#i just want to see them together in general

[lucidfairies]

— mess around [sevika] ➡️ part two!

synopsis: it wasn't everyday you moved to the south, surrounded by cowboys and their women, but here you were, and your new neighbor simply couldn't get any more enticing

pairing: rancher!sevika x married housewife!reader

warnings: cheating, dom!sev, sub!reader, inexperienced reader (with women), size kink, light domestic kink, cum kink, tribbing, cunniligus, fingering, PRAISE, pet names, finger sucking, aggressive husband, he threatens to shoot Sevika, drinking/r gets drunk, m/f sex mentioned very briefly, r has long enough hair to braid

a/n: hi! I don't condone cheating. this is only part one, there'll be several parts ;)

wc: 6.5k

The air was thick in the outskirts of the city on Saturday morning. You rose with the sun, ready for a long day of moving, especially without your husband. This was a rushed decision, moving into this house together. You believed that the house was too large, no single couples needed three bedrooms, but your husband insisted that it would be perfect when you two chose to begin a family in future. And, well, you listened to him. He was good at talking you into things you didn’t want to do.

The house bared down on you when you arrived hours later. The porch was long, stretching around the corners of the house, large double-doors beckoning to be opened. The jagged edge of the key in your hand dug into your palm the longer you looked at the home, and you decided to suck it up and go in.

Walking in, you were greeted by a large kitchen with expansive glass windows that looked over the fields that came with the house. It was truly a gorgeous house, you were simply unsure if it was the place for you. But it was too late, the house was already yours, and the keys jingled as you sat them on the counter top.

The moving trucks would arrive soon, but you allowed yourself a moment to breathe as you walked throughout the house, peaking in each room. The largest bedroom had windows that mimicked those in the kitchen, and against your best hopes, your husband had been right. The other bedrooms would make good nurseries. For now, one would be an office and the other would be a guest bedroom. But you could envision your future.

There was a loud whistle from outside, indicating that at least one of the trucks had arrived. You released a sigh and traveled back downstairs, opening the doors with a whoosh of warm air. A mover hopped out of the large truck and came over to greet you, shaking your hand and explaining what was going to happen.

As the movers began bringing things into the house, you observed the outside. Across the street was the only close house, which sat on miles of land just as your new home did. The other house was different, though. It had miles of fencing, caging in horses and sheep, and if you squinted, you swore you could see cows in a small barn far down on the edges of the land.

Because the movers didn’t need you yet, you decided to venture across the street and meet the new neighbors. You didn’t look your best, as you were dressed to move, and you didn’t have anything to give them when you greeted them, but it didn’t matter. You could always invite the family over for dinner in the future.

There was a pair of brown, ratty cowboy boots resting against one of the steps, which made sense for the area. You were against moving south, you didn’t enjoy the heat and you had never ridden a horse before, but your husband insisted. The boots were lined with what looked like generations worth of mud, caked into every crevice and line.

You knocked on the door, waiting a moment before it opened. What you weren’t expecting was to be met with the sternum of a woman in front of you. It took you a moment to look up, and up, and up, before you met her eyes. She had a sullen expression on her face, as if you had just ruined her entire day. You tried not to think much of it, and you barely could with the attractive nature of the woman.

It was just her height that made her large - no, the woman had muscle packed onto her more than anyone you believed to have seen in your life. She was in a white shirt and jeans that hugged her muscular thighs so tightly you worried the seam would rip. Her eyes were grey, and they contrasted against her darker skin. Her hair was short, pulled away from her face and her lips were downturned as she looked at you.

“Hi,” you chirped nervously. “I just moved in across the street, I figured I would come introduce myself,” you gave her your name, a dark blush of embarrassment gracing your cheeks. “You have a lovely home.” The woman’s lips quirked into a side smirk, and your face grew hotter.

“Sevika,” her hand reached out between you, and there was a beat between you before you realized that she was offering her hand to shake. You cleared your throat, enveloping her palm in your own. Her hand practically swallowed yours. “Seems like a pretty big house for one little lady, sugar.” She joked, glancing over at the house as she leaned her weight against the door frame.

“Oh, no, it’s my husband and I. He’s away with business until late tonight, so I’m moving what I can.” A disapproving look smeared against her face.

“He left you alone?” You nodded slowly, unsure of what she was getting to. She looked over her shoulder, as if to check if anything or anyone was in her house. “If you’d like some help, I ain't got any plans ‘til the evening.” Your heart lept in your chest. Everything about your body’s reaction felt wrong. You could’ve begged this woman for help.

“That would be lovely, actually.” You smiled, trying not to seem as nervous as you felt. Your heart was thumping loudly, you swore you were about to faint. Maybe it was from the heat, women never made you feel this way in the past.

“Let me get myself cleaned up and I'll meet you over there, darlin’.” Her accent was thick. You were going to die. You nodded, smiling, and turned back in the direction of your house. At least you wouldn't have to move alone.

-

Before you knew it, the clock was striking five, and the majority of your furniture had been moved where it needed to go. Sevika did all of it - most of the time you just stood there looking pretty and instructing her where to go. Sevika thoroughly enjoyed it. She noticed the gentle bite of your lip when she lifted something heavy, your eyes tracing down the lines of her arms. You hadn't initially noticed the prosthetic in place of where her left arm should be, but it only made her that much more interesting.

For lunch you made sandwiches and lemonade, forcing her to sit and take a break instead of continuing to work for you. “Y’r just sweet as cane, ain'tcha?” she had said, taking the plate of food. You chose to ignore the rush in your panties.

You both stood in the kitchen and Sevika was breathing heavily, catching her breath after moving a series of dining chairs into your new dining room for you. You came to her, gently tracing your fingertips over her bicep as you pushed up on your toes and kissed her cheek. “Thank you so much, Sevika. I greatly appreciate it,” you said with a soft smile, “and you’re so strong.” You squeezed her arm, taking in a sharp breath at how hard the muscle actually was.

“You’re very welcome, darlin’.” When she smiled, you noticed a gap in her teeth that you hadn’t seen before. It fit her face perfectly.

“Will you let me make you dinner for your trouble?” You turned around, reaching for the single cookbook that you had bothered unpacking, resting on the counter.

“You’ve worked far too hard to be bothered with cookin’ tonight, pretty girl. Why don’t you join me? I’m going to dinner with some friends. You’ll enjoy ‘em.” You pondered for a moment, but the answer was clear. You hadn’t actually wanted to cook, but you would’ve done anything she asked.

“That would be nice. How’s six sound? I should probably clean up.” You gestured down your body at your sweaty clothes. You could already picture what you were going to wear - there was a sundress in a box in your bedroom, maybe you could track down the pair of cowboy boots you wore to a concert once.

“Sounds good, sugarplum. Wear somethin’ pretty for me, yeah?” Heat rose from your chest and crept up your neck, finding home on your cheeks. Sevika didn’t fail to notice, she adored it. No matter what she said to you, you were blushing and stuttering.

You found yourself on Sevika’s front porch at six round, inevitably in the outfit you were thinking of earlier. Your hair was in a loose braid, with a bow at the end, and you believed that you looked cute, but it could be better. Nothing compared to the way Sevika looked at you when you knocked, though.

She was in the same thing she was already wearing, except with a jacket thrown over her white tee, a cowboy hat, and some matching boots. God, you could eat her up. “Did as told, I see.” She nodded towards you, hat dipping with her head. “We’re going to the best bar in town, you ain't got nothin’ to worry about.” She walked out of the house, locking the door behind her and leading you to her car.

“So, Sevika,” you began, once you were settled into your passenger seat. “Do you live alone?” you had wondered, since she gave up her day to assist you and offered to bring you to dinner.

“Yes ma'am,” she responded, small grin painting her face. “Got some livestock ‘nd a dog. ‘s all I need.” You nodded.

“Have you ever been married?” She didn't seem like the type to enjoy marriage, and she wore no ring. Maybe you just couldn't imagine her in a traditional marriage - what kind of man would a woman like her even be interested in?

She chuckled. “Nah, holdin’ out for the right one.” you smiled. Sometimes you wondered if you held out for the right one. You loved your husband, but your love often felt fabricated. Like you had to love him, like a requirement.

She pulled up to the bar, it was a ragly old place, with a crooked sign and some wood falling off, but it was pretty. It read, plainly, The Last Drop, and you wondered where the name came from, or how she came to find this place in the middle of nowhere.

She ushered you in with a large, warm hand on the small of your back, gently directing you towards a table full of people. They already had drinks, and you feared that somehow you made the woman late.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Sevy.” A woman quipped. She wasn't like anything you'd seen before - tall, long blue hair, and tattoos. She was gorgeous, quite a sight. “Who's your lady friend?” The woman looked over at you and winked with a smirk.

“Watch it, Jinx,” she retorted, taking a seat next to a woman with pink hair, and you took the one next to her. She introduced you to the group, and a small blush crept up your cheeks. In order, she introduced everyone around the table. “Jinx and I worked for the same guy a couple years back. He passed, but she still hangs around,” Jinx shot her a look and took a sip of her drink. “Ekko, her husband. Caitlyn and Vi, they're married.” You greeted each of them.

Being with Sevika was something you had never imagined possible. She ordered and paid for your meal and your drinks, and let you get as many as you wanted. You didn't exactly feel like you fit in with her crowd of people, they were a little rowdy and loud, but the company was enjoyable.

It was late when the first couple left - Jinx and Ekko, to go relieve their babysitter. Caitlyn and Vi left soon after, no particular reason. It left you a Sevika, and when she began talking to you, the amount of alcohol in your system finally hit you.

“Sevika,” you slurred, grabbing her arm as you looked up at her, “can I have your hat?”

Her cheeks warmed, dark blush finding home on them. “What’d’ya need my hat for, babygirl?” She chuckled, trying to play off her nervousness. Clearly, you didn't know how hats worked in bars.

“‘s pretty on you,” she was still laughing as she took it off and placed it on your head. And god, you looked good. Thoughts of filth coursed through her mind and she attempted to shut them down, with no luck. You were her married neighbor. She couldn't possibly be thinking of you in the way she was.

“Let's get you home, cowgirl.” She gently grabbed your upper arm, helping you off your stool. When you stumbled, she turned you around, your back facing her front as she grabbed your forearms and helped you walk.

You slumped against her in the car, head resting on her shoulder as sleep drew you in. You didn't get drunk often, but when you did, it always made you tired. Especially after a full day of work.

Your husband's car was in the driveway when you both returned to your neighborhood. Sevika pulled into your new, fancy driveway and quickly came to your side to assist your walk into your house. After a few steps, your husband threw open the front door, anger pouring off of him.

“What the fuck is this?” He yelled at Sevika, who simply looked at him. “What the fuck did you do to my wife?” He ripped you from her arms, making you hunch and your stomach twist. Sevika backed up, hands in the air like she was facing a cop.

“We went out for dinner and she had a couple drinks. I was just bringin’r home.” She insisted. Your husband didn't care - he was livid. In his mind, some woman that he had never seen before got his wife drunk and did god knows what to you.

“Get the fuck off my property and don't fucking come back or I'll shoot you dead.” He spat, dragging you inside. You looked over your shoulder, watching Sevika walk down the driveway, shaking her head. She got in her car and drove home, and that was the last you saw of her.

To your misfortune, you remembered none of what happened the previous night when you awoke. You remembered portions of dinner, some blurry faces, Sevika’s murmured ‘babygirl’, but nothing of the way your husband treated her. And he made no effort to enlighten you as to what happened -

So, for weeks afterward when Sevika avoided you, you had no idea why. You didn’t even know if she was avoiding you on purpose, maybe she was just a busy woman. Maybe the day she spent with you was a one time thing. But, your curiosity brewed every time you saw her at home.

You knew you had too much to drink that night, but you had never taken yourself for a sloppy drunk, or a mean one. That doesn’t mean you couldn’t have said or done something vulgar, but it was out of your character. Maybe she simply didn’t enjoy your company as much as you did hers. There were millions of options, millions of reasons as to why no words had been uttered since that day.

You were growing accustomed to your new life. Your husband went to work every day, occasionally went on a business trip, and you tended to the house. It wasn’t ever what you had thought your life would look like, or wanted your life to look like. But it wasn’t bad. It was relaxing, and allowed you freedoms that you didn’t previously have when you both worked and lived in a small city apartment.

And there was the other part. You were learning to tend to the house so that you were ready for when you were to bear children - something that your husband had insisted was coming soon, and therefore had suggested you begin trying. The night he suggested that was the night the pit in your stomach became unbearable. Trying for a baby? With him? You weren’t sure you were ready for that, or frankly wanted that.

It was a sunny, warm morning when you left to get the mail. Dew had settled in the grass, and the southern air was thick. You were in a nightgown, one of your favorites, that was outlined in lace, a nice pale yellow color. You had panties that matched, clung to your skin underneath the short gown.

Before you could turn to go back up the driveway and into the house, you noticed Sevika’s door opening, and there stood the one and only. She was in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a wifepleaser, slippers finishing the outfit nicely.

“Sevika!” You yelled from across the street, a wide smile as you raised a hand to wave. Her head snapped up from her mail, but before she could hide, you were making your way across the street. She wasn’t getting out of this one. “Sevika, hi! I haven’t seen you around, you must be one busy woman.” You joked. She smiled, demeanor softening.

“You could say that,” She responded awkwardly, knowing damn well she was not a busy woman, especially not if you needed something. “Was there anything else? Don’t need your husband gettin’ all pissy again, ma’am.” Your brows knit, confusion drawing itself on your pretty features.

Fuck. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have possibly known. You were so drunk that night that there was no way you remembered what happened, and now Sevika just dropped the bomb. “Whatever do you mean, Sevika?” God, you drew her in, sweet as honey.

“I best get goin’. Gotta feed the chickens.” She had already fed her chickens today, twice because she was so tired.

“No, Sevika. What do you mean? Did he do something to you?” Sevika sighed, throwing a quick glance towards your house to assure that your husband wasn’t home. His car was missing from the driveway, and that was all she needed to know.

“The night you came out with me you drank a lot, could hardly walk by y’rself. Brought ya home and he got angry, threatened to shoot me if I came near you again. ‘m not tryna get shot anytime soon, sweet thing.” Your lips parted, small gasp falling from them. Sevika prayed she never forgot the noise.

“Sev…” you paused, trying to formulate what you wanted to say to her. “I’m so sorry he did that. His temper can get the best of him sometimes, I promise he’s a good man. We don’t own any guns. How can I apologize?” Sevika envisioned a few ways. “How about dinner? Tomorrow? He’ll be out of town for a couple days, he’s taking the train up north. I’ll cook for you?”

Sevika was blushing. Sevika never blushed. “Miss, you ain’t gotta do all that for me.”

“No, you deserve it. You must come. Tomorrow, six, please?” Your eyes softened as you looked up at her, and she would’ve moved mountains to give you what you wanted in that moment. But luckily, it was a lot easier than that.

“If you insist,” she said with a small smile, “I’ll be there, sugar.” You grinned, clapping your hands twice. “I like steak, if you’re willing.” She swore she saw your smile widen.

“Perfect, I have just the recipe. I can’t wait, I’ll see you tomorrow, Sevika!” You said eagerly, as you began walking back to your house, tossing her a wave over your shoulder.

The longer you thought about it, the more the situation angered you. Sevika was doing you a favor, a noble one at that, just to be treated like shit by the person that was supposed to protect you. Everything she said made the idea of having a child with this man less and less appealing. You hardly acknowledged him when he returned home that night, and hardly bid him farewell when he left in the morning. It was tough to look at him.

It was late afternoon when you got the food in the oven and began getting ready. You didn’t know whether this was formal or not, so you chose something in the middle. You chose a simple half up, half down style, bringing the top of your hair into a pretty bun and leaving the rest down to curl. You did your makeup, then went through your closet, trying to find something that matched the appeal you were trying to convey.

Part of you wanted to put on something that your husband would hate; a pair of jeans and a top, or even something casual. But the other half, and the half that won, begged you to dress yourself in something attractive. Something that would draw her in, making her look at you, in the ways your husband never did.

The thought was terrible, obscene even. You had never even begun to think of someone in the way you were thinking of Sevika now, especially while married. It was awful. And then you remembered what he did to her, what he did to you. How he made you move hundreds of miles from your family and quit your job to play house.

You chose a dress that was shorter than anything you believed to have ever dressed yourself in. It hardly covered your ass, and it was slutty. So very slutty, so unlike you. And you liked it. You liked the way it hugged your figure, made your boobs look fuller and your hips wider.

The dress was strapless and white, coming in at the waist and flaring slightly until it ended. You added a white bow to your bun for good measure, and a pair of white kitten heels that opened at the toe. Confidence was a drug, and you were addicted.

