afab fine with any pronouns reallyslowly working up the courage to writei go by wolf or cassia i promise i dont bite ;)
150 posts
Vitally-undead - Woof Woof Baby - Tumblr Blog
on the outside looking in
fernando pessoa / october - mary oliver / life on mars - tracy k. smith / walk in the park - beach house / robert goolrick / persephone the wanderer - louise glück / how we fight for our lives - saeed jones / i wrote this for you - ian s. thomas / no longer human - osamu dazai / sedated - hozier
Eggs: don't eat em Steak: Rare Milk: don't drink it (rarely cereal milk)
Alcohol: don't drink it
Warm drink: Coffee sometimes
@mommy-mortis
Very Complex
You hold the fandom record for most angst edits. The fandom is divided over "I can fix them" and "I can make them worse." You have some severe past trauma and are probably queercoded. The writers had a lot of fun giving you more layers than an onion.
@mommy-mortis @tearueful @homelanderbutbig
Thanks for the tag @thelastplantagenet 😊💚
1. Do this uquiz.
2. Do this picrew.
3. Tag people.
feel free to play if you’d like :)
@buncha-angry-kids-with-no-money @thatoneandlonelyemo2005 @with-the-words-all-wrong
Indulge Me (Homelander x Reader Powerswap!au Smut)
18+ | 1.5k words | Pure smut, gender neutral reader, oral sex, lazy blowjob, ball sucking, rimming, begging, overstimulation, come eating, HL!reader, oral fixation | Fic Directory
This is your favorite.
He really was so perfect for you. Indulging this little need of yours, head tipped back on the couch, warm breaths escaping between his parted lips.
Your head rests in his lap while his fingers thread through your hair. It’s how he grounds himself. You know he enjoys this, too. This little… fixation of yours.
You lost track a while ago of how long you’ve been like this. Head turned toward his body as you suckle the head of his limp cock, tongue teasing his foreskin. You can’t recall how many loads you’ve swallowed, but you know he’s dazed and you’re in heaven.
Your own arousal has long since drenched your underwear, but you’ll take care of that eventually.
You roll your tongue lazily over the head, drool spilling down your cheek landing in a dark patch on his pants. He tastes so good, so sweet, and he’s all yours. You roll closer to him, letting his soft cock slip further back your tongue.
The goal was never quite to get him off, but rather to satisfy that little oral fixation of yours. He’d discovered it fairly early on in your relationship. A thumb pressed to your lower lip after a kiss, the digit sucked into your mouth, your eyes glazing over.
John had looked like a deer in headlights, but he went along with it. Pushed and pulled his thumb in and out, soft sighs escaping from him as he imagined how that tongue would feel on his cock.
He took your hand back then. Guided it into his pants, under his cute little briefs, let you grasp and stroke him while you laved over his finger. He ended up lightheaded and had to sit. That was when you, filthy little thing you are, traded his finger for his cock.
You held him in your mouth until your chest was soaked in a slick combination of come and slobber. Even then, you didn’t want to let off.
You feel him grow against your tongue, twitching again after his refractory period passed. He uses his grip in your hair to rock your head gently.
You don’t care. As long as you get what you want.
He pushes until the tip is at your tongue and you wrap your lips around him, sucking gently. Can’t be too careless, can’t hurt him. But you have to have him.
He looks down at you with glassy eyes and red cheeks. His chest heaves, he chews his lip, lets his hands roam.
“Mmm, god, what’d I ever do to deserve you?” He moans. “That’s so– oh, fuck…”
His cock twitches and you roll to swallow more of him. Your tongue travels lazily along the length. You angle your head to catch the bump of the vein that runs on the underside and his hips jerk.
“Hnngh,” he gasps. He’s sensitive, damn near overstimulated. His eyes travel to the window of your penthouse, basking in the beautiful blue sky as you work his cock– but not for too long.
The sight of you is far more gorgeous.
You shift, releasing him to prop yourself on your elbow.
“Pants off,” you tell him.
Without a second of hesitation, he pushes them down to his knees.
“Lay back.”
Once again, John does as you say, kicking his garments away and splaying his legs wide.
Your face is buried against him almost immediately, though this time you take one of his balls in your mouth. You hold it gently, tongue swiping over it in meticulously slow strokes. You taste the salt of his sweat and a flavor that is uniquely his.
