#200 followers gift

[lifelikesimz]

😈🍆

[sailorjojogames]

FLO in the studio.

THANK YOU ALL FOR 200 FOLLOWERS !! I REALLY APPRECIATE YOU GUYS. 💕

To say thank you, I have a gift !! I made the FLO album and song covers in the sims 4 as a poster .

This is my first time making cc... so any feedback or tips are welcomed.

Pack needed - Dine Out

FLO poster (SimFileShare)

Recording Studio (Post and Download links)

Many Thanks to all the talented cc creators 💕

🌳 // Tumblr // Tiktok // Instagram // Twitter // Twitch // Youtube 

[grassbreads]

I’d love to know about Yulma and how important it is to representation in shounen manga

This has been sitting in my askbox for a couple months (because I am incapable of punctuality), but anon sent this to me back when I was talking about Yulma over on my vnc blog. For those unaware, Yulma refers to Yu Kanda and Alma Karma from the manga D.Gray-man.

So the thing is, to be honest, I don't know if you can say Yulma is/was important for representation. They don't tend to get brought up as an example of representation (except by diehard d.gray-man fans like me, lol) in shonen, and their whole thing is complicated enough that I feel like the queerness of it all flies over a lot of people's heads.

However! They're very important to me personally, and I do think it's kind of remarkable their story came out in like 2010. Because even though their queerness gets overlooked a lot, it's like. really there no matter how you interpret it.

The short version of their very complicated story is that Kanda and Alma are a couple who were resurrected into new bodies. Alma was a woman when they were originally together in their past lives, but is physically male in the present. Kanda is still very much in love with them by the end of their story, which, depending on the reading, makes Kanda very bi and/or Alma very trans.

This sound like something you want details on? If so, let's talk about how D.Gray-man's fan favorite edgy badass toughguy character briefly became the star of his very own heart-wrenching tragic queer romance.

Here's a brief crash course in Yu Kanda and Dgm for the uninitiated:

D.Gray-man is a manga about a group of exorcists (in the loosest and most anime sense of the term) in the 1890s fighting a holy war against mechanical demons powered by the souls of the dead. There are two things you need to understand about this plot for me to explain Yulma:

The Black Order, the secret branch of the church that exorcists work for, has a long history of committing horrific human experiments to further the war effort.

Due to complications of world building, only a tiny number of people can become exorcists, and tracking down new ones is extremely difficult.

Yu Kanda is one of the exorcists, and though not the actual main character (that's the lad in my icon), he's a very important secondary character. Arguably he's the most important secobdary character, since he's the main guy's biggest foil and the first character to play deuteragonist in a major story arc. He's also a huge fan favorite. The character popularity polls that Jump used to do always had him and the mc going back and forth over who won #1 most popular.

Kanda was also a classic edgy toughguy character. His first two scenes are him almost murdering the main guy because he thinks he's an intruder, then complaining about people grieving for their friend too loudly. He never smiles. He argues with the righteous mc about wasting time/energy protecting civilians. He threatens (and delivers) violence on anyone that annoys him. He looks like this:

TLDR; Kanda was an adored-by-fans mean badass archetype in a 2000s shonen manga. Not generally the guy you peg for starring in a piece of queer romantic storytelling.

And for the entirety of the original anime adaptation's 103 episode run, for the first 188ish chapters of the manga, you do not learn a single thing about his early life. You learn he joined the Black Order very young, and you meet the mentor that took him in at that point, but although there are little hints, a couple cryptic mentions of him searching for a certain person, his early origins remain a complete black box.

Then came the Alma Karma arc.

This is the point where I start getting into spoilers.

To make a very long story short, the Alma Karma arc reveals that Kanda is one of the Black Order's human experiments. The Order ran a secret project 9ish years before the start of the series in which they essentially tried to re-use dying exorcists (since finding new ones is so hard). They took the bodies of dying or recently deceased exorcists and harvested their brains, implanting those brains into new magically grown child bodies.

Key to this project—the second exorcist project—is that these newly grown second exorcists were not supposed to remember anything from their previous lives. Kanda, however, recovered a few hazy memories from his past self. Most importantly, he can recall an unclear image of the woman that his past self was in love with. This memory gradually becomes Kanda's reason to live. He wants desperately to find and meet that person.

Now, aside from Kanda, there was one other successfully revived second exorcist. This was a boy named Alma Karma.

Over the course of their brief shared childhood, Kanda and Alma become extremely close. However, due to a series of horrible events that I'll spare you the details of, Alma is eventually driven to murder-suicide. He wants himself and Kanda to die together to spite the Order, and Kanda almost lets him do it.

The one thing that keeps Kanda from letting Alma kill him, the thing that drives him instead to kill Alma, his most beloved and only friend, is that he can't bear to die without finding that woman again.

Have you figured out the twist yet?

9 years later, in the present, Kanda discovers that he didn't actually quite kill Alma. The Order kept Alma secretly half-alive in order to do more dubious experiments. And, more importantly, when they meet again, Kanda discovers the truth. The woman that he's been searching for his whole life, the woman he's in love with, the woman he tried to kill Alma in order to find, was also killed and made into a second exorcist. And her brain was placed into the body of Alma Karma.

After quite a lot more violence and tragedy, Kanda and Alma end their story arc by running away together on their deathbeds. Alma dies, for real this time, in Kanda's arms, and his last words are to tell Kanda he loves him. These words are presented as something Kanda hears from both the boy and woman versions of Alma's soul.

So! At the end of a very long and complicated story, one thing holds true: Kanda and Alma are in love. As passed down from their past selves, they are specifically in romantic love. They were a couple. And to speak as a fan, the sheer absolute devotion to how Kanda's love for Alma is presented is seriously intense and moving.