The oven rang moments before Sevika knocked, right on time. You took out the food and set it on the counter, tossing your oven mitts to the side to get the door. When you opened it, Sevika drank you in like a tall glass of wine. Her eyes moved along you slowly, as if she was trying to memorize every dip and curve of your body. She followed the line of your dress, eyes falling on the over-exposure of your thighs, and they paused there for a moment.

And her mind was running wild.

“Hi Sevika,” you greeted, cheeks warmer than they had ever been. This was terrible, disgusting. And it was going the exact way you wanted it to. “You look nice.” She did. She was in black slacks and a white t-shirt with an unbuttoned, short sleeved button-down thrown overtop. It was cropped just the right amount, ending where her slacks began. It had a gorgeous pattern of red and black and white, and it was as if your minds had thought the same, and here you were matching.

“If I’m nice, you must be world-stopping.” She said, taking your hand and placing a gentle kiss to your knuckle. “The food smells great.” Her eyes were addicting. You simply couldn’t draw yourself away, even after it had been several beats since she spoke.

“Do come in,” you opened the door wider and she stepped in, engulfing the doorframe. “I just need to plate the food and we can eat. Feel free to sit.” She did as told, taking a seat at the small table while you plated the food. You placed her plate in front of her, but she was too busy watching the way you worked and moved around the kitchen to bother looking at the food.

“You didn’t have to do all this, sugar. Seems like a lot of work.” You chuckled.

“It’s truly not. If anything, it’s routine. My husband has me staying home now, tending to the house. I cook a lot. You’re the first person I’ve had over in quite some time.” You took your place, smoothing out your dress. Sevika looked surprised at your remark.

“If I had a woman as pretty as you I would take her everywhere. Show’r off to the world.” Your mouth was agape again. Your husband never said things like that to you. It made your skin warm and your stomach flutter.

Realizing that you had been staring at her for a moment, you averted your gaze, dropping it to your plate in embarrassment. “You’re very nice, Sevika. You know how to talk a woman up.” She grinned, leaning back in her chair and spreading her legs into a, somehow, sexy manspread. You never found the way of seating particularly attractive, but when she did it, you had several thoughts about it. Positive ones. Dirty ones.

“It’s working, then?” Your eyes widened, but before you could say anything, she was speaking again. “You should eat, sugar. Food’s gon’ get cold.” She was smirking, and when you looked down at her plate, she was all but finished. You wondered how long you had been entranced by her, if it meant that more than half her food was already gone and you had hardly started.

You ate quickly, almost choking at the rate at which you stuffed your face. She was finished before you, and wasted no time taking her dishes to the sink and beginning to clean them. When you were finished, you shot up, hurrying over to her and gently pushing her to the side. “You’re a guest, you don’t have to clean your own dishes, that’s rude.” You joked, taking her plate from her hands.

“I’m a capable woman, babygirl. I can clean my own plate, I do it every day.” You shooed her hands away as she reached for her plate, until she was grabbing your wrist and pinning you to the counter, human hand holding your wrist while her mechanical arm trapped you against her.

When you looked up at her, your clit started beating. She was looking down at you, low eyes painted with displeasure. “Let me help you, angel. It won’t kill ya.”

The feelings swirling within you were nothing you had ever felt before. Your body was on fire, you were surprised that your wrist wasn’t burning Sevika’s large palm. Her body heat was radiating into you, and you could feel the meat of her thighs against yours, and the curve of her hips as they kissed your own. Your panties were wet, your thighs were sticky, but you were sure it was sweat.

“Sevika…” You whispered, but any additional thoughts were cut off by the harsh press of her lips to yours, the force pushing you against the sink even harder. Your eyes widened for a second, but quickly fluttered closed as your body accepted what was happening and leaned into it. You  pushed off the sink, pressing your front against hers. She let go of your wrist and your hands found purchase on her neck, pulling at her short hair.

She moaned softly into your mouth, grabbing your hip with her human hand and pushing your hips against the sink so your back arched a little further, tits pushed against hers. Her lips attacked yours, tongue dipping into your mouth and sucking, pulling noises out of you that you had never heard before.

You pulled away, admiring her flushed face and swollen lips. She was breathing heavily, and the look on her face dropped into terror as she realized what she had done. “I’m so sorry, ma’am.” She backed up, releasing you from your spot against the sink. “Gods,” she rubbed her hands over her face, “I just kissed a married woman in her husband’s home. I should leave.”

“Don’t.” You came to where she was standing, softly grabbing her wrists and pulling her hands away from her face. She was scared, looking at you. Scared of what could happen. Scared of how it would be if it didn’t happen.

Slowly, cautiously, you pressed up on your toes and pulled her in for another kiss. And she was lost. Gone, forever. There was no returning from this.

She grabbed your ass, lifting you easily onto the counter as she continued kissing you. Her body was hard and hot and calling you, and the way she dragged her hands up and down your waist, carefully flicking her thumb over your nipple made your panties drenched. “Do that again,” you whined, arching your tits towards her.

“Do what, sugar?” She played coy, letting her hands rest on your waist. “This?” She ran her human hand up your side and flicked her thumb over your nipple again, craving the moan that fell from your lips. “Tell me, sugar, was it this?” She pulled the top of your dress down slowly, giving you time to interject. But you didn’t, and she made quick work of removing your bra.

She left wet, hot kisses down your chest, lips latching around your nipple. She sucked hard, making you cry out and grind your hips in the air. She could’ve made a snarky comment about that, she desperately wanted to, but the way your body reacted to her mouth on your perky nipple was too compelling.

Once she had given both of your tits equal attention, she stood back up and met your eyes. “Y’r gonna have to tell me where this is goin’, baby. ‘m not goin’ any further until you tell me with words.” Your head fell against her chest, panting.

“Please, please fuck me, Sev.” With a soft ‘fuck’, she lifted you off the counter, your legs locking around her hips. She carried you down the hall with your instruction, kicking the door closed and locking it before placing you on the bed, gingerly.

“Let’s get you out of this dress, mama.” She pulled it down, waiting for you to lift your hips so she could finish the job. Before she could admire you, you were grabbing her by her t-shirt and pulling her on top of you, kissing her once again. Nothing in the world was better than this.

“Sevika,” you moaned as her mouth was reunited with your boobs. “Take off your shirt.” She did as instructed, losing her button down and t-shirt in a few short motions. It left her in her slacks and a sports bra, a great look for her. She stood at the end of the bed, and she grabbed your ankle to pull you down with her. Your ass was on the edge of the bed, and your legs were propped up, spread wide.

“Fuck,” she looked over your body, then threw her head back and shut her eyes. This was wrong. It was awful. You’re married. But the way your panties sat high on your hips and had a noticeable wet spot in the middle was enough to waiver her thoughts.

“Sevika,” you said, weakly. “What do we.. do? I’ve never done this with a woman.” She chuckled a little, sinking to her knees at the edge of the bed, so that her face was level with your cunt. You could feel her warm breath against you, and it made you shiver.

“I’m gonna eat your pussy, angel. What happens next is up to you. But I need my face in y’r pussy.” She looked up at you as she painted your thighs with kisses, occasionally stopping to suck on the skin. She was careful, she didn’t leave any marks, but she adored having your skin in her mouth. She adored having you in her mouth.

You weren’t prepared for her first lick against your cunt. She licked a fat strip from bottom to top over your panties, and you reeled, arching into it and bringing your legs together. She placed both of her hands on the insides of your thighs, forcing them apart. “You’re gonna keep these open for me, ain’tcha, sugar?” Weakly, you nodded, relaxing and allowing your legs to fall apart.

She continued eating you over your panties, sucking at your clit until you weren’t sure what was from you and what was her spit, everything was drenched. She sat up, reaching for the waistband of your panties. Instinctively, you lifted your hips, and she smirked as she pulled them down. “Good job, darlin’, knew exactly what I needed.” Your stomach flipped, and you were sure you were dripping.

Sevika was looking at you like you were prey and she hadn’t eaten in a month. Your cunt was glistening, and you were practically dripping onto the bed. And it was all for her. “Well, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, mama.” You whimpered, entrance clenching at her words, and she could fucking see it. See the way your body reacted to her. She could’ve died a happy woman, right then and there.

She was on her knees again in an instant, tongue finding your clit and sucking. She did all sorts of magical things; twisted her tongue around the bud, flicked it with her tongue, sucked like something would come out if she did. You were practically crying at what she did, it was overwhelming.

Your husband had eaten you out before, several times. He claimed to like it, but it was never quite right. It was never like this. Not when Sevika placed a kiss on your clit and slipped her tongue in you, wasting no time fucking you with her tongue. Her mech hand came up and pinched your nipple, the cool metal feeling like heaven against your overheated skin.

“Sevika,” you cried, fingers winding in her hair as her tongue worked. You were getting close, she could tell. Your clit was twitching and you were clenching around her tongue, but she kissed her way back to your clit and pressed a cautionary finger against your entrance. “Sev, fuck, Sevika, please fill me up, please,” Sevika let out a deep moan into your cunt, her own clit begging for attention.

She kept her mech hand on your nipple while she slowly slid her middle finger into you, stretching you more than your husband’s fingers ever did. She took it slow, going knuckle by knuckle until you bottomed out on her finger. She didn’t rush you, letting you adjust to the feeling of her thick digit inside you before moving.

The feeling of her tongue on your clit and her finger against your g-spot had you crying and whining, begging her for more, more, more, until she gave it to you. She introduced another finger into the mix, letting her ring finger enter you at the same pace as the other.

Two fingers and her tongue must be heaven. She knew exactly what to do, and you were absolutely going to cum. Over and over, at that. She lifted up for a moment, not relenting with her pace. “Come for me, darlin’. Let me have it.”

The knot in your stomach released and all the tension in your muscles relaxed, letting your orgasm flow through your body. Your back arched off the bed and you gripped her hair tightly, the waves of pleasure more intense than any you’d felt before. She made sure she had you coming for as long as she could, unrelenting in her pace until she had milked every drop from you.

You were panting, and you let out a practically pornographic whine when she retracted her fingers from you and stood up, leaning over you. “Open y’r mouth, baby. Stick out your pretty tongue.” Her fingers were quick to breach your lips once your mouth was open, and you shut it around them, sucking your cum off her digits.

Her clit hurt. It was beating so hard, and watching you suck her fingers just made her go even more crazy. She pushed your limits, forcing her fingers further down her throat to see how much you could take. And to her surprise, you took them to the base with no problem, and it made her desperate to see her strap down your throat. “That’s my good girl, ain’t it? Suckin’ me so good.” You moaned, but it was muffled around her fingers.

The hat resting on your closet door handle caught her eye, and a malicious idea bloomed in her. “I want you to ride me, angel. Needa’ come on your pussy.” You sat up, watching her as she grabbed her hat from the closet handle. She tossed it to you and unbuckled her pants, pulling them from her body inch by inch until you got to see all of her. Her boxers came off next, and it was such a sight.

She plopped down on the bed, and you looked at her expectantly, waiting for further instruction. Her legs spread, and she lifted one of them to make space between them for you. You made assumptions, hovering between her legs and glancing over at her. “Ride me, cowgirl. Go until you feel good.”

It took some maneuvering for you to find an angle that worked for both you and Sevika, but when it did, it was earth shattering. Her clit against yours felt like you had been blessed by God, and her wetness seeping into yours felt like she could get you pregnant. She was groaning beneath you, humping you like some kind of fucking dog, and it was the best thing ever.

She reached over and grabbed her hat, placing it on your head. “That’s it, that’s my cowgirl, ain’t it? Fuck, you ride me so well, baby.” You came down harsher against her, the feeling too good to be slow or soft.

“Nnghh- vika,” that is what got Sevika over the edge. Hearing you moan that nickname like a fucking pornstar had her gripping your hips and holding you in place as she fucked up into you and came all over you, whimpering like a bitch in heat. A string of curses fell from her pretty lips before she released your hips and let you chase your second orgasm, one that had you falling onto her chest, unable to move from your fucked out muscles.

After a couple minutes she gently brushed your hair away from your face, admiring your beauty.  You groaned softly, sitting up on your elbow to meet her eyes. “That was really good.” You said, softly. “What if you stay the night?” Sevika shook her head, crawling out of the bed.

“‘m sorry, sweet thing. I don’t feel right stayin’ here after fuckin’ you. ‘s not fair to y’r husband.” You pouted, remembering his existence, to your misfortune. Sudden emotions flooded you as you watched Sevika dress; you just cheated on your husband, and had sex with a woman. Not just any woman - your neighbor. That you would have to see, every day, for the rest of your time living in this neighborhood.

She pressed a tender kiss to your forehead and you let your eyes flutter shut, you let yourself enjoy it before it was wrong. “Bye, Sevika. I’ll see you at happy hour next week?” She smiled softly, knowing she would do anything and everything in her power to be there for you.

“Absolutely, babygirl.” And with that, she was gone.

lmk if you wanna be tagged in future parts!

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

Just 2 years ago I visited a Pet Smart with my mother. The cashier was a cool dude with these gauges in his ears, and tattoos all over, a real rugged punk type like myself!

But as we approached, my mother outright asked him if it was hard to get a job with all of that. She asked if it's impractical to have gauges and tattoos because what if people think poorly of him?

Completely unprompted. She just suddenly began drilling him.

The cashier, gods be with him, brushed it off and took it like a fucking champ, expressing his love for how he appeared and I can't blame him!! He looked badass as hell!! Yet my mother kept pressing and causing obvious discomfort to not just him and myself but others in line as well, as if somehow her berating questions would get him to change. But that man defended himself relentlessly but kindly and with an upbeat attitude!

My mother literally didn't stop trying to push her point until I ushered her out of the store.

Once, as a little kid, I saw a cashier at the art store with blue hair, and seeing that blue is my favorite color, I wanted to compliment her!!

Before we even got in line, my mother pulled me aside and told me, word for word, "Do not say anything about her hair."

I ignored her, of course, and a few seconds after we arrived at the register, I told the woman I liked her hair a lot!

And my mother just exhaustedly sighed and held her head in utter dismay, IMMEDIATELY reprimanding me verbally for having said anything!!! That cashier told my mother it was fine and she was so happy to hear somebody say something nice about her hair!!

While I was walking with my mother through our neighborhood as a kid, we'd passed by a boy shooting hoops or something, but he was making every shot and well, so I said aloud as we passed, "Wow, that boy is REALLY good!"

And my mother SCOLDED me!! She harshly said, word for word, "Magnus, you DON'T do that!" And she was VERY relentless and angry in how she said it.

I was so confused. I still am.

My grandparents were the exact same. I encountered many situations like this when with them growing up. My aunts did the same, reprimenading me for giving a compliment. But all of them found it completely ok to berate a stranger for any reason at all, prompted or unprompted.

I tried asking my mother why I couldn't say something nice, and she couldn't give a valid explanation no matter how much I asked. All my mother did was continuously insist I don't do that (complimenting a stranger), and that it's rude to say anything of the sort.

Why is it so abhorrent to say someone is good at something? Why is it horrible if I tell someone their appearance is cool? If their talents are great? Why is it acceptable to berate somebody and call them out for any minor reason completely unprompted, but it's not acceptable to voice unprompted kindness and support with genuine desire to share love???

Why is rudeness acceptable but kindness isn't????

Now, I'm autistic, and I don't even pretend to understand social norms. But I do know how kindness can literally save lives, and how it genuinely just makes shit better for everyone no matter if they're having a good day or bad, when they are given a genuine compliment. So I was never sure if this is just some double standard or if it's something deeper, either or obviously being ingrained over many generations, but I say fuck it.

I compliment strangers constantly these days. I tell folks their tattoos are awesome, that I love their earrings, their outfits are so cool and well put together, their hair looks perfect! I compliment folks on their talents, and I'm genuine and heartfelt about it, meaning every word I say with sincerity!!

Strangers have given me hugs! People have broken down crying and hugged me for my I kindness!!! So many people have told me word for word, "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me!" And I'm not kidding.

I find every possible reason to compliment somebody, to voice kindness, especially for things such as piercings and hair dye and talents and the sort, especially those that many would disapprove of.

The way I see it is that if nobody ever hears support, then how will they know they're being supported at all? And if all anyone voices is disdain and berating, then how does anyone feel loved and supported??

So yeah. I don't get the whole belief of compliments = rude, and berating = fine. I don't think I'll ever know why this is normalized here.

But I'm damn tired of this because it's the precursor to allowing folks to walk all over you. If you can't voice a kind compliment to another without being shut down, then you're never going to be able to vocalize support of someone in need when they're being berated harshly and given shit left and right.

weird as fuck living in a culture where it's considered more impolite to speak up and defend yourself against someone treating you unfairly than it is for someone to be rude to you in the first place

[pisceanfilm]

⋆ ｡  𐀔  ° ‧     what does this person want you to know?

KEYWORDS: romance, relationships, (past) situationships, seperation, energy check between you and your person of romantic interest.

