#my language partner very politely was like 'it's not that bad'

[hideyseek]

would that my chinese handwriting were this good ...

[maidragoste]

hiii can i request a jace velaryon x reader where they are betrothed and jace is head over heels for her but she doesn’t want to get married because she knows it’s a political marriage and she doesn’t think jace likes her because he avoids her (not really “avoids” but tries to keep distance by ending convos quickly or not sitting next to her during mealtimes etc) due to his crush and being nervous around her.

ps. i’m so sorry for you loss, my cats are my babies so i am sending you an extra tight hug :(

Hi, anon, thank you very much for your message 🫂🫂 I hope you are well 💖💖

I'm sorry it took me so long to finish your request but I hope you like the result 🥰🥰

As I always say, likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated because they motivate me to keep writing 🤭💖💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

To say that you are excited about your engagement would be a lie.

Well, actually, at first you were, after all, every girl's dream was to marry a prince. But any fantasy of a loving marriage was put to rest with your fiancé's attitude.

Jacaerys Velaryon is not a bad man, he is not rude or treats you badly. But he clearly doesn't like you. Every time you try to have a conversation with the prince he finds a way to excuse himself to quickly end any interaction with you. When he arrives after you to the dining room and you smile at him giving him a clear invitation to sit next to you, you always end up disappointed because he is going to sit next to his brothers. But you never felt so humiliated as right now. You thought he would ask you to dance, you were sure he was watching you from the other side of the room and when you saw that Prince Aegon, King Viserys' son, gave him a push towards where you were sitting you thought it was to encourage him to ask you to dance, but when Jacaerys approached instead of offering you his hand he gave it to Baela, who was sitting next to you. You stared at your lap feeling deeply embarrassed and wishing to go home.

Maybe the problem was that Jacaerys wanted a Valyrian bride and instead, he had to settle for you, a noble girl without a dragon or violet eyes. But if that was the reason why Jacaerys wasn't even forcing himself to make this not just a political marriage then you thought he was a fool.

You wanted the party to end so you could go to your chambers and write to your mother to beg her to convince your father to break off the engagement. You didn’t want to marry Jacaerys.

“Will you dance with me?”

You raised your eyes from your lap to see Aegon Targaryen, your fiancé’s younger brother. You felt mortified, you must have been such a pitiful sight that the kid decided to take pity on you and put you out of your misery.

“It would be an honor my prince” You took a while to reply but Aegon never got nervous, in fact, he seemed sure that you wouldn’t refuse him.

The little prince led you to the dance floor like a good gentleman and the two of you began to dance. You honestly thought that he would at least step on you by accident once but the truth is that he dances very well.

“My brother can be quite a fool sometimes,” Aegon said, drawing your full attention, and if you weren’t already so upset with Jacaerys, then you would have told him he shouldn’t talk about his own brother like that. “I think he acts like that with you because you make him nervous.”

“That sounds foolish,” you said, not allowing yourself to have any hope that your possible future brother-in-law is right.

“I told you, he’s a fool,” he said with a small smile before spinning you around.

You were shocked when you finished spinning and found that your new dance partner was none other than your headache: your fiancé. You tried hard not to feel anything when his hand took yours and his other hand placed itself on your hip.

“You look beautiful,” Jacaerys said, surprising them both because he hadn’t planned to say that out loud. “It’s not that you didn’t look beautiful the other days, you always look beautiful,” he quickly clarified, afraid that he had offended you unintentionally when he saw that you remained silent.

You bit your lip, trying not to smile when you noticed his nerves. Maybe Prince Aegon was right.

“Thank you, my prince. It’s good to know that you don’t displeasure me.”

“Displeasure me? “Why would you think I displeasure you?” His pretty brown eyes looked at you distraught.

“Because you don’t spend time with me,” you answered obviously. “You seem to prefer being anywhere than being with me. It’s a miracle that you’re dancing with me right now.” There was no harshness in your tone but Jacaerys still felt embarrassed. “You know your brother told me something interesting, I’d like to know if he’s right or wrong,” you said, drawing the prince’s attention.

“What did Aegon say to you?”

“He told me that I make you nervous and that's why you avoid me,” you replied cheekily and watched with delight as a slight blush appeared on his face upon being discovered.

“I am so sorry, my lady."I shouldn't have had such a shameful attitude,” he apologized, realizing that because of his nerves, he had given you the wrong idea. It had never been his intention to make you think he didn’t like you.

“I will not accept your apology,” your words were like a slap to him and he couldn’t help but tense up. You weren’t even married and he already managed to upset you. “At least until I see your change of attitude,” you declared and felt excited as you saw his eyes fill with determination. Suddenly he seemed to have gained confidence.

"I'll do it. I will reward you,” Jacaerys promised, determined to be a better fiancé and not disappoint you again. He wanted to lay the groundwork for a good marriage with you.

“I can’t wait to see that,” you smiled, and he quickly returned your smile, feeling happy that you were willing to give him another chance.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works:

@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1

@joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @partypoison00 @labellapeaky

@rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @natashaobo @watercolorskyy

@nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0

@klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2

@buckylahey @wa801 @artistadistrada2002 @thelastemzy @justanotherkpopstanlol @yn-jackson @jacesvelaryons @aemondwhoresworld @cassiopeiablogg-blog

hotd masterlist

[bogkeep]

being in aroace education mode has me all fired up...... one thing i talk about a lot when given the opportunity is Deconstructing How We Think About Relationships - in short, if we put all of our relationships with other people into a pie chart the 'romantic partner' slice is likely to be a very small slice but gets a disproportionate amount of Relationship Infrastructure compared to other categories, such as vocabulary, rituals, attention and narrative scaffolding - entire systems such as dating / finding "the one" / break-ups / the relationship escalator, etc. on the flipside, 'friend' is such a vast category consisting of a plethora of different relationship, all ranging from Friendly Acquantaince to Extremely Close Childhood Friend You Share Everything With, but we have a lot less language and structure for how we think about these relationships even though many of them can be deeply important and intense to us.

the line between romance and friendship is really blurry, maybe even non-existent, but it feels like the way we think about these categories is that Romantic Partner is this one very specific, formalised box of a category, while Friend is a vast and vague landscape where anything can happen - and it's on this free real estate we have built structures like Queerplatonic Partner. the concept has probably existed since forever, along with many other different types of relationships throughout time and cultures, but it's our current attempt at having a Word for it.

are you with me so far? i want to write a blog post about Deconstructing Intimacy.

just putting a CW here that i'm going to say the word sex a lot and touch on the topic of sexual trauma.

one of the very thorny things about This Whole Topic is that sex and sexuality is extremely political. we just do not live in a world where there's any neutral ground to stand on regarding sex. every demographic comes with a lot of assumptions and expectations and moral judgement tied to sexuality. some demographics are desexualised, some are hypersexualised, some are Both At Once, and in addition to that there's lots of stigma, moralizing, pathologizing, and lawmaking. just a whole mess.

so all of That makes it kind of impossible to fully Dethrone Sex. and by dethroning sex i mean stripping it of the baggage it's accumulated in our cultures. Sex Is A Thing You Can Do With Your Body (And Your Mind?). this does not have to make it any less or more meaningful to you than what it already is. what each person considers intimate is very individual. many people find hugging completely inconsequential and will hug anyone at any time, and for some people a hug is A Lot. For some people, sex is a very fun and casual activity, and for others it's Sacred and carries a lot of meaning and a very close bond. sex is intimate - it requires trust and vulnerability.

it is not the only way to achieve trust and closeness, nor the only thing that requires it.

whenever i take the bus somewhere, i trust the bus driver to take me there safely. i put my literal life in a stranger's hands, but it's a very casual affair i don't think about too much. it's not an act of intimacy, just someone doing their job.

i think the way we talk about sexual assault as the evillest most horribly irredeemably worse-than-death thing, and sexual trauma as a unique kind of trauma amongst traumas, is... indicative. and please do not get me wrong, SA is a horrible thing in every way. it's a violation of trust, vulnerability and personal space. it's an abuse of power. those are the things that make it so horrific - but it's not unique.

an abuse of power, a violation of trust and vulnerability, can happen in so many different forms. emotional abuse, non-sexual violence, medical abuse, et cetera - i don't think it's possible to place trauma into a hierarchy from least to most bad. trauma can be incredibly complex and it's different for everyone. if one day the bus driver on a whim decided to drive off a cliff, i think that would severely fuck up my ability to trust other people to drive me around. if i trusted someone with my innermost thoughts that i have never shared with anyone else, and they used them to be cruel to me, that would severely impede my ability to connect with others.

i just... don't think it does anyone any favours to separate sexual trauma from all other trauma - making it seem like sexual trauma is The Worst Trauma Possible You Can Never Heal From, and on the flipside, make it seem like Well Your Non-Sexual Trauma Cannot Possibly Be That Bad.

TRAUMA TOPIC ASIDE, i think the concept of intimacy has a tendency to get flattened into just the one kind. there are many, Many ways for people to be intimate, many activities that require some form of mutual vulnerability or physical contact, but it seems like we're just very used to placing Acts of Intimacy into the Sexual category. kind of like a venn diagram where the two circles are Sexual Intimacy and Non-sexual Intimacy that are largely overlapping. but what if, instead, it's more that Intimacy is a really big circle, and sex is just one of the circles within it?

the way i think this slots into the whole Relationship Infrastructure thing is that We Like To Categorize Things. if we see two people being very intimate in a way that's not explicitly sexual, it's tempting to think ah yes they are in love AND they're having sex, OBVIOUSLY, because they are clearly capable of having that level of trust and vulnerability together. but what if they're not? does that devalue their relationship? does it make them any less close? these are very chewy questions to ask even without bringing shipping discourse into it, and i would prefer Not To because sexuality is political and there is no right answer.

another way this flattening can be frustrating is all the times non-sexual intimacy is treated as Sexual By Proxy. let's say, for example, you're telling a story, and all forms of intimacy within that story get read as metaphors for sex, despite your actual intentions. there's nothing wrong with using metaphors for sex, especially since Sex Is Political and sometimes we gotta be clever about the storytelling - but it can get very messy if people read sexuality between characters who don't have that, especially characters between which it would be very problematic to portray that. we gotta be able to tell stories about all kinds of close relationships, and surely it should be possible without bringing freud into it at every turn.

intimacy is context-dependent, i would say. a moment of vulnerability can be platonic or romantic or sexual or maybe something else depending on a situation and all the factors involved. human connection is an boundless spectrum, not just a couple boxes.

did any of this make sense? they're just my Thoughts, i'm not a scholar on this i just

[queerism1969]

What is something about being LGBT that a straight person would never guess is a thing you have to deal with on a regular basis?