Now, given the absolute hell that is Alma's life, gender identity is frankly the last thing they have time to worry about, so it's hard to say how the whole "literally a woman's brain in a male body" thing might have settled for them if given time to think about it. But that is inherently a pretty trans narrative. And given the whole Alma gender situation, there's simply no reading of their whole situation where neither of them is queer.

If you take present day Alma as a guy, which is more or less how he's presented in canon (though again, who knows how he would've felt about that male body in different circumstances), then congratulations! You've got mlm in your shonen manga. They were straight in a different life, but now one of them's a dude, and they are still deeply in love with each other. They've even got not one but two "let's forget it all and run away together" scenes, just as every mlm couple seems to have.

On the other hand, if you go with the angle that Alma's still a woman based on her mind/soul, even in her new body, then Kanda may not be canonically queer, but Alma is inarguably trans. Again, literally a woman's brain in a male body. It may not be how most people end up trans, but that doesn't change the facts of her situation.

You see what I mean about how they're undeniably queer, but also kind of easy to miss? There's so much other insane shit going on in their story that Alma's whole gender situation can get passed over. Plus, you can look online to this day and find people arguing that Kanda's not "technically" explicitly in love with the present day male version of Alma, since he doesn't 100% unambiguously say as much. I love reading comprehension.

Also! As a possible extra reason for why people don't talk about them much, the official English translation of the manga translated Alma's final "I love you" very differently. There's always a lot of nuance and argument when it comes to translating "大好き" into English, but given the full context of their relationship and the scene it's in, Viz's handling really sets off the censorship bells in my head.

Here's the different versions (Japanese then fan then official), if you want to compare:

Nothing more classically queer than censorship by way of questionable translation 🙃.

At the end of the day, Kanda and Alma are in kind of a strange middle ground. They're each in love with the other one, but the whole second exorcist brain transfer situation makes it complicated enough that people argue their feelings aren't explicitly romantic (and thus not gay) in the present. Alma is literally a woman's brain implanted in a male body, but we don't have time to dwell on the gender complications of all that because of the hell that is the rest of their life. They're canon but not canon—queer people whose stories don't have space for them to be queer.

However, given that all this messy, tragic ambiguity was published in a fairly popular shonen manga back in 2010, it still feels kind of remarkable to me. Alma is somewhat an antagonist (it's complicated), and he dies at the end of his arc, but once again, Kanda was/is the fan favorite! And when he re-enters the main story after Alma's death, he's more important than he's ever been, and his history with Alma continues to be a huge part of his character.

Katsura Hoshino took the much-beloved edgy toughguy character from her long-running shonen series and, after keeping his origins secret for such a long time, confirmed that his whole life has revolved around love this entire time. Almost every facet of his character can be traced back to his love for his lost best friend or his yearning for his past life's missing partner. And then she reveals that the best friend and the partner are one and the same.

You can go back and forth about the degree to which they work as representation, but in any case, I think their story is something people ought to know about. It's romantic and it's heart-wrenching and it's fucking wild, especially given the context in which it was published (a Shonen Jump spinoff in 2010). I never see anyone besides the few remaining hardcore dgm fans talk about them, and I think that's a shame.

So anyway, that's tale of one of the most insanity-inducing romances I've ever seen put to paper. I love queer people.

Here's some choice pages if you want to cry with me (the last two are a sequence):

[mishantics]

request !! KAORU HAKAZE !! ENSEMBLE STAR !! hi meeks btw <3

He is so babygirl

[bp-zb1fics]

My heart keeps on

pairing: na kamden x secret s/o reader

pronouns: none used

genre: canonverse  (finale), angst ish, fluff

tw/tags: long distance relationship, very emo in general, a lot of tears LIKE A LOT, you surprise kamden twice, citing ep 12 as my ref for all this, kinda secret relationship, realities of dating a trainee/idol, reunions so more emo, cuddles, cheek kissing, using a pic as a page break, yes the title is fr kam’s rap in switch ty for noticing 💜

wc: 2178

summary: kamden hasn’t seen you in over a year. you surprise him.

a/n this was supposed to be a gift fic for 101 followers but y'all are 200 now 😭😱 omg so thanks so much for supporting my little blog!!! I know this took a little longer than expected so thanks so much for patiently waiting! 💜Special thanks to the anon who sent me an ask about missing kamden and especially to @seok02 for giving me the motivation to finish this fic and kinda just helping me with the overall process 💜💜💜

check my pinned for more fics!

“Star Creator, we always thank you and love you!”

They wrap up the pajama party livestream, thanking the staff and staying to chat as the cameras are switched off. (Or so they think, lol)

“The vibe was pretty good,” Kamden tells Matthew. The other boy agreeing instantly.

“I think we were able to show new sides of ourselves.”

Suddenly the staff play a recording, surprising them all. It’s video messages from Star creators all over the world for them to watch. Kamden grabs a fluffy pillow as he watches everyone slowly get emotional. Seungeon cries. Zhang Hao cries. Yujin cries. Almost everyone is crying. 

Kamden gets a message from a fan in Norway, which is pretty cool. Then, something he never expected happens. He recognises your voice before he even realises it’s you.

“Kamden, annyeong~”

The pillow falls off his lap.

It’s you. It’s really you. You who he hasn’t been able to video call in a few days because of practice and your schedule and the time difference. He almost calls out your name but it sits tight in his throat, unable to reach you. 

You’re on screen, wearing one of the shirts you’ve stolen from him, holding onto the plushie he bought for you at that silly little shop after you insisted it looked like him. God, he hasn’t seen you in over a year.

“Dude, you okay?” Jay asks him softly.

He must look like an idiot, eyes blown wide, mouth slightly open, hanging onto every word that comes out of your mouth.

“I’ve been watching Boy’s Planet since the teasers were released. And you’ve always been my favourite.”

Kamden knows. You’ve been spamming your chat with him with all these little clips from the PR videos to the behind the scenes footage. Screenshots of you voting for him on the Mnet+ app, comments you’ve left on his fancam videos, even the funny memes you found of him on Twitter all greet him when he opens his phone after practice.