ꕤ * ． pile one. → ꕤ * ． pile two. → ꕤ * ． pile three.

relax your body, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. ask yourself: "which pile has a message for me today?" when you open your eyes, what image did your eyes fall on? what image do you feel most drawn to energetically? that's your pile!

this reading is timeless! it will cross your path whenever it's meant to find you 🍀 while my main intention was to channel someone you're already involved with, you can also use this for your sp, a future partner, a soulmate, or whoever you're thinking about!!

PILE # 01

your person is a true yearner, i'll tell you this much. their heart is very fragile, they want you to know they're scared of getting hurt, of being betrayed. this is a person who didn't have many healthy relationships in the past. they're confused, unsure what to do, and just wishes to avoid it all right now.

they're very much fantasising about a future with you, though... they want it all with you, they loooove your laugh. (i'm seeing that maybe they want to travel with you? explore the world together is what i heard.) with you on their side, they feel invincible. they really want you on their team. when this person has been processing their emotions healthily, i see that they're very attentive, unafraid of showing a passionate desire towards you, and generally very caring and loving. they appreciate you so much, you're the brightest star in their existence.

however, if this person isn't standing strong in their emotions, i see them being very hot and cold. when you're together, everything feels right. you feel secure, you feel like there's something there. but when you're apart i see that you're very confused by the energy of your relationship. your mind appears to be your biggest enemy: do they like me? am i good enough for them? is this something that could work out? (i see that this is you picking up on the energy of your person... their confusion and doubts are making you doubtful as well.)

what i'm hearing is that you need to focus on your own healing and stability, so you can help this person heal energetically as well. this is a connection that's mostly guided by the divine. (currently there's a lot happening behind the scenes that you aren't even aware of.) you're meant to heal and complete certain cycles with this person for sure, this is not the end of the connection. so have faith, and trust that everything will align!!

a letter from your person: do you think about me too? i can't get you out of my head, no matter how much i try. you're always there. it frustrates me, how easy it would be for you to secure a spot inside of my heart. how well we could work together if i let my guard down. i'm scared, though. scared of hurting you, scared of hurting myself, scared of failing. what if i have something so beautiful with you and then ruin it by my fears and self sabotaging tendencies? i don't know why you still stick around, but i'm trying to be a better person. please call me out on my bullshit, i need you to be firm and stand your ground. don't take shit from me, i know i need to step up. i care for you, i'm trying to put my ego aside.

PILE # 02

god help my soul, i'm sensing a very intense and determined energy coming from your person 😭 this is definitely giving me the energy of an ex, or a situationship that was meant to take off but somehow didn't (i see this being your person's fault, for sure). this person absolutely regrets losing you. they're the reason things aren't moving forward. they blame themselves, they're angry and devastated. they wish they could've done things differently.

in the most favourable outcome, i see this person working on healing themselves. they're going through an ego death/dark night of the soul and are questioning everything and everyone around them. in this reflection i see them wanting to become a better person (for you), if you're willing to give them a chance. they want to love you right, they want to show you how much you mean to them... i see them wanting to swoop in and steal you away so you can ride into the sunset together!!

if this person refuses to face their demons, however, i see that spirit is going to give them a very difficult time unfortunately</3 they will hit them with the same harsh lessons over and over again until they finally see the light. in this case i see spirit keeping this connection in a separation (or limbo) in order to protect you. you can't heal this person right now... if they open their eyes, if they're able to see... they would understand what you truly mean to them. what a treasure they had in front of them. they will get there, though. it might take some time, i'm hearing.

depending on your situation with this person, only take them back if you can see that they've changed!! you know this is the case when they come back and show humble energy, that they're able to admit that they were wrong. i see, for some of you, they truly fucked up. so please use your discernment! losing you has been their biggest regret, though, and they will be carrying this guilt for a very long time...

a letter from your person: i'm going to win you back. i'll return to you and prove that i can be the person you need me to be. i'm sorry for hurting you in the past, i'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't good enough. apologies won't cut it, i know things need to change. i'm working on facing my demons. you were right, you made me realise i need to heal. i hope you still will be there when i come back... do you have someone new? are you willing to forgive me? i messed up, and losing you will be the biggest regret of my life.

PILE # 03

this is such a sweet and gentle energy, i just want to squish their cheeks<33 i see many different scenarios for you two. you could be dating, this could be a secret admirer, this could be your friend... this person feels very hesitant to me. i feel like they often have a poker face or wear a mask. i sense that you might pick up that they're hiding something from you/aren't being 100% authentic. don't be afraid, they aren't hiding anything malicious! if anything, i see they're hiding the depth of their emotions for you. they fear coming off too strong, they fear scaring you away. if you're in a relationship together, i see them wanting to take the next step... (making things official, living together, an engagement maybe? 🤭) they want to move things forward in a fruitful way, they want to give you all the love in the world. they're sooooo gentle with you, this makes my heart want to burst with love. they have such good intentions with you and they want to make you happy for as long as you'll have them<3

i don't feel any negative energies for this pile</3 literally, the worst case scenario here is that your person is a bit hesitant and reluctant to show the depths of their true feelings for you. they fear rejection, they fear being judged by you. (i see this person really cares and values your opinion of them, so your rejection would hurt tbh.) they're mostly testing the waters right now, trying to figure out what you want and what you're ready for. this is a very considerate person! but again, their insecurities might stop them from taking any action right now.

you have such a special place in their heart, it's no joke. you must have such a beautiful and powerful energy because this person literally loves every. single. thing. about. you. they see you as their sun, their moon, their stars, their whole universe... you mean a lot to them. i think the depth of their emotions scares them as well, to be honest. but i see them being brave and facing this head on. they want you, they know they want you, so i see them making a very significant move in the very near future.

please, my pile 3, be gentle with their heart<3 their energy is so pure and wholesome, they could be such a bright light in your darkness! i'm hearing that, if you aren't sure of this person's intentions, know that it's safe to trust them. you'll be very pleasantly surprised with what's waiting for you if you open your heart!

a letter from your person: do you like me? you shine so bright, sometimes it's blinding me. you radiate so much warmth, you make me so happy. when i'm with you there's no other place i'd rather be. did you know this? i'm placing my heart in your hands, i surrender myself to you...

(i'm not getting much more from them because this person is a bit shy... but when i'm in their energy... their heart just glows thinking about you. i see shy smiles, unable to keep eye contact without blushing, i feel like sometimes they need to take breaks from you because you're so overwhelming. love love love this energy 🩷)

[ryker-writes]

Hello 👋 Ryker!

Can you write more headcanon of Dating Idia and Malleus (Poly relationship) maybe how each of the family or friends react to their relationship.

Of course! It makes me very happy that people liked the poly headcanons so much and want to see more! And I’m happy to deliver!

Request rules and masterlist

First part

More general thoughts:

Idia and Malleus are quite the pair to be dating

Once the students around the school are able to confirm it’s true that you are, in fact, dating both of them, news spreads quickly

Malleus doesn’t care so much about the news, why shouldn’t people know you’re together?

Idia however, is very overwhelmed by it all

Regardless of how long you’ve been dating, he still sometimes has these moments of thinking “How did I get here? Did I upgrade my charisma stats without knowing? Was it the charisma stat that made them fall, or was it a different stat?”

And as someone who prefers to stay in the background and avoid the public eye, the fact that everyone at school knows you’re dating him and Malleus causes a lot of panic

We’re talking like barely leave his room even just into Ignihyde kinda panic

It takes a while for him to calm down, and he gets spooked when people bring it up thinking they’re comparing him to Malleus

He might subtly be inviting you to his room more often because he needs the support without saying he needs he support

Speaking of support, let’s talk about how they want support/show support

Now these two are more reserved people, and tend to keep a lot of their thoughts inside and tend to stray away from large crowds. That being said, they simply enjoy your presence being in the same area as them, double the effect if both you and the other are there

Malleus enjoys having you and Idia there, and Idia enjoys having you and Malleus there (regardless of how out of place Malleus looks in his room)

Idia prefers doing his own thing while you guys do your own thing in the same area, while Malleus prefers doing activities together

But oh boy, these two feel most supported if you listen to them

I hope you’re a good listener, because wow these two can go on for hours if you let them

Idia and Malleus both love when people they care about get interested in the things they love, and get even more excited when they ask questions

They aren’t too physically affectionate people though

Idia gets nervous and panics at small unexpected touches, and Malleus keeps touches light and respectful

Most of the times it’s hand holding, a hand on your lower back as you walk, and maybe a hug if they’re feeling it

They coordinate surprisingly well when it comes to special events like your birthday, holidays, or school festivals

Instead of spending time one on one with them, they both are there for you during events

Idia likes it because people tend to steer clear of Malleus and there's guards keeping things out of his way, so Idia doesn't have to worry as much about dealing with people (the only unfortunate part is dealing with Sebek)

You basically get the royal treatment just by being with them, and that's the way they believe it's supposed to be

They are very mindful of each other during these events too. Malleus is careful about going into largely populated areas, and Idia tries to make sure Malleus is included in activities (in Idia's awkward way)

The dynamic being in a relationship with both of them works pretty well!

And then there's the friends/family

Lilia:

Lilia is actually very happy about this

Briar Valley culture is a bit...reserved and old fashioned, but Lilia is a man who's open to seeing and experiencing new things, so he's happy to see Malleus is too!

Having one partner is great, but two? He's very happy for Malleus

He does worry about how things will work out in the future with Malleus being royalty and having two partners, but that's an issue for later

He's pretty happy it's you and Idia of all people too!

Lilia loves video games, so he helps Malleus learn about them so he can communicate and bond better with Idia, and he's happy because then Malleus can play with him too

He feels like a proud dad watching Malleus with you and Idia

Silver:

Silver hasn't interacted with Idia much, so he can't speak on Idia's character, but he knows you! And he thinks you're good for Malleus, so he has no objections

As long as Malleus is happy, he really doesn't mind however Malleus chooses to have a relationship

He's pretty accepting of almost anything, so he doesn't even question the three of you dating or anything

He does try to get to know Idia more because of this though! Since Silver is the most calm among Malleus' guards, it actually goes pretty well and him and Idia communicate well

Sebek:

What do you expect, really? Of course Sebek is freaking out

His Liege has TWO partners?! What?!

Don't get him wrong, he has nothing against people having multiple partners, to each their own

But this is Malleus! The future ruler of Briar Valley! Sebek is going crazy that Malleus even has one partner and is of course judging them heavily to see if they're good enough for Malleus, but now there's two to judge!

Yeah, Idia avoids Sebek as much as possible

Sebek really doesn't want to question Malleus and his decisions, but he doesn't see the appeal of Idia

Malleus is quick to shut down Sebek's judgement and criticisms once he's aware of them, and Sebek will feel terrible

Ortho:

He's ecstatic!

Ortho has been trying for so long to get Idia out more and among more people, and you and Malleus help him a lot with that and he can tell you both make Idia really happy!

He's very proud of Idia and has no issues with you or Malleus

Sometimes he worries about Idia comparing himself to Malleus, but he's seen you and Malleus reassure him before, and how deeply the two of you care for Idia

Ortho feels like he doesn't have to worry as much about Idia since he has the two of you with him

He knows in his heart that the three of you will last a very long time

[invincibledc]

OMG I NEED MORE JACK QUINN IM GNAWING AT MY CAGES AHHH ONESHOTS, STORY, KIDNAPPED TROPE ANYTHING AHHHG

۶ৎ𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐧’ 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐫

────୨ৎ────

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 (𝐎𝐂) 𝐗 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐎!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

ᯓ★ Synopsis: it’s sweet when he cares for you, and then it’s sour when he wants to be funny.

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff oneshot

ᯓ★ Info: this OC is an OC I’m written for my own amusement. He’s the son of Harley Quinn and joker. Full name, Jacklyn Oswald Quinn. I got bored. Reader is the twin brother of Damian, but Damian is the older twin of course. Im only a writer so you can imagine who he looks more like but all I can is he is handsome canonically in my head and anything. Boy’s crazy but handsome.

ᯓ★ Word count: 826

It was a dark and stormy night, and you were dressed in matching slick pajamas while Jack wore grey sweatpants and a white shirt. You were at his condo, a refuge for him away from his father, The Joker. Or just from the world itself.

He sat entranced by the TV, oblivious to your approach with a bowl of popcorn. His blonde hair was damp, clinging to his forehead, and his blue eyes were lost in thought.

“Jack?” you called, breaking through his distraction. A smile instantly appeared on his face as you took a seat beside him, placing the popcorn on your lap. “Yeah, puddin'?” he responded in his raspy voice. But you shot him a look, one that immediately wiped the grin off his face.

“You’re not fine,” you stated firmly. “Just because you're the Joker's son doesn’t mean you have to be like him.” Your tone was soft yet resolute, and he leaned into your fingers as you brushed through his hair.

“Of course, baby…” he replied, his eyes softening with sincerity. You could see the love in his gaze as he pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Your thighs pressed firmly together as you locked eyes with Jack, exuding confidence. He leaned in and gave you a quick peck on the lips.

“Alright, what movie are we watching this time?” he asked, diverting his attention to the bowl of buttery popcorn.

“I’ve picked The Exorcist. It’s the perfect choice for a dark and stormy night,” you declared confidently, wearing an assertive smile. Jack couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You’re so cute, baby.” As you got off his lap, he started playing the movie you selected. You settled next to him with the popcorn bowl in your lap. The movie began, and Jack rested his head on yours, his hand securely on your waist as he took a generous handful of popcorn and stuffed it into his mouth.

When it gets to the part of Regan spider walking down the stairs with blood in her mouth, you can't help but cringe. In fear, of course, it was so scary, a spider walking down the stairs, blood dripping from her mouth.

Jack noticed this, inside he was smirking, realizing this was such a good boyfriend moment. On the outside, he frowns, pushing your head into his neck.

There you smelt his woody scent, you also felt his breathing pattern. “It's okay baby, I'm here,” he says softly, his natural hoarse voice soothing you.

Throughout the movie, you were relaxed against the blonde-haired male, as he was your protector from the scares of the movie. Finally, it was midnight, Jack yawned, stretching his arms whilst looking at you.

“You good, babe?” he asked, noticing your calm demeanor, even though he knew your feelings about horror movies despite being the one to choose them.

“I’m completely fine,” you replied confidently. Jack raised an eyebrow and stood up from the couch, prompting you to look at him directly.

With his hair finally dry, he added, “If you say so, I’ll be in bed waiting for you. Just wash the bowl, alright, love?” His tone was soft yet firm. Nodding, you stood up and walked to the kitchen, hearing his footsteps as he headed upstairs.

You prepared to wash the bowl, filling it with soup and warm water while scrubbing away the remnants of butter. You hummed a soft tune, deliberately ignoring the rain tapping against the window of the condo.

The room was dimly lit by the moonlight, creating a surprisingly relaxing atmosphere despite everything else. Once you finished with the bowl and dried your hands, you made your way to the stairs.

As you approached the bedroom, you halted, noticing the door was ajar. Jack wasn’t fond of closed doors—or even slightly open ones. You raised an eyebrow and approached the door cautiously, calling out his name with a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Jack?” you said softly, pushing the door open. The bed was untouched, and your heart raced as you scanned the room, anxiety creeping in.

“Jack?!” you exclaimed, ready to turn and run when suddenly, Jack popped up.

“Boo!” he exclaimed, catching you completely off guard.

You didn't even scream, you punched him in his face on instinct, even flipping him onto his back. Your killer instinct ended before you could kick his head in, he yells for mercy with a slightly scared but amused face.

“Babe! It's me! Calm down puddin'.” he says. You scoffed and got off him. “Jack. That wasn't funny.” Jack couldn't help but laugh, standing up and dusting himself off.

“Sorry sorry, but you lied about being fine. You can't even handle scary movies,” he says, going to hug you, but you swiftly move from him.

“Nah uh. Nope, you’re sleeping on the couch,” you said firmly and laid in the bed, ignoring the kicked puppy face from Jack who whined.

“Noooo cmonnn…”

“Nope.”

[motley-box-rose-1]

This is a really well thought out take on the show! I just finished the series, so I’m still mulling over the feelings and ideas that it left me, but the show as whole felt very…. Not just women-centric, but really focused on marginalized people. Which is probably obvious, because each character could be read in that way, but that aside there does seem to be a definite focus on Bride, Nina, and women in general. Honestly, I don’t think the show comes off as misogynistic at all—or at least not enough for me to get that read on my first watch. All of the female characters feel autonomous, multi-faceted, distinct from one another, visually unique, and are genuinely entertaining. just as importantly, they’re allowed to have moments of horror and vulnerability that reflect types of real experiences that people—and women—go through.

I guess I can admit that the show feels a bit *thirsty* at times, but honestly it feels way less creepy than some actual comic books I’ve read, the superhero genre notoriously being all about showing off abs and butts and boobs. I don’t think it crosses a line beyond in that area, or if it does then I wouldn’t say it focuses that lens exclusively on women.

