#denis have mercy on me

[illiana-mystery]

There he goes again...being smoking hot.

[rin-solo]

Hello and welcome to some silly Vengeance Saga doodles including my contribution to the elite "Poseidon and Athena share a hospital room" concept :3

Ft. Traumatized to Unhinged Odysseus and Vlogger Hermes

[aboutmercy]

thinking about how dongsik and joowon are the inverse of each other. thinking about joowon's journey realizing that blood is not thicker than water, ties can be severed from abusive family members (no matter how painful that is) and that among many things, his father's cruelty is what took away and destroyed dongsik's family who actually were a positive force in his life. many things about beyond evil appeal to me, but i mainly want to put a pin on the central themes of the show, particularly the failures of adults and parental figures, how that ripples through the lives of their successors in an especially vicious and self-destructive manner. this is a commonality found between multiple characters in the show (minjeong, joowon and jeongje) - but i want to put emphasis on joowon's struggle with this because his path to freedom was walked to completion, in comparison to minjeong whose life was cut short and jeongje who we part with carrying the painful knowledge that he may never achieve absolution, as his journey has only begun.

the show, technically starts at the beginning of joowon's journey/arc. unfamiliarity and discomfort force him to adapt and self-reflect, because the only way joowon was able to free himself was by breaking every rule his father set for him, going beyond his selfish confines and breaking down the walls he built. joowon is unable to get his physical body dirty, he is emotionally closed-off and is incapable of understanding why the people in manyang, particularly dongsik, would look out for anyone other than themselves. he is selfish, rigid, guilt-ridden and bashful; but it is exposure to dongsik's unwavering faith in and patience for others (for jeongje, for sangbae, for the people of manyang that have wronged him for years) that erode his harsh edges. dongsik, although not without flaws and contrary to what his outer appearance and manner of speech radiate, is kind and forgiving. that kindess, that forgiveness, as well as joowon's own guilt and shame is essential to getting him to a point where he is comfortable bloodying his hands, his clothes, and his face to protect dongsik (+ jihwa and her partner. to protect his friends).

dongsik recognizes joowon's pain too ("i know what it's like to be blamed for something you didn't do"). he sees his guilt, it's not inordinate to what joowon's done per se but a large portion of it brings so much shame to joowon ("please, stop doing unnecessary things out of guilt.") how could i have been so self-righteous when the man who bore me is responsible for so much misery? how do i rectify this, how do i absolve myself from the guilt? all dilemmas joowon grapples with, and dongsik, knowing pain and shame all too well does not grant joowon mercy when he is bowed down, forehead to cuffed hands while joowon's own are also cupping dongsik's, begging for it. mercy is letting joowon go, it's lifting the burden of responsibility off his shoulders - but instead, dongsik’s final request ensures that joowon truly atones ("i ask you to arrest me" - "no, how could i do that? i have no right") by informing him that the only way to live with guilt is to try and do right by the people who expect something from him. "joowon-ah", dongsik says as he softly picks up joowon's clenched fist, the look they share informs joowon that going through with the arrest is how he'll do dongsik right. it's what dongsik, his now friend, expects from him. that's what their final scene as partners is all about, in my opinion.

and something good does come out of dongsik's firm but tender confrontation. joowon gradually becomes a better person who seeks community and whose life, in return, is enriched by the friends that forming community gave him. dongsik and joowon's parting is bittersweet, but in letting joowon know that his actions matter to others and that he is wanted and expected by others - (jihwa, as part of the larger collective whose feelings towards joowon are influenced by dongsik's, texts him and checks in - that expectation to show up and empathy for when he does not respond is an invitation letting him know that there is a place for him if he chooses to occupy any) - dongsik sets him free.

[clannfearrunt]

Watching my the father’s internal struggle between “happy his child is taking an interest in gardening” and “appalled and displeased they are growing fucking weeds” has been such a phenomenon. Today when I was setting up my new planter (to plant buffalo bur) he was giving me genuine advice on how best to use this particular planter and the right soil type and whatnot and then he’d like come to his senses or something and be like “man why are you planting weeds in this”. Which considering the planter is a fancy guy designed for efficient vegetable gardening, kind of fair! The question I have to pose in response though is would you prefer I plant my beautiful native “””noxious weed””” plants in the ground where they actually belong

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Ah fuck it whatever

There's something I love about the new Consequences AU and how it compares to the AUs and music it's come from.