People asking how you have sex

Once you come out, you never truly stop coming out.

Being queer means that you are going to be really lonely a lot of the time.

The mini internal debate you have every time you tell a story about your SO. Do I say friend or girlfriend? Have I come out to this person yet?

People ask if I know X person because they're also gay.

When you're gay, there's a very real chance your Significant Other will not have a family to bring you into.

Any expression of my sexuality is "being in your face about it" and "it shouldn't be your whole personality".

Everyone had an opinion about my mere existence.

People legitimately question the validity of your relationship, and whether it's just a phase-especially if you're bisexual

Straight people always want to know what your type is. It always feels like a test to see if you find them attractive.

How to properly have sex. They REALLY don't teach you that in sex education.

You never know who is secretly homophobic whether at work or in public, so you always have to act "straight" in a lot of situations

You get sick of never being represented in media, but straight people don't really get it.

Getting polite service is difficult.

Office workers will sometimes purposely send you on goose chases because they don’t want to serve you.

Before y'all knew I was gay, you talked a lot of smack about "the gays." You don't remember, but I remember. I will always remember.

Losing nail clippers can really harm a relationship.

Being queer sometimes feels like being a 30-something-year-old teenager in a community full of 30-something teenagers and weirdly grown-up kids who’ve been living on their own since being kicked out by their bigoted parents at 16.

We have to constantly police our language.

The shame/internalized homophobia.

Your right to exist being a political debate

Wondering when the Supreme Court will revoke my rights.

You can’t really just have sex on a whim... You have to spend time (a lot more than you think) to clean.

While closeted, probably the weight of the secret or the fear of someone finding out.

A gay person will watch any TV show or movie, no matter how bad, if they hear there is even a slice of positive gay representation in it.

When a gay couple kisses in public, people stare. Not even out of disgust or anything, but just because it’s still kind of foreign to them.

You can't always go to the place you want for your honeymoon, because you might get killed

Being described as someone’s “gay best friend” and not just their best friend.

Every time we tell someone we have a partner, and it catches them off-guard, they proceed to tell me about a gay person they know.

The doctor is always super surprised as to how we can be both sexually active and be 100% sure that we are not pregnant

People force you to come out, and they act like they’re doing you a favor.

You have to be prepared to lose any friendship at the drop of a hat

Every couple of years or so, we get a random homophobic death threat on social from someone we've never interacted with.

[devildomwriter]

Hey...Do you think the brothers ever has gf/bf or maybe "patner" before In celestial realm or even in devildom. I mean people too afraid make a move on lucifer (busy and intimidating too) , levi too shy, belphie always asleep and beel....(?) Since asmo canon have a gf, satan knows a lot of people and mamon was a model (probably they have)

Do you think mc secretly have a fanclub in devildom? People too afraid to talk to mc since the bro's always glued to mc..

Thank you..... and sorry for my bad english

* First I just want to say you don’t ever need to apologize for not being fluent in a language. It’s very respectable just trying to learn another one, especially English because it’s a very difficult language if it’s not your first. Most English speakers still have trouble with grammar, myself included, and I go to college for it, so don’t ever feel like you need to apologize because you’re doing awesome ;)

For your first question did they ever have a partner? Besides Asmodeus canonically having one, no one else has had it confirmed in the game. However I have my own thoughts on this.

Lucifer is very intimidating and the people he doesn’t scare away may have ulterior motives so he may quietly try out a date or two to sniff out any motives. Even though he teases MC in season one about having many lovers in the past I feel like he’s never had a girlfriend/boyfriend/partner, but he may have had a one night stand here and there.

Mammon has definitely has partners in the past but not for long. This is mentioned in the game in chapter 1-3 that when Mammon takes a liking to someone they find themselves a wash in money until Mammon breaks it off. I believe Mammon has had a lot of flings in the past.

Leviathan has definitely never had a partner or even tried to.

Satan has probably had a few one night stands but I don’t think any relationships got very serious. He doesn’t seem like the kind to spend a lot of time away from his books and hobbies and wouldn’t originally have made time for a partner.

Asmodeus has had a million flings and thousands of partners but I don’t think he really considered these partners to be serious and saw them more as a fun time. After all, until he met MC he never cared for anyone above himself.

Beelzebub probably had a partner on accident in the past. He probably unknowingly said yes to someone when they gave him food and just went along with it until they stopped providing food or someone gave him better food. I believe people eventually realized he was just saying yes to the food and didn’t hold it against him. As for one night stands, he’s really shy but he may have tried it in the past.

Belphegor has definitely never had a serious partner but he may have had a few friends with benefits or flings in the past just to try it out.

I’d also like everyone to remember that Leviathan is the only brother confirmed and consistently stated to be a virgin.

Barbatos had definitely never had a serious partner but he used to be young and full of power once too so he may have slept around a few times though it seems to have been so long since then that even small interactions with MC make him blush wildly.

Diavolo has never had a partner. He’s had many friends but MC is the first time he decides to act on his feelings.

Simeon had stated in game that he’s never had someone like that in his life so he defeats hasn’t and Raphael having flings is out of the question. That angel only cared about his job and getting better at his job.

Solomon canonically has had many partners in the past. Since our Solomon and the biblical king Solomon are meant to be the same person, he had hundreds of wives and concubines in the past but those days are long gone and he’s likely not done much in the way of Love since then.

Mephistopheles states in Nightbringer that he’s not in a relationship and that talks of marriage are far away (although this is the past) and he firmly believes in a politically arranged marriage.

Thirteen doesn’t seem like she much cares for anything romantic but she may have had a fling once or twice in the distant past.

As for the second question. MC definitely has a fan club as they have received fan mail before and had a Devilpedis article written on them. They were also an urban legend in the sorcerer’s society, and are a huge public figure in the Devildom and crucial in connecting the three realms. It’s impossible that MC doesn’t have two or more fan clubs.

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: Body Count

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable. I’ve been seeing some stories about Alastor not having understanding the slang for ‘body count,’ so here’s my take.]

[Word count: 1426 Cw: language]

—————

“Really Angel? That’s your bonding activity for the day?” Vaggie’s single eye glared at the lanky spider.

“Whaaaaaat? Charlie wants us to share intimate secrets!” Angel Dust’s voice was full of seductive mischief. “Body count is a very intimate secret. Tells you a lot about someone.”

“Angie’s right!” A cheerful voice called from across the parlor. Cherri Bomb, the hotel’s newest sort-of-resident, didn’t seem much interested in redemption for herself. She did however have a genuine desire to help Angel and to defend what Sir Pentious gave his life for. The busty cyclops was teaming up with Vaggie as part of the Hazbin Hotel’s basic security.

She also had a mischievous streak wider than her friend’s. “I’ll start, give ya a hand Angie.” Angel snorted a laugh saying, “I’ve already got six toots!” She threw an ice cube from her drink at him. “One thousand eight hundred and twenty…” she paused to count on her fingers, “six. Most o’ that’s from Hell. I got to thirty-one before I died.” She leaned back on her couch, looking very satisfied.

Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer could only stare for a moment. “Whoo, nice going Cherri! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint,” Angel crowed. “Lesse here, before I died it was six. After that…” he did some quick math on his phone, “about 90,000? I’m sure we can review my body…of work to confirm.” He grinned lavisciously.

Charlie waved her hands rapidly. “Nope! No no no no no thank you Angel, you’ve shown us plenty that of that during ‘show and tell’ day.” Lucifer looked vaguely disappointed at missing out so Angel resolved to sneak a copy of his favorite performances to the king of Hell.

Charlie continued, forgetting her dad was in the room. “Mine is six,” she said with a shy air, her pale complexion turning bright red.

“WHAT?” Lucifer spat out his tea.

“Oh shit! Dad!” Charlie was flustered but did her best to compose herself. “I mean, I’m over 200 years old now, I’ve been living on my own for decades!” She took her girlfriend’s hand and squeezed it. “Besides, Vaggie is the only one that matters now.” The long haired angel gave her a watery look.

“Well…I guess you’re right sweetheart. So long as they all treated by little girl right?” Lucifer asked with an edge to his voice. At Charlie’s nod he said “Good.” He took a sip of tea before providing his number. “Seventeen.”

“Dad?! I thought…you and Mom…what?!”

Lucifer shrugged. “I don’t kiss and tell Charlie. But your mother knows about all of them. She was even there for some.” He grinned wickedly, looking completely like the king of Hell for once.

Charlie buried her face in her hands while Vaggie rubbed her back in sympathy. “Not too shabby short king. Okay Vags, you’re up!” Vaggie glared at him and flipped him off. “Just our fearless leader?” Angel teased. She huffed, glanced back and forth, and held up her index finger as she blushed. “Thank you for your honesty, Vagina. Huskiekins, how about you?” Angel turned around on the couch to face the bar as Vaggie bristled.