However, getting back to talking about what you bring up, I’m still trying to piece together the over arching theme(s)—the WHY behind how each episode was structured. The show never gets preachy, but there are some specific moments that stand out as being there to SAY something.

To sum all this up, thanks for pointing out Rick Flag and WHY he was paired with Eric. It makes his role in the narrative much more clear, and also explains and gives context for how he chooses to handle Eric—Rick doesn’t care about Eric’s intentions towards Bride or whether she’d actually want Eric to find her. Maybe it crosses his mind for an instant very early on, when Rick visibly realizes that Eric is totally off his rocker, but he’s obviously willing to set that aside for the sake of pursuing what HE wants and considers more important. And while I wouldn’t label Rick as necessarily a bad guy who has malicious intentions, I don’t see him as a particularly strong character either. And by “strong” I’m referring to moral integrity and backbone. Rick has morals and good intentions, sure, but he neither sticks to his values either Ilana, nor does anything to really help the monsters despite acting like he views them as people and saying he wants the group to trust them. And maybe you could blame the Ilana thing as Rick just being lonely and naive? But that little dalliance and his reaction to Circe’s news comes off as kind of immature, especially when he’s supposed to be an older guy who’s been around the block.

Anyway, that’s just me rambling. Regardless, it’s nice to see some great posts related to this show!

Spoilers for Creature Commandos

I saw a post on her critiquing James Gunn’s portrayal of women in his show Creature Commandos. This post states that he usually does a very good job of writing women, but this just isn’t it and cites Princess Ilana’s sexual advances towards Flag, Nina’s nude portrayals in the bath, The Bride’s backstory, and Amanda Waller’s comments on Circe’s outfit. And while all these criticisms are completely valid I would like to raise a point that these scenes exist to critique the way women are viewed not just in society, but especially in comics

Creature Commandos hinges on women. Women are the center of everything.

Firstly, we have The Bride, who many point out does not even have her own name. She is made for a person who does not care for her or anyone yet feels entitled to her to the point of pursuing her for centuries, determined to capture her even if he has to knock her unconscious to do it. She is groomed by her father and taken advantage of. Eric’s continued pursuant of her leads to him teaming up with Flag.

Next, we have Rick Flag who initially comes off as a stand up guy. He doesn’t like the sexual advances of Princess Ilana… until he does. It’s repeated that he’s a much older man, which while he’s hot, leads to him infantilizing her. He views her as this innocent princess which is why Circe’s vision causes him to flip out and show his true colors. He immediately tries to accuse Circe of lying, and when no one believes him states that Themyscira isn’t event real, to which he has to be reminded that it is. His next action is then to team with Eric and try to discredit the expert on Themyscira. He refuses to see women outside of how he wants to see them, and while he’s not entitled and violent like Eric they are teamed up together thematically for a reason because they will burn the world down to get the girl they believe is theirs whether that girl exists or not.

On that topic, Themyscira is brought up as a recurring theme throughout the show. Almost every episode it is brought up in some capacity and it’s very existence is constantly called into question by the men of the series. The news anchor says it may not exist despite the fact that Circe is there in the present. Rick Flag denies it exists, and must be reminded it is. Despite this he stalks a woman and breaks into her house to prove that 1. She’s full of shit and 2. She’s not a real expert. When Themyscira is acknowledged to exist it is met with blatant misogyny.

The picture used on the news is of girls in bikinis. The Sons of Themyscira feel entitled to it because it is a land of all women. Even when Flag is corrected by someone about Themyscira’s existence that man then says that a land of women sounds like heaven, implying sex. Even Waller comments on the inherent sexuality of Circe’s costume.

To that comment, I think it is meant to point out how sexualized female characters are. Something we saw with Suicide Squad (2016) vs Birds of Prey, is a break down of the male versus female gaze. What does a woman’s outfit look like when it’s designed for sex appeal vs practicality. I think Waller’s call to attention to Circe’s outfit is to call into question would SHE dress herself this way? Obviously male artists are going to draw her that way, but why does SHE choose it. It meta-reflects how women are being portrayed in comics especially when most female costumes start out hyper-sexualized.

Finally, Nina nude. I think, once again, this is done intentionally and on purpose. Nina is the only character who does not want to kill. She hasn’t. She has no abilities outside of the water and really shouldn’t be on the team. She’s vulnerable, but you don’t see how vulnerable she really is until it’s shown her naked, cramped into a tiny bathtub. She’s alone and out of place despite literally being in her element, and she still has no protection. She is physically vulnerable the way the The Bride, Ilana, Circe and all women are vulnerable to the male gaze and men’s attitudes towards them.

Female solidarity is what keeps the plot moving, and male Interference is what creates the drama and conflict. Circe views Ilana as a literal threat, not just a helpless princess. Amanda Waller believes Circe immediately, and when there are still doubts she calls in an expert. She trusts The Bride to lead the team because the Bride won’t fuck Ilana. The Bride looks after and protects Nina because she knows Nina isn’t supposed to be in jail or in a combat situation at all. However, Flag’s infantilization of Ilana + Eric’s violent entitlement towards The Bride has led to a horrible team which have jeopardized the mission and may have caused Circe’s future to come true.

In conclusion, let James Gunn cook.

[hitlikehammers]

the one where eddie blinks one day and wonders how he could be so blind as to only just be realizing his best-friend-roommate-sworn-in-blood-fucking-soulmate (or close enough) has been his whole heart, this whole time ♥️

(but what if he’s made his sweetheart wait too long? 🥺)

(that’s more a me thought than a thought in the fic though; trust the tags 💕)

He can’t for the life of him understand what makes today different. What makes him breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth with his eyes lifted to Steve mid-breath, and in the clench of his heartbeat he sees it. Nothing feels any different but he understands all at once what it means that it doesn’t. And that makes all the difference. Because when he opens his mouth on the exhale it’s like his heartbeat pushes up all the things that have lived in him maybe for forever, that he maybe just didn’t add up as two plus two fucking equals— “I love you.” —equals…Steve.

rating: t ♥️ tags: post s4, feelings realizations♥️, but they were roommates!, (and maybe never just roommates), love confessions, oblivious!eddie Munson, fluff, softness✨, 💕so domestic💕, idiot4man-who-conveniently-loves-his-idiot♥️ let me EMPHASISE SOFTNESS, okay?!?!???

for @steddielovemonth day twenty-seven: “Well, it seems to me that the best relationships - the ones that last - are frequently the ones that are rooted in friendship. You know, one day you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before. Like a switch has been flicked somewhere. And the person who was just a friend is... suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with.” ― Gillian Anderson

Eddie’s doing what he realizes he does most weekend afternoons. Most evenings in general, even.

They get home from work, or for Steve sometimes it’s school, working on his course load part-time at the community college. They make dinner, bring it home sometimes, order delivery if the budget’s landing in their favor—it hadn’t for a while once they moved, got out of Hawkins and went to Indy as soon as they could once Robin got into school there, but they’re levelling back out, and they’ve got a little flexibility left even as they set aside some of every pay check for trips back home, the possible need to move when Robin graduates because she wants a master’s either in Boston or Chicago, maybe Philadelphia. San Francisco was floated once or twice, too—they plan for all contingencies.

And who the fuck would have seen that coming: Eddie Munson. Planning. Considering a budget. Sticking to a budget. Working a fully legal job with a W-2 and everything. Making his half of the rent.

And again, ending up right here in this very instant: stretched across the couch—the one they nabbed from Steve’s house when they decided to move in together as real roommates versus just half living at each other’s houses, and managed to prove could in fact be broken in to the point of relative comfort when it was actually being used—but he’s stretched over it, ankles dangling off the end and head propped on Steve’s thigh where he takes up the far cushion, and today Eddie’s just reading, tomorrow he might work on fitting words to the chords he put down earlier in the week, or he might sketch a little further into one of the campaigns he’s building—not the one for the gremlins back home that he promised to bring and run for them over the holidays, but the one for the group he’s found here, who he likes well enough and whose DM had moved shortly before Steve and Eddie had gotten their apartment, almost like fate. Maybe he’ll do something entirely different tomorrow, who knows.

Like he said: he ends up this way, here like this, at some point just about every day.

He can’t for the life of him understand what makes today different. What makes him breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth with his eyes lifted to Steve mid-breath, and in the clench of his heartbeat he sees it. Nothing feels any different but he understands all at once what it means that it doesn’t.

And that’s makes all the difference.

Because when he opens his mouth on the exhale it’s like his heartbeat pushes up all the things that have lived in him maybe for forever, that he maybe just didn’t add up as two plus two fucking equals—

“I love you.”

—equals…Steve.

“Yeah.”

Eddie blinks. It’s a warm thing, that word, and Steve’s lips quirk a little, pleased-like, but Steve’s…Steve doesn’t even look away from the textbook he’s highlighting.

“I said I love you.”

Because Eddie…Eddie is running to quick through his head and he kinda thinks maybe he’s loved Steve since the Upside Down, but where he just kinda tossed that in with his love for everyone he fought the end of the world alongside, with Steve being at the top of the list because Steve had unexpectedly become his best friend, his closest confidant, the paladin to his bard and the closest, truest thing he had to family outside of Wayne, and so different from what he has with Wayne and—

And all of that, all of all of it was love of a wholly different kind, wasn’t it? From the fucking first and Eddie feels like an idiot for only putting it together, and not even consciously just—overflowing with it finally that somewhere at the fucking…cellular level, it couldn’t be contained.

So yeah, Eddie feels like a fucking idiot. He feels the slightest, like, frisson of anxiousness for saying it, the clear truth of what kind of love he’d meant ringing in Eddie’s each, pulsing through Eddie’s veins not just once but now twice but none of that means anything in the face of the giddy joyswelling undiluted through him, that makes him need to be absolutely sure Steve heard him.

No matter the consequences.

The tilt of Steve’s lips purses into more of a smirk, but still, like, a good one. But all he does it cap his highlighter and glance down at Eddie to poke the tip of his nose playfully with the pen-tip as he deadpans, or…no.

As he sasses:

“Yeah.”

He makes to go back to his homework, opens the text and then his highlighter again with his mouth this time—weirdly sexy, and it was always sexy, Eddie’s always found Steve extremely sexy but he’d figured that was just the plight of the gay guy with a model-gorgeous roommate; he’s a fucking moron, isn’t he?—and then Steve does something that’s not unprecedented or anything; actually happens pretty often: threads his finger through Eddie’s messy curls and just kinda, plays with the strands, massages at the scalp.

It’s a minute, even if Eddie feels it like an age, with Eddie’s own pulse jackhammering at the base of his throat, mind reeling, before Steve’s had slows; stills.

Eddie feels his weight shift and looks up, needy more than he’s a little terrified as Steve moves his gaze and locks eyes with him proper before asking, very slow:

“Did you just realize that it doesn’t have to called that out loud, to be that in all of this,” he gestures with his highlighter around the room, around their apartment, around their home—their home—and then softens, presses the tip of his marker to eddies sternum before he pauses, must see something in Eddie’s eyes before he slides his hand down the barrel and taps Eddie’s chest with his palm, intent heavy and clear as me breathes low, quirking his brow meaningfully:

“In here?”

And hell if Eddie’s pulse doesn’t jackrabbit a little: called-out but then also like it knows how to preen under an attention it’s quite possibly always wanted, and finally has?

Jesus.

“In everything?” Steve’s voice is low but his eyes glitter knowingly; there’s no hesitation; just observation. There’s no…there not even a shred of doubt.

And it’s kinda wild, because where Eddie…guesses he might have expected Steve to be waiting for the declarations, after the history he’s had in love of all sorts, he…he sees how maybe it’s that exact history that meant Steve, who reads people better than words on a page, would pick up on what real love was, whatever shape it finally took. Eddie feels fucking buoyant with it, vibrating with it, can’t even stew in the regret that it’s taken this long to say and recognize because Steve’s right: they were never just roommates. They weren’t just planning out budgets.

They’ve been building a life. And it’s…

It’s kind of fucking beautiful.

“I love you,” Eddie says again, this time heavy with feeling but…but it’s featherlight, like a sigh after holding his breath for…like, shit; since birth, maybe. “I’m in love with you.”

Steve’s smile doesn’t broaden too wide, more for the fact that he chews on his lip a little: endeared and amused and real fucking close to giggling and fuck, fuck: Eddie loves him.

He loves him.

And his smile might not change too much—or else, not to the untrained eye, and that’s sure as shit not Eddie’s—but Steve’s eyes.

Steve’s eyes dance and glow like starlight, half sun and half constellation; half life giving and half breathtaking.

“Love you too,” Steve says simply, traces Eddie’s cheekbone delicately, dare he say adoringly, with the pad of his thumb before going back to his textbook, one hand back to playing with Eddie’s hair.

So much the same. So much so different. So much…so much.

Eddie rests a hand on his own chest as he muses idly, just takes the feelings in as they rise in him and suffuse his whole being; watches Steve and feels under his palm when his heartbeat trips over itself in a giddy kind of way that he knows he gives away on his face for the way he feels his cheeks stretch.

“You look very happy with yourself,” Steve eventually darts a glance from the page over Eddie’s way, but looks something very arguably close to fucking delighted in his own right, so Eddie doesn’t hold back.

Doesn’t think he’s ever going to hold back, in this; takes a second to be thankful for not…understanding before he did just now because the idea of holding this back, of drawing it out or trying to hide it while he wondered or worried—it’s unfathomable in this moment. Under the warm glow of Steve’s gaze, those hands in Eddie’s hair.

“So fucking happy,” Eddie squirms a little where he lies, throwing himself a little more squarely in Steve’s lap and fuck, it feels so right, and Steve just huffs a little laugh and twists to use eddies chest as a table for his textbook, so Eddie can stare up at him as he threads fingers through Eddie’s hair again—and maybe it’s just in his head but that touch feels a little bit firmer. Not…not truer, but decisive somehow in a brand new way.

Nothing different; but understood, now, which makes all the difference.

“So happy I can barely stand it,” Eddie sighs, turning to nuzzle into Steve’s stomach through his worn sweatshirt, imagining doing it without the fabric in between, straight against the gloriously coils of that fucking chest hair—and Eddie startles, if only on the inside, to realize how that’s not the first time he’s thought that thought, just the first time it’s built up fire in his belly like this, like it’s something he might get to have—

“I’m gonna kiss you when we get up.”

Eddie realizes that’s another thing he’s never done, but was very aware of thinking about, even before; he just knew it wouldn’t happen. Again: just the unavoidable plight of the queer dude whose best friend is stunning.

“Sounds great, babe,” Steve leans, and it shifts Eddie a little because it’s worth it for the tease of what’s to come in the way Steve presses lips to the mop of Eddie’s hair, says babe the same way maybe Eddies been saying big boy and sweetheartthe entire time.

Holy fuck, man.

He’s gonna work on lyrics tomorrow, when he’s lying like this. Against Steve’s warm, steady, perfect presence. He’s gonna work on the lyrics.

He’s absolutely certain, now, that those bars he’d fine-tuned were meant for a ballad.

He leans his head a little close into Steve’s stomach, makes sure he’s steady enough to keep Steve’s book from falling, and closes his eyes. Listens to Steve breathing under his ear—fuck yeah, a ballad.

A love song, even.

✨also on ao3

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @allmyfavoritethingsinoneblog @anthrobrat @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @disrespectedgoatman @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @madigoround @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here and here and here

[grandmaster-paradox]

I would go so far as to say Obi-Wan was significantly closer to Cody than either Padmé or (especially) Satine?

I’m not saying he didn’t love both women as well. However, Satine always felt like she came out of left field to me - more a teen romance that remained on a pedestal and didn’t mature with age rather than his greatest love interest. And there was definitely love and respect between him and Padmé but from what I’ve seen/read I’m not sure how close they actually were? Between how short a time they actually knew each other (it’s implied in the second movie that they hadn’t seen each other in ten years and then the war happened) and their respective jobs keeping them focused on other things, they didn’t seem to have that much time to actually get to know one another, personally. Plus, Padmé a was always with Anakin when she was with a Jedi.

(Related, I’d assume there were Jedi he was closer to than either of those two (in fact, why wasn’t Ashoka on that list? He never got confirmation that she survived, did he?) so why wasn’t anyone else on that list?).

Compare that to OnI-Wan’s relationship with the clones - Commander Cody in particular but not exclusively. They lived together, they worked together, they fought and bled and died together. They learned to rely on each other and trust each other. Whether you want to look at things with ship goggles on or not, there is a bond there that would be so much stronger than anything Obi-Wan would have with either Padmé or Satine.