You can feel him start stroking himself, his skin moving along with the more aggressive tugs.
He’s a moaning mess above you, but he knows not to come.
Not until your mouth is back around him and he can be savored.
His heel digs into your back and he arches up, pressing his sack against your mouth. He feels your drool slowly dribble down his balls, over his perineum, a small trail painting over his hole.
“Ah, might be a, uh, a weird ask,” he shudders, “your spit feels r-really good when it goes… down there, uh… C-Can you uhm, you know… drool… more?”
You look up at him with a twinkle of amusement in your spaced out eyes. You suck off of his sack with a wet pop, grabbing both of his thighs to push him so that his ass is exposed entirely to you.
“H-Hey!”
You press his thighs to his chest, kneeling before him. You can see the realization in his eyes and it stirs something playful in you. You drop a heaping glob of saliva on his hole before diving in, tongue swirling around the tight muscle. There’s more of an effort here than what you’d been doing before.
He deserves a treat for being so good for you for so long.
Your sweet little Johnny.
He keens below you, hands swatting below his rear to seek any part of you he could grab. Somehow he manages a handful of your cape.
You press your tongue flat against his rim, holding it there to warm him. Your hands move to knead his rear, the globes of his flesh so soft and malleable in your palms.
His whines and whimpers are so sweet, but your name flying off his tongue is by far the most delicious part of it all. He practically screams it when you pierce that tight ring of muscle, tongue wriggling inside.
How fucking amazing to know he was all yours. You could take him apart at your leisure, in any way you want, and he’d always beg for more.
Just like now.
“Ah, please! Please– fuck! Fuck!”
Your little birdie loves to sing for you.
“Oh, god, fuck, can– can I t-touch mys– AH!” He cried out as you pushed your tongue further, slipping out to suck hard on his perineum. “Please, please, oh fuck, please!!”
Your hand slipped around his waist to grasp his cock, squeezing just enough to make his whole body jump. You drag your fist over the length of him torturously slow as you tongue fuck him.
He weeps, begging and pleading.
Through his tears, he tells you how close he is. You angle his body, pointing the tip of his cock right at his mouth.
“Catch it,” you tell him, “but don’t swallow it.”
He nods like the desperate slut he is. Needy for you, needy for all that you’ll give him, starved until he can have it.
You drag your tongue from hole to sack, suckling his flesh and jerking him in three hard pumps that leave him howling an open mouthed moan, ropes of his come painting his face and tongue. You trail back to his hole and dip your tongue inside to feel every pulsation of his glorious release.
He feels his body drop and your tongue is upon his face in a fraction of a second, licking him clean.
He’s pretty sure it’s in his hair, too, but he can’t possibly care about that. Not when your tongue delves between his parted lips to lick everywhere you can possibly reach, desperate for more of his taste.
You’re like an animal starved for something only he can provide.
You press him against the couch, tasting your little pet, savoring his sounds and how they echo inside of you.
He’s so fragile looking when you pull away. He’s been undone and put back together over and over again. So good, so perfect for you.
All for you.
“Good boy, Johnny.” You purr into the shell of his ear.
He arches against you.
“You’re gonna take such good care of me now, right?”
He nods eagerly, nearly rising from the couch if not for your overwhelming strength keeping him in place.
Your hands slip under the hem of his sweater, pushing it up to reveal his nipples. You lean down to tongue over one, fingers finding the other.
“That delicious cock of yours is gonna be ready for me soon, right?” You murmur against his chest. You relish the feeling of his hands in your hair, gripping and tugging.
The thought of more damn near scares him. He’s not sure if he’s got anything left; he might end up shooting dry. Would you be upset that you didn’t get your little treat if that’s all he had?
“You’re gonna fuck me and take such good care of me, baby. I know it.”
You suck his rosy bud into your mouth, smirking at his weak moans.
“My sweet little Johnny…”
ANTONY STARR as HOMELANDER THE BOYS | SO2E02 “Over the Hill with the Swords of a Thousand Men”
Tumblr is really interesting because you can say something like thursday is duck with a top hat day, and half the website will reblog it
100% yes would attend, dressing in all black AND bringing shiny trinkets??? sounds like my kinda party
i would deadass do exactly that, eye contact all the way too
Your first day after joining The Seven you decide to suck and lick on this.