Husk sighed as he continued polishing glasses. “Three when I was alive. Nine since I died.” He was fully prepared for Angel to say something like “Wanna make it ten?” but he just received four thumbs up from the somewhat reformed demon.

“Apologies for our lateness,” your voice called from the elevator. “Alastor had to rewrap my wing this morning.” You and your husband walked arm in arm to the group, with Alastor making sure you were comfortable before taking his own seat. Once he was ensconced in the wingback chair, long legs crossed politely, Lucifer popped up to inspect your wing.

“Hm, not bad.” He had you stretched it gently and gave Alastor an approving nod. “Good work deer boy.”

“Oh ho, of course my good fellow!” The lack of static filter on his voice was the most display of annoyance he would give at the moment. He hated the idea of any man touching you, much less Lucifer Morningstar. But he knew he didn’t know how to help your wing injuries without the fallen angel’s help. “I am a quick study after all! Can’t let my darling rely on someone that might not be around, hm?” His smile widened as Lucifer’s growl showed his comment hit home. “So! What are we discussing today, chums?”

“Ooooh, this is gonna be good,” Cherri giggled as Angel replied. “Body count, Smiles. Before and after death for the Sinners in the group. So, what about you and the missus?”

“An odd topic, but alright. You’ve kept a better count than me, cher. If we count the one right before our death mine is seventy-four?” Jaws dropped at your statement.

“That sounds correct. I had eighteen before we met, and a few solo after our initial encounter. That makes ninety-seven for myself,” he said, looking up to calculate mentally. “I believe after my arrival here, my count is five thousand thirty-one. Give or take a dozen.”

You nodded as Cherri breathed “hooooly shiiiiiit,” with an impressed look. “Mine is still more modest, four thousand six hundred and two. Again, give or take a dozen. Of course, about half of those we did together.”

Alastor hummed in satisfaction. “Oh ho, yes that’s true. Would that increase or decrease our original counts? Or should we have a separate list for couples?”

“Fuck me, I didn’t think they were capable of that,” Cherri said in awe. Lucifer blinked one eye, then the other as his brain tried to catch up. Charlie had her hands over her ears and Vaggie was rubbing her temples. On the other hand, Angel and Husk were sharing a confused look.

“Doll face, Smiles, what kind of body count are ya talking about?” He remembered the discussion about your sexual preferences and the numbers didn’t add up. The simultaneous head tilts from you both confirmed his suspicions.

“Is there more than one kind of body count?” Alastor followed up your question with his own, “How can there be more than one kind of body count?”

“We’re talkin bout how many people we’ve slept with.” Angel paused, remembering your difficulty understanding innuendos. “I mean how many we’ve fucked. Boned. Had sex with.” At his clarification you looked somewhat less confused.

“Why would that be called a body count?” you wondered as Alastor looked surprised at Angel’s explanation. “I’m impressed Angel, I didn’t expect you to explain anything.” Audio of an audience applauding resounded in the room.

The spider shrugged. “I promised your gal I’d explain innuendos if she’d tell me what you two do when ya fuck. Ain’t gonna go back on my word, ‘specially with this cutie.” He winked and stuck his tongue out at the two of you.

“Okay, what's your sexy body count then?” Cherri, disappointed that the thousands you mentioned weren’t people you slept with, was even more curious now.

“One,” you and Alastor said in unison.

Cherri spluttered a bit at the difference between the two kinds of counts while Angel nodded sagely. “Yeah, that tracks, considering you’re both ace as spades and the weird shit you’ve done.”

Lucifer, unsurprised at the amount of death and destruction Overlords were capable of, did look intrigued by that. “What do you mean, ‘weird shit they’ve done?’” Vaggie clapped her hands over her ears as Charlie buried her face into the other girl’s hair in embarrassment. Cherri Bomb nodded encouragement to you.

“NO!” Husk and Angel yelled out together. Angel looked straight up panicked as Husk dashed over to block Alastor and you from view with his wings. “Trust me Luci, you don’t wanna know,” Angel stressed, grabbing the short man by the shoulders. “It broke my brain. Mine. The porn star. Don’t ask ‘em.”

“Is the fact that we’ve [redacted] really that upsetting?” Alastor asked from behind Husk’s feathers. “I think it’s more that we’ve done things like [oh no, not this again], cher,” came your cheerful reply.

Husk pressed his wings back, covering both your mouths. “Boss, Y/N, please stop.” Niffty choose that moment to scramble up Alastor’s shoulder and peek over Husk’s wing. “They’ve done [bleepitybleep] too!”

All heads whipped in her direction. The tiny maid looked proud of herself as she added, “My body count is five! Just one from life. That one counts for my murder count too!”

“Okay, new topic!” Charlie stood up abruptly, her face as red as her tuxedo jacket. “Umm, uhhhh, let’s talk about favorite foods!”

—————

Taglist: @whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

[loveless-arobee]

Being Loveless

Because there’s a lot of demonisation going around still and people really gotta learn to chill down about the way other people describe their emotions.

I identify as loveless as both a personal identity, as well as a somewhat political (? For lack of a better word rn) one on top of it. I’ll explain what I mean by both.

This is only my personal experience, not every loveless person feels the same! If any other loveless person wants to share their experience in the notes, feel free to do so! I enjoy hearing about other people :)

Long post incoming. I tried to keep on track but my mind is messy whenever I’m writing something that’s not a book haha.

So, why I personally identify as loveless is actually the most obvious reason: I don’t really feel anything I’d label as "love". This ties into my low empathy, I think, and my inability to really understand my own emotions, too (alexithymia) (though I see both of that as the same thing, really; to me it just feels like my own low empathy extends to myself, too, not just other people. (But that’s just me, ig))

I don’t really feel like the word love accurately describes any of my feelings, there’s always better phrases to describe what I actually mean. "Love" is a muddy word that can mean almost anything; it just doesn’t make any sense to me. I prefer to use precise language. Like, "I enjoy your company/I like spending time with you", "You’re my favourite person", and "I’d die for you" etc., all carry so much more meaning to me than just a simple "I love you"; because that could mean all of the above or none of it.

For me, it’s just an inaccurate word that doesn’t serve what I want to say at all, almost all of the time. It either can mean everything or it’s just some thing people say, so what am I supposed to expect when someone says they love me? And what do people expect from me when I say I love them?

People also try to give me shit then for "not loving my pets"; as if my dogs and cat and mice would care how I label my emotions! I cuddle them when they want to, give them food and water and entertain them, get them to the vet when they need it, let the one mouse who likes it crawl all over my body, and make sure they live the best life I can offer them. Because I care for them! I chose to get pets; so it’s my responsibility to make sure they are healthy and happy, even when they piss me off from time to time. That’s a lot more than what I see other pet owners do that repeat again and again how much they "love their pets" but that’s a whole other can of worms I don’t want to open here.

The point is: why do my emotions mean so much more than my actions? What, because I don’t have the good and right emotions behind something, my actions are automatically bad? Because you love your pets your obvious abuse of them doesn’t matter, because you just mean well, and you feel the good and right emotions?

Which ties into why I think being loveless is also an at least somewhat "political" identity. At least in the culture I grew up in (European, but I’m very interested in people’s experiences outside of western culture!), love can be and is used to excuse all kinds of abuse and harmful actions.

We can see that a lot in parental abuse; children get told over and over again that their parents just mean well, that they didn’t mean to harm them, that they love them and isn’t that so much more important than the harm they’re doing? And when it gets "to far" (all abuse is to far), they turn and say well, they didn’t really love you if they did those things!

And isn’t it just so romantic that they loved their partner for so long before and stalked them and didn’t take no for an answer and pressured them until they finally agreed? So much love!

And so much more examples.

But of course when I point that out, people are going to hound me with stuff like "well if they’d really love them they wouldn’t do that" or some other variation of "that’s not real love, then!"

But that is just ignoring all the harm that can be and actively is done in the name of love. It is ignoring how love is used far to often to cover up suffering and harm by keeping it on that pedestal of can do no harm, only good. And that is bad. That is very bad.

Love is an emotion just like every other. It can cause both harm and good; and acting like people who love you are incapable of harming you is setting yourself up for abuse. And acting like loving someone means you could never harm or hurt them is making you ignorant to all the hurt you might be causing.

Being loveless, on a political level, means taking "love" down from that pedestal. It is about decentering love, and it’s about freeing myself from the societal expectations put on everyone. It’s about rejecting other people’s reading of my emotions.

And I honestly do not trust people who act like you can only care for someone and want to help them if you love them (or have empathy for them!)

Because basing your support on your own emotions for a person—or a group of people—will often times lead to you being a horrible ally. Because if that person, or some people from that group, do something you don’t approve of, or have an experience you can’t relate to, emotionally, do they not deserve your support anymore?

And why is my support worth less simply because I can’t feel other peoples’ feelings, or even fully understand them for the most part?

Of course, I’m not saying that labelling your own feelings as love is bad in general. But you shouldn’t act like loving someone absolves you fully from ever doing any harm to them, just because you obviously meant well (and they should be thankful you were even trying to help them!)

And you shouldn’t push your definition of emotions onto other people, or act like people with different experiences than yours are inherently evil. I am loveless, and I don’t care for love at all. If that makes you uncomfortable, if that makes you feel attacked, that is your problem, not mine. Take it out with yourself.

Love is not necessary to make a good human. And love can make some people absolutely horrid humans, too! Feelings are feelings and have absolutely nothing to do with one’s morals. Please stop acting like it does.

Thank you for reading this.

Some pet pics before someone asks:

(The last mouse does also have a friend, don’t worry. I would never keep a mouse alone! His friend is just asleep in their house rn and I don’t have a photo of them both. I found him sitting behind a house like this just now.)

[astropookie]

Sun houses and fathers pt2

Yoshitomo Nara

take what resonates, leave what don’t 🎀 you don’t have to necessarily identify with it.