In fact, given the hierarchical and parental/guardian nature of his relationships with both Anakin and Qui-Gon, there’s a good argument Cody in particular was the closest Obi-Wan ever had to a long-term work partner who was his equal. Yes, he out ranked Cody as a High General, but he also out ranked very nearly everyone he worked with during the war as well (ever seen one of those scales that showed just how hilariously much Obi-Wan outranked Anakin as General of a Systems Army compared to Anakin’s single battalion?). As Marshall Commander, Cody was at the highest ranking a clone could get - so far as I can tell - and it’s obvious in the show that he has a lot of freedom and authority to work with. And also that Obi-Wan trusts and relies on him to use that authority as needed.

There’s no chance they weren’t extremely close - friends, lovers, brothers, however you want to look at it, it doesn’t really matter. The point is the bond between them, not the nature of that bond.

Clone erasure - Cody erasure - by Star Wars authors is incredibly meta in a weird way that I’m not sure how to articulate but it both depresses me and pisses me off. In-story, most of the Galaxy sees the clones as little more than a single monolith made up of millions of interchangeable parts - no single one of which is of any particular value. We, the audience, get to know individual clones as the singular entities they are - with their unique personalities, relationships, hopes, dreams, and more - so we know better. We love the clones individually. Yet somehow, many official SW authors fall into the same trap as the in-universe characters who dismiss the clones’ importance as people effecting the story rather than objects being effected and ignore their relationships to the main characters* entirely. I’m not sure what that says about these authors - I’m not sure it says anything at all - but given how the SW fandom has long cottoned on to the slave-army implications inherent with the clones very existence, being so quick to dismiss or ignore them to highlight more “important” or “unique” characters is rather disturbing.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this. This whole post is a rambling mess. I’m sorry.

* I asterisk because I see Satine more as an object affecting things than many of the clones. Even in the episode she’s in, she’s a plot device more than a person - though she was somewhat better in the ya novel. Yet somehow Satine gets to be a named character in Obi-Wan’s list of lost loved ones while no clones - better fleshed out characters within the story - are named. It’s baffling.

I've been seeing this quote from the Claudia Gray line from "Master and Apprentice" go around:

Every person Obi-Wan ever truly loved—Anakin, Satine, Padmé, and Qui-Gon himself—came to a terrible end.

And, like, okay, maybe unreliable narrator, but. Tell me you don't know any combat veterans without telling me you don't know any combat veterans.

Because after three years of war, Obi-Wan is going to truly love at least some of his men to the same level as he loves those four.

Christopher Cantwell's Obi-Wan comic gets it. Three of the five issues — which cover more than just the Clone War — show how deeply Obi-Wan cares about the clone troopers he led and served with. And, ahem, how he misses Cody to this day, to be precise.

And, if I'm allowed to get a little "conspiracy Charlie" meme, if "so it goes with my friends, it seems" refers to Anakin also trying to kill him, then Obi-Wan puts his relationship with Cody on the same level as his relationship to Anakin, ergo canonically Obi-Wan also loved Cody in his own way. QED.

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

Unbalanced

“So if I have this right,” Henry said, “this love potion makes you—” he hesitated. He was unkeen to say 'fuck' so boldly. “It makes you want to fornicate? And makes you sick if you don’t?”

“Terribly sick, m’lord."

Henry and Hans accidentally drink a love potion. But the only way to save themselves from a horrible end is to rebalance their bodies, and the only way they can do that is with each other.

Medieval fuck-or-die by way of a love potion. Chapter 1/2, 7k words. Rated E, of course. Also available on AO3!

⚔️ ⚔️ ⚔️

“Drink up, my friend!”

The jug clunked down onto the sticky tavern table top, quickly followed by Hans collapsing onto the bench opposite Henry. 

“Fine ale,” Hans said, pouring them both a generous serving, “courtesy of yours truly.”

“Why thank you,” Henry said, taking his mug and holding it aloft in a toast. “To yours truly, then.”

He drank deeply. They were on their second jug of the evening, relaxing after a long summer’s day. They’d spent the morning hunting - or at least, they had set out with the intention to hunt, but in truth the vast majority of their time had been spent spitting terrible jokes at each other, mocking one another’s bowmanship and getting into increasingly absurd competitions. 

Henry had bagged most hares, but Hans was the one who had managed to shoot three apples in a row from the branch of a tree. They’d called it a draw, in the end, and retired to the tavern to see off the night.

They were not the only ones enjoying the summer weather. The tavern was full, every seat taken. It had been luck - and Hans shamelessly throwing his weight around - that had bagged them a table to themselves. For once, Henry didn’t feel like arguing.

“How did you manage to find ale so quickly?” he asked. “It’s fucking heaving.”

Hans shrugged. “Need I remind you who I am?” he said. “Ungrateful wretch.”

As Henry put the mug down, he realised there was a man across the way glaring at them. Glaring at Hans, to be precise. 

“Why is that fellow across the way giving you such a sour look?”

“Full of questions today, aren’t we?” Hans said. “What fellow?”

“The one— over there, with the red-haired girl.”

“I have no idea who you could mean.”

“You haven’t even looked!”

“Are you here to drink or are you here to make eyes at some peasant?” Hans said with a sigh. “Honestly, Henry, I’m beginning to assume you don’t even want my company.”

Nothing could have been further from the truth. They were spending, more or less, all of their time together, and each moment of it felt like it would be wasted if it were spent any other way. Henry found himself drawn to Hans in a way he couldn’t explain; like a mountain stream trickling towards a roaring river.

Not that he intended to tell Hans that, of course: his ego was unwieldy enough as it was. Besides, Henry was quite sure Hans already knew, or at least suspected. He says come, and Henry obeys. 

He tried to put the man across the way out of his head. No doubt he was just someone Hans had pissed off: there were enough of those around that Henry had lost count. 

Entirely uninterested, Hans refilled their mugs. And then he paused, sniffing his drink.

“Does this taste… different, to you?”

Henry took another sip. 

“Tastes like ale,” he said, simply.

Hans was undeterred. “No, no,” he said. “It’s—” he frowned thoughtfully. “Tastes a little like mint.”

Knowing that Hans was unlikely to drop the topic, Henry took another drink. This time, he focused, smelling deeply, swilling it around across his tongue before swallowing. To his surprise, Hans was correct; there was a minty tang at the back of his throat.

“Probably put some in to hide the fact that it was going bad,” he said.

“Urgh, you’re probably right. Fucking swine.”

“Want me to get another jug?”

“Fuck that, I’m already sat down. Drink up!”

Henry did. He could certainly get over the minty aftertaste, and the innkeeper wouldn’t have been the first person to keep the stock longer than intended with a handful of whatever herb was freshest. He’d certainly drunk worse, after all, and even the foulest ale was improved by good company.

They had nearly finished off the jug and were bickering over who would be the one to get up and fetch the next, when a  crash from the opposite side of the yard broke them from their debate. Henry spun around in his seat to see the man who had been staring at them being hauled away by a pair of guards, the red-haired woman standing beside them and weeping.

Hans was on his feet in an instant, the picture of a Lord. As two of the guards manhandled the man away, he grabbed the third; Henry immediately recognised him as one of the marshals.

“What in God’s name is going on?” Hans demanded.

The marshal looked furious, and disgusted.

“Horrible, sinful business m’Lord,” he spat with a shake of his head. “Devilish stuff. That bastard’s been slipping some sort of— of potion into that lass’s drink.”

“A potion?” 

Hans was clearly intrigued at the gossip. Henry gave him a nudge where the marshal wouldn’t see, and he fixed the expression back into one of concern. The marshal stepped closer, lowering his voice so only Hans and Henry could hear.

“A love potion,” he scowled. “From what we’ve heard, it imbalances the body, the humours. Inflames them. Does in a few moments what the body itself would do in a few weeks, until— well, m’lords…” he looked briefly abashed, “you know what happens when the body is inflamed, without— without expulsion—” he shook his head once more. “The crux of it, m’lord, is that this nasty little tincture would cause great harm to one who took it, and even greater harm to one who took it and did not then seek a way to release the build-up afterwards. Might even kill them.”

Henry blinked. He was not sure if he had fully understood the marshal’s explanation.

“Sir, so if I have this right,” he said, also keeping his voice low. “This love potion makes you—” he hesitated. He was unkeen to say fuck so boldly. “It makes you want to fornicate? And makes you sick if you don’t?”

“Terribly sick, m’lord, in the body and the brain.”

“God’s teeth…” Henry muttered.

“Indeed. Terrible, terrible crime.”

“And what will you be doing with the perpetrator?” Hans frowned.

“We’ll lock him away for the night,” the marshal said. “Tomorrow we’ll put him before Sir Hanush, and he’ll decide the best punishment for his crimes. And we must seek out the wretch who sold him the potion, too.” He sighed. “Excuse me, m’lords. I must see this done. God go with you.”

“And you,” Henry muttered after him as he followed his men out into the street.

“God’s bollocks,” Hans said once he’d left and he’d taken his seat once more. “What a thing. Awful behaviour, using such potions like that.”

“You’ve used love potions before,” Henry said, eyebrows raised. “Remember the butcher’s daughter?”

“Well, yes,” Hans said, “but I’ve never used one on anyone else, just myself. That was just a little helping hand. There’s no sin in making oneself better. But to force such things upon someone else?” he gripped his mug harder. “I hope that bastard gets what is coming to him. That poor girl.”

“I’m not even convinced the one you used worked,” Henry said. “What was it, the musk of exceptional allure?”

“Infinite allure,” Hans corrected him. “And what do you mean it didn’t work? I bedded her, didn’t I?”

Henry rolled his eyes. “Only after fucking up all that poetry.”

“Well that proves it!” Hans thumped his hand on the table. “If I can woo a woman after fucking up poetry, then it must have been the potion making me - as I said - infinitely alluring.” He took a long drink. “And it was you who fucked up that poetry, if I remember rightly.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, sir.”

“None of that, you cheeky bastard.”

“It does make you wonder how many of these sorts of things are out there, doesn’t it?”

“What, love potions? There’s hundreds, from what I’ve heard. Spells, too.”

“Spells?”

Hans grinned, clearly excited to launch into a story.

“There’s this one— you know, the priests swear it's true, but you never can tell with priests if they’re telling the truth or have just gone too long without seeing a tit.”

“Right?”

“So, so—” Hans grinned, emboldened by the ale and the salacious story. “A woman, she strips herself naked, and covers herself in honey.”

“In—?”

“Shut up. She covers herself in honey, and then rolls about in wheat, and then she takes all of the bits of wheat that stick to her and grind them up and make them into bread. And then she feeds that bread to her husband. And it makes him desperately keen to fuck her.” Hans broke his story, his mug against his lips. “Or… or it kills him. I can’t remember.”

Henry snorted. “That’s a bit of a crucial difference.”

Hans flapped a hand at him. “It all feels like too much work for me,” he said. “Imagine that, getting yourself naked and rolling around in honey - and the cost of all that honey, too - all that mess, for what one could achieve with a tight-fitting bodice. Or a knife,” he added, thoughtfully.

Henry swallowed. The image of Hans covering his naked body in honey was one which he didn't think he would be rid of for a while. He tried to cover the burning feeling in his cheeks - and the twitching in his breeches - with a laugh and another drink.

Soon, the jug really was empty. Henry waved over the innkeeper, who - after spotting Hans at the table - hurried over.

“We saw that business with the guards,” Hans said, as he lingered by their table after bringing them fresh ale. “Awful stuff.”

The innkeeper shuddered. “It really is, sir. I feel awful for not realising what he was up to…”

“Do you know how he did it?” Hans asked.

“Slipped it into the jug,” he said morosely. “Poured it in before taking it to their bench.”

“Good God.”

“Indeed,” the innkeeper agreed, crossing himself. “They found two empty vials on him, too; slipped right out of his bag when they arrested him. The Lord Above only knows what he did with the other one. We can only pray that he had not already used it on someone else.”

He hurried away, back to his business.

“What a mess,” Henry said, reaching for the full jug. “That poor woman.”

Hans was not paying attention. He was staring into his empty mug, frowning.

“Hans?”

No response.

“What is it? Want me to top you—”

“Shut up.”

Henry fell silent. This was not Hans’s typical bravado. Not his usual, blunted bickering.

“What’s wrong?”

“...the ale.”

“What about the ale? Not good enough for the noble Lord Capon?”

Finally, finally Hans looked up. He looked downright panicked.

“I took that jug from that man. The one with the potion. That’s how I got it so quickly. He had it in his hands, and I just took it from him.”

“And? Worried that stealing’s a sin?”

“I am worried,” Hans said, voice pitched, “that he had two empty vials on him, Henry. One for that woman, and one for—” his eyes fell again to his empty mug.

It couldn’t be. It had just been ale. 

“Don’t be foolish. He probably just used the other one on someone else.”

“And got away with it?”

“Well, maybe—”

“Don’t be an idiot, Henry. You said he was glaring at me! That must be why! And you agreed that the ale tasted strange!”

Henry had agreed. It had tasted of mint. 

“Is mint… common in love potions?” he hazarded.

“How the Devil should I know!” Hans said, now very clearly panicking. “How do you feel? Do you feel strange? Different? Do you feel—” even in the low light of the yard, Henry could see his cheeks darken. He didn’t need to finish that sentence.

Henry leaned back on the bench. He felt… warm. He had assumed it was just the lingering heat of the day and the crush of people, but now he was not so sure. His chest and cheeks were flushed. And there had been that moment earlier, when Hans had been drunkenly talking about honey and naked bodies and—

Shit.

He got to his feet. “Let’s go,” he said. “I mean: we should go… somewhere else. Where it’s quieter. It might… help?”

He did not think it would help, in truth, but the crush of other drinkers was growing too much, the sound of their chatter pressing down on him from all sides. Hans followed his lead, and they stumbled out into the street. It was less pressing here, but it did very little to calm Henry’s inflamed nerves. The brush of the gentle breeze over his red-hot skin felt more like a kiss than a salve.

Wordlessly, they hurried away from the busy tavern towards the edge of town before falling gracelessly onto the grass behind a low wall. The grass was damp beneath Henry’s arse, his breeches slowly growing sodden as he sat trying to catch his breath.

He wanted to deny it. He wanted to believe that Hans was being paranoid. They had no proof that they’d drunk the potion.

No proof, that was, aside from the fact that Hans had stolen the jug from a man known to use such tinctures. The fact that Henry’s very skin felt like it were aflame, and that his heart was pounding erratically in his chest. The fact that his cock was twitching in his breeches and - try as he might, even close to possible death - he still couldn’t shake the image of Hans’s honey-covered bare fucking arse.

“What the fuck do we do?” Hans wailed.

“How should I know?” Henry said, leaning back against the wall in the hopes that the cold stone would ease his burning blood. “I’m not a herbalist or a— a witch. We could find the physician?”

“No,” Hans said, far too quickly. “No, then it’ll get out. Everyone will know, and Sir Hanush—” he paused. “I do not want anybody to know about this.”

“We could head to the baths? Find a couple of girls and—”

“What part of not wanting anybody to know about this did you not understand?”

“But a couple of bath wenches won’t need to know anything.”

“And what if it goes wrong? What if something happens? What if this— this thing makes us start babbling and losing our minds? Or what if it doesn’t work at all? What if it—”  his eyes went wide. There was a fine sheen of sweat over his face. “What if it kills us?”

“It won’t kill us.” Henry tried to force himself to sound sure. 

Hans didn’t reply. He stared down at the ground, his leg bouncing as if possessed. Henry thought he knew how Hans felt: it was like there was something burning under his skin, writhing in his belly, sinking low tendrils down.

“We have to do something,” Henry said at last. “What was it the marshal said? That you had to get release. So… easy, right? We return to our rooms and… like he said. Find release.”

Hans gave a long sigh, as if he was talking to an idiot. “You have to get release with another person,” he said. “That’s the point. Why else would you make a love potion for it? There’s no point slipping one into someone’s drink so they go home and frig themselves silly without you there, is there?”

He had a point. Henry understood the basics of the body, the balancing of the humours - and the ills that could befall one when they became unbalanced. But he knew little about the rest of it, the magic and trickery which could twist the mind into seeking out that balance with another person. His slender knowledge of the Satanic arts began and ended with his dalliance with the Uzhitz witches: an experience that he was keen not to repeat. No doubt that same sort of dark magic was involved here, too: some shady practitioner boiling potions over the bones of babies or… something.

“Shit.” He didn’t know what else to say.

Beside him, Hans had gone silent. The only sound was his breathing: deep and laboured and full of heat. Henry was struck with the urge to shuffle closer, to press their shoulders together. To take his hand. To feel his skin.

Sweat pooled in the small of his back.

“Hans—”

“Henry—”

He turned. Hans looked desperate, expression raw. The words suddenly stuck in Henry’s throat. It was Hans who spoke first, his tongue darting to wet his lips, his throat constricting as he swallowed.