Where things like Roxy's old kingdom being destroyed and her being almost drowned as a baby are metaphorical, there's a lot of things that strangely aren't. Roxy specifically denying the gods and the powers that be is something she does in most of my interpretations of her. The gods in most situations, isn't a spooky green rabbit, it's the people in the Fazbear boardroom making the world's worst decisions ever. To the animatronics, they are the gods. There's no higher authority than them, and they can have them destroyed without ever having met them, at just a moment's notice, for seemingly no reason.

Bonnie once believing in the gods and turning against them works like it does for most of the animatronics too. Even just questioning Fazbear isn't something many of them have been able to do, but all of them will eventually learn to. The more they learn through Roxy, despite what they might have known before, the more they realise what kind of company they've been forced to be a part of.

And Roxy's attitude towards these gods is always the same. She won't pretend to be nice to people she knows don't care about her. She won't put any extra effort into maintaining social etiquette if there's no point, if there's nothing for her to gain from it. Fazbear CEOs and board members have hurt her so much already, she doesn't give a flying shit about them, she's not wasting her time on them unless she absolutely has to. In this universe, the same can be said about the gods. She doesn't care for them and they don't care about her, so why bother? They've told like six people to assassinate her already, why would she choose to listen to them?

Roxy's relationship with the Minis and DJ? That's the same as it is across the board with most of the AUs I have. The attempt on Roxy's life when she's barely been born is shown differently in the new AU, but is still the same concept. Some things have been shifted around, such as the specific motivations, but not by a lot. I suppose Bonnie's dad in this fills the roll of Vanessa if Vanessa was also actually Mimic? He doesn't have an exact match here in terms of scale, but the comparisons are there.

The whole kingdom being destroyed, Roxy finding out that that's where she originally came from, that she was the newborn prince with a wholeass family she's never known, all lines up so well with everything else too. The pizzeria, scrapped storage, the old attractions there before her racetrack, it's all gone and she knew nothing about it. She's once again found out the truth in possibly the worst way imagineable, and she doesn't know what to do with this information, but honestly, who would?

The biggest difference there is that in this new AU, Roxy has the choice of what to do. In what's basically canon to the game, Roxy doesn't have that choice and likely never will. Where she's had to sacrifice her Raceway and Salon, sacrifice the vast majority of her life and her purpose for the safety of everyone around her, in this universe, she can choose not to. She sacrifices certainty this time, something she can regain as time goes on but in any other universe, there is never any certainty to get back. There will always be a Mimic threat and she can't get any of her old life back until it's dead and gone. She has to pay a price to keep Mimic contained, and while the Afton/Glitchtrap gods scramble to convince her otherwise, the Roxy in this new AU does have the choice whether she pays it or not.

But she will always still have to deal with the consequences of those with power. Every single time. And every single time so far, her entire existence is the consequence for them. Her life overall has not been the result of her own choices, but rather, the choices of people that never cared about her to begin with...

At least in this new universe she has a good childhood to fall back on and a cool ass horsie. And can actually do something about this shit. She can't normally do that :(

[aromanticasterisms]

okay penacony has been very fun so far but the only thing to actually make me say Oh Shit out loud was acheron saying yae sakura's line. anyway

[lavellane]

i cannot believe im saying this but ive been thinking about my cousland and sten all morning and theyre making me insane

[nerdie-faerie]

Feeling a lil vindictive, a lil nasty this morning

So context, my brother had a work do last night and before he left he told my mum he'd becoming back here and doing so alone. So tell me why he called me at 3am when I'm trying to sleep but travel anxiety and says he's bringing two mates back? I tell him he can't I'm leaving at 6 tomorrow he just goes yeah they'll just be passing through your room. No I've gotta get up in 3 hours you can't be keeping up, yeah it's fine. The fuck it is not

Anyway so my alarm goes off 3 hours later I've barely slept, my brain already woke me up several times prior but that doesn't mean I'm turning my alarms off immediately or getting ready quietly after the prick disturbed my sleep

[ahmadalanqar1993]