Hope my favourite trainee is doing well and staying healthy! Take care of yourself and know I’m always rooting for you! I love and miss you so much! Hoping for your debut!

Your messages are his favourite. And speaking of:

“I’ve made a little compilation of photos right here. I hope you like how I decorated them, I really tried my best~”

All the trainees ooh and ahh over the handmade album you bring up to the screen compiled with photos of him from the program and cute little notes and stickers. Kamden can’t move, can’t talk. 

Because that’s your album, the one you had insisted on starting when he and you began dating. He knows that if you flipped to the other pages, it would be full of photos of both of you, dates, anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, awards that either of you might have won, events that were important to you or him or both of you, everything carefully labelled. It was one of your favourite things to print out all the photos and he’d help you decorate them.

He can’t believe you kept that up after he left for Korea.

“You’ve stood out to me in every performance. You’re so talented and so many people are cheering you on so please remember to have confidence in yourself.” Your voice wavers a little towards the end of the sentence and as slight as it is, he catches that. He knows you.

Kamden only registers the wetness on his cheeks when the tears are already going, fast and furious. He reaches up, trying to dab them away gently with his sleeve. On screen, you blink rapidly and he knows you’re trying your best not to cry either. Even thousands of miles away, on a video you probably recorded weeks ago, you and him are still in sync. Maybe the rest of the trainees don’t see it but he does. Of course he does.

“I hope you take care of yourself always. Make sure to eat enough and get enough rest. I’ll be voting for you everyday so just do your best in practice and performing and us Star Creators will take care of the rest. We’ll support you so you can achieve your dream of debuting~”

To everyone else, you were just a particularly supportive fan. But to Kamden, you were his person, the one he was devoted to and he can’t help it, sobbing a little into his sleeve. Several pats on the back as the other trainees around him try to comfort him. He can’t help but cry even more. Why were you so far away? Why couldn’t you be here where he could hug you and kiss you and just be with you?

“Na Kamden hwaiting! Saranghae~”

That’s it. He turns and buries his face fully into his hands as if doing that would soak up all the tears that won’t stop coming. Matthew and Jay have scooted over, voices overlapping as they rub his shoulders and back and ask what’s wrong. Even Zhang Hao’s hovering a little on the side, equally concerned.

Maybe he’ll say something later, when there are no mics and no cameras. He’s been training for years and you’ve both agreed that in a career like the one he aspires to get into, keeping it quiet would be the best. Idols don’t date. Idols don’t have a significant other in a whole other country that they call when they can find free time. Even when it comes to casual conversation where there isn’t a camera directly trained on them, Kamden just doesn’t say anything.

They do ask him later. And when he says you’re a close friend he hasn’t seen in awhile, their faces light up in recognition. He leaves it at that.

You walk into the arena with a little trepidation. 

It’s all been a blur. Packing your things, flying to Korea, meeting up with Kamden’s mom and brother who have been kind enough to get you a ticket pass for the family section. Of course, he has no idea you’re even here.

You’re quite a bit more nervous about surprising him than you thought. While you’d give anything to see him again, it was a little risky in such a public venue with so many people watching and cameras everywhere filming almost any angle. Maybe you can be discreet enough if you do break down but Kamden’s on stage, the spotlights bright and on him. Fans are probably filming him on their own devices.

At this point, you’ll just have to trust your boyfriend to keep his reactions to a believable level. You don’t stand too close to his family, trying to keep your distance but also staying near enough that you’d be in the same general direction if Kamden glanced your way.

You end up on the side, along with a few other people who seem to be dressed as discreetly as you, masks on too. The looks you exchange seem to come to a general understanding of why you’re all here and who you’re here for.

Kamden doesn’t notice you when the Top 18 first file in. You don’t expect him to but you see him though. There’s a growing knot in your stomach, emotions welling up from actually seeing him not through a screen but so close that you could walk on stage and touch him. You don’t do that, of course. But still, he’s so near that it almost hurts not being able to throw yourself into his arms for a hug.

You’ve wanted this so much, especially after more than a year of not seeing him. But right now, you feel frozen. You only watch as they start getting into positions for the signal song. Fans are cheering, even the family members and friends of the trainees are calling out words of support. Still, your voice sticks to your throat, as much as you want to shout out, something keeps you from doing it.

Good thing Kamden’s brother does it for you. It probably surprises you and his mom more than it should but who can blame you when he almost never does that? Kamden’s surprised too, maybe it’s a twin thing but he immediately stands up straighter looking for where his brother’s voice is coming from.

And then he sees you.

His eyes meet yours and they widen considerably. His mouth even drops open a little. You’re smiling so much and you’re sure it shows from how your eyes crinkle, just a little glossy. But you’re not going to cry just yet. Instead, you wave at him. He can’t do much more than give a little wave back before they seem to be ready to start filming. 

Suddenly, your heart feels just a little lighter. You step back and watch him dance the signal song. You’ve seen him do it a thousand times, every time you stream his video. It feels so surreal, being able to see it like this, right in front of you. When the song ends, you see his eyes flick back in your direction, searching for your face. When he finds it, his expression brightens.

It’s amazing, watching someone you love do what they love. Sure, you’ve seen Kamden dance, you’ve gotten him to sing and even rap for you a little before. But it’s different with the stage and the lights and the crowd and he looks so comfortable there. You laugh when you see the Jelly Pop teaser, maybe you’ll get him to wear that dress again, just so you can get photos. The final song is almost bittersweet and you try your best but a few tears do slip out.

He’s messaged you about barely making it to the finale, you’ve monitored the program, watched his rank. You both know his chances are slim. But they’re possible. Still, he’s told you that he’s prepared for the equal possibility of not debuting. His company should have plans, he assured you. You watch him walk over to every one of his fellow trainees who’ve made it to debut, offering hugs and congratulating them. And as the number of spots dwindle, you keep your hopes up but you begin to accept it as well.