*I use whole sign system -house system- for more certainty

1H: he could be narcissistic? or really confident in how he is or approach to things. In some point of your life he could have been wanting or controlling your life on some way. his family roots have something to do that impacted in your life. he could be described as intelectual and somehow formal, polite? these people could have been raised or influenced by someone who has a strong personality and who’s unpredictable; that’s why suns 1H are more conscious about their environments -and how their attitudes impacted in others-.

4H: your dad could seem distant when’s about to a understanding your mental health or aspects of your life that are seemed as untraditional for him -too specific-. he could be seen as someone who provides for his family, your mom could be a housewife or someone who’s not the “principal provider” -idk how to explain it, someone who doesn’t bring a major amount of money to the family?-. he could be distant and if he observes a problem in the family dynamic, he’ll play dumb? he would only act as someone who provides economic resources. lack of emotional intelligent? or approach to solve an emotional problem. the mom could have being not present in certain way, that’s why your dad could have tried to be both OR your mom could be the one that’s seems more affected by your behavior -take it how would like to-.

8H: he’s a very important and influential person in your life. you could be were you are bc of him -economically, geography, social life, etc-. for example: he moved to the country you were born or he was friends with a family and that’s how you met your wife -too specific ik-. it seems that bc of him you have “everything” in your terms. you could be really thankful and if he died you could smile and laugh while you’re remembering him. he has a unique personality, in every aspect. he may seem secretive, mysterious? there’s something they don’t talk about or they have a serious and intimidating aspect?

2H: the one thing you admire about him is how he manage money, that’s for sure. you could have grown up seeing how your dad works and manage things, his attitude towards material things. your dad could have give you stuff so he won’t feel bad about not having quality time or a continuous son-father dynamic. that’s why the main characteristic that caught your attention was the ethic of work and money management? that he seemed occupied? you lack an emotional security but you have financial security? or you seek security in every aspect bc you felt insecure and your father has something to do with that?

3H: screams something to do with communication. he influenced the way you think/mindset and how you communicate. his siblings are important to him or his family. he could have thought you about brotherhood? about union. also, you could be really perceptive and conscious about the words you use or just conscious about how you can influence others bc of the example you had. your dad could have supported you on the artistic stuff you were interested. also his love language/how he shows he cares is words of affirmations? or does he needs constant reaffirmation or reminders?

7H: your relationship with your father could be really tight. he influenced how you act and think towards relationships in general. that’s why you could think they’re really important or the base of life/your philosophy? you dad could be a dreamer or idealize things continuously or something he did/how he is makes you like that. you could feel pressured by your dad of having ideal friends and partners, to have a balanced life. he could not tell things straightforward/not being direct. he could have a thing for looking presentable and he thought you that constantly.

♡ Based on personal experience and I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

[submalevolentgrace]

for pretty much my entire life we have been locking up refugees in UN-certified human-rights-violating "offshore detention" camps for the heinous crime of daring to try and flee from death and worse, often from wars-on-terror we've helped wage, and have very much done highly decorated war crimes in. we hold them in conditions so bad that war-fleeing refugees have sown their mouths shut, tried to starve themselves, even children trying to kill themselves to escape what we're doing to them. WE are doing. because in my boots on the ground activism days i tried to fight the government on this, and the fact is, the australian public on the whole doesn't give a shit about us torturing refugee kids, half the country is in support of it, so the government gets a free pass no matter which side is in power. from howard to rudd to gillard to rudd to abbott to turnbull to morison to albanese, we lock up and torture refugees. the UN anti-torture inspectors aren't allowed to visit. the camps are run by a private USA prison contractor now.

and it's not like we can't organise a protest! we'll barricade MP's offices because of something an ally-in-law country is doing that we condemn, but when the blood is on our hands we don't wanna know, don't wanna fight, don't wanna admit. and albanese gets up there and says those barricades have "crossed a line", "there's no place for violence like this in our democracy", he says. you know where there is an implicit place for violence, apparently? cops beating indigenous kids to death on camera, the australian people are fine with that apparently. happens all the time. better have a curfew so those kids don't get too rowdy about it!

oh and the CIA agents and US soldiers we welcomed here to supposedly defend us, they rape a bunch of women and children, mostly also indigenous? better get ASIO and the AFP to monitor the population for anti-american sentiment, local cops do it plenty too and we can't stand up to the USA, we're about to go to war with our biggest economic trading partner on their behalf, the troop buildup locations have already been announced! sweep it under the rug little aussies, scrub it from your memory, who cares about raped children anyway? not worth protesting, apparently.

we are right in the middle of the asia-pacific, with loosely speaking about a 5th of the population ethnically or culturally asian, and they are absolutely terrified of speaking out about how many hate crimes they suffer constantly, because the other 80% of the population is more culturally invested in american politics than the fact that labor considers pauline hanson an ally. i don't blame the 20% getting hatecrimed for being scared to speak up, i sure as fuck blame the rest of us for not protecting them, and for doing those hate crimes. "wE'rE a MuLtIcUlTuRaL sOcIeTy!! nO rAcIsM hErE!!", but we'll organise citywide marches in the middle of a pandemic if a black american kid gets killed over there, and then tell blak people they're spelling it wrong.

then we flood the region with our white-bleached propaganda and "culture", to control smaller governments and and lure the people of the region here for our economic benefit; the wealthy as fodder to fund the education complex, and the poor to work below-minimum-wage-slavery "jobs programs" on our great proud aussie battler family run farms.

it's all out in the open. the torture, the murder, the rape, the hate crimes, the technically-it's-legally-distinct-from-slavery, it's all known, all reported regularly on the news, endlessly, cyclically, every few months or years, for my whole life. fuck knows what else we're doing and i don't know about because pine gap prevents it from reaching english language news.

i know the internet zeitgeist really only cares about the single latest trending topic to happen, so you're wondering what that is to make me react enraged and ashamed; but it's everything. i haven't even scratched the surface, just ranting off the top of my head.

every day i carry the shame of what a disgusting violent colony nation this is; to the people who consider themselves australian, to the people here before the nation and their descendants, to the people surrounding us now. i carry the guilt of failure to stop it, and casual complicity of having given up the fight because i couldn't handle it. i think that's what most activists do here, give up in shame, because activists aren't fighting the government - we have one of the most free and open democracies in the world, and the spineless cowards in charge absolutely will do what the populace whims of them - activists here are fighting the cruel and apathetic average australian, who either don't care, or active condone it all. we have the blood of this country on our hands.

so.

what has australia done now?

it's fucken wednesday, mates. nothing new.

[imaginethezeldaverse]

The Desert's Moon (Ganondorf x Reader) (NSFW)

Welcome, welcome to the 100 follower fic I set all those polls for! You all chose and waited so patiently, so please allow me to give you the winner: a good fic with our big bad guy, Ganondorf (Tears of the Kingdom version). This will be nsfw, and just to be safe, be wary of any spoilers below the cut, okay? For this fic I'm running with an idea that was dropped in my inbox - initially I had planned to make it a simple headcanon post, but since he won, I'm writing it as a full blown fic instead. Thank you all for voting, it sincerely means a lot, I cannot believe even more of you have followed me since then. The comments and appreciation from you all truly makes my day. 🥹 As for the theme: you are inexperienced (we'll even say virginal) and Ganondorf here is going to be your first. Let's explore that together, shall we? Reader is gender neutral for all to enjoy. I sniped some fictional Gerudo language from here because I mean Ganondorf is a Gerudo man...he definitely should be able to speak the language.

Ganondorf is intimidating, this much is true. His demeanor exudes power in all things he does: fight, lead, and even fuck. He's had many a partner, his skills as a lover growing with each encounter of his past. He is not unfamiliar with experienced partners - and he will show you the patience and slowness you deserve.

The key is for you to be honest with him. Should you try to front as though you are experienced in sex, just know that he can see right through you. Ganondorf's read on body language is exceptional - so the slight shake in your body or the quiver in your voice is an immediate alert to him that you aren't what you're trying to portray yourself as. To your benefit however, he'll most likely find this cute. You attempting to be brave and take him head on is adorable, even though you have no idea what you'd be getting into (or really what would be getting into you). Being upfront however is not without its loss - you'd gain his respect and potentially a chance to call him an equal, he likes the idea of a long-term partner who can be honest with themselves as well as him.

For a man of his size and status, he's quite gentle. He offers to hold you first in your nudity, get you used to feeling his body against yours. Ganondorf will most likely seat you in his lap, with your legs splayed open over the length of his hips and thighs. Should you shy away or find yourself embarrassed by the less than polite way you're sat on him, he'll simply chuckle, reiterating that this is to acclimate you. His hands will find a place on your thighs, unmoving, but present. "Touch me anywhere you'd like," he offers, the rich amber of his eyes meeting your own. Setting the pace in your favor will help ease some of your apprehension. Your hands explore the planes of his body: his adept, powerful hands; the sizable, muscular curvatures of his forearms and biceps; over the thickened bands of his shoulders and down to the broad expanse of his chest. He's a mountainous man in size and that alone has you a tiny bit afraid, but you also can't deny that being able to trace your fingertips over the patterned tattoos that stretch across his muscles doesn't elate you.