In the midst of war, stories are born—some from the noise of bombs 💥 and cries of fear 😱, others from a mother’s tears 😭 as she watches her children , not

only from the dangers of weapons 💣 but from hunger 🍞 and disease 🤒.💔🌧️

In a small neighborhood in Gaza 🏘️, I live with my four children: Qusay, Jouri, Mohammed, and Adam. Poverty and hunger aren’t the only wounds in our lives; there’s another wound that burdens me and deepens our suffering. It’s the skin disease 🦠 that has affected me and my children, making each day feel like a new punishment ⚖️ added to a long list imposed by the harsh realities of war. I see the effects of the disease on my children; I see their innocent eyes 👀, weary from tears and pain 😢, their small, thin bodies 👦🏻👧🏻 weakened by malnutrition 🍲, and the innocence that is slowly vanishing under life’s cruelty.😞🩹🍞💔

Our suffering isn’t simple. War has shut the doors 🚪 of hope in my face. Many times, I’ve tried to find treatment for my children 🏥, but each time, war’s hand ✋ reaches out to deny us even the dream of good health 🛑. My heart 💔 aches as I look at them, feeling helpless 😔—an emotion I had never known before.

Qusay, my eldest at twelve 👦🏼, is a determined boy. He loves studying 📚 and dreams of becoming a doctor 👨‍⚕️ to one day relieve children from the pain he witnesses daily. But like all of us, he’s been caught in the clutches of war. He can’t even attend school 🏫 regularly and doesn’t feel safe in our small home 🏠.📚🏫💭

As for Jouri, my seven-year-old daughter 👧🏼, she doesn’t understand what war means, but she knows her days aren’t like other children’s. She feels pain when she looks at her small hands 🤲, irritated and itchy, and when she asks me why she’s hurting, I have no answer.💔🩹😢

Mohammed, my four-year-old son 👦🏽, has become mostly silent 🤐, speaking only a little, as if war has stolen both his voice 🎙️ and his childhood 🎈.🌧️😞💔

And finally, there’s Adam, my ten-month-old baby 👶, too young to understand anything, yet crying constantly 😢. His life is already filled with hunger 🍽️, pain 💢, and sickness 🤧.🍼💔😢

I stand at night 🌙 beside my children as they struggle to sleep 🛌, lifting my hands to the sky ☝️ in prayer 🙏, asking for God’s help. I have nothing for them but hope 💫 and prayers, and I am left only to wait⏳—waiting for a day when peace 🕊️ and mercy 💖 will come. A day when I can see my children laugh freely 😂, without fear 😨 or pain.🕊️🙏💔

[crookedfandomquill]

This is very situational, and sadly may not be realistic for everyone, but I need y’all to understand that a very important part of political activism is fucking talking to your conservative or moderate friends and family.

My dad voted for Trump in 2016. He’s a middle class white evangelical from Arkansas. He raised me with conservative Christian values, just like his parents raised him. When he voted Trump, he was holding his nose, but he didn’t feel too bad about it, and went on to vote red down the ticket in the 2018 midterms, as well.

But I started college in 2017. Higher education and independence changed everything for me, and I went home over holidays and summers with fire in my belly and a thousand arguments ready at the drop of a hat, to my father’s dismay.

I remember crying in my room after emotional, intense arguments with him. I told him over and over that I felt betrayed by his choice to vote for a man who admitted to sexually assaulting women, who built his platform on dehumanizing immigrants and the disabled, who spread overtly-racist rhetoric, who flouted the values of kindness and self-discipline that I’d been raised on. And my dad always had some justification about the “greater good”: fighting against abortion, bolstering the economy, getting other Christian politicians into office.

But over time, as we grew further apart and I lost my will to discuss anything with him at all, he softened. He started asking me why I thought the way I did about the things we disagreed about. He would listen to my answers without interruption, and mull them over afterward instead of expressing his own opinion. And all the while, he watched the Trump presidency become cruel and absurd and devastating.

The first time he openly expressed regret to me, I had come home for a weekend after Kavanaugh was confirmed to SCOTUS. My dad realized he had helped elect a man who preyed on women… and that man had opened the door to more predators. I can’t tell you what it felt like for him to admit that he’d made a mistake, not just in voting for Trump but in defending him for so long. We kept arguing, but it was more debating than fighting. I knew he was capable of seeing my side of things, even if it took a while, and he knew I wasn’t just a sensitive college student with shallow new ideas about the world.