By the time they’ve called third, you watch as he walks over to Matthew, one of the trainees he’s closest with from what he’s told you. Maybe he lingers a little longer. Maybe you catch his eyes as he looks over. Hwaiting! You mouth, shaking your fists a little in encouragement. The emotions are swirling inside you. When the camera pans over to him, he’s teary eyed, covering his face the way he always does when he gets like that. You can’t help it. The emotions are starting to spill over and you breathe between the occasional tears.

After they announce the ninth place, everything suddenly starts moving so fast and so slow. They wrap up filming. The audience begins to file out. The cameras switch off one by one. You go backstage.

When he walks in, mic gone, still in that uniform that you keep teasing about, you don’t hold back. His arms wrap around you and you fall into him, holding him so tightly you wish you didn’t need to let go. And then both of you start crying.

“I missed you so much, Kam.” You’re holding onto the fabric of his jacket, gripping at it so desperately you’re almost afraid it might rip.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” He manages, his head somehow buried on your shoulder, tears soaking the cloth of your shirt.

“Surprise?” It comes out weak, a little shaky as you both laugh brokenly through your sobs.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He holds you even tighter, like he’s afraid you might fade into thin air.

“I’ll be here for a while.” You tell him. “I wish I could’ve come sooner but-”

“It’s okay seriously, you’re here now.” If he squeezes you anymore, you feel like your heart might burst. “I’m so happy to see you.”

He goes back with you. There’s few brief introductions to Jay and Matthew and a few other trainees he’s grown close with, nudges and knowing looks and raised eyebrows. But it’s nothing to stress about, you manage to make it back under the radar.

You feel him watching you as you grab a few more things from your suitcase after both of you have showered and you’re wearing another one of his old shirts. Before you know it, your legs are tangled together, your head resting on his shoulder, your hands intertwined. 

“I don’t want to sleep,” he says quietly. “I don’t want to wake up and find out this is a dream and you aren’t here.”

“You aren’t dreaming, Kam.” You reassure him, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. Even in the privacy of this room, he blushes.

“Even if I didn’t make it, at least I have you.”

“You do, Kam. You always do.” And you know he will make it, one day.

[ohmotherwhereartthou-if]

200 Followers Reward: Part 1

Sorry I never got around to posting these, there will be 3 more of these coming as soon as I finish them. Enjoy!

Eria Short Story

The candle flickers as it fights the bitter cold winds flowing into the cabin through the gaps in the door. Mama pushed clothes under the gaps to try and fight it, but they froze and now the fabric lies stiff while the wind seems to seep through them. 

I huddle in the corner, wrapped and bundled up with as many blankets I could find. Papa went out to chop some wood for the fireplace, mama had called him crazy because it was bright and sunny out. Though he said it felt a little chill in the air and that we should be prepared in any case. That was hours ago.

I can’t see outside, the windows are dark and only the flashes of bitter white snow and ice slam against the glass. My body shutters, or so I think; I can’t feel anything. My fingers and toes are white, just like mama's were before they turned black and fell off. She is sleeping in her bed, she couldn’t move anymore and asked me to help her lie down. We were cuddling to keep warm but it wasn’t working, she told me she loved me and not to disturb her now. She hasn’t moved once since then, even though she usually turns a lot when she sleeps.

I’m so cold now.

There is ice forming on the walls, I can see my breath in the air. Like mist, it reminds me of a dragon. If I were a dragon, I’d breathe fire and warm everything up. That way mama can wake up and papa can find his way home. I hope he’s okay.

A loud bang makes me flinch, I turn to the front window. I see a bright blue light outside, papa usually shines his lantern outside the window when he comes home, maybe it’s him? I try to shuffle my way closer to the door but it’s hard, I can’t feel my legs. 

The door handle turns once. Then it sits still, did papa forget his keys? Or can he not move like me? He is outside, it must be so much colder out there then it is in here. 

Oh no, he could be like mama right now!

I try to shout out to him to hold on, I lean my weight forward and fall onto my stomach. I then crawl slowly with my forearms, inching closer to the door.

“Hold on papa! I’m coming, just hold on. Please...”

The door seems ages away but finally I make it. I lean against it and try to pull myself upward, it’s hard and my whole body tingles as the cold seems to intensify and radiate off of this door. It hurts to be here so close to it but I have to help papa. I manage to slip myself against the door and try to reach up for the knob. My hand feels like it is moving in slow motion, it takes so long to move it upwards; my hand grabs the knob in a slack hold. I fumble with turning the knob, not able to get a firm grip.

My hand slips. Shit.

I try again, and fail. I groan in frustration and try again once more.

I finally manage to get a hold on the handle, I turn the lock and push it open ajar. A rush of cold air bursts its way into our home, the muffled roar of the winds now screams in my ears as it finds its way inside. I look through the slightly opened door, snow finds its way in my eye; I can’t see anything. Not even a few feet in front of me. 

We had a small garden right outside of our door; with a few small fruit trees. Me and mama were so excited to bake fruit pies, papa was looking forward to eating them.

“P-papa? Are you out here? Papa!” I yell out for him but can’t see anything. I can’t feel my face anymore, my eyelashes are freezing over. I close the door with what strength I have left, I leave it unlocked for papa. 

I can’t move anymore… not even an inch.

I feel sleepy, like mama. I think… I'm gonna rest for a bit. Just close my eyes… for a little while.

…

….

…..

The world moves Slower

Damn that witch.

She gave me the wrong directions. Again.

I grit my teeth, my frustration bleeding out into the atmosphere.

Just wait till the next time I see you witch, I’ll see you crystalized in ice and use you to decorate my parlor room. I march through the freshly fallen snow, stepping over the deep layers without my feet sinking. Instantly creating patches of solid ice with each step.

