Taking Someone's Cigarette Out Of Their Mouth: Multiple Meanings - Used A Lot In Media To Convey Control,

Taking someone's cigarette out of their mouth: Multiple meanings - used a lot in media to convey control, power play, very masculine, I'm your boss and this is mine now, get over it. Mildly flirty, look at me, all in your space and shit, seductive. You're not allowed to smoke, because I say so.

Putting the cigarette back in their mouth afterwards: Ground-breaking. Would be less erotic to just fuck honestly. Who does this?

If you don’t mind another request, could you do a (junkpit) Godseeker??

godseeker!! i like her design very much :))

“I would die for you.”

“Yeah, but you won’t shut up for me, will you?”

☕ (My Harry & your Kim)

Send me “ ☕ “ for my muse to drink tea uniquely flavored after your muse, and I’ll tell you what my muse tastes! // accepting!

When the thermos is passed, Kim is dubiously hesitant to sip its contents. Glances spared into the dark metal container where a thousand tiny lights reflect back up at him off the angles of glitter that seem to consume the liquid, bouncing off the sharp lines of his glasses, highlighting the ridges of his face; cheekbone meeting upper-eye meeting the crease of his nose between. He questions, and the answer he receives is likely as inane but incredulously trustworthy ━ which is to say, only Kim would trust it ━ and he is prodded to drink. A sigh, a murmuring of If you're trying to poison me, at least have an alibi… before it's raised like a chalice to the lips and, tentatively, he drinks.

He swears the glitter clogs his through the moment he does, and he chokes. ( although, the choking may not all be from the glitter. ) Like congealed blood, glitter clinging, he can feel the pieces cut micro-ribbons of flesh down his esophagus as it slides down in a wet mass, leaving behind it a terrible feeling of glitter lining the space between his lungs down, down, down. The taste is indescribable ━ sharp and salty and sweet and bitter and tangy all at once, apricots and rotten fruit and alcohol, the taste of sweat and iron and cinnamon, unpleasantly cold at first which becomes kinder as it soothes the roughness of the throat's wounds before the heat hits the way habanero in coffee does. like dark chocolate, like stale cake frosting, like pleasantly unpleasant soreness, sweet-sour wine, cloying cheap children's medicine, nausea-inducing cigarette smoke.

Indescribable the way cubic measurements of atmosphere containing updraft are indescribable, not indescribable the way metrics too large and too small become nothing. indescribable like space, like music, like sea.

Like God, he thinks, like Innocence. he corrects; Like God. Like Pale. Innocence is a dead language they've been trying to read, and neither of them, neither of them, were born enough to be that again. But maybe they were, once. Like Pale. Like dreaming. Like oblivion. ( Apricots still linger in it like fruit floating on saltwater, fermenting on waves, cracked wide as geodes and spilling guts, spilling light. Beneath it is an oil spill 300 kilometers long from a model of motor carriage that has not been made since the day he was born, mingling, separate, beneath, above. Like tainting it, like swallowing it whole, like becoming more by virtue of what he gives, by no virtue at all. ) Like God, he thinks, like Innocence.

Kitsuragi's composure returns to him, and with the embarrassment of a freshman being handed a drink he couldn't handle, he screws the thermos shut again, and passes it back with the more guttural-than-usual sound of clearing his throat. He pulls off a glove and swipes the flesh of a hand over his mouth, bottom lip coated in the shine of something like lip-gloss beneath the chunky square glitter clinging to it. Stubbornly, pieces remain regardless of how hard he scrubs it away, caught in the cracks between lips, before he sighs, slips a glove back on, and resolves to chew on the skin for the rest of the day, if only to hide it, until he can attempt to better extract it somewhat mournfully with the bristles of a toothbrush. A small part of him asks him to let it stay, and the rest of him refuses. A moments consideration, but little else ━ at least for now, anyway, at least for now.