When your hands finally cup the wide angles of his jaw, you find the pluck to once more lock eyes with the Gerudo chief. There's something unreadable swimming in them: whether it's tenderness or restraint you aren't wholly sure. His arm wraps around your lower back, bring you ever closer to him in a swift push. Your hands remain on his face, lips inching closer. Ganondorf doesn't kiss you. No, he wants you to be the one to take the honor of taking the first step. The world talks of his lust and greed for power, and make no mistake, the rumors are very much true. But this - intimacy with you - Ganondorf knows better than to rush. Taking you by force serves him little, and there is humanity in him still that bars him from wanting any harm to come to you. To feel your body yearn for him willingly only makes that much sweeter. Your breaths mingle momentarily, your heart pounding in your chest until you finally take the plunge and seal the gap. You're chaste in your kiss, timidity holding your tongue. No matter, the sensation of his thick digits roaming over the curve of your ass has you gasping enough against his mouth for him to coax you into a deeper kiss. Unbeknownst to you, your head tilts naturally, angling so that you can continue the kiss comfortably. You let go of his face, your fingers sliding into his long vermillion locks. There's a sound vibrating at the back of his throat that hits your ears so pleasantly - the simple soothing sensation of your hands in his hair delights him, so naturally he wants you to know it. The kiss builds heat, your body slowly beginning to want his hands to move beyond your backside. You lean into him, pressing your chest to his and linking your arms around his neck. The smile that curls his lips upward is something you can feel, and you almost smile back - but his hands that have now occupied a space on your hips are dragging your body over his lap. Ganondorf parts from your mouth, watching you bite your lip as he slowly grinds you over what you realize is his length beginning to grow rigid beneath you. Breaths slowly starting to come in shudders you snap your eyes shut, focusing on how his length slides teasingly over where you biologically know he's going to be soon enough.

"Do you feel me?" he purrs, dark tiger eyes trained on your flushed features, "Do you feel my want for you? My desire?" Your thighs are seeking one another to lock this feeling between them, but his hulking mass keeps them widely separated - your center at the mercy of his ministrations. Seeking purchase, your nails dig into his shoulders, earning a pleased rumble from the man. His lips find the hollow of your throat, easing pointed kisses and gentle bites to your sensitive flesh. Soft moans sound angelic to Ganondorf's ears; with ease he lifts you into his arms, your legs still very much wrapped as best as possible around his torso. Smooth, crimson silks caress your back as you're laid across the stretch of his bed. He doesn't stop kissing your body, only proceeds to move down it. Your collarbone, your nipples, the softness of your stomach: all places his lips tease and touch. He drinks your whines and whimpers in as though starving, an innate need to hear your voice call out to him ever growing. Still, he keeps slow. Rough finger pads glide down your body, stroking and fondling a pathway until he settles on his knees, with your legs splayed open by the sheer width of him. Those kisses that traveled now dot their way from your knee and inward. Your breath hitches, you know where he's going...you desperately want him there. As he reaches closer and closer, you shudder out, "P-Please...Gan..." Those initially amber slits, now ochre with hunger, slide up to see your face. Your cheeks are stained with reddish hues with your chest rising and falling faster than before.

"Is there something you need?" the timbre in his voice makes somewhere your stomach clench. How is it just his voice makes you feel this way? What kind of spell has he cast on you? Though your mind tries to wrack itself with answers, it always circles back to the lips that are nipping at your inner thighs. He places a kiss just close enough for you to feel his breath over your sex and you swallow thick with the gasp that tries to free itself.

"Your...mouth..." says you in a shaky whine, "Please..."

Like satin and fire, his chuckle is both suave but with the promise of something vile. A strong grip parts your legs further, holding you wide open. You try desperately not to look at how he drinks your nudeness in, fearing that you seeing the sheer lust flashing across his strong features will have you curl into yourself.

His mouth descends.

You gasp sharply.

Hot and wet is his tongue against your opening, circling your responsive flesh, his eyes never leaving your face. Ganondorf watches on as his silver tongue devours you, each lap and suck at you surging pleasure through your limbs. With one last scoop at your hole, he drew back. There was a question at your lips when you felt him retreat, but before you could even get a word out, you felt his finger carefully slide into you.

"A-Ah!" you mewled, then hissed. Given the size of him overall, even his fingers were substantial in filling you somewhat.

"Shhhhh," Ganondorf hushed your seizing frame. A hand came to your thigh, his thumb stroking in soothing circles the same time his opposite finger exited you, "Relax, my va'ina, you'll need to be much more open if you plan to take me." Your body shudders as you breathe, willing yourself to relax yourself in his ministrations. Having already gave you some slickness there, his finger meets less resistance than normal. His eyes roam your figure slowly, watching all of the small shivers and shakes that begin to build as his digit steadily works in and out of you. A spark of want pulses up your hips, with each coax of his finger you felt tiny rivulets of desire multiply inside you.

"Ganondorf..." came your gentle plea. This feeling was slowly starting to feel inadequate, your hips moving ever so slightly to try and chase the sensation of fullness. Chuckling at your urgency, the Gerudo chieftain withdraws his finger - adding another and sliding back into you. Eyelashes aflutter, you mewl at the sensation of being filled once more.

"There we are," he mused, smirking at the way you're snatching your bottom lip between your teeth. Gradually his fingers stretched you open, separating minutely as he fed your body each stroke. As soon as you had acclimated, you found yourself once again needing more. His hand, though making you feel good, was simply proving not to be enough. Ganondorf recognizes this as your features scrunch with some frustration. You need him, don't you? You need more than just two measly fingers to give you the passion that you seek.

"Your body seeks more than my current attentions I see," he says matter-of-factly, withdrawing his now very wet digits.

You turn your head away to blush, being read like an open book made your body burn with some embarrassment. Yet Ganondorf understood. He lifts your leg by your calf, pressing a kiss into the muscle there. "No worry, I'll give you everything you seek." He sits upright now, towering over your supine frame, a hand at each of your knees. You know what comes next, and though you tremble under him, there's a fire in those eyes of his that keeps you brave. Fingers descend upon his. He catches your gaze, doe-like and nervous, but no sign of withdrawal within them.

"You'll go slow, won't you?" you ask him, your heart mere seconds away from jumping out of your chest. There's an expectation for him to laugh at such an innocent, if not naïve question - but he surprises you when his hand takes your chin between two large fingers and keeps your eyes to his. Softness unlike you've ever seen in him stares back at you. "I wouldn't dream of bringing you harm, va'ina, you're safe with me." His words bring you comfort, allowing you shut your eyes in readied bliss. To reflect this, you spread your legs further apart, "Then I am yours, Ganondorf."

His lips find yours, hungry in its kiss. As his tongue melds against yours, he slips a hand down to grasp himself. You feel the slight shift of his body on yours, strong thighs flush to the backs of yours. He parts from the kiss, though his face remains close, "Ready?" Unable to trust your voice, you simply nod. His muscular frame surrounds your body, encasing you in his warmth. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you inhale sharply when he presses into you. Considerable length and girth stretch you far more than his fingers could even attempt. He's slow, methodical in his pace. So much so that he stops, just past the head of him, the second you tense in his arms.

"Breathe..." coaches Ganondorf, his voice showing the tiniest hint of strain. Though shaky, you try to follow his advice, and it calms your body enough for him to advance. Your mouth drops open from the pressure, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as another inch fills you. The man above pecks loving kisses to your face as he sneaks a hand downward. He revels in the pleased gasp you let out when his fingers stroke your sex, "That's it...open up for me..." With him steadily plunging into your depths and the deliberate tease of his hand at your most sensitive area, you recognize that same spark from earlier.

Want. Need.

He slides in further still, about at halfway down the whole of him now. His hand doesn't relent on your flesh, easing over you with the intent to build the ecstasy he knows you're absentmindedly chasing. Ganondorf has every intention to bring you to rapture, but again - at your pace. There's a tremor in your thighs that shakes against his hips, he gives you more of him; but the noise you let out this time is a moan muffled only by the barrier of your bitten lip. He grins at this, supply your body with just a bit more. No reaction this time - you were getting used to him. His fingers stroke you for a few more counts, this being just enough for you to take him all the way to the hilt. You keen slightly, so impossibly full and almost dizzy from how overwhelmingly large he feels inside of you.

"Stay with me, love" he whispers, his opposite thumb stroking your cheek. The deep octave of his voice and the tender caress soothe you enough to lean into his touch. Ganondorf captures your lips once more, this kiss slower than the last. His hips remain still though his tongue ravages your mouth, and it pulls a licentious moan from you; the knowledge of him locked deep inside you as he kisses you so fervently has you yearning for what you know you want most. His mouth moves into your neck, and without hesitation your fingers bury into his fiery mane. There's a slight withdrawal of his hips, and you welcome the feeling now, the minor shift of friction feeding into a feeling at the most basic level of your instincts.

"More," your quivered voice speaks in his ear, "P-Please."

He's touched at your politeness, though it's unnecessary. You are a being to be worshipped in this regard, though you didn't realize it, you would never need to beg from him. Touching his forehead to your own, Ganondorf rumbles deep in his chest, pulling almost all of the way out of you before sliding all the way back in. "Nnngh, yes..." Ah, all he needed to hear. Adept hands place themselves at two points: a fist near your head for steadying, and a hand bracing underneath your back to keep you there. Leisurely, shallow thrusts easily evolved into deep, harder strokes. Your body would transform - blossom from tightly wound and tense to fully open and wanting.

The Gerudo male knows you're fully spellbound by your lovemaking when your nails begin to bite into the muscle of his shoulder blades - a most welcome pinch of pain. He's fully working you into you now, his hips immovable pistons to fuck you fully now. Your sweet and soft moans were climbing in crescendo, his name tumbling in slurred syllables off your honey covered tongue. Unable to stop himself now, Ganondorf growled into the junction of your neck and shoulder, pulling your body as flush to him as he could.

"Ah, ohh, mmf! Ahhhh G-Gan," you whined, clinging to him, "My body's on fire...I nghh I...!"

He feels you tightening around him, his pants are harsh as they dampen your skin, "Let it happen...let me have all of you." With only a few strokes of him you fall apart in a scream, your body winding up impossibly tight and then loosening entirely. The orgasmic pulse of your slickness around him milks him with an ungodly grip. He fucks you as fast as your body will allow, a few resounding claps against your flesh combining with the cries of your slight overstimulation that finally bring him to his own end. His strong fingers dig into you as he cums, hot and fast, in a wildly indecent roar. Your hands hold him in his place on your body, welcoming every drop of the licentious liquid that he spills inside of you. His hips begin to slow, still sliding in and out of your now sopping hole, and though you were already long finished, you moan at the sensation of his cock pulsing and feeding your body even now.