Agh. How annoying.

I try to calm my irritation but it’s futile. I need to rest a moment, meditate.

I imagine for many of the useless fruit flies that populate the land, they would be blinded by my storm. Their eyes unable to see through the falling snow, pathetic.

My eyes are not so weak. I see a small cabin off in the distance and begin my stride towards it. This place is so pitiful, a once grassy valley with the sweet constant caress of the warm sun to ward off the frost of winter. Defenceless, worthless, and useless.

I step on a lump in the road as I make my way over to the cabin, I turn my head back for a moment; the lump I just iced over was in fact the back of a man. He has a bundle of firewood tucked under his arm, was probably trying to make it to the cabin before he keeled over and froze to death. How pathetic.

As I near the cabin I see the upright sticks of young dead trees, a little garden just outside the house. Little trees that will now never blossom nor bear fruit. I can see a little wooden sword under layers of snow, alongside a set of wooden soldiers; a young boy lives here. How adorable. 

I stand in front of the entrance for a moment, losing a mental battle in my mind. Ugh. 

This day just seems to never cease irritating me.

With a withering look the wood of the dead trees turns to solid ice in a bright blue flash, frost flowers start to bloom on the crystal branches. I glide my gaze over to wooden soldiers, with a slight wave of my hand I construct a little fort of ice for them. There. 

Everything in its place. Even if everyone who lived here is dead, there is something left behind to commemorate their fleeting existence.

I approach the door, placing my hand on the handle. I turn it experimentally.

“Oh?” It’s unlocked, how unexpected. I turn the handle and open the door, quaint little place. 

I invite myself in, only I kick something with my foot as I enter. The body of a young adolescent boy slumps over, his skin is as white as snow. Prestage frostbite, judging by the dead woman lying in the bed and the man I found outside; this boy is now an orphan. 

Ugh, how delightful.

[venusbby]

# dialogue prompts for the drabble game !

CLOSED FOR NOW!!! WILL UPDATE WHEN IT OPENS! <3

🩷 THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS! <3

— [ fluff/crack ]

#1. "do that again, please."

#2. "it's because i'm in love with you, idiot!"

"oh."

#3. "you're so pretty."

"what—"

"nothing."

#4. "hah! you can't get rid of me."

"i don't want to get rid of you."

#5. "god, just shut up."

"make me."

#8. "don't you dare—"

#6. "i've never seen you smile like that before."

#7. "i don't think you know how much you matter to me."

"oh, im daring, alright."

#9. "stop staring."

"but you look so cute."

#10. "i made a playlist for you."

#11. "of course i came. i never break my promises."

#12. "your mom totally hates me."

"she almost started planning our wedding yesterday."

"oh."

#13. "quick! pretend you're my boyfriend/girlfriend."

#14. "i'm sick! don't come closer."

"i don't care. let me take care of you."

#15. "maybe a kiss might heal me."

#16. "i really wanna kiss you right now."

"then do it."

#17. "i love you." [for the first time]

#18. "i've loved you all my life."

#19. "i think i'm in love with you."

#20. "i could treat you so much better."

#21. "how was the date?"

"it went.. well. did you come all the way here to ask me that?"

"..yes."

"why?"

"because i don't want you to be with someone else."

#22. "wanna listen to this song together?"

#23. "this reminded me of you."

#24. "marry me?"

"oh my god?!"

"we need the free cake. act along!"

#25. "you're so fucking beautiful."

"..y-you're just drunk."

#26. "what the fuck are you doing?"

"sneaking in. be quiet please. i'm scared of your parents."

#27. "let's go on a date."

#28. "i cooked this for you."

"is.. is that even edible?"

#29. "here, let me help with that."

"it's just a necklace— i'll be able to—"

"just let me do it for you, pretty."

#30. "can you please hold my hand?"

#31. "your hair is so messy."

"oh, please. it's because you can't stop touching it."

#32. "i'm scared! kill that insect already!"

"fuck, it's flying! sorry, but i am not messing with that."

#33. "you're shivering. have my jacket."

#34. "dance with me?"

"i don't know the first thing about dancing."

"neither do i, let's just have fun."

#36. "can i kiss you?"

#35. "i just really missed you."

#37. "is that my shirt?"

#38. "you're mine. only mine."

#39. "i'm yours. only yours."

#40. "please, just kiss me already."

[lv-iceprince]

~wren's jukebox~

so... i truly feel like i am dreaming with 225 followers, it's more than anything i could have wished for and i am so touched and grateful, especially since i have the kindest followers in the whole entire universe!

it isn't much for now but please take this as a little gift, whether you have nothing to listen to, whether you feel alone, or you're awake into the early hours of the morning or you're stuck for something to write please take these as something to get you through it all 🧡

guide~ (l)~ lofi, (s)~ seasonal/only for a limited time, (s-e)~ song edits, (r)~ regular music, (sp)~ spotify, (y)~ youtube

~coffee shop date ☕️~ (l) (sp) (y)

~little ghost-halloween~ (l) (sp) (s)

~japanese 80's city pop~ (r) (sp)

~kpoppin' candy~ (l) (y)

~smooth covers~ (r) (y)

~i want to be a jellyfish and float away into the cool blue sea~ (r) (sp)

...more to come?...

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

this is very cool. thank you guys :ojtvsupport:

[ask-artsy-oncie]

Its just like. I just got my drive for animation back today of all days but I've committed to making a bunch of Valentines dolls and I have to finish them early enough so people can order them and have them *arrive* on Valentines Day and AUUUGH.

Just wish my brain worked properly. Yknow?

[boopshoops]

ITS FINALLY DONE

40 hours of work- just around 200 peoples ocs in the twst community (as such there may be some small mistakes on my end and sometimes i couldnt find refs with all the colors so i did my best!! Honestly im sorry if i missed you too even if its impossible for me to get every single person HFNDJXDHV)

Nothing can quite describe how welcomed ive felt in this community. I find myself always wanting to give back to my moots, followers, or even just other members in the community in general.

