certain way to fit in with the 'in-group'.

He buys you clothing and expects you to wear it for him. He will send you makeup tutorial videos that he likes.

Patrick will also send photos and videos of people with what he thinks is the ultimate body type. He will do whatever to shape and mold you into his perfect partner.

Patrick has a doll that looks like you in his office drawer. He dresses up in what he would want you to wear. He has another at home where he acts out fantasies of your eventual marriage. 

He constantly questions where you are or slyly questions others. He gets mad if he isn’t invited anywhere, especially to his favorite place.

If he could, he dreams of hiring you as his personal assistant (if that was your profession). He has thought many times about firing his current assistant just to have you perched there, sitting pretty.