When he finally can take no more, he pulls from you entirely in a rough grunt. You feel the weeping of his seed from your entrance, but you are far too exhausted to care. Your body hums in pleasured bliss, but your limbs, so worn from a use you'd yet to experience until today, feel akin to lead. Never an issue, however, as Ganondorf carefully maneuvers you both so you can rest comfortably: with you at his side. His fingers traced the curves and lines of your body in silence, your hand and head rest at his chest.

"Gan...?" your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes lazily move to you. Your heart flutters with candid bravery, "...I love you."

He smiles at this. Fitting words for a connection as deep as this. His hand covers your head, pressing you closer to his chest in a protective maneuver. Ganondorf is anything but vulnerable...but even a man as mighty as he isn't incapable of feeling.

"You have my heart, va'ina. You are mine as I am yours."

You hum contentedly, happy to fall asleep in the arms of the man who loved you.

[eldritch-spouse]

How would Santi react if his usually polite Minx turned a tinny bit feral during sex?

The first round is normal; Minx is just enjoying the pleasure, not much more. Giggling, teasing, and secretly hoping he still has another round in him.

The second round is okay-ish; Minx would start crying tears of joy and screaming, 'Oh fuck yes', 'I love you, I love you, I love you' if he continued after the first round. Most of Minx's previous partners only had one round in them, so a two-rounder or more is like a special treat for her.

The third round is when things start going downhill; she starts drooling and any part of him that is near her mouth will get licked. Some examples are: if they were doing something like face-down ass up, if he places his hand on either side of her head, one of them will be covered in saliva by the time he pulls it away. If it was missionary, she'd start licking his neck, shoulder, shoulder blade, collarbone anywhere she could reach.

The fourth round and beyond is when she'd start clawing and biting at him; she'd shred his back into ribbons or bite his arm if something felt too good. In this kind of state, she's the definition of no thoughts, head empty, cause if she were strong enough, she'd rip a chunk out of him and not give a shit even when he's howling in agony.

Trying to pull out or leave will earn him a very angry Minx; she'll growl, which is more like an annoyed groan, and glare at him like, "How dare you? Are you stupid or something?" Minx is like a cat who's offended that you stopped petting them instead of a fearsome predator. 

If he still insists on leaving, Minx will jump on his back, sink her nails into his chest, bite his nape, and cling to him for dear life.

She's not letting him go anywhere until she is thoroughly fucked (she might faint).

This ask was inspired by Santi in this ask https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/744062965662285824/how-would-santi-react-if-he-sat-down-and-i-just?source=share the part here was jutting his hips I had to grip my sheets for dear life not to start barking. I want to slam dunk him into my bed sooo bad 😩

Recall that Santi is a high-ranker. Even if you aren't "feral" during sex, he can very well make you with little effort.

While it's funny to see this transformation take place in you with so little effort, and a fairly large ego-stroke, Santi isn't exactly surprised. He's got a good eye for guessing what type of attitudes people will have during sex, and while he's not impervious to misguided assumptions, he knows the quiet and polite kind like you tend to really let that beast go as soon as they're comfortable sexually.

Truthfully, he's kind of glad for this. Because sometimes clients want Santi to be more composed, and so he has to hold back some mannerisms that might frighten or shatter arousal. Not with you. If you're growling, soaking him saliva and tearing at his skin- Then you can handle a proper incubus. You wouldn't mind if he snarled loud enough to rattle your skeleton, wouldn't mind if the charming grin was replaced with bared teeth and glaring, if he held you by the neck and head sunk his claws into the meat of your ass to better hold your fragile body. You'd enter a possibly dangerous positive feedback loop of intensity thanks to the incubus' fluids, if not for Santi's self-control.

Your anger is hilarious to him. You're like a feisty house cat, honestly. Don't want Santi to pull out? Too bad, he wants to try a new position. Swipe at him and he'll snap his teeth in your face, a language that everyone understands no matter how fried their brain is.

Santi assumes that, given how hysterical you become the more you're pleasured, you won't be able to recognize your body's limits and will just continuously scream and scratch for more. The ideal victim really, who begs for their own demise- But that's not what you are to him, you're a treasure he can't afford to break.

So the incubus decides when sex stops.

By that time you're likely already properly worn out like a wrung towel and he's preparing your aftercare. But in case he decides it's not a good idea to go that far, then you can huff and puff all you want, Santi won't resume sex acts again.

People could mistake you for an entitled concubus with that attitude!

[livdem1human]

Hi,If is not bothering you

Could you please make headcanons of death being a little jealous with his s/o?

That wolf must be protective like a dog sometimes

Awww of course! I feel honored you're asking me to write it, i will try my best!❤️‍🩹

Death being jealous: how would he deal with it?

_____________________________________________

Warnings: Mention of Stress, Murder, some curse words/insults and obviously jealous hah

- tbh i think He would be a little overwhelmed

- Death always thought jealousy is a dangerous feeling, he had to witness endless murders which were fuled by jealous

- and yet he was sitting here and had to watch this random shithead shamelessly flirt with you INFRONT OF HIM?!

- would repeatedly tell himself to stay calm..

- but the was the mortal keeps looking you up and down?..

- if looks could kill this mortal would be Dead by now

- keeps checking your body language for any signs of discomfort, he might be hella jealous right now but he needs to make sure YOU'RE okay.

- when the mortal keeps flirting with you, even after you made it very clear that you're not interested, Death had enough

- " Excuse you, they said they're not interested. Leave them alone"

- he really tried to be polite, but it was clear that every word was coated with Venom

- but when the mortal decided laughed in his face and even mock him Death Snaps.

- "What are you gonna do about it Puppy? Bite me? Haha"

- if you listen closely you can hear a small growl coming from him..

- The mortals laugh died down reaaaal fast when death stood up and pulled them by the collar tho.

- kinda understandable though, i think everyone would be intimated when this big ass Wolf tower over them. Most of all when he has you by the collar.

- " I said: Leave MY partner Alone. "

- needless to say the mortal wiggled out of his grasp and ran for his life (literally)

- death had enough mortals for one night..

- " I am sorry you had to witness this my Love, would you like to go home? "

- He worded it as a question but his body language screamed ' i want to go home pls '

- The moment the front door closes he basically Crushed you in a hug.

- You can tell he feels bad for what happened

- Reassure him, tell him he did nothing wrong, when he calmed down maybe even tell him he's cute when he's jealous.

- Personal space? I sorry but you're not getting any of that for the rest of the night.

- You're HIS and he need to make sure it stays that way.

- Cuddles with you until you fell asleep.

- Will probably also fall asleep with you in his arms , he just needs to keep you close right now.

- His responsibilities can wait a little longer as well..

_____________________________________________

I hope you like it!

I decided to go with a somewhat soft scenario here where he wouldn't try to murder the person on the spot. But if you want I can also try to write another one where our favorite Pup loses his shit- 👀

Also a lil song which reminded me of your request:

[tumbling-rocks-no-danger]

I’ve noticed a tendency among Jalim writers to treat Salim as having already surpassed all expectations of character development, and as a result, he reads VERY flat.

He already isn’t the best written character, and I’ve yet to read a fic that seeks to rectify this.

The other protags have their roles in the story alongside individual emotional arcs. Jason, Eric, Nick, Rachel all have their own motivations, challenges, prejudices, resentments, regrets, hopes. But Salim? All he has is a bitchin’ personality and badassery to end all badassery. His feelings never change or develop. His worldview is never challenged.

That isn’t to say he’s unlikeable, not in the slightest, in fact he is one of my fave characters in supermassive’s history. I simply say this to point out that the fandom takes what they’re given with Salim and…go nowhere with it.

Yes, Salim is already perfect.

Yes, he is the perfect partner.

Yes, he has the right opinions.

No, he doesn’t have ANY flaws.

Is it against the law to write him as a complex person???

What is it we know about him?

He’s not very political.

He’s a single father whose wife left him and Zain many years before canon, and is therefore very protective and devoted to his family.

He speaks at least two languages.

Easy to get along with.

He’s resourceful.

He’s religious.

That is just a few things off the top of my head, but so much can be done with this.

Iraq has a VERY long and complicated history with the west, and has suffered and continues to suffer because of it. Basically any anti-western sentiment in Iraq is met with harsh crackdowns by the west: direct invasion and occupation, regime change, assassination plots, etc. It’s only understandable that many Iraqis would become disillusioned with politics and, as a result, merely focus on keeping their families and communities safe. Maybe this is what happened with Salim. Maybe he was more politically engaged when he was younger, but has since pulled back. Maybe even, on some level, he has fallen for western propaganda and views the American invasion of Iraq as understandable even if he still believes it is ridiculous and unjustifiable.

Why did Salim’s wife leave him? Was there infidelity on either of their parts? Was he a bad husband? Was he a good husband, but his wife simply didn’t love him? Did she want to leave the country while Salim wanted to stay? Was it amicable? How does Salim feel about his ex-wife? How does Zain feel about the divorce? Does he blame his father? What is the dynamic between Salim and Zain in the day to day? How often do they argue? Do they even argue? What are their traditions?

English is an incredibly difficult language to learn, particularly as a second language. Did he learn it at university? Did he go to university? What might he have studied? Does he speak other languages? Does he want to? Does he speak english with Zain?

Who are his friends? How often do they hang out? What do they do when they hang out?

What kind of family was he born into? Were they progressive or more conservative? Does he speak to them? Are they alive? Was he born into wealth? Or poverty? Or somewhere in between? What is his profession outside of the military? Does he like his job? What are his qualifications?