When you finally make eye contact with Homelander, you suck it all the way down to the base, letting the tip hit the back of your throat, then slowly pulling it back out, giving the tip one final lick.
A hummingbird thought a man’s orange hat was a flower [x]
HOMELANDER | S01.E03 / S02.E04 / S02.06 / S03.E07
base on this post by @homeb0ys
Indulge Me (Homelander x Reader Powerswap!au Smut)
18+ | 1.5k words | Pure smut, gender neutral reader, oral sex, lazy blowjob, ball sucking, rimming, begging, overstimulation, come eating, HL!reader, oral fixation | Fic Directory
This is your favorite.
He really was so perfect for you. Indulging this little need of yours, head tipped back on the couch, warm breaths escaping between his parted lips.
Your head rests in his lap while his fingers thread through your hair. It’s how he grounds himself. You know he enjoys this, too. This little… fixation of yours.
You lost track a while ago of how long you’ve been like this. Head turned toward his body as you suckle the head of his limp cock, tongue teasing his foreskin. You can’t recall how many loads you’ve swallowed, but you know he’s dazed and you’re in heaven.
Your own arousal has long since drenched your underwear, but you’ll take care of that eventually.
You roll your tongue lazily over the head, drool spilling down your cheek landing in a dark patch on his pants. He tastes so good, so sweet, and he’s all yours. You roll closer to him, letting his soft cock slip further back your tongue.
The goal was never quite to get him off, but rather to satisfy that little oral fixation of yours. He’d discovered it fairly early on in your relationship. A thumb pressed to your lower lip after a kiss, the digit sucked into your mouth, your eyes glazing over.
John had looked like a deer in headlights, but he went along with it. Pushed and pulled his thumb in and out, soft sighs escaping from him as he imagined how that tongue would feel on his cock.
He took your hand back then. Guided it into his pants, under his cute little briefs, let you grasp and stroke him while you laved over his finger. He ended up lightheaded and had to sit. That was when you, filthy little thing you are, traded his finger for his cock.
You held him in your mouth until your chest was soaked in a slick combination of come and slobber. Even then, you didn’t want to let off.
You feel him grow against your tongue, twitching again after his refractory period passed. He uses his grip in your hair to rock your head gently.
You don’t care. As long as you get what you want.
He pushes until the tip is at your tongue and you wrap your lips around him, sucking gently. Can’t be too careless, can’t hurt him. But you have to have him.
He looks down at you with glassy eyes and red cheeks. His chest heaves, he chews his lip, lets his hands roam.
“Mmm, god, what’d I ever do to deserve you?” He moans. “That’s so– oh, fuck…”
His cock twitches and you roll to swallow more of him. Your tongue travels lazily along the length. You angle your head to catch the bump of the vein that runs on the underside and his hips jerk.
“Hnngh,” he gasps. He’s sensitive, damn near overstimulated. His eyes travel to the window of your penthouse, basking in the beautiful blue sky as you work his cock– but not for too long.
The sight of you is far more gorgeous.
You shift, releasing him to prop yourself on your elbow.
“Pants off,” you tell him.
Without a second of hesitation, he pushes them down to his knees.
“Lay back.”
Once again, John does as you say, kicking his garments away and splaying his legs wide.
Your face is buried against him almost immediately, though this time you take one of his balls in your mouth. You hold it gently, tongue swiping over it in meticulously slow strokes. You taste the salt of his sweat and a flavor that is uniquely his.
You can feel him start stroking himself, his skin moving along with the more aggressive tugs.
He’s a moaning mess above you, but he knows not to come.
Not until your mouth is back around him and he can be savored.
His heel digs into your back and he arches up, pressing his sack against your mouth. He feels your drool slowly dribble down his balls, over his perineum, a small trail painting over his hole.
“Ah, might be a, uh, a weird ask,” he shudders, “your spit feels r-really good when it goes… down there, uh… C-Can you uhm, you know… drool… more?”
You look up at him with a twinkle of amusement in your spaced out eyes. You suck off of his sack with a wet pop, grabbing both of his thighs to push him so that his ass is exposed entirely to you.
“H-Hey!”
You press his thighs to his chest, kneeling before him. You can see the realization in his eyes and it stirs something playful in you. You drop a heaping glob of saliva on his hole before diving in, tongue swirling around the tight muscle. There’s more of an effort here than what you’d been doing before.
He deserves a treat for being so good for you for so long.