SOOO ive been slowly chipping away at this for the past few months. Consider this a gift! And uh, have fun finding your ocs/yuus-

Group photo tags pt1

@thehollowwriter Finn

@rizdoodls Andy

@sakuramidnight15 Hei-ran

@cruel-acid Iza

@raguiras Allen

@oya-oya-okay Yuu and Shishio

@tedearaminta Riona

@zjmaeve Zeth

@akemiozawa Charlotte

@twsted-princess Chimlim

@akihikosanadasboyfriend Yuuma

@tinisprout Yurelle

@valse-a-mille-temps Yuuven

@yaoyaobae Fran

@cosmonavo Gwen

@simpingseafood Sasha

@nuitthegoddess Aurelian and Hana

@cenpede Vitya

@tixdixl Oisín

@tartppola Yuu

@the-trinket-witch Albert and the janitor

@kenchann Yuu

@egophiliac Yuu

@raven-at-the-writing-desk Miss Raven

@adaven17 Yuu

@cecilebutcher Vesper and Igor

@miyuki-fenn Désiré and Mel

@polywoo Misdemeanor

@myuminji Yuu

@zvezdacito Micah

@citrus-c0la Oliver

@datboredpencil Mao

@prinxurie Zuzhou and Jiushu

@robo-milky Cloche

@starry-night-rose Ellis

@bloodiegawz Yuu

@artfulhero-m Aster

@justm3di0cr3 Emory and Poppy

@ai-kan1 Juno

@the-fridge-orange Elinor

@breadcheese444 Lily

@fumikomiyasaki Carol and Yuzuha

@ceruleancattail Cinder and Ceru

@ashipiko Ashi

@elektrosyntetik Anya

@veilofthorns Kissy

@terrovaniadorm Rhys and Ulrica

@midostree-art Yuu

@lanshappycorner Roseline

@midnightmah07 Daisy

[steddieas-shegoes]

At ten years old, Eddie’s mama gets a raise at work just in time for Christmas. This is the same year Wayne works enough to set aside almost $200 for Eddie’s Christmas presents.

Eddie doesn’t know this, and he’s a kid who knows better than to expect more than a few things in his stocking and one or two “bigger gifts” -usually books or tapes- so it’s a surprise when his stocking is overflowing and there’s a huge box under the tree Christmas morning.

Even more surprising is that it’s labeled from Santa, and Eddie hasn’t believed in Santa for nearly three years despite everyone in his classes still believing. He bounces on his feet while he waits for Wayne to get his coffee, for his mama to finish making their special hot chocolate.

The year he gets his first guitar is also the year he finds out his mama can sing like a rock star.

It’s the year he finds out Wayne used to play bluegrass at a bar back home and probably could’ve made it big if he was willing to leave his sister.

It’s the year Eddie finds out he can play by ear and uses it to his advantage to learn all his favorite songs as soon as he figures out the chords.

And for years, he is quick to pull out his acoustic to learn something new, even when he manages to buy his electric with money from helping fix cars at the shop where his uncle’s friend works.

After he saves Hawkins, and his hands stop shaking enough for him to play, he asks Steve to bring his acoustic to the hospital so he can entertain himself. Steve shares a look with Wayne, then his mama.

“It, uh, didn’t survive…everything.”

Nothing broke his heart quite like hearing that.

He pretends it’s okay though, doesn’t want his mama and Wayne to feel worse than they already did about everything.

He tables his emotions until he’s alone that night, shortly after dinner when everyone goes home to get some rest before the next day of volunteering, and cleaning, and visiting.

He’s woken up in the middle of the night by the door opening, and even though the person coming in is trying to be quiet, the door creaks from the building settling funny during the “earthquake.”

“Steve?”

Steve turns and even in the dark, Eddie can see his blush.

He’s holding something.

Something big and guitar shaped.

“What have you done?”

Steve walks over to him and gently sets the guitar case in his lap.

Eddie opens it and sees a gently used acoustic with Eddie’s name now engraved on the side.

“Steve.”

“You can have nice things. You should have nice things. We don’t have many options right now, but at least you won’t get rusty.”

Eddie cried.

Steve held him.

And after Steve wiped his tears away and kissed his forehead—which was something they’d be talking about as soon as Eddie could focus on something other than the guitar in his lap— he played slower songs, songs that even Steve could recognize, until a nurse realized Steve was here past visiting hours and kicked him out.

When his mama saw it the next morning propped by his bed, she smiled knowingly.

“I see the boy followed through.”

“What?”

“He asked me all kinds of questions about guitars and what your old one looked like and if a used one would be okay. Don’t know how he found one so quick.”

“He’s pretty determined when he sets his mind to something.”

“I think he’s set his mind on you, baby.”

Eddie thought maybe she was right.

[hadersversion]

how to disappear! - lumberjack! logan x farmer’s daughter!reader: how they first meet

warnings: mentions of christianity, waiting till marriage, innocent reader, implied age gap (reader in 20s and logan being logan so 200?), good ole country attitudes

moodboard <3

🍓you’ve been living in a small town in nebraska your whole life

🍓the youngest daughter to the towns farmer, you were full of personality and many people in the town just liked to be around you

🍓you cared for the kids, helped the elderly, cooked & baker for everyone while wearing a big, beautiful smile on your face

🍓logan came to town in early spring, buying the fixer upper house down the dirt road from your home

🍓you two first met when your father asked you to run down some eggs that the chickens just hatched to the new neighbor as a welcome gift

🍓 you got on your bike, your white skirt flying in the wind as you drive down the hill

🍓 you parked your bike in front of his house and walked around the property, which seemed to be empty besides the pick up truck sitting in the drive way

🍓“hello? hello? i’m y/n, your new neighbor from up the street.”