What sect of Islam does Salim follow? How strongly does he identify with it? What holidays does he celebrate? Did he raise Zain to believe the same things as him? Or did he raise him to decide for himself? Does Salim have any sort of religious or spiritual trauma? How does it affect his belief system? Is he ashamed of his attraction to men? Does he even know he’s attracted to men? How does he navigate these discussions with Zain?

These are all very interesting ideas, I think.

[3liza]

grim has an instinctual "therapy dog" response which I think could be trained into actual working behavior with a little effort. when he meets people who are having a hard time he is very good at just hanging around being "supportive" in a dog way. he's never been a very cuddly dog, he enjoys wrestling and physical closeness but seems to overheat easily and will just get too hot if he's being held or in your lap for very long, which is unfortunate for people who like lap dogs, but ideal for people who enjoy dog company but aren't big on getting dog hair and dog face directly on them all the time. two different and equally valid ways of being a dog fan imo but definitely a difference in preference.

more churchgrim blogging below

crucially, grim has been trained by me, a person who is very rarely tolerant of dog drool and dog intrusion into my personal space, to leave people alone when they indicate they don't want to be bothered. he understands the body language, but also the verbal commands "leave me alone" and "go away" as well as many variants of no begging for food, we aren't going for a walk right now, and interestingly seems to have some concept of "we aren't doing the thing you want to do right now, but we will do it later". like I always say with animal cognition, you can't do anything except speculate about how an animal is conceptualizing things like time, memory, future events, and the theory of mind of other entities, but you can certainly observe the animal's behavior and form a working understanding of how they respond to situations.

over the weekend grim went with my partner to his friend's house to do some computer help stuff. the report from my partner is that Grim was extremely well behaved and polite, and also did his therapy dog routine with the people in the house and then those people told my partner that grim was making them feel better, and to please bring him over any time. this is a consistent piece of feedback we get from people who meet grim, which is the most gratifying feedback I can get as a dog owner: your dog is polite and makes me feel better and I enjoy his company, please bring him back to visit me sometime. I feel like training any dog with basic social manners just enables everyone, including the dog, to enjoy his essential dogness without the bothersome aspects of dogs interfering with the interaction.

the most exciting report I got from the visit was that grim met their kitty cat, who was absolutely not interested in being snuffled or making friends, and that grim was very interested in the kitty and tried to approach, but that his approach was the same behavior he exhibits when meeting new people or dogs, eg, NOT his behavior when he sees a bunny or squirrel. this is good. this suggests that he does not perceive cats as prey, which is always a risk with any dog of any size. it only takes ONE miscalculation or reaction by a large dog who instinctually bites or grabs a small animal to seriously injure or kill that animal even if the intent wasn't to kill it. like I always say, even good dogs sometimes make bad decisions, it's the human responsibility to anticipate potential bad decisions and prevent them.

the cat was mad but stood her ground and even slapped grim in the face a few times but he just tolerated it and wasn't angry and did not respond, which has been his reaction to every time a small dog has gotten mad at him as well. he has been barked at and bitten a few times and he just looks put-upon and sad and deals with it. when he's in these situations I always praise him effusively and reward him for tolerant and calm behavior and this seems to have worked

if a cat was willing to let grim give them a good snuffle and tolerate the intrusion of his big dumb head for a few minutes I think they would be friends for life but he hasn't met any dog-liking cats yet. he's intimidatingly large and this just puts cats and small dogs immediately on the defensive unfortunately. I've been considering reaching out to the Seattle cat rescues to see if they would be willing to give me some kittens to foster, because fostering kittens in a dog environment is really helpful for adoption potential. it opens up adopting homes who have dogs for the kittens who are already socialized with dogs, whereas most cats are more difficult to integrate into a dog household.

I also think grim is bored sometimes during the way and that having kittens to "take care of" would be extremely enriching for his German shepherd prerogative of "protect baby and keep the herd together". I know GSDs despite their name aren't LGDs or technically herding dogs anymore, they've been bred more for guarding and patrolling instincts, but grim seems to have a lot of the "keep the family together and watch over them" vibes.

[luffyvace]

Hey! Can you do cute domestic headcanons with Kurapika and a female reader? 🥹 if ya feel like it <3

THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON THIS IS MY FIRST EVER REQUEST!!

(i wrote this three times and it crashed and deleted let’s try this again🧍‍♀️)

ENJOY!!

lets say this is during a time where he isn’t actively hunting the phantom troupe

also we’re going with where you guys are moved into a apartment together

for your safety he has security measures installed and teaches you how to fight if you don’t know how

if you do, great!! you two train together

especially if you know nen

that aside

kurapika’s love languages are:

acts of service

for this really he’s just a super helpful and motherly partner

feeling sluggish? give him your to do list he’ll do it all

feeling unwell? he’ll nurse you back to health

need to get this done but too busy? he’s got it

truly a caring lover

for quality time

he likes reading, shopping, cooking, cleaning, going on walks and cuddling with you

anything with you really

it is quality time after all

i feel he would also have a little bit of words of affirmation/praise in there

more so to you

”wow your so analytical and intelligent”

”your such a cheerful person, spreading happiness wherever you go”

”your so persistent towards your dreams….how admirable!”

or if you have impressive hobbies/talents or skills

”this only took you ____to learn?? your a genius y/n!”

”wow your self taught? your a natural!”

for your physical appearance he compliments your clothes and hair more than anything

not because he doesn’t love your beautiful eyes or sunny smile

but for example, when he saw melody, he didn’t see her as ugly or pretty

he just didn’t know she was a woman 😭

see what i mean? he just sees his girlfriend in a beautiful dress.

in his mind it’s less superficial

hope that makes sense

”you look stunning!”

“you did something new with your hair, i like it :)”

”is that dress new? it suits you y/n”

if you compliment him back he’ll be bashful about it

as for cooking

if your the better cook you make breakfast/dinner and he makes lunch

and vice versa

being the better cook comes with lots of praise 💖

he’s willing to learn more and is open to criticism if that’s the case

but if not abs he’s more skilled in this aspect he’ll teach you and give you tips

with cuddling you had to initiate it first

you came up to him while he was reading a book on the bed and snuggled up to him, laying your head in his chest and getting under the covers as he wrapped an arm around you, continuing to read

it gave him butterflies

he definitely likes to cuddle more often after that

sometimes even initiating it himself

he came up to you while you were watching tv on the couch and put his head on your lap/shoulder and you started to play with his hair

he also likes headpats

he gives you one and if you return the favor it makes him very happy ☀︎

bath time!!💗

he would be very nervous and shy about bathing together at first and makes sure your comfortable 1000 times

he doesn’t peak at you or look down

such a gentleman 🦋

if you want to add bath bombs or bubbles that’s fine by him as long as it’s noting messy

he’ll scrub your scalp and places that are hard for you to reach

would appreciate the same but doesn’t know how to ask

he does eventually after bathing together a couple times

“um..y/n? there’s this spot i can’t reach…could you get it for me?”

if you like to do makeup he would find it amusing to watch

ask to put some on him and you’ll be met with a polite refusal

although, ask for him to put it on you and he won’t decline

doesnt know much

knows a few basic things but gets some mixed up—it doesn’t look terrible tho

the result actually isn’t bad

eventually you meet his friends

killua isn’t all that interested in you, yourself- more so what type of person caught kurapika’s eye

unless you prove yourself to be cool right off the bat (liking chocolate robots or skateboarding)

leorio a simp 🧍‍♀️

may or may not “playfully” flirty with you. he cuts it out when kurapika straightens him out tho

he wouldn’t accept your offer even if you did flirt back- he’s too loyal to his buddy :)

gon is curious and the most interested in you

asks you all sorts of questions 😭💖

gon and killua can be a handful so i hope your patient, or at least not a hot headed person.

if they give you a headache kurapika sets them straight

he apologizes for the inconvenience in your own home

also gon and killua eat a lot-

but it’s fine because you send them grocery shopping which gives you some peace and quiet

that is until they come back with chocolate robots and snacks for dinner

so you and kurapika end up going shopping yourselves—leaving leorio in charge

which leads me to my next topic- shopping!!

kurapika is a responsible shopper, he stays on budget and doesn’t get distracted from the list

if you can do the same? great!!

if not you get stuck on cart duty

your job is to make sure no one steals the cart, put the items in the cart and..!

SCAN THE ITEMS!!🤩

if you want to ride in the cart he wouldn’t mind but would find it childish and a bit embarrassing

don’t forget you left leorio in charge..and gon and killua did NOT listen to him…😭

your house is a mess- they jumped on your bed, had a pillow fight, ate whatever snacks were left and went through all your stuff

“uhh- whoops!”

I REALLY HOPE U ENJOYED THESE ANON IT TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT-

MY APOLOGIES FOR THE WAIT THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT AND MY FIRST REQUEST!! ♡♡

[cecilysass]

Shine On (2/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 2: Nice Catching Up

Farrs Corner, Virginia Eighteen days later February 20, 2015

Mulder meant to finish the job before she came over. But it got away from him, like everything seems to these days.

So when she finally comes back—the long-anticipated visit home—there are still stacks of books all over the living room, all these untidy towers of hundreds of books. Cryptid encyclopedias, profiling and behavioral analysis monographs, texts about mythology and religion, science, art, language, history. They’re everywhere, chaotic, precariously balanced, piled, heaped, stacked.

“In the middle of a project, Mulder?” she asks as she walks in, gazing blankly around the room.

“Yeah,” he says with forced enthusiasm. “I’m finally reorganizing the books.” He says this like reorganizing the books is something they’d long planned to do, instead of a recent, impulsive middle-of-the-night idea. “I’m organizing them by topic so I can find things more easily when I need them. Good idea, right?”