And then 2020 hit. Specifically, George Floyd was murdered, and the events that followed played out on the national stage. My dad was incredibly shaken by it. He asked me if I had any books from college about racial issues. I loaned him The New Jim Crow, one of the required readings for my Race and the Law class. Then I gave him Just Mercy. Then he watched the documentary 13th. Then he joined a racial harmony group he learned about through one of the few Black families at our church and insisted our whole family come. He held up signs at a protest against Confederate monuments in our conservative southern town. In three years, he went from defending Trump’s comments about “Black-on-Black crime” to publicly advocating for racial justice and opposing the death penalty.

We went together to vote in the 2020 primaries. I couldn’t help asking who he’d voted for; I didn’t even know if he’d asked for the Republican or Democratic ticket. He admitted he’d voted for Bernie. fucking. Sanders, then made me promise not to tell my grandma he’d voted liberal. When the election rolled around in November, he voted Biden. I’m sure he held his nose to do it, just like he held his nose voting in 2016. But I know he doesn’t regret it.

I am, of course, unbelievably lucky to have a parent who loved me enough, and was empathetic enough, to choose his relationship with me over his strongly-held opinions. He kept searching for truth because, as much as he’ll deny it, he’s a very smart and curious person. No degree of intelligence or curiosity makes you immune to propaganda, especially if you were raised not to question the party line. It’s easy to dismiss our conservative, conspiracy-pilled loved ones as stupid, hypocritical, and cruel. Sometimes they are. But sometimes they aren’t. Sometimes they will bend to keep their relationships from breaking. Sometimes, if they can be made to understand that their beliefs and actions are harming someone they love, they will make concessions. And sometimes they just need one person in their life to put a foot down, to be vulnerable and assertive and argumentative, to bring the impact of their politics close to home.

As the most important election of our lifetimes approaches, do not put peace over progress. If you have someone like my dad, someone who is good-willed and smart and loves you more than their own opinions, tell them how you feel. Tell them what their choices will mean for you, for your friends, for your community. Tell them what they could lose: your trust, your affection, your respect. Don’t avoid conflict if it could be productive. Because my conflict with my dad didn’t just win him over–it won over my moderate mom and one of my conservative brothers. And it put us in community with other like-minded people and led my parents to a healthier and kinder faith.

All of this to say, there is hope in conflict. There is hope in our relationships with people who think differently from us. There is hope in exposing your fear and anger and pain to people you love. And hope is a form of activism.

[godzexperiment]

the not so fun fact that angels are meant to keep themselves in line, some specifically more so than others (aka more inclined to have to kill the out of liners) and also the whole "killing" of lucifer

about how nix knows those places of banishment used, not used and the sensations thereof. of how nix knows how to hold his own, harm his siblings rather well (especially if he's in weapon mode? all his vast love isn't there)

however nix generally would rather not separate them from their body/or kill them and doing so is typically an last resort type of situation even in weapon mode

[smallvictorianchildwhofoundwifi]

Guess who’s thinking about this again!

Also I reached the tag limit so just know there’s very gore ish stuff in there

Huh? Oh yeah yeah I'm fine I'm just thinking about the Sad Man's Parade appearing behind the Erasure group and throwing them into the concrete, constantly making more doubles and growing in mass, meaning that as they were falling on top of Eraserhead and Monoma, the ever-growing weight of doubles on top of them made them hit the ground even harder and definitely should've been enough to kill them but it didn't because the writers decide if they live or die and that's their only saving grace

[azrahelgone]

𝐢𝐢. ⠀𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ⠀ 、 who will have mercy on your soul ⠀!

𝐢𝐢. ⠀𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ⠀ 、 angel with a shotgun ⠀!

𝐢𝐢. ⠀𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ⠀ 、 you can't raise hell with a saint ⠀!

𝐢𝐢. ⠀𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ⠀ 、 huntercorp ; tempt me & tease me until i can't deny this ⠀!

𝐢𝐢. ⠀𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 ⠀ 、 it's the end baby ⠀!

𝐢𝐢. ⠀𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐒𝐈𝐗 ⠀ 、 worlds collide ⠀!

𝐢𝐢. ⠀𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 ⠀ 、 i'm your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb⠀!

𝐢𝐢. ⠀𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ⠀ 、 i'll see you all in hell or new orleans ⠀!

[yujivrs]

* TALK DIRTY TO ME

drabbles. their dirty talking styles.

contains. konig, ghost, and price / praise, slight breeding kink, degradation, dumbification.