Your sweet little Johnny.
He keens below you, hands swatting below his rear to seek any part of you he could grab. Somehow he manages a handful of your cape.
You press your tongue flat against his rim, holding it there to warm him. Your hands move to knead his rear, the globes of his flesh so soft and malleable in your palms.
His whines and whimpers are so sweet, but your name flying off his tongue is by far the most delicious part of it all. He practically screams it when you pierce that tight ring of muscle, tongue wriggling inside.
How fucking amazing to know he was all yours. You could take him apart at your leisure, in any way you want, and he’d always beg for more.
Just like now.
“Ah, please! Please– fuck! Fuck!”
Your little birdie loves to sing for you.
“Oh, god, fuck, can– can I t-touch mys– AH!” He cried out as you pushed your tongue further, slipping out to suck hard on his perineum. “Please, please, oh fuck, please!!”
Your hand slipped around his waist to grasp his cock, squeezing just enough to make his whole body jump. You drag your fist over the length of him torturously slow as you tongue fuck him.
He weeps, begging and pleading.
Through his tears, he tells you how close he is. You angle his body, pointing the tip of his cock right at his mouth.
“Catch it,” you tell him, “but don’t swallow it.”
He nods like the desperate slut he is. Needy for you, needy for all that you’ll give him, starved until he can have it.
You drag your tongue from hole to sack, suckling his flesh and jerking him in three hard pumps that leave him howling an open mouthed moan, ropes of his come painting his face and tongue. You trail back to his hole and dip your tongue inside to feel every pulsation of his glorious release.
He feels his body drop and your tongue is upon his face in a fraction of a second, licking him clean.
He’s pretty sure it’s in his hair, too, but he can’t possibly care about that. Not when your tongue delves between his parted lips to lick everywhere you can possibly reach, desperate for more of his taste.
You’re like an animal starved for something only he can provide.
You press him against the couch, tasting your little pet, savoring his sounds and how they echo inside of you.
He’s so fragile looking when you pull away. He’s been undone and put back together over and over again. So good, so perfect for you.
All for you.
“Good boy, Johnny.” You purr into the shell of his ear.
He arches against you.
“You’re gonna take such good care of me now, right?”
He nods eagerly, nearly rising from the couch if not for your overwhelming strength keeping him in place.
Your hands slip under the hem of his sweater, pushing it up to reveal his nipples. You lean down to tongue over one, fingers finding the other.
“That delicious cock of yours is gonna be ready for me soon, right?” You murmur against his chest. You relish the feeling of his hands in your hair, gripping and tugging.
The thought of more damn near scares him. He’s not sure if he’s got anything left; he might end up shooting dry. Would you be upset that you didn’t get your little treat if that’s all he had?
“You’re gonna fuck me and take such good care of me, baby. I know it.”
You suck his rosy bud into your mouth, smirking at his weak moans.
“My sweet little Johnny…”
ANTONY STARR as HOMELANDER THE BOYS | SO2E02 “Over the Hill with the Swords of a Thousand Men”
reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something
you can't give me shit for wanting homelander so bad okay the man literally moans when you put your fingers in his mouth like what more could you POSSIBLY want
*said with barely contained lust* god that guys a fucking freak
Homelanders legs over your shoulders your head buried between his thighs.
thats it.
site that you can type in the definition of a word and get the word
site for when you can only remember part of a word/its definition
site that gives you words that rhyme with a word
site that gives you synonyms and antonyms
Reblog if you think a woman can be complete without children
Y’ALL HAVE TIME TO REBLOG THIS. IT TAKES LESS THAN FIVE SECONDS.
Can you do something for me, please?
I want you to reblog this if you believe that two people can be very close and physically affectionate with one another, but still have a completely nonsexual, non-romantic relationship.
Even if the two people in question are capable of being sexually or romantically attracted to one another.
Because the friendship I share with someone I consider family in a way that transcends blood has been typecast as a romantic relationship ENTIRELY too many times, and I’m beginning to get sick of it.
The Music Of Your Heart (G/T Homelander x Reader)
1971 words. Hurt/comfort, and some fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.
You help Homelander when he's dissociating.
Made as part of the Cozy Corner Domaystic event put together by @cozycornerevents, using prompt #7 "thunderstorm" and the alternative prompt "are you coming to bed".