As the flavor lingers on his tongue like an unwelcome guest, progressively, it shifts. never does it lose the sharpened edges, the quality of chaos, the almost fermented kind of age & simultaneous unblended freshness to it, all mixed together and separate all at once, but over time it mellows, perhaps, or maybe Kim just gets used to it. the acidic highs mesh better with the taste of artificial fruit and the heat lends itself as he considers it to the taste of cheap coffee and dark chocolate. grape sugar with the salt and bitter not better but a different taste than they would be alone, iron manageable with the undertone of something other than the blood ━ maybe it becomes more palatable the longer its in his mouth, accustomed like an acquired taste king of all acquired tastes, or maybe it just burns itself out the longer it's left to mix with something other than itself. Saliva like a neutralizer to however many medications he can feel, chalky, on the underside of his tongue.

The heat subsides and the bitterness erodes, slowly and fast all at once, and a smoother kind of flavor emerges from beneath all of it. soft lime and distant haze of honey and a kind of watered down cocktail, no longer sharp with alcohol, but cold anyway. like something hidden, like something suffocated, like something that couldn't afford to come out unless it knew, really knew, it wasn't going to be rejected. the craze of the rest does not die, but the aftertaste offers a different kind of kindness, like hangover medication after a bad night. charcoal pill, cool water, dimmed lights. ( acts of love, acts of not wanting to see someone dear in pain, acts of staying with them; staying with them; regardless of how wretched they were the night before. people cant get that sad, she said to you once, or you thought she did, but people will love you enough to kneel at your bedside and hold your sweaty hand and close the blinds so the world can't see you for just a little while more. people will love you and be loved and try to save you, and maybe you cannot be saved, no one can, there is no messiah waiting at the foot of your bed to cure you, the world just doesn't work like that, and you can't keep waiting for it, but people will love you enough to wash the stains out from your favorite shirt so you can keep it a little longer.

people who bring cold cloths when you are sick and sweet coffee when you need something to keep you warm, people who can't save you but can in the same strokes; where it's not saving you, it's giving you the means to save yourself. people who work you through it as you lift the stones you're building castles out of, hoping, praying that you don't smash them down again. people who stand proud for you at the checkmarks in the road, and tell you that you're doing good, and wait for you when you can't keep running, or even when you turn back and decide it's easier to give up than to sink in deeper. people you've treated bad before, and cannot stay forever, and cannot save you, but they love you enough to stay a little longer. they love you enough to hold you when you need it, and hold you down when you need that too, and make the hard calls you'll hate them for. they love you hard enough that it turns into hate when it's fed the wrong things, giving dogs chocolate, but they love you, love you, love you. )

it soothes pain of his throat, and Kim does not concede to the fact he finds himself wanting another sip, another shot of chaos and that sweeter smoother aftertaste, knowing what he's putting in his body and deciding to come back anyway, wondering, but he admits; quietly to himself as he holds the pieces of glitter in his hands like the shed skin of a disco ball in his little bathroom in the Whirling that night; that maybe the pain is worth the reward. that maybe he's crazy, but maybe they both need a little sanity, a little less, a little something else.

( kneeling at your bedside when you are too afraid to sleep, he traces the scars nickering your hands, and cleans his glasses, and slowly; slowly; the apricots stop mattering. as you notice a little more how the oil spill gleams on the crest of waves, as the oil spill becomes something different. )

-100 HP. +660 HP.

♡ // for Yusuke and Akechi~ c;

Send me a ♡ plus a ship and I'll tell you... // always accepting!

WHO ASKED WHO OUT FIRST? ━ Honestly? it depends! Akechi is very much someone to take initiative and roles of leadership in many areas, personal included, but he's also EXTREMELY adverse to Fully allowing himself to break the distance he always puts between himself and others & as a result allow them to Know him beneath the masks he wears and the way he Wishes to be presented and the way he Is in a very genuine, raw sense. he is raw meat when you remove the skin and as much as it's honest, it's also sometimes ugly, sometimes it's volatile. he doesn't want to tie himself to someone who becomes an obligation he must mask himself to rather than an individual he's forged a connection with and can drop that false disposition, even slightly, with. He doesn't expect to be able to fully, and frankly I don't know if that's more Yusuke or Akechi restraining himself, but even slightly is something unparalleled to him. Akechi has more than enough nerve and articulation but it depends on how Yusuke responds for him to use any of it and lower himself from the distance he tries to keep to meet him on truly equal footing.