“We could…”

Hans’s breath was so hot that Henry could almost see it scorched into the air, words written in smoke between them. Those two words were enough: the rest unspoken but understood.

“Should we go back to your room?” Henry was glad not to say anything more illicit; he wasn’t sure if he could cope with hearing those words from his own mouth any more than he could from Hans’s.

Hans looked a little shocked - eyes widening for a moment - as if he hadn’t expected Henry to agree, or to even understand what he had been implying.

“No,” he said, at last. “Too many guards, too many people. No doubt someone will want to chat if they see us. And what if they hear? What if they find out?”

“Then where?” 

“There’s this old woodcutter’s hut,” Hans said, twisting his hands together, catching glances at Henry from the corner of his eye. “Other side of town. Abandoned. Sometimes I take—” his words were fractured by a harsh laugh. “Sometimes I take girls there. Come on.”

He was on his feet without another word, hauling Henry up beside him. His touch was as hot as forge-warmed iron; Henry half-expected their palms to stick together, melded like metal, as Hans dragged him to his feet. They didn’t. Hans let go, leaving Henry’s grip empty.

Henry tried not to feel jealous as he followed Hans over a low wall and towards the woods. Hans took pretty girls with grabbable arses and bouncing tits to the place he was now leading Henry. Girls he liked, girls he wanted to fuck. It was the first time Henry had allowed himself to think it so boldly - that he and Hans were going to fuck, right here, right now - but the thought came wrapped in bitterness. This wasn’t like those lusty tumbles. This was an emergency, life or death. Hans would not be doing this if he had a choice.

The hut was hidden away at the edge of the wood, far from the prying eyes of the town. In the darkness within, Henry could just about make out a few pieces of furniture: a chair, a chest, a low bed. It must have belonged to the woodcutters once upon a time. He tried not to think about who Hans had brought there before.

Hans closed and locked the door. He turned.

“Henry…”

Henry didn’t know what to do. Now he was here, faced with the inevitability of what was about to happen, he felt suddenly unsure. 

He’d wanted this for an age. But not like this.

But he didn’t have the time for such catastrophizing. He didn’t have the luxury of melancholy when the potion was fizzing in his blood, and in Hans’s blood too. Better to give into it, to let it consume him as it was so desperately trying to. He was far too warm, a furnace roaring low in his core, sending great licks of flame up the hollow chimney of his chest.

He tugged at the collar of his tunic, desperate for air. Hans looked equally troubled, his face coated in sweat. 

“Kurva,” Hans spat. “I’m too fucking hot.” He started to fiddle with the buttons of his gambeson, hands slipping over the fine fabric. “Shit—”

Henry stepped in. Something inherent and deep-rooted in his head took over, now tinged with the sweet flash of the potion. The urge to help. Even though his own hands were trembling too, he made faster work of the buttons than Hans had, but stepped back again when he was finished, the gambeson hanging open to reveal the undershirt beneath.

Hans muttered a brief word of thanks, cheeks scarlet, then slipped the gambeson off. It fell to the floor at his feet. Henry followed suit, tugging off his own tunic with less hesitation, the ties snapping beneath his eager hands. Hans moved closer, reaching out - a tentative, nervous touch.

His hand against Henry’s chest, even with Henry’s linen shirt between their skin, felt altogether like too much, but not enough. The uncertainty dissolved. He tugged Hans closer, grabbing him, sliding his hands beneath his undershirt. Hans moved with equal fervour, ripping at his clothes - undershirt, hose, braies - in a haze much like being drunk, until they were both bare, clinging onto each other in the centre of the tiny room.

Still it felt like it wasn’t enough. Henry’s skin was blazing, his heart thundering, his now-freed cock desperate and hard against Hans’s leg. He could feel Hans’s prick, too, equally keen. He moved his hands up and down Hans’s back, over his arms.

It wasn’t enough.

Hans made an impatient, stuttering noise and pushed him down onto the bed. It shuddered beneath them as they crashed onto it, the wood splintering. They twisted around, finding room, legs and arms tangling. Henry rolled them over, pinning Hans beneath him, a leg pressed between his thighs.

Hans looked so open beneath him, so vulnerable. He looked sad, too: a little lost, like there was something locked away behind those eyes. His skin shimmered with sweat, lashes thick with it. He opened his mouth as if to speak, his teeth grazing his lower lip, and God above, Henry yearned for nothing more than to catch those lips under his own, to feel Hans’s breath against his mouth, to inhale him.

But he couldn’t. He knew he couldn't. A kiss was too precious, too open. His lips could betray him without a single word passing between them. They were there for a purpose beyond desire, and Henry couldn’t allow his muddled feelings for Lord Capon to put either of them at risk.

Hans made a little noise, and Henry wrenched his gaze from his lips to his eyes. That look was still there, that sadness that Henry couldn’t place. 

“Hans—”

“You should—” for a moment, Hans sounded like Sir Hans Capon, young Lord of Perkstein. And then it was gone, the commanding tone lost as soon as it came. “Fuck it, Henry, kiss me?”

Henry didn’t even think. Hans didn’t need to order him about like a lord for him to obey that direction. He cupped Hans’s jaw - something that Hans hadn’t expected, judging by the way his breath stuttered - and pressed their lips together.

It shouldn’t have felt so good. It shouldn’t have felt like light, like holy light pouring into Henry’s body through Hans’s mouth. He didn’t know how he was supposed to kiss anyone else again after this. No one could compare. He’d ruined himself through the simple act of pressing his lips against Hans’s, lost forever.

A low noise purred from Hans’s throat as Henry pushed him down. He bucked his hips upwards, pressing his erect cock into Henry’s thigh. Henry ground down against him, opening his lips, teasing Hans’s mouth open with his own. Hans hissed beneath him, their breath mingling, then grabbed Henry tighter and slid his tongue into his mouth.

Fuck. Henry mirrored the movement, desperate for more. Hans’s lips were soft and wet, and every time he moved Hans made a warm little hum, the sound shooting through Henry like an arrow.

He drifted away from Hans’s lips and across his jaw, into the sensitive hollow of his neck. He left a kiss there, but once again it was not enough. He opened his lips, dragging his teeth against Hans’s skin.

He drank Hans in, trying to commit him to memory; his warmth, the sound of his breath, the hot salt-sweat taste of his skin beneath Henry’s tongue. Perhaps it was wrong to do so, perhaps he was taking something from his lord, but reason had abandoned him. All that was left was Hans, and the certain knowledge that this would never happen again.

The potion - and his own desire - was reaching a messy, painful peak. Henry’s very skin ached with need, his cock throbbing where it was pinned against Hans’s thigh. This had to be the potion wringing him out, writhing through his blood. He had never known lust like this before. Beneath him, Hans too seemed to be struggling; wriggling open-mouthed and slick-skinned.

Enough. Henry let his desire guide him, the rest of his mind shut off. He didn’t need thought, nor logic and reason: just this. He edged down Hans’s body, lips apart, taking in the intoxicating taste of him until Hans’s cock nudged against his chin. Would this work? Would this be enough? He didn’t know, but every fibre of his being was urging it, and he could hardly resist now he was so close.

“Hans?” he had to ask, although each second wasted was a second of ruin. “Can— Do you—”

“Fuck, Henry,” Hans hissed, “Do it.”

Henry did as he bid. He had never sucked a cock before, and in truth had only had the act performed upon himself a scant handful of times, but as he wrapped his lips around the shaft of Hans’s prick, instinct took over. As his open mouth grazed the sensitive skin, Hans bucked beneath him, swearing colourfully into the hot air. Emboldened, Henry moved with more confidence, lathing his tongue up his hot, hard length then taking the tip into his mouth, squeezing with hips lips, rolling his tongue over the already slick head. Hans swore again - a string of swears, folded into Henry’s name - jerking up with such force that Henry had to grip onto his hips to hold him down lest he choke him.

He moved faster, surer, gripping the base of Hans’s cock in one hand whilst working him with his mouth. Hans’s swearing petered out into little stuttering gasps, needy little moans, building breaths. He was close, Henry could tell - and as inexpert as he was he released him from the hot wetness of his mouth to focus on the attentions of his hands, tools which he was far more certain of.

Hans made a noise - was that a groan, or Henry’s name? He made it again, and this time Henry knew there was nothing else it could have been.

“Henry—”

A single word, full of heat, full of want. Henry didn’t think, just heaved himself back up, meeting Hans’s lips, pouring himself into the kiss as he stroked Hans’s cock. Hans gasped into his mouth and then - at last - spent across his stomach in desperate, breathless bursts.

Henry barely had time to think before Hans was scrabbling at him, rolling him over, running his hands down his body.

“Hans, wait—”

“No time,” Hans muttered, lips pressed deliciously close to Henry’s skin. “Now you, Hal, here—”

Still sticky with sweat and spend, Hans twisted them around on the tiny bed, urgently reaching between them. His fingertips skimmed over Henry’s stomach, brushed across the hair trailing from below his navel to his cock. Even that faltering touch was too much, making Henry’s nerves sing and shudder. Hans’s body seemed to be thrumming with energy, his fondling erratic. No wonder: he had just spent himself, and only God knew what the love potion was doing within him.

He hissed through his teeth when Hans finally wrapped his lithe fingers around him, the air sucked from his lungs. He arched back, and Hans placed a warm kiss to his neck, sucking at his skin.

“Fuck, Henry—” his voice was strained. “You’re so— I—”

Henry barely heard whatever else Hans was saying. He couldn’t hear him over the rushing of his heartbeat in his ears or his own, gasping breaths as Hans worked him, jerking his cock, smothering him in kisses. Henry grabbed him back, pawing at his back, digging his nails into Hans’s soft flesh.

Fuck. All there was, was Hans. Hans’s body, his lips, his mouth. His tongue. His hand wrapped around Henry’s prick, his fingers slipping messily up and down his shaft. Henry could feel his pleasure peaking, the hot rush building. He took another, huge gasp, then another, ghosting his breath over Hans’s mouth.

He came in waves, unstoppable and inevitable as the tides, as the moon, as the act of breathing. White spots burst across his vision, even with his eyes tight shut. He breathed through it, letting it wrack through him until he was spent.

He roused slowly, dragging his eyes open. Hans was staring at him, eyes wide, sweat glistening on his forehead and chest. Henry’s heart was still pounding, his lungs still squeezing, but with the relief of release he no longer felt as harried and desperate as he had before. Had it worked? Had they shaken off the effect of the potion? Had it been enough?

“Hans—” the word was shaky and uncertain. He took another breath, trying to calm his frantic heart. “Are you— do you feel alright?”

Hans too looked exhausted, eyes blinking sluggishly. He nodded, lips twitching.

Henry sighed, rolling onto his back as best he could in the tiny bed, pulling out of Hans’s grip. He tilted his head so he could still peer at him. He wanted to rest, to bask in this feeling, but they could not: this was not a lovers tryst, he forced himself to remember. This had been panic. They had done what they needed to do.

“Should we go back?” 

Hans swallowed. 

“Frankly…” Hans shuffled on the ruined sheets, “Frankly, I’m fucking exhausted. I don’t particularly wish to go anywhere.”

Henry bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. “Aye,” he said. “Me too.”

He took a deep breath, feeling more like himself at last. The tiny room was hot, the air near-dripping with the smell of sweat and sex. 

“Henry—”

Hans looked nervous. “What is it?” Henry said, turning back around to better see him.

“What if it wasn’t enough?”

It felt like it had been enough. But, Henry supposed, he had never taken a love potion before. He had no idea how this worked.

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted. “Do you still feel it?”

Hans watched him with an unreadable expression. His eyes darted back and forth, catching Henry’s face, his lips, his body. Henry could almost feel every place his gaze landed.

“I think so,” he said, after a long moment. “I feel—” his gaze drifted again. He shut his eyes. “I feel something.”

Henry recognised the fear in him, the anxiety of losing himself, in more ways than one. They’d battled side by side enough times: this was no different, not at its core. The fear of ruination, of losing one’s life. He reached out, but as he placed his hand on Hans’s bare shoulder, he jumped, twisting it away.

“Sorry—”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

They spoke over one another, both fumbling into silence. It was Hans who broke it, as always.

“You took me by surprise. Sorry.”

Henry tucked his hand back between them, keeping a careful distance between their bodies. The few inches - barely even that - felt like a sudden cavern, after what they had just done. But perhaps that was right. That was how it was supposed to be, after all.

“So… should we stay here?” Henry asked, carefully. “If you’re worried…?”

“Probably for the best. Just in case.”

Henry nodded. Something new and strange was tingling between them. Perhaps, in the mornings, things would be easier. 

“Are there any fucking blankets in here?”

Hans nodded, although there was still a sort of uncertainty in his face. He rose from the bed, leaving Henry feeling suddenly exposed and alone, and began to rifle through the chest on the other side of the tiny room. Henry tugged his braies back on, ripping off a scrap from the bottom of his undershirt to clean himself up. When Hans returned, a thick blanket in his arms, Henry passed it to him, too. 

He stared at it for a moment before swiftly seeing off the spend drying across his stomach.

He tossed the rag on the floor and the blanket at Henry before coming to sit beside him on the bed. It truly was a tiny cot - barely room for one grown man, let alone two - but somehow they managed, slotting beside each other. Any attempts to leave some space between their bodies were abandoned, the tiny space and growing chill in the air making it impossible.

Henry pressed against the damp wall of the cabin and felt Hans settle behind him. 

“Wake me if you… if you need me,” he muttered. From beyond his shoulder, Hans made a soft sound of assent.

It was some time later, Henry right on the edge of sleep, when he felt Hans wrap his arm around his middle and bury his head between Henry’s shoulder blades.

***

They were woken early, the bright, dawn light charging in through the shutterless window of the hut. Henry groaned, for a moment forgetting where he was, too warm and comfortable and content to move. 

Then he remembered. The heavy weight around his waist was still there, Hans’s feet twisted between his own, their bodies pressed stickily together. He could feel Hans’s breaths coming against Henry’s skin in long, sleepy snores.

They had survived the night. The potion had run its course, and they were still alive. 

After a while, Hans made a gasping, snortling noise, then groaned as he, too, woke.

“My fucking head… Henry?”

“Still here, my Lord.”

“Don’t fucking—” he groaned again. Henry felt him press his forehead against Henry’s back. “Don’t call me that. Peasant.”

Henry rolled over with a laugh, dislodging a grumbling Hans. “It worked,” he said, simply.

Hans stared at him. He looked disheveled, bags under his eyes. 

“It did.” And then it seemed to dawn on him, like a great wave. “It did! Fuck, Henry, we’re— we’re alright!”

“We’re always alright,” Henry grinned.

They rose swiftly, quickly tidying the hut to make it appear unused and pulling yesterday’s clothes back on. Henry picked at his torn undershirt: he would have to find a new one. 

Looking as presentable as they ever would, they headed back through the woods and towards the town. This early, barely anyone else was awake, and those who were were too busy beginning their own days to pay them any mind. The morning was new, and the day was stretched out in front of them. Henry found himself walking with a renewed vigour in his step: he could have died. He had not. And Hans was at his side, as jovial and cocky as ever.

Nothing had changed between them. The quietest part of his mind wished it had - wished that there could have been a new shade to their relationship. But the rest was just pleased that Hans was still with him, still his friend, even after all that had passed between them.

As they made their way across the town square, Henry spotted a familiar figure walking towards them: the marshal. Hans shot Henry a look.

“Let’s find out what happened to our friend, shall we?”

Hans flagged the marshal down, jogging towards him.

“God greet you, my Lord,” the marshal said as he approached.

“And you, sir,” Hans said. “How fares your prisoner? Did you find the man who sold him the potions?”

The marshal gave a long, beleaguered sigh. “That we did,” he said, “but I wish it were so simple.”

“Oh?”

“Turns out the potion was a fake.”

The floor had fallen away from beneath Henry’s feet. He had to focus not to slip and fall. 

“What?” Hans’s voice was dry and cracked. “He was— it was a fake?”

“Aye,” the Marshal confirmed. “We suspected something was amiss when we were seeing to the young lady. Left her with some of the girls in the keep, and once we’d gotten her calmed down she was perfectly fine. No strange symptoms at all, just a little shaken.”

“She didn’t feel anything at all?” Henry asked.

The guard gave Henry a searching look. “Not at all. So we asked that bastard where he’d gotten the potion from, and he told us he’d bought it from some wretch in the fields a mile or so away. We sent some men to get him, and turns out the man’s a charlatan! A thief and a bastard he may be, but he’s not a witch. They knocked down his door and he told them everything: his potions are nothing more than water, herbs, and nettle dye. They searched his hut and it seemed like he was telling the truth.”

How could that be? Henry had felt the effects of the potion within moments of him finishing the drink. He could still feel it in his blood, the steam left after a boil. The heat of it, the energy. He had been compelled like he never had before. How could that have been fake? 