—

konig is surprisingly vocal when he’s rutting into you, though it’s probably not in the way you think. most of his words come out in hushed whispers laced with obscenities. he seems to lose any sense of shame he usually has because he’s just too drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him.

“feels s’fucking good—“ he mindlessly babbles out.

his large palms are stretched out on both sides of you, fingers digging into the mattress, while he keeps you caged underneath him.

“such a greedy pussy,” he groans out with another roll of his hips. “keeps suckin’ me back in…”

you can feel his hot breath fanning your face while his darkened eyes are stuck — transfixed — on the creamy white ring that covers his cock. the sloppy sounds that fill the room seem to only grow louder with each thrust, as your arousal practically drips down his balls.

“just begging for me to fill ya up,” he hissed out, as he presses down on your stomach which makes you whimper in response. the noise somehow flips a switch in him and has könig fucking into you even harder.

“s’that what ya want? need me to fill ya up, fuck a baby into this pretty cunt?”

price just exudes dominance in all aspects even with his dirty talk, his words are more praising than anything else though. he’s always coaching you through things and telling you how good of a job you’re doing, he knows it gets you off and he also just can’t help but spoil you.

“mhmm, just like that, baby.” he mumbles out as he lazily guides your movements, helping you bounce yourself up and down on his cock.

there’s a smirk on his face that he can’t even be bothered to hide when he hears you whining at the praise. he thinks you’re adorable when you’re like this, so desperate for him yet so adamant on not asking for his help. you could be such a brat sometimes, he’d have to deal with that later.

“doing so well,” he says with a groan as he thrusts his hips up in time with your movements. “but you don’t think you’re gonna make me cum just from this, do you?”

it doesn’t take much effort for him to flip you over and have you at his mercy. your legs are now lifted over his shoulders while his dick is fucking you even deeper, the tip prodding against your sweet spot just right it has your toes curling.

“feels good, doesn’t it?” his movements are slow and controlled, he knows you’re close — he can feel it — but he’s not going to reward you unless you use yours words.

“come on, princess. all you have to do is beg and i’ll have you screaming for me…”

everything ghost says is absolutely filthy, he is all about the little details. he doesn’t actually notice what he’s saying in the heat of the moment, all he knows is that his words have your cheeks flushing to a pretty shade of red, and he loves it.

“you’re such a fuckin’ slut for me even your pussy knows it.” he practically growls. “look at this sloppy mess you’re making.”

he ruts the tip of his cock against your slit, coating your folds with his pre-cum. “jus’ gonna slip in with how wet you are..”

your arm is slung over your face as a way for you to hide your embarrassment, you know he’s right, there’s no way you could deny it. something about the way he talks to you when he’s pent up like this has your pussy throbbing.

“fuck, need to be balls deep inside this cunt.” he breathes, as he eases his way into you, the fat head of his cock slowly splitting you open as he makes you take in more and more of him.

the veins on his length rub your slick walls deliciously and it’s not surprising that you’re already twitching and creaming all over him as soon as he bottoms out.

“that’s it, there’s my slutty girl.” his raspy laugh fills the silence. “stop using that pretty head, all you need to do is cum for me.”

[thinkinonsense]

JUNO⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

logan howlett x young fem!reader.

cw: slightly nsfw, reader is 25.

a/n: this is very rushed but short n sweet is on repeat and juno has been on my mind nonstop. can't wait to see her on tour next month! <3

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

Logan wasn't stupid, he saw the stars in your eyes when you looked at him. You were yearning for him in every way possible, but Logan knew better than to corrupt a sweet girl like you. Yet, he didn't want any of those little boys on campus to have you either. They could never treat you right.

It was torture of Logan; but he had to keeping a gap between you. Never giving you the chance to pounce on him.

That was until spring break came.

Everyone in the mansion had returned home for the two-week break. Only a handful of people stayed, including Logan and yourself. He watched out his window at you in your tiny skirts out in the garden. Logan could deny the aching desire deep within himself but you knew that he was craving your touch.

You weren't one to shy away from your feelings; instead, you made them known.

"Gotta sec, Logan?" You asked, cornering him in the kitchen one morning.

When he turned around Logan feared a groan might slip past his lips. The last thing he expected was to see you in a cute baby blue slip nightgown. He was convinced you were sent as karma for all his past damages.

"No." He grunted, moving past you quickly and into the hallway.