This is a big step in your relationship, you're officially moving into Homelander's penthouse. Before today, you've just been visiting him at his place after work and then he flies you back to your house at night. You were worried that such a big change in his routine would be a source of stress for him, but he was insistent that he was ready. He loves you, and there's nothing more that he could do to prove his commitment than inviting you into his home.
It's late in the evening, and you're busy unpacking your clothes in his bedroom. All he has to wear is his suit, so the rest of the closet space is just for you. Looking around the room, you sigh at the multitudes of mirrors and the tall windows surrounding the bed. You have no idea how on earth you're going to be able to fall sleep tonight, with nothing to block the glow of the frequent lightning strikes from the raging thunderstorm outside.
Once everything is put away, you finally realize that Homelander hasn't come in to check on you since you've been in the bedroom. It's not like him; usually he's following you around like a lovesick puppy, just perpetually happy to be in your presence.
"Are you coming to bed?" you call out to him. Considering that he could hear a pin drop from across the city, you are a bit perplexed as to why he doesn't respond.
When you walk back into the living room, your mood instantly drops at the sight of him. He's sitting perfectly still in the middle of the couch, hands fidgeting in his lap as he stares blankly into space. You don't know exactly what set him off, but he's in a deep dissociative state. His chest is tight, his jaw is tense, his vision is blurred, his ears are ringing. He is encased in a cocoon shielding him from the outside world, from reality.
He is lost in his head with no way out.
Walking up to the couch, you carefully slide up onto the cushion to sit next to him. You find it helps to be as slow as possible when you have to coax him out of this headspace, and let him take it as his own tempo. Gently, you reach over and place your hand on his thigh. It's enough to take Homelander by surprise, causing him to jerk his head down as he stares at you with wide-eyed confusion. He doesn't have any idea of how much time has passed; he didn't even notice that you sat down beside him.
"Hey, hey," you comfort him, pressing down into his suit's padding. "It's just me. Everything's alright big boy, I'm here."
Your compassionate smile and loving touch is enough to ease his startled nerves. He envelops your hand in his hold, stroking your wrist with his large thumb. Offering your hand is just one of the little things you do to help him self-soothe, giving him a better alternative than to just fiddle mindlessly with his fingers. There is something so grounding for him, just to be able to feel you.
Tears begin to form in the corners of his eyes as he comes to terms with what set him off. Homelander had happened to catch a glimpse of himself in one of the many mirrors in his penthouse, coming face-to-face with his 'friend'. Although this companion, his reflection, helped him get through the horrors of his upbringing and guarded him from his traumatic memories, he's stayed alongside him even after he fulfilled his purpose. And instead of protecting him, he has taken on the voices of those who hurt him. He wants to keep him isolated from the rest of the world, from those who are beneath his god-like status. From those who would get close to him, and make him weak with human emotions.
His counterpart only needed a second to coil his tendrils around him, to remind him of what you are. A mere human, a puny ant so insignificant to him. You do not deserve to live here, in his palace. You should not even be dating him. You must be removed from his life. He must kill you.
He provoked and provoked, until Homelander's brain had no other option than to detach from reality, completely pushing out the fact that you were waiting for him in the bedroom. That you, the love of his life, were worried for his wellbeing and concerned that he may not be able to handle you moving in with him. Of course you were right. He couldn't just be 'normal', nothing ever went smoothly for him.
He is a monster incapable of love.
The tears flow more freely as the weight of his failure crashes down onto him, the turbulent waves from this self-deprecating ocean hammering him with guilt. He feels so ashamed of himself that he can't even bear to look at you. Hell, he can't even speak to you right now. His mind is still choked by a thick fog, cutting him off from making his mouth form any semblance of words.
Hyperventilating, he feels himself becoming overwhelmed by his heightened senses. His eyes are pained from the bright lights on his ceiling and the constant flashes of lightning overtaking his windows. His ears are flooded by multitudes of excruciating sounds coming from the rest of Vought Tower. Every miniscule hum from the building's power grid reverberates loudly through his skull, like a jackhammer breaking apart concrete.
There is just too much going on around him, things that he cannot control.
You can see Homelander falling deeper into his distress, and you know that he needs your help immediately. Luckily, you were able to slip your hand from his grasp before he started clenching them into anxious fists. Maneuvering yourself onto his lap, you cup his big head in your palms to redirect his train of though back to you.