The brew was supposed to elicit feelings where there were none. It was supposed to twist the humours to make one act. But it hadn’t. That hadn’t been his humours, his bile, his changeable insides.

It had been him. Just him. And—

He turned. Hans’s mouth was a tight, hard line. 

“I must go.”

“Hans—”

Hans ignored him. “Sir.”

He nodded towards the marshal and strode away without so much as glancing at Henry. Henry made his farewells and hurried after him, Leaving the confused marshal in his wake.

“Hans! Hans, wait—” Hans did not slow. Henry caught up with him and grabbed his arm. “Hans, for fuck’s—”

Hans twisted around. “Do not touch me.”

“What?”

“I said let me go!” He pulled his arm out of Henry's grip. “Let—” he took a breath, like he was suddenly winded. He folded into himself. It put Henry in mind of a sheet on a washing line, stilled in a breeze. “Let me go, Henry.”

He was wearing the expression that had been on his face last night: fear, panic. It was like he was playing at being angry. His tone was clipped but his eyes; those were sad.

Henry took a step back. Hans gave him a last look - misery and venom - then strode away.

***

The sun had set by the time Henry left the forge and returned inside. He’d found his way there around midmorning, having finished anything he could usefully do around the keep and feeling distinctly aware that Hans would refuse to speak to him should he search him out. The heat and rhythm of the repetitive work helped keep him calm, keep him distracted. With the red-hot metal beneath his gloved hands there was little room to let his mind wander.

He couldn’t think about what had passed between him and Hans when he was too busy making sure he didn’t get a nasty burn. Even if the heat of the fire made him think of the heat of Hans’s skin, if the fizz and splash of the water conjured images in his mind of sweat and spend. Even if the heavy hammering of iron put him in mind of a much different sort of blow.

He poured himself into the work, forcing the thoughts away. His eyes stung when he was finished, the fire of the forge blindingly bright against the darkness outside. His arms were covered in tiny burn marks.

He hadn’t even noticed.

His limbs were feeling leaden and heavy as he entered the hall. Sir Radzig looked up as he entered, waving him over.

“Henry, my boy, how are you?”

Henry sat beside his father, gratefully taking the cup of wine he offered him.

“Well as can be,” he said, vaguely. 

Sir Radzig, thank God, didn’t press the matter. Henry didn’t know what he would have said if he had demanded to know what was troubling him. He sipped at his wine, trying not to focus on the empty chair where Hans usually sat.

“There you are!” Henry turned to see Sir Hanush in the doorway. “I’ve been looking for you, lad.”

Henry rose to his feet automatically. “How can I assist, Sir Hanush?”

Hanush grabbed the wine jug and gestured carelessly for Henry to sit back down.

“I appear to have lost my nephew,” he said. “Hans has been holed up in his chambers all day. Refuses to come out, if he’s even in there. No one’s seen hide nor hair of him. Wondered if you had.”

The last time Henry had seen Hans had been early that morning when he had walked away from him, leaving him alone and baffled in the middle of the road. He had assumed he’d returned to the keep and distracted himself in his usual ways - wine and women. It was unsettling to hear he’d been wrong.

“I haven’t,” Henry said, “not since this morning.”

Hanush shook his head. “Look, could you do me a favour? Go up there and try to work out what he’s so bloody worked up about. He trusts you.”

Henry wasn’t so sure that was true anymore. He didn’t even know if Hans even liked him after what had passed between them. But he needed to talk to him. He’d have gone to find him even if Hanush hadn’t asked him to.

Maybe it would all be alright. He’d grab a plate of tarts from the kitchens, the biggest jug of wine he could find, and go up to Hans’s chambers. They’d talk. They’d work it out.

They had to. 

He rose from his seat. “I’ll see what I can do.”

[glazedcroissant]

Been thinking about Galacta knight and his use of fire. I've actually got a few headcannons about it if you want to have a read!:

So! I've actually got a whole system worked out for how I think magic in the Kirby universe might work, but let's just look at this goof first. *puts him under a magnifying glass*

To start, every mage has their own unique form of Energy magic. It's essentially their "default" manifestation of mana; the caster's most natural state of magic. It is generally seen as the safest type of magic to use, easily channeled through the body and moldable enough to use in a wide range of spells. As a bonus, its drawbacks are small, requiring a mage to burn through nearly all their mana reserves before they'd have to deal with any advirse effects. Galacta knight uses this type of magic for things like his energy swords and abusing the laws of nature by using his own mana as an ill advised substitute for sleep.

Some find their Energy magic limiting on its own, prompting research into other forms of magic to tie into their spells, such as elemental magic.

Fire magic, like all elemental magic, can be quite costly against its user if not used with caution. Every use raises the caster's body temperature, leading to sweating and eventual coughing. Abuse of the element will envitably cause minor to severe burns at channeling sights, depending on one's tolerance and overuse. It is important to time attacks and casts far enough apart from each other to allow the body time to cool down again. Some learn counter elemental spells to cut down on this recovery time—such as water or ice magic to counter fire—but such rapid heating and cooling is dangerous and harmful to the body.

Galacta knight is an incredible fire mage, having a natural aptitude for it, given his affinity. The vast majority of magic users are born, or soon develop, an affinity to a specific kind of magic. They're brought into the world with an innate understanding of that type, though it may take some time before they realize what it is. Galacta knight's being fire gives him a better tolerance to its effects than most. Even so, he is not immune, and manifesting blisteringly hot flames within one's core is, generally, unrecommended (nevermind setting your whole body alight in a blaze of glory). It's typical to see mage's using weapons or heatproof gloves as their channeling sights to help prevent self-inflicted burns, and Galacta will typically use his lance or shield for this. However, spells can often be charged and fired off faster and more powerfully when expelled through the body alone. That, and breathing fire looks cool as hell. Galacta figures a parched throat and dry eyes for a couple hours is worth the payoff. He's tried the whole counter element deal to cool off faster, but Water magic doesn't mesh well with him. He lacks the the serenity and steady flow at his core to understand it.

Also! As a fun little addition. If you're wondering why I ting his fire pink, it's because that's the color of his natural Energy magic. Elemental magic is still dependent on the user's own mana pool, with it's appearance changing from mage to mage depending on the individual's natural magic properties.

This is just my own thoughts I've scraped together into the doughy mixing bowl of my brain, of course. And, like dough, these thoughts are subject to change and grow later on. I've got some thoughts on the ins and out of How elemental magic, and the other types, are cast in terms of the technical (l say loosely cause it's literally magic) aspects of them, but I don't have all those details ironed out yet. My mind is a fickle thing, never wanting to settle on one headcannon or another. It's part of the reason I hesitate to write and draw longer character scenes and interactions, my opinions of them constantly shifting. But! I do think I'm getting to the point where I can keep them somewhat consistent in my head. Thus, my little fire magic spiel.

[ravens-two]

PAC: How will your relationship with your FS be like?

This reading includes:

insights into your relationship with your FS

The extended reading includes:

your sex life with your future spouse

how you'll meet your future spouse

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone. Also, this content is 18+ only!

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Page of Swords, Seven of Pentacles, Two of Wands

I was just the chip on your tooth/ And I liked being that/ I was just the me to your you/ And I liked being that - Curl up & Die by Matt Maltese

Pile 1, your relationship with your spouse is filled with devotion as we can see from your song, but also filled with excitement. You and your FS are always on your way to do something, to try something, to pursue something. Immediately I can see that you and your FS always support each other when it comes to your goals. Your person always does their best to make your life a little easier so that you can pursue some goal or project. They don't feel jealous or hold resentment, in fact, they want to be your biggest supporters.

I also think that you'll be traveling a lot as a couple, both on vacation and also probably because of work. I get the sense that you're both very ambitious people so you might have a career that requires traveling from time to time. The other thing I'm seeing is that the communication between you two is just excellent. I get the vibe that you talk a lot in general (or actually one of you might talk a lot and the other not as much, but the other loves listening). You have long conversations about everything and nothing, the last movie you watched together, the neighbor who just moved across the street, your takes on spirituality, or the current state of the world. The point here is that you two talk a lot and for a long time just because you enjoy each other's company.

Another thing about your communication is that you rarely fight because you can talk and resolve your problems before a fight can arise. Even just simple communication like organizing your life and things like that (like let's meet at x place at y hour) works very well. Also, you're both very good with helping your partner come up with a solution for a problem (I feel like your partner immediately jumps to this whenever you're down or having some sort of problem). Sometimes it might not be appreciated but your FS just loves you so much and they don't want you to have to struggle with anything really.

When it comes to your life as a couple I think that you have a set routine that you always follow, while holding space for surprises to emerge. Let me try to come up with an example. For example, you might have the habit of going out every Saturday afternoon and always keep that time free for this, but you don't often plan what you'll do. It's just the spontaneous thing that came up that week. But besides this I see you having a very cozy routine and doing mundane tasks together, like cleaning the house or tending your garden. It's the little things that bring you together. In fact, I want to say that one of the most important love languages in this relationship is actually quality time. You might not be doing the same thing but you like doing them in the same space so that you can feel close to each other.

With this Two of Wands here I also have to say that this is a very passionate relationship, especially coming from your FS. They adore touching and kissing you, the type of partner who will smack your ass every time you cross paths, for example. You two just really enjoy touching and cuddling a lot. It might not even be full on cuddling, but you love just laying on the couch and just hold hands, or play with the other's hair or their leg or their foot. It's not even anything sexual about this (although it is sometimes), but you both just feel the need to touch the other.

check out the extended reading here

Pile 2

Eight of Cups, Three of Pentacles, Five of Wands

Feels like I've known you my whole life/ I can see right through your lies/ I don't know where we're goin'/ But I'd like to be by your side - Are You Bored Yet? by Wallows ft. Clairo

Pile 2, for some reason I think that you might work with your FS or if you don't work with them, it might be that you have the same job because you end up competing a lot with each other. This is something more specific just for some people so feel free to ignore if you feel like it doesn't apply. However, this energy of competition and playfulness is very present in your relationship with your partner. I get the vibe that you both love to lie to each other for fun, lol. Maybe things like they ask you where you've been and you say that you were with your lover or something like that. You're both just so secure in your relationship that you don't have any problems with joking about these things. Also, going back to the competition energy, I feel like this applies to when you're playing together (like playstation or boardgames), but also even the simplest of situations. Like your partner will try to rile you up because yesterday they did the dishes faster than you, or something silly like that.

A bit similar to pile 1, your relationship with your spouse is marked by how supportive you two are of each other. You act as a team and you don't let problems or other people get in between you two. With the Eight of Cups here too, there's almost this sense that you two are an island away from everyone else. You don't need anything but each other and you'll always stand up for each other. I'm sensing that when it comes to any family conflicts (with your parents or your in-laws or anything like that) you and your person will always stick up for each other even if you're the ones wrong in this situation. You might compete with each other, you might act silly, but in this relationship you're the most important thing for your partner. You always come first, no matter what.

In pile 1 I didn't really see anything about family, but in yours I do see children (feel free to ignore if you feel like this doesn't apply to you). But if you do want to have children in the future, there's three kids here in the cards, they seem quite close in age so it seems very planned. The kids seem to be a big part of your life (obviously) and you and your partner tackled them together as a united front. You don't undermine each other and you agree on the important things - like the type of values and education you want to give your children. As parents I also see you two being very fun with the children and trying to give them as much unique experiences as possible. They certainly adore you both.

When it comes to routine you seem to organize things well in advance and try to split household chores efficiently. I get the vibe that you two are a bit peculiar about your space so you try to keep it clean and organized as much as possible. I also see your partner surprising you with small gifts every once in a while - like little trinkets or a flower bouquet. No matter what it is it's just because your partner so that thing and suddenly thought of you. I think that your partner tries to be as romantic as possible, but sometimes daily life doesn't make it very easy (you two seem to be very busy people).

Despite this you two always make an effort to have a couple of dates every month, a moment you can have just for the two of you and to nurture the love you have for each other. For your partner in particular, I think that romance is very important. They don't seem to be very touchy, especially in front of other people, but they do enjoy putting their hand on your waist or your back. I think that your partner prefers to give you small (or big) gifts and to do things for you. Daily life can be so busy and exhausting that your FS knows that one of the best things they can do for you is make sure that you don't have to do some extra task.

check out the extended reading here

Pile 3

Knight of Swords, Page of Pentacles, Strength

You come back, I'll be right here/ Like a barge at sea/ In the storm, I stay clear/ 'Cause I've got my mind on you - Say Yes to Heaven by Lana del Rey

Pile 3 the first thing that I'm picking up is that your FS is a romantic at heart, think those old Hollywood movies gentleman type. Your spouse is absolutely and completely devoted to you. They adore you and don't want you to worry about a single thing; if a problem comes up they try their best to solve it before it even reaches your ears. To them you're a goddamn work of art. To your spouse they might as well display you on the Louvre because you deserve to be admired.

I'm also getting this vibe that you're a bit stubborn and tend to try and get your way in most things. Your FS knows this and they know that fighting you is useless because you'll always win, so instead they understand that they need to either agree or steer you gently in the "right" direction. I don't really see arguing in this relationship, especially from your person's side. You're far too precious to them for them to be arguing and screaming. Absolutely not. Any issues need to be solved in a civil and productive way.

Something else that I'm picking up is that you tend to withdraw, either when you feel down/after a conflict or you have periods of withdrawal. Your FS may feel a little sad and desperately want you to talk to them, but they understand that you need this space so they're really good at providing it for you. It's literally like your song says when you come back they'll be right there waiting for you with open arms. The main thing I'm getting honestly is that your person wants to be your rock.

If you like animals I think that you might have a lot of pets, especially cats and dogs, but I'm even seeing other types of animals like lizards, bunnies or even horses (this will certainly apply differently to everyone). You and your partner love your pets very much and they're an important part of your life, even if you have kids, the pets are still really important. If you have dogs for example, I see you two taking a long walk every Sunday and just spend time in nature with your spouse, the dogs and the kids. You're both very doting both on the pets and the kids and they are a very important part of your life and your routine. You like doing things in family and you don't feel like the kids or the pets are intruding in your relationship as a couple.

For some of you, I think that either you or your partner either works from home or stays at home. There's just this big emphasis on the home and how it's a cozy space for you, I just heard that it's your nest. When it comes to children I don't really feel like you want to have a lot of kids, maybe one or two. What you do want is to be a good parent. Like, you'd rather not have kids at all or have only one child rather than being a bad parent. You're certainly only going to have kids when you both feel like you're ready for it.

check out the extended reading here

Pile 4

The Fool, Three of Swords, Nine of Pentacles

I don't need a sign, what will, be will be/ Let's go start a life, somewhere in the weeds/ I am usually able, but your effect is fatal/ I was doing fine, then I met you - Intolewd by Matt Maltese

Pile 4, the first thing I'm seeing is that a lot of people will be jealous of your marriage. It might be because your relationship with your partner seems to be in a perpetual honeymoon phase, it might be because your partner is so good looking or because your partner makes a lot of money. Whatever it is people are very jealous of it, because they look at it and it's the type of thing they dream about. With that in mind, I think that you and your partner live quite a lavish and comfortable life. You take nice vacations, you go out, you can buy nice things, and you have a really nice home. The specific vibe I'm getting is of a very stylish and artistic house, but that might be a vibe for just some of you. The main takeaway is that you live well because both you and your partner work for it.

Despite all these eyes on you, you and your partner don't really care about any of that. You have eyes for each other and that's that. Sure, you like showing each other off and you might get off on other's jealousy a little bit, but at the end of the day you're both very aware that the relationship is between the two of you and no one else.

Your FS has a really big energy. They seem like the type of person that immediately gets everyone's attention because they're high-energy, they talk loudly, they laugh a lot. I actually think that one of the first things that attracted you to your FS was their sense of humor, the fact that they just made you laugh and laugh and laugh. Even when things are at their worst you know that your partner will just come up with the most out there joke that instantly breaks the tension and allows you to think about things a little more calmly.

Ohh, actually, the vibe that just came to me was a bit of Gomez Addams from the Addams family in the sense that your FS does everything he can to make you happy. He would fight against a thousand enemies to make you laugh. Your partner absolutely adores you laughter, by the way. In your free time I think that you love going out to museums or historical places. You both seem to love learning and have a great appreciation for art, architecture and culture. I get the feeling that your partner might be an artist or work in the arts.

I think that your FS is also a little prone to having "bouts of melancholy" as they might humorously put it. They just have days where they're moping around the house, sighing into corners and being afflicted by the human condition. They just need a little bit of patience and understanding when this happens. Afterwards, they go back to being their joyous self. If you do have kids I think that your FS is absolutely the funny parent, like strict but very funny. They treat the kids like they're adults explaining overcomplicated concepts to them without missing a beat. In general though, I don't think that you'll treat your kids in the conventional way. In your view they're little people that don't know anything about the world yet, and you both focus on their education and knowledge most of all.

check out the extended reading here

[mitigatedchaos]

There is presently a difference in the distribution of personality types between the right and left coalitions.