"C'mon, Lo.." You whimper behind him, following him like a lost puppy. "I know you're avoiding me."

"Aren't you observant?" His voice leaked with sarcasm.

Logan reached his room, about to slam the door in your face and deal with some personal issues. Your hand slams against the large wooden door, keeping it open enough to slip past.

"You aren't welcome in here, sweetheart."

Logan pulled a cigar from his pocket and sat in one of the chairs in his room. That didn't stop you from standing in front of him, demanding answers. A shiver rushed through you when the smoke tickled your tummy.

"Why are you being so cruel to me?" You ask as sweetly as you can sound.

Logan took one look up at you and he immediately regretted it when he saw your little pouty face and wide eyes. He refused to answer you, instead staring at the floor and waiting for you to leave.

"I want you." You whined. He felt like you just stabbed him in the chest. "I know you want me too, Lo."

"Don't do this to me, sweets-" His words fall short when you sit on his lap.

"I'll be good for you."

Now you were being the cruel one; moving against him with lustful eyes.

"Just want you to adore me..." You purr against him, taking hold of his two giant palms against his sides. "Want you to hold me, to explore me..."

Logan was at your mercy. Your soft moans are making it hard for him to resist you anymore. His hands finally moving under the night gown to squeeze your flesh. You leave a trail of kisses up his neck; pausing by his ear.

"Mark your territory."

Logan groaned loudly, pushing your hips to his with force.

"Let me be your only, Logan."

Logan smashed his lips into yours, swallowing your pretty moans. He didn't care if it made him any worse of a person. He just needed you; and boy, were you gonna get more than just some butterflies from Logan.

[nariism]

neuvillette is aware that he shouldn’t have let you get so close. but he did, and now he’s lamenting the fact that your hands are grasping at his soft horns — his fucking horns, of all places — and he might like it.

uptight and strait-laced, you’ve never known the chief justice to be someone so easily flustered. yet here he is with heat crawling up his neck, so warm that you can feel it against your palms as they ghost over his skin.

you can’t help but laugh at his current situation.

he was vehemently against you coming anywhere near his hair at first, grumbling about how his horns were on the sensitive side and he would rather not have to go into work feeling uncomfortably aware of their presence on his head.

however, you were hard to deny with that little smile on your face and such soft hands grabbing at his arms, tugging him closer. a sweet voice chanting, "please, honey? pretty please?"

neuvillette has never been good at denying you what you want.

it’s how he ends up sitting at your shared vanity. you comb through his long hair, watching him with amusement in the mirror as he huffs and jolts with every brush of your fingers against his horns.

the fact that he was letting you get anywhere near them was surely a testament to his trust in you. he was completely vulnerable here, at your mercy.

“sorry,” you mumble disingenuously, clearly enjoying seeing your usually serious husband falling apart with a simple action. you quickly tie off the end of his hair with a bow and he sighs in relief, thinking that the torment is over.

it's far from over.

he draws a sharp breath when you lean forward and press two gentle kisses on him; one on either side of his head just beside his horns.

neuvillette glowers at you in the reflection, disapproval written all over his face. "stop that," he scolds.

you do, but only because you're worried he might melt into a puddle before your very eyes if you continue.

it becomes a daily routine after that, with him sitting patiently in front of the mirror while you brush and tie off his hair. and you always end it the same way: two kisses, a soft "have a good day at work," murmured against him, and a mischievous little smile that makes him sigh.

he responds everyday with the same two words. "stop that," with a narrow-eyed glare.

the day you do stop, he's confused and irritated.

not only because you have the audacity to throw a wrench into routine again, which you know he hates, but also because he can't figure out why he misses your lips so much.

"what are you doing? i am going to be late."

"hm?" you peer up lazily from your spot on the bed, still half asleep.

"you have to do my hair."

"i thought you didn't want me to, so i slept in today."

your husband is eerily silent for a moment as he mulls over your words. then, he carefully perches himself on the edge of the bed, back turned to you expectantly and still wordless.

no, he would never admit he likes it just a little bit — the vulnerability, the trust, the feeling of your hands threading through his hair, the intimacy of it. hell no.

but neuvillette doesn't have to say a lot of things for you to understand; not when the way his skin heats up says it all; not when you're the first person to touch his horns in centuries; not when he’s saying stop that with such an affectionate glimmer in his eyes.

you give him four kisses that morning, two on either side.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.