“Sure,” she says, staring warily at the piles. He hopes she’s not noticing how many of her books still remain in his collection. “Good idea.”

The way she says this chills him, because it’s just so polite. The same distant tone of voice she used sometimes way, way back, when they were brand new partners in the Hoover building.

“Can I take your coat, Scully? Did you want something to drink?”

“Oh,” she says, running her palms anxiously down the front panels of her sleek pale blue coat. “I don’t think so. I don’t mean to stay long. I just need that box of bedding.”

“It’s right there,” Mulder says, gesturing behind a tower of books. “Behind the psychology section.”

“Right,” she says, craning her head to see it. Her eyes meet his again, and they’re soft and reluctant. “Then… I should probably go.”

“No,” he calls out quickly. A furrow appears in her brow. “I mean … please. Scully. Just stay and have a drink. You haven’t been home in so long.”

“It’s not my home any more,” she points out softly.

“I know,” he replies. “Really. I’m not confused about… anything. I just want to talk to you. Sit down for a bit. I have tea. Or that apple cider from Trader Joe’s you like.”

She seems to hesitate. “There are books all over the couch.”

“I can move them. Hold on.” His voice is calm, but inside he’s churning. He moves to the couch, begins moving books. “Just stay a while.”

Her lips lift into that small, closed-lip smile he’s missed so much. “Okay. Just a little while.”

***

She’s clutching her mug of tea, telling him about work, and he can’t help but notice how physically straight and formal she is right now. It almost looks like she’s bracing herself, worried the couch is going to trap her somehow, like it’s going to try to bundle her up in his Aztec blanket and hold her there.

Mulder doesn’t like this body language. It looks too much like she doesn’t live here anymore.

“So things are really much the same at Our Lady of Sorrows,” she finishes. “Some good days, some bad.”

“It sounds like overall you’re still satisfied at the hospital then,” Mulder says.

“Yes,” Scully says, nodding. “I’d say that’s accurate. I wouldn’t rule out doing something else someday though.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, Mulder,” she says, another tiny smile. “But you know. You have to stay open to extreme possibilities.”

He returns her smile. “And uh… all the other parts of your life are good, too?” He can’t bear to ask her any more directly than that. He picks up his own mug and takes a sip to give himself something to do.

She bites her bottom lip. “Yes,” she says. “Yes, I have a nice new house. Very contemporary. I get together with friends from work occasionally. I see Mom regularly.”

He wonders what she means by “friends from work.” He knows what it meant back when they were “friends from work.”

“What about you, Mulder?” she asks. “What are you doing these days?”

“I told you,” he says. “I’m reorganizing the library.”

“Besides that.”

I miss you terribly everyday. I spend hours cataloging each one of my mistakes. I ponder all the big questions, like: is there any future where I might be with you again? Is there any alternate reality where I could have made you happy? Is there any world where we have our son and live together as a real family, and that grief that’s always in your eyes isn’t there?

“I write articles,” he says. “I’m thinking about a book.”

“That’s great, Mulder,” she says. Again, that false encouraging tone.

If she still lived here—if she was still his Scully—she would have considerably more to say about these messy piles of books and this aimless underemployment. She would have some dry comment. She would be suggesting constructive ideas. She would be pushing him to do better.

This Scully sounds like a stranger. Like she has no place in his life to have an opinion. Like she has no place in his life to care.

There is an awkward pause.

“Well,” she says. “I think it’s probably time I take off.”

“Oh yeah?” he says. Don’t beg, he tells himself. “You sure?”

“Yes,” she says, looking around for a coaster on the coffee table and setting her mug down. She stands up, smiling courteously. “It’s been very nice catching up with you, Mulder.”

The innocuous sentence hits him like getting socked in the stomach. He feels his face flushing red hot. He swallows, unable to politely respond.

“Okay,” he says, too shortly. He stands, too. “Sure. Ever so nice.”

She’s lifting her coat from the coat rack, but turns around to regard him stoically. She seems to debate asking her next question. “Is there a problem?” she says carefully.

Mulder hesitates. He knows he shouldn’t say anything else. Just let her go. Let the visit end pleasantly. “No,” he says with effort. “I … guess not.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s only …” No. He just can’t hold it in. “Look, I’m sorry,’” he snaps. “It’s just … it’s fucking hard to hear ‘nice catching up with you, Mulder’ come from your lips.”

“It is nice catching up with you.”

“We didn’t used to be people who ever had to catch up,” Mulder says bitterly. “We used to know everything about each other, we used to be everything to each other, and excuse me if I just can’t stand talking to you like we’re old college chums.”

“You invited me to stay and have tea.” Her pitch has dropped a full octave. “You suggested we talk. I was doing what you asked me to do.” Her voice breaks midway through her sentence, and he realizes she’s got tears in her eyes. She closes them, evidently trying to calm herself. “I have to go, Mulder.”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice trembling. “Yeah, okay.”

“I… I’ll see you, all right?” she says, practically a whisper.

“Will you?”

Someday there will be a last time, he thinks. A time visiting him will just be too much trouble. A time she’ll decide her attention is better spent on other things, on other people.

“Of course,” she says. She walks over and picks up her box of bedding. “Of course I will. I always will.”

He watches her turn and hurry out the door. He remains frozen in place near the couch. He doesn’t trust himself to do anything to respond. Not to say good-bye, not to walk with her to the porch, not even to wave. He might do something unbelievably stupid, like tell her he still loves her. Or try to stop her from leaving. Or shout obscenities at her in anger.

Instead, he focuses all of his energy on listening. He listens as her car door opens and closes, her engine starts. There is the rough clatter of her tires down the gravel drive. Faintly, he can hear her car door opening and closing again as she lets herself out the gate and closes it up again. Then finally there is the sound of the motor of her car growing gradually more distant. Far away from him again.

Mulder lets himself sink down again on the couch.

In a flare of angry self-hatred, he kicks the towering pile of novels nearest him. They tumble sloppily into a messy heap on the floor. He watches this destruction morosely and thinks about how good she smelled.

He wishes he’d remembered to wish her a happy birthday.

***

About thirty feet outside, between two bushes, Jackson sits, hugging his knees, his back pressed uncomfortably against the wooden frames of the side of the farmhouse. Between the branches of the bush he has a clear view of the red-headed woman driving away.

It’s not a very good hiding place. All day long, since he arrived this morning, he hasn’t had to worry too much about hiding. The man inside—the man who lives here— has been distracted, concerned about the woman’s visit, thinking almost nonstop about what she’ll say and do. Jackson’s been able to circle around the house cautiously, trying to examine everything with his eyes and with his mind.

Which is good, because he’s nervous.

Just now, if the red-headed woman had looked up towards the house as she rushed out the door—if she’d turned back to give it one last careful look—she’d easily have seen Jackson there, crouched, watching furtively at the side of the house.

But she didn’t look back. Not even once, quickly.

She only wanted to get in her car and go, go, go. Her mind was so loud Jackson didn’t even have to really use his shine. Her mind broadcast inside his brain without him trying at all.

Jackson watches her car closely, holding his breath, until she’s completely driven away, until he can’t see any sign of her car anymore.

She’s pretty, Jackson reflects, even for a mom-aged lady. Her car is nice, fancy, like she’s got some money. And even though she’s not a kid, even though she’s an adult, with an extremely complex mind— it’s easy to know her thoughts. The easiest it’s been for anyone he’s ever met.

What’s really weird, though, is that with her, it’s really more than thoughts. Something strange was happening with Jackson and her feelings, too.

He felt these little explosive bursts of her emotions, wracking his own body unexpectedly like fireworks and then quickly fading. That’s never happened before. It’s interesting, but it’s also upsetting, like having your own emotions pushed aside by someone else. Her feelings fade, but they don’t entirely go away. They leave a kind of residue for a minute or two.

And just now? She was very, very upset, in about fifty different ways Jackson can only barely sort out. She was angry, for one—angry at the man inside for not being fair to her. She was really guilty, hoping she’s doing the right thing by leaving. She was sad, so sad, wishing she could go back inside and be with him again. Jackson wonders why she doesn’t just go back. He felt her wishing hard for something she thinks is gone now. She’s grieving it. Almost like you grieve for parents that have been shot.

And mixed up in all of this, Jackson feels how much she loves the man inside the house. That’s just this big, enormous feeling, like a tsunami of emotion. More than he can cope with, really. It makes his head hurt. He rubs his temples slowly, trying to massage the feeling away.

Jackson knows who the woman is, of course.

He recognizes her, at least her mind. He wonders if that’s why he is able to feel her feelings and see her thoughts so easily.

It feels weird, seeing her. He always thought that if he ever met his birth mom, he’d want to talk to her right away. But he doesn’t have any urge to chase her down the driveway and introduce himself.

He’s just so afraid. It’s hard to understand, because closed adoption or not, he thinks she’d want to talk to him. In his visions, she’s usually calling for him—not his name, but a name he somehow knows is supposed to be him. So he thinks she wants to see him. She seems to want it very badly, at least sometimes.

But what if when she looks at him, it’s with the same huge sadness she’s feeling about this man inside the house? What if it isn’t what he imagines, meeting this woman? He doesn’t want all that right now. He can’t handle it.

Besides, he’s not supposed to see her. That isn’t why he came. She wasn’t the name he was given.

He doesn’t recognize the man inside, the man she fought with a few minutes ago. When he reaches out to poke his shine into this man’s mind, it’s like a forest at night: it’s dark, disorienting, full of paths that lead unknown directions. He sees a few things he understands: the woman’s face, their conversation just now, the man’s devotion to her, his anxieties. But he sees lots he doesn’t understand, too. The man is very complicated. And broken, Jackson thinks. He has cracks that make his thoughts difficult to follow.

He knows the man’s name. Fox Mulder. He wishes he knew more about who he was, exactly.

Because that’s the man he’s supposed to see.

***