🍓 you ventured around the property and admired the way it was already coming together. the once run down house now painted a fresh coat of red.

🍓 your walk around the house was cut short when you heard the sound of wood being split deeper into the woods surrounding the property

🍓 clutching the eggs, you followed the noise until you were looking at the ripped back of a man as he swung his axe high in the air

🍓 your body froze as you watched the man move swiftly with his axe, admiring his body and trying to tune out all the things you wanted him to do to you

🍓 he turned around and did a double take, his eyes raking up and down your body

🍓 the older man stood tall, his dark hair spiking up

🍓“um, hello?” he grunted

🍓 his white tank top clung to his sweaty body, showing off his hairy chest

🍓 dog tags hung around his neck as your brain thought about them hanging above your face when he’s on top of you

🍓 your mouth became dry as you stared at him

🍓 “h-hi.” you said shyly.

🍓“can i help ya with something, sweetheart.” he set the axe down and picked up a cigar from a log

🍓“y-yeah, i-um-i.” you were a stuttering mess looking at the gorgeous man in front of you. “sorry, i-uh…i live up the street and my daddy asked me to drop off these eggs to ya. our chickens hatched them this mornin’. think of it as a welcome to the town gift.”

🍓 he looks down at the eggs in your hand and smirks

🍓“appreciate it.” he walks up and grabs the eggs, cigar hanging from his mouth. “tell your pa i said thanks.”

🍓 your breathe hitches as you stare up at him, your thoughts becoming impure before you could even control them

🍓you never had thoughts like this before, you knew that you had to wait until marriage to even cross this bridge

🍓but this man made you want to throw those ideas out the window

🍓you watch as he stares down your chest, your shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination as it opened a bit at the top

🍓 instinctively, your fingers come up and play with cross necklace sitting comfortably against you

🍓you could swear this man let out a small groan at the tiny action

🍓“didn’t catch your name, sweetheart.”

🍓“y/n.”

🍓“y/n.” he repeats back and you swear, your heart melted in your chest. “pretty, just like you. i’m logan.”

🍓 i nod and smile. “thank you.”

🍓 the two of you stand in silence, appreciating the company of one another

🍓“i-uh…i should get going. but it was nice to meet you, logan.”

🍓“back at ya, kid.”

🍓 he watched as you walked towards your bike and hop on

🍓eyes raking over your body one last time as though he was never going to see you again, he wanted to savor you

🍓 you wave innocently and start your journey home

🍓 logan waves back and takes the cigar out of his mouth

🍓“maybe comin here wasn’t so bad.”

[pedroscowgirl]

birthday boy

logan howlett x female!reader

warning: smut! minors dni! bondage, edging, p in v (wrap it up), creampie, lmk iif i forgot sum

words: 2k

a/n: this is based of this post by @fartknockerz . i saw it on my feed and had to write it quickly (im working on my other stuff rn no worries)

Logan had always kept things simple, especially on his birthday. All he wanted this year was a quiet evening, a cold beer, and his girlfriend by his side. No parties, no surprises. And Wade, for once, seemed to respect that, which was odd. And after 200 years, birthdays become quite boring.

When Logan stepped into the apartment, he could sense something was off. It was too quiet, even for Wade. He narrowed his eyes and headed toward the kitchen, finding Wade casually lounging on the counter with a mischievous grin.

"What's with the face, Wade? I told you,no surprises."

"Relax, wolfie" Wade said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "No parties, no explosions. Just a little... something. Consider it my good deed of the year."

Logan huffed, already growing suspicious. But before he could protest, Wade hopped off the counter and motioned for him to follow. They walked down the hall until Wade stopped at the closed bedroom door.

"Go on," Wade said, the grin never leaving his face. "Open it."

Logan’s brows furrowed as he reached for the doorknob. He pushed the door open, and what he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

There, in the middle of the room, was you, his beautiful girlfriend, wearing nothing but intricate ropes of red silk, artfully knotted in Japanese shibari style.. You met his gaze with a sheepish smile, your eyes shining with a mix of anticipation and affection.

"Happy birthday, Logan," you whispered and winked at him.

Logan stood frozen for a moment, the sight of you, his girl, his gift, all wrapped up just for him, sent a primal surge through him. His hands flexed at his sides, every instinct screaming to claim what was his. Wade had outdone himself this time.

"Well, I'll leave you two lovebirds to it," Wade quipped from behind him, but Logan barely heard him. He was too focused on the woman in front of him, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, the way the ropes hugged her body.

As Wade turned to leave, Blind Al’s voice echoed from the living room. "Do you think he liked the gift?"

Wade smirked, closing the door behind him. "Oh, I'm sure he's... unwrapping it right about now."

The door clicked shut behind Wade, leaving Logan alone with you. The only sounds in the room were your soft breaths and the distant creak of the headboard, stilling as Logan took in the sight before him. You were spread out on the bed, your wrists and ankles bound in intricate, crisscrossing ropes of the deep red silk. The knots were tight, but not too tight,just enough to hold you in place, to remind you who was in control.

Your body was a work of art, every curve accentuated by the way the ropes dug into your skin. Your breathing was shallow, the rise and fall of your chest quickening as Logan's gaze roamed over you. You could feel the anticipation building inside you, the way your lower lip trembled slightly, waiting for his next move.

Logan’s fingers twitched at his sides, the urge to touch you, to claim you, almost overwhelming. He could feel the animalistic hunger bubbling up inside him, threatening to spill over. You were his, all his, and tonight you were wrapped up just for him.

Slowly, deliberately, Logan shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he approached the bed, his footsteps heavy with desire. You watched him, your eyes wide and dark, filled with a mix of need and submission.

When he reached the edge of the bed, Logan leaned down, brushing his knuckles lightly over your cheek. You nuzzled into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment as you savoured the warmth of his skin.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “All tied up for me. You’re a perfect little gift, aren’t you?”