"It's okay sweetheart, it's okay," you console him, lightly caressing his cheeks. "Let's take a moment together, alright? Just close your eyes and breathe along with me."
He shuts his eyes tight and does his best to follow along with you. However, it's pretty obvious by his pained expression that he's having trouble letting go. Something is still crowding his mind.
"Is it too loud?" you question, watching him with the utmost sympathy. Although he can't find it in him to speak right now, he gives you a shaky nod.
"Let's try and focus on some nice sounds right now," you suggest, angling yourself closer so you can press your chest into his head. The wetness from his tears drenches through your shirt, but that is the least of your concerns right now. "Try and concentrate on my heartbeat while you breathe with me, okay? In… and out. In… and out."
It takes him a bit of time, but like magic, you can feel the tension gradually drain from his body. His breathing is steadying, and his brows are no longer etched with stress. Your heart is the only sound that can bring Homelander back from the brink of despair. He doesn't even understand it himself; all he knows is it's the only sound he ever seeks out. Wherever he may be, when he hears your pulse he knows that everything is fine. That you are alive, and that you love him.
Delicately, he lifts his hands to spread them across your back, keeping you propped up in his lap to nuzzle ever so slightly closer into you. He melts further into your elegant touch, doing everything you ask of him, giving you the reins to control a god. Something that his reflection would be pissed about, but he doesn't hear that voice right now. All that echoes through his mind is the voice of his inner child. The boy that was denied affection his whole life, and who is now finally having his basic needs met… because of you.
"That's it, just like that. Nice and easy," you praise him, pressing your forehead into his to nuzzle your noses. "You're doing so good honey. I'm so proud of you".
Homelander's body has practically become Play-Doh as he leans his full body weight back into the couch. You can hear him making quiet noises as you comb your fingers through his undercut, purring with each scratch of his scalp.
The calamity is over.
"I've always liked rainy days like this," you say softly. "Listening to the rain drops hitting the window so rhythmically, the sounds of thunder rumbling across the sky… I just find it so relaxing, don't you?"
To be honest, he doesn't. With his sensitive hearing, every individual pellet of water sounds like it's hitting his window panes with the force of a gun shot. Rainy days like this are nothing more than an annoyance. But what is relaxing to him, is you. Homelander closes his eyes and nudges his face into your chest, allowing himself to be submersed with the music of your heart and breath. The melodies of you are the only thing he needs for calming white noise.
"Why don't we go to bed?" you ask, knowing that it's gotten quite late since this ordeal started. However, you notice him immediately tense from this suggestion, anxiety slowly creeping back into his body. Just having you stay the night for the first time is scary enough, he doesn't even want to think about you sleeping beside him in his bed. What if he rolls over onto you?
"Let's just sleep on the couch tonight," you tell him, still running your nails along his hair. "We don't have to worry about anything else right now. This evening was a bit rough, but it will get better."
"…P-promise?" you here him mumble faintly as he tilts his head up to meet your gaze. His eyes are swarming with hesitancy, yet display an incredible shimmer of trust. Deep down he already knows the answer, he just needs to be reassured.
"Of course I promise," you respond, kissing him on the forehead. With a heavy sigh of relief, he is placated by only those four words. It really doesn't take much for you to ease his troubles; it always surprises him that you aren't secretly a supe yourself, with these powers you have over him.
He encompasses your waist around his hands, keeping you on top of him as he lies down on the couch. It's not the most comfortable position for him to fall asleep, but it helps when he feels you crawl up to wrap your arms around his ample shoulders and snuggle your head into the nape of his neck. You might be a lot smaller than him, but you always make him forget his size with the little ways you love him.
"Goodnight Homelander," you yawn as you close your eyes. You can feel him rest one of his arms across your back, returning the favour for your dainty pets with his long fingers.
"Goodnight… I… I-I love you," he whispers shyly.
"Love you too big guy," you chuckle, kissing his neck. He can't help but smile at that, reciprocating with a kiss on the top of your head.
You are both pretty exhausted from your eventful evening, and it's pretty easy for you to fall asleep on your padded supe pillow while listening to the sounds of rain. For him, all he needs is to listen for your heart. The only sound on this planet that can break through his dissociation and pacify his inner child. The beautiful hum that reminds him he doesn't need to put on a façade around you, because you love him for the real him that he hides from everyone, including himself.