it'd also take Akechi coming to terms of an admission of his sexuality and therefore offering a direct 'crack' in his facade that, while maybe not major to others as individuals who are meant to be considered his friends ( and most of them probably Also queer, even if canon doesn't Say as much ) and the fact sexualities can change and often do over time, IS major to Akechi who often labels himself ━ knowingly incorrect ━ as straight to appear what is Expected of him in every avenue. 'appealing' isn't the right word, too sickly sweet of a term for this, but it's the closest I can think of when Akechi's domain is dominated by namely older individuals and a social norm based in homophobia where you are simply expected to be straight and if you are not it is expected to be secret, you as a person and you on the screen as two different people who should never clash and hell breaks loose when someone finds something they shouldn't and it does.

even in instances of this world where this Isn't true and Japan is much more accepting or where homophobia is just simply ignored, Akechi will always feel as though he must be either private ( always fun, always coy, always 'can you figure me out?' more than an actual right to his own secrets, always like a game he's playing with the audience that isn't one at all ) or performative, and the concept of directly admitting the contrary to someone, even unspoken, is difficult and daunting for him. Akechi wants to appear the 'nicest' option to those in his field and his fans, but part of this is also the fear of information being used against him. the question is ━ do i trust Yusuke enough to keep my secrets even when i want this? i may love him, but is it worth breaking the act for? breaking character? how much does this person mean to me, and is it enough? love and trust are two separate ideas, levels, 'love' being a foreign concept to him, and he must ask if they are cause enough to risk his person for. if he decides that 'yes, it's enough', then the decision, the asking is a quiet one, but one that cannot be stopped. Akechi has always been a stubborn, dedicated person when he sets his mind to something he so deeply believes as truth. Yusuke, on the other-hand, i think could be much more direct about it! after THREE PARAGRAPHS of me writing about how fucking complicated it'd be for Akechi where a solid 99% of it is ENTIRELY internal and HALF subconscious!!!!! Yusuke feels to me as a very withdrawn quiet character in a way, shy, which would probably make it harder but he feels as though he could ask much faster than Akechi could. Akechi takes months upon months of small moments reaffirming trust and reinstating a belief that Yusuke is worth this trust where he whittles down the distance despite how uncomfortable it makes him, and while I don't know what Yusuke could take, Yusuke always struck me as a honest, if romantic person. he doesn't need less, but I think he might trust Akechi more. the thought more approachable; he does, of course, perhaps have less to lose WHO WENT IN FOR THE FIRST KISS? ━ AKECHI. honestly it's extremely likely and i wouldn't be shocked at all if THIS was how Akechi wound up 'confessing' or 'asking Yusuke out'. Akechi is a very thoughtful, complicated individual but he's also very impulsive at times and while he has SO much strategy in Everything he does, he flips between intense self━restraint and intense, overwhelming, impulsiveness and sometimes, a lot of the time honestly especially where the metaverse is involved ( and Yusuke as a result since! well! he's part of the fucken phantom thieves! ) that side of him wins. in particular, I like to think it happened somewhere secluded at perhaps a holiday party when one of them stepped away, potentially Akechi, and the other found them, or late in the evening after a long night of spending time together; perhaps initially with the entire group before everyone went home and it was left as just the two of them, going home, the subway station almost ghost-like with them as the only people left there at such an hour, and either of how those quiet moments can invoke such a sense of disregard to caution when there is nothing left but conversation and opportunity, waiting to be taken to see what happens. AAAND that's as far as I can go without Tunglr LITERALLY refusing to post the damn thing so WOE google doc in the source it is

// dyn. tag dump! @tenebriism // @gldhte // @theyrots // @cardedsoul

━ ♔ Every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside / We'd sit back and watch the world go by ━ SANS/O’DELLE: theyrots

━ ♔ Just believe me when I say / I mean no harm; open arms; I will keep you safe until you / Pass me the knife ━ AKECHI/YUSUKE: tenebriism

━ ♔ Silver; crystal; carousel your effervescent touch / But everybody knows that home is where your teeth sink love ━ BILLY/STU: cardedsoul

━ ♔ After the foxes have known our taste; After the raven has had his say; I'd be home with you / I'd be home with you ━ LINK/GAIA: gldhte