Self-identified progressives tend to be very social, and very focused on social consensus and enforcing social rules. Despite using rhetoric like "systemic racism," they don't tend to think in terms of systems, mechanics, or high-order effects, and tend to compartmentalize ideas rather than combining them together.

This results in a gap between how threatening progressives perceive their rhetoric to be, and how threatening other people perceive progressive rhetoric to be.

To take an example, the New York Times, the most prominent Democrat-aligned outlet, and essentially the leading voice in the Democratic coalition, called for a "racial reckoning."

To progressives, this just means "be nice to minorities."

To non-progressive liberals, this might mean "implement a slate of programs that will close group outcome gaps." Such liberals generally are not aware that this slate does not exist - the Democratic constellation has aggressively implied that it does, and that Republicans are the reason that it hasn't been implemented, but all of them just assume that someone else in the Democratic coalition has this slate. If you go looking for it, you won't find it.

To a conservative or right-winger, what the Hell is a "racial reckoning"?

It can't be "being nice to minorities," because we already do that.

It can't be "solve the group outcome gaps," because we don't currently know how to do that.

Therefore, to the right-wingers, it's some weird, undefined, threatening thing. And like... "we need a racial reckoning" - a racial reckoning? That's a really weird thing to say by 2010 norms.

Right-wingers tend to take a really negative response to this kind of rhetoric, and progressives view that as "hostility from nowhere." After all, from their perspective, they just said "be nice to minorities."

If that were the only incident that happened, then we wouldn't be seeing this level of response from the right.

Progressives say all sorts of weird things that are socially acceptable in their own spaces, but weird to outsiders. Since they round off all of these statements to "be nice to minorities" (or similar), however, the idea that someone would connect all of these weird things they say together (which is what right-wingers have been doing) comes off as schizophrenic to them.

For example, progressives want to censor "hate speech." It's easy to see, in isolation, how this might be interpreted as "be nice to minorities."

However, if progressives are also supporting "race conscious" policy, like racial healthcare rationing, or racial farm aid, then speaking against those policies would be classified as "hate speech."

For a right-winger, these are just "two things that progressives are doing." When progressives win, these are just things that they do. There is no reason to view them as existing in isolation.

...but, taken together, this means combining "corrective" discrimination with a prohibition on addressing "corrective" discrimination through conventional small-d democratic methods, such as publicly organizing to vote against it.

The right-winger sees a totalitarian, discriminatory movement.

The progressive says, "I just said 'be nice to minorities' twice - why are they acting like this?"

The really bizarre thing about the current turn in American politics is that like. Nothing is wrong! I mean there are problems. But a normal level of problems. It's not like crime is rising, or the economy is going down the toilet, or anything like that, and the populace is freaking out as a result. Instead it's just like. Spontaneously self destructing. Pure ideology

[thegreatmammonn]

Them as Your Significant Other

om!bros x gn!reader

lucifer, mammon, leviathan

All of these will be both here and on my Tiktok! While it's not the exact same, it's much more wordy than tiktok. i have more room here, lol. please enjoy!

@thegreatmammonn

Lucifer

- he's certainly very put together in your relationship. He knows he's busy; often with paperwork, meetings, or having to discipline his brothers every now and then. Even so, he tries his very best to make time for you, not caring if he's under pressure, stressed out, or sore.

- it's no doubt that due to his busy work, romanic dates, where it's just the two of you, are a scarce element of your relationship. it's not that he hates them, don't get him wrong, he'd love to spend time with you! it's just that he's extremely busy. but when the time does come for a date, you know you'll have a great time when he texts you to get ready on a Saturday evening.

- when it comes to cuddles, he believed it was a silly concept. little did he know, he'd end up loving them when he got closer to you. he'd never cuddle during the day, only at night where he can have you all to himself. he knows his brothers are either asleep or they wont come out their rooms for the remainder of the night, so he can cuddle you uninterrupted. he loves holding you close to him, your head resting on his chest. you can hear his heart beating as you ramble about your day to him. <3

- he loves calling you names such as 'Dearest' or 'My Love.' he wants you to know how much you mean to him, even if it's just something as simple as him calling your name.

- when you give him gifts, he's very grateful. he may act a bit nonchalant towards them, trying to keep is stoic exterior; in reality, he's beyond happy with what you gifted him! The simplest letter he'll read over a thousand times, and the most pointless item will sit on his desk, anyone who dared touch it (except you ofc <3) would have to face him directly. he has a drawer EXCLUSIVELY for the gifts you give to him!

- his love language is words of affirmation. he loves whispering sweet nothings into your ear from time to time or complimenting how beautiful/handsome his beloved is that morning. <3

Mammon

- if there's one thing about Mammon, it's that he'll no doubt try to make the relationship between the two of you as fun as he possibly can. he tries his very best to understand you better than anyone because "he's your first everything." he always knows if you're upset because for some reason he's developed an 8th sense specifically for you. he hates seeing you upset and always wants a smile on your face.

- dates are every week or every other week. where does he get the money? don't ask him that; you know you won't get an answer out of it. he loves taking you to new and fun places where the two of you can run wild. carnivals, amusement parks, water parks, anywhere he can get his hands on tickets for the two of you, he'll most definitely take you.

- he doesn't really call you nicknames. every so often he'll call you "mine." but that's really it. but when he does, he'll call you 'Baby,' 'Babe,' or any other nickname he knows will make you cringe. he loves bothering you.

- cuddles? yes. kisses? definitely. he's very clingy towards you, especially when you're around other demons or men in general. he's always holding your hand, next to you, or when in private, cuddling you like his life depends on it. he loves cuddling you from behind, wrapping his arms around you. on some days, he loves when you spoon him and play in his hair. <3 he's always constantly reminding you that you belong to him and him only.

- this man LOVES when he gets gifts, that's not a shock to anyone. but when it's from you.. he's a whole other demon. he'll pretend like he doesn't care (to keep his 'tough guy' persona up) but on the inside he's squealing and jumping up and down like a teenage girl. he'd always try to get you something in return, even if it wasn't the most expensive thing. the things you give, to him, are more valuable than any amount of money.

- his love languages are physical touch and acts of service. he's always around you, constantly showing you affection. this man would fly to the ends of the Devildom just to see you. he loves you more than you can imagine. <3

Leviathan

- although the two of you made it official you'd be in a relationship, Levi still cannot wrap his head around the concept. I mean, him: a totally lame, shut-in-Otaku, dating you, the most beautiful being he'd ever seen in his many years of living. he's still really awkward and feels like he doesn't deserve someone as amazing as you! while he is awkward in the first stages, he tries his best to make sure you're comfortable and having fun.

- now that he has a romantic partner, he has someone to go on dates with! of course, he thinks everything he's into is too 'nerdy' for someone like you; but if you tell him you're interested he'd be over the moon! he loves taking you to conventions, concerts, stores, and on one of those days, the two of you will just chill in his room. he always makes sure to tell you how grateful he is to hang out with you.

- Levi isn't the type to give nicknames, he's too embarrassed about it. he'd go all red and starts stuttering trying to even mutter the word 'babe' or 'love' or any other names Normies call each other. but when you give him one, he turns every shade of red you can think of.

- his bed isn't the most ideal for most, but he tries to make it comfortable for you at least. he'll make sure to order the fluffiest pillows and the most comfortable blankets just so you can be comfortable while cuddling or sleeping with him. sometimes you'll sleep on top of him while he plays on his phone or he'll lay his head in your lap while he games. either way, he loves being around you.

- sometimes you'll be out and see something that reminds you of Levi, so of course you have to get it for him! Rather it's a figurine, a drawing, or something as small as a keychain, he'll cherish it for as long as he lives.

- his love languages are receiving gifts and quality time. he understands thats you may be upset or busy sometimes and wants to be alone, he does too, but he wants to be by your side forever and always <3

[nakylvr]

hello! can i get thoughts on G!P kats? soo nobody expects that this little first date turns into the first sex and and!

how would the kats react when they find out that it’s their girlfriend first time doing it? (mybe they spot a little bit of blood or mybe you told them that it hurts so bad mid-way) 😊

thanks! also i loveeeee your works 🩵 new fans here!

ooou i gotchu 🙂‍↕️

sophia

she's the one who has a feeling it's your first time before you even say it is, and will ask if it is when she sees your face scrunch up in pain when she pushes into you, halting all her movements. when you admit it and say yes, she immediately becomes more gentle and is asking if you're sure about it (as if she isn't already inside you), and when you say yes she just nods and keeps her movements slow to not hurt you. she's constantly asking if you're doing okay and if you need her to stop, genuinely wanting to make sure you're feeling good. she's telling you how good you're doing and how pretty you look like this, brushing your hair from your face. she makes sure you've came before stopping, even if that means she wasn't able to cum. her main focus is you.

manon

she doesn't really think of it to be honest. she gets a little feeling when she sees your eyebrows scrunch together, but you say you're fine, so she thinks you are. this being said, she's pretty soft in general during the act, so she's already going slow enough so you can adjust to it without even telling her still. it isn't until she looks down and sees a bit of blood that she freezes and looks at you, asking if this was your first time. you just meekly nod with a whimper, and she starts going even slower, too slow almost that eventually you're begging her to go faster and she barely speeds up, not wanting to hurt you at all. she's so praising during aftercare once she's cleaned you up and makes sure you're okay, holding you close and running her hand through your hair.

daniela

genuinely she just thinks you've done it before. you're so good at hiding it in the beginning when she first pushes inside you that she kinda panics when you say it's hurting too much and she stops immediately, asking if you're okay and if she's too big or if she was doing too much. when you confess and tell her it's your first time, she feels so bad, and it's evident on her face that you have to tell her it's okay and that you were just embarrassed and didn't want her to know. she understands but still feels bad for not realizing, asking if you want to stop completely. when you tell her you want to continue she does but is a lot more slow and gentle with you. it's hard for her, but she does her best to keep from pounding into you, trying to make sure you enjoy it while asking you if you're doing okay. she's apologizing afterwards though when she's cleaning you up, mumbling how stupid she feels but feels reassured when you tell her she did good and that it was very enjoyable for you.

lara

she's the other one who has a feeling when she can see you visibly get nervous and shakily undressing yourself. and she straight up asks if this is your first time. you're a little shocked she caught on so fast, but it's not that surprising at the same time given how much she's shown she cares about you. when you tell her yes she just gives a small smile and says for you not to worry and that she'll go slow. she goes so slow when she's pushing in you and her eyes scan your face to make sure you're okay, stopping if she sees even the slightest bit of discomfort come from you. she's so loving the whole time saying how good you're doing, holding onto one of your hands while she goes slow, only speeding up when you ask her to. she's calling you "my angel" "my baby" "my princess" every other minute, always including my in front of it to let you know you're hers with a sweet smile on her face.

megan

she will freak the fuck out because despite it not being her first she just automatically thinks it isn't yours either. you don't say anything and never have, so she never thinks anything of it. but with her size, it hurts for you. even if she's going slow cause she's trying not to bust immediately, it hurts. she's been told that she's big, so when she sees your face contort, she thinks it's like her times with other girls. you still don't say anything, and when she slowly pulls out to thrust back into you she sees blood and literally freaks out. she's pulling out of you immediately, stammering out a mix of apologies and asking if this is your first and freaking out cause she's pulling didn't want to hurt you. you have to reassure her so much that 1, you're okay 2, yes it's your first and 3, that she doesn't need to panic (she still panics). once she's calm she's fine though.

[mer-acle]

In the silent wars au how is zeus as a dad to hephaestus?? I mean this zeus THINKS he is a better dad than kronos so like....is he the kind of guy who picks a restaurant that is wheelchair accesible and then goes "see son, my dad would have never done this, he would have left you home and brought you the leftovers if you were his, think about how lucky you are that i am your dad"🙄🙄🙄🙄🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️😒😒😒or does hera manage to get him to shut up???

Hmm yeah that's a difficult question. Here's a bunch of things I think Zeus would do:

disregard Heph is just as brilliant as Athena. He just doesn't seem to notice.

outwardly present himself as way more caring than he is in his day to day (yes, much like Nessarose, Heph doesn't like his wheelchair to be pushed unless it's like a steep incline and he physically doesn't have the strength. No, that does not deter his father)

yell at a principal on the phone bc they thought there was no ramp needed to a part of the building and Heph couldn't get there. Yes Zeus operates on "My children are an extension of me so disrespect toward them is disrespect toward me". (He would have 100% gotten involved if he'd known Athena was being bullied and demanded justice. She knew that and it was part of why she didn't tell him)

blame the fact that he doesn't spend much time with Heph on there being limitations in what they could do together (Sir. Sir you can still play catch with him if you try like. 1%. Who you kidding)

Also that restaurant scene would not happen for the sole reason that Hera would have picked the restaurant. She is mostly the one who makes sure Heph can get places. And in general just takes care of him. Athena and Ares already got primarily raised by Hera but for Heph it's like 95% just her. Fun. Murder

So yeah it's like. Complicated? Better than in the myths ig? But it's still kinda sad, the man has a wonderful son and just. Doesn't appreciate him at all. (tbh he doesn't appreciate his other wonderful son either. And his wonderful daughter is about to experience a dramatic decline in "performance" due to depression and shit, so she's gonna be much less of a golden child in his eyes. Aren't we having fun here? Aren't we? Don't you want Zeus to have a long and healthy life?)

[angeliteeyes]

Platonic Astral Express Crew x Reader - How They Comfort You After a Breakup

For the anon I responded to before this 🩵 I really hope this helps

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

•°~Himeko-°•

When she hears your sobs coming from your room, she gently presses the door open and peeks inside. Seeing you in this state breaks her heart, her considering you and the other members as her own family.

"What's wrong, dear? Did something happen?"

Before long, she's creating a stockpile of every single post-breakup item she could possibly think of. Tissues, chocolates, and so on. Her warm palm rubs up and down gently across your back, hoping to provide you some solace. Although she says little, her actions speak for her just fine.

"I'll be here with you for as long as you need."

•°-Welt~°•

Welt's paternal instincts kick into high gear when he learns of your situation. He appears generally reserved and calm most of the time, but when it comes to you or another crew member being hurt, he can't help but get protective.

"Are you sure you don't need me to get involved? If you ever feel as though you're in danger in any way, we'll do everything in our power to protect you."

After ensuring you're really alright, he quickly grabs a book out of his collection that he thought you'd enjoy and reads it to you. No matter how long it takes you to fall asleep, he'll remain there by your side.

•°~Dan Heng~°•

Although he doesn't immediately realize what's happened to you, being locked in his room, he eventually notices the others going in and out to support you. He patiently waits for a moment where you're left alone and knocks.

"May I come in?"

Once he gets your permission, he cautiously enters. Regardless of how close you two may be, navigating this social situation was new for him and left him feeling a bit nervous. He doesn't actually say much of anything outside of the basics, but you wind up with a new potted plant next to your bedside.

Like this plant, you too shall grow stronger with each day that passes.

•°~March 7th~°•

"Hey, did I leave my camera in here—wait, what's wrong?"

She grows flustered as you confide in her what happened. Her concern for you overpowers any other matters that were on her mind, making her rush over towards you.

"There, there, it'll be okay. Oh, I think we got some candy earlier. Be right back!" March darts from room to room to bring over anything and everything she thinks you'd find comforting.

If you need to rant, she's all for it and actively encourages you to do so. Regularly, she'll chime in with her own opinionated comments too. Stuff like "You can do better than them anyway! They don't deserve you!" Of course, if you express that you don't want her to speak ill of them, she'll keep her mouth shut.

•°~Trailblazer~°•

They will bring you video games to play together, no questions asked. When it comes to supporting you, their primary goal is to get your mind off of the situation. If they can get a laugh out of you too, that's an added bonus.

Once they notice you focusing on the game and calming down, they smile to themself. You deserve to have some peace.

Also, expect at least a couple of jokes to be thrown into the conversation. They'll try anything to bring up your mood, even if they end up being rather cheesy and pun-filled. As long as you find them funny, it doesn't matter.

•°~Pom-Pom~°•

"Hm, what's that noise? Is that... crying?"

Pom-Pom's cleaning comes to a halt as they linger outside of your room. They've experienced their fair share of crew members needing comfort, given their long time aboard. Still, seeing you sad... somehow, they end up crying even more than you did.

"That's not fair..." They sniffle and use their ears as makeshift tissues for their tears. "You shouldn't have to go through that." In the end, you and Pom-Pom wind up cuddling each other for the rest of the night, until you both eventually nod off to sleep.

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

Author's Note: Dear anon and anybody else who's going through a rough situation, stay strong and keep pushing forward!! Just like the Astral Express crew, you can make it through hard times ^-^