You nodded, your voice caught in your throat. Logan smirked, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips before slipping into your mouth. You sucked on it instinctively, your tongue swirling around the digit, making his cock twitch in his jeans. The sight of you, so eager and willing, only fuelled the fire burning inside him.

Logan withdrew his thumb, his hand trailing down your neck, over the delicate ropes that wrapped around your torso, and down to your breasts. He cupped one, feeling the way the rope lifted and pushed your flesh up, making your nipples strain against the confines of the silk.

“Fuck, you look good like this,” Logan growled, his hand moving to your other breast, kneading it roughly. You moaned, arching into his touch as much as the ropes would allow, your body desperate for more contact. “You want this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need. “I want you, Logan. Please…”

The sound of your begging sent a shiver down his spine. He loved it when you begged, when you surrendered yourself completely to him. It made the beast inside him roar with satisfaction.

Logan’s hands moved lower, tracing the lines of your body, following the path the ropes created as they crisscrossed over your abdomen, dipping down between your thighs. He could feel the heat radiating from your core, the way your hips shifted restlessly as he hovered just above your most sensitive spot.

“Patience,” he murmured, sliding his fingers over your mound, barely grazing your clit. You whimpered, your hips bucking slightly, desperate for more friction. Logan chuckled darkly. “You’re gonna take what I give you, sweetheart. And you’re gonna fucking thank me for it.”

You nodded, your breath coming in short, needy gasps. Logan finally relented, pressing his fingers more firmly against your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the swollen nub. Your response was immediate, your body tensed, your back arching off the bed as a broken moan escaped your lips.

“Please, Logan,” you whimpered, your voice cracking with desperation. “I need you inside me. Please…”

Logan’s eyes darkened, his cock straining painfully against the confines of his jeans. He had wanted to take his time, to savour this gift, but the way you pleaded for him, the way you whined under his touch, was driving him wild.

With a low growl, Logan stepped back from the bed, quickly shedding his clothes. His shirt hit the floor first, followed by his jeans and boxers, leaving him gloriously naked and fully erect. You could see the way his muscles rippled under his skin, the way his eyes devoured you as he took in your vulnerable, bound form.

Logan climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your spread legs. He ran his hands up your thighs, feeling the tremors that coursed through your body as he neared your center. You were dripping wet, your slickness coating your inner thighs, a testament to just how badly you wanted him.

“God, you’re so fucking wet for me,” Logan murmured, his voice laced with both admiration and lust. He lined himself up with your entrance, his cock brushing against your swollen folds. “Are you ready, sweetheart? Ready for me to fuck your brains out?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your eyes locking onto his. “Please, Logan… I need you…”

With a growl, Logan thrust into you in one swift, powerful motion, burying himself to the hilt. You cried out, your head thrown back, your body tensing as you adjusted to the sudden, intense fullness. Logan paused for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling of him inside you, before he began to move.

He started slow, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in, each stroke deliberate and deep. Your walls clenched around him, squeezing him tight, driving him mad with the need to fuck you harder, faster. But he held back, wanting to drag out the pleasure, to make you feel every inch of him.

“Fuck, you feel good” Logan groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he picked up the pace. “You feel soo fucking good, baby. It’s like you’re made for me.”

Your moans grew louder with each thrust, your body straining against the ropes that held you in place. You were completely at his mercy, unable to move, unable to do anything but take what he was giving you. And you loved every second of it.

“Logan… oh god… Logan, please!” you cried out, your voice breaking as you neared the edge. “I’m so close… please, let me come!”

Logan could feel you getting closer, the way your walls tightened around him, the way your body trembled with the effort to hold back. But he wasn’t ready to let you come just yet. He slowed his thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before easing back in, just enough to keep you on the edge, but not enough to push you over.

“Not yet, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “You’re gonna hold it for me. You’re gonna be a good girl and hold it until I say you can come.”

You whimpered, your body shaking with the effort of holding back, but you nodded, your eyes pleading with him to let you have your release. Logan smirked, his hand slipping down to rub your clit in time with his slow, deep thrusts, keeping you right on the brink.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan groaned, his own control slipping as he felt his orgasm building. “Just a little longer… I wanna feel you come all over my cock…”

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, as Logan increased the pace, his thrusts becoming harder, more frantic. He was close, so close, and he needed to feel you come around him, needed to push you over the edge.

“Now, sweetheart,” Logan growled, his voice rough with need. “Come for me. Come now.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before you shattered around him, your orgasm crashing through you with a force that left you trembling and gasping for breath. Your walls tightened around him, squeezing him like a vice, milking him for everything he had. Logan followed you over the edge, his own orgasm hitting him like a freight train as he buried himself deep inside you, spilling himself in hot, thick spurts.

He collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his release. For a long moment, neither of you moved, both of you too lost in the haze of pleasure to do anything but breathe.

Finally, Logan lifted his head, looking down at you. You were a mess, sweaty, flushed, your hair sticking to your forehead, but you were beautiful. And you were his. All his.

“Happy birthday,” you whispered, your voice hoarse but filled with affection.

Logan chuckled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Best damn birthday gift I’ve ever gotten,” he murmured against your mouth, before pulling back to look at you, a soft smile on his lips. “Thank you.”

You smiled back at him, your eyes shining with love. “Anything for you, Logan. Always.”

Logan kissed you again, slower this time, taking his time to savor the taste of you. When he finally pulled back, he reached up to start untying the ropes, his fingers deftly working the knots.

“Let’s get you out of these, darlin’,” he said softly, his voice filled with tenderness. “Then maybe we can have another round. Or two.”

You giggled, your body already tingling with anticipation at the thought. “I’m all yours, birthday boy.”

The sounds that followed from behind that closed door, moans, growls, the steady thump of the headboard, left no doubt in Wade’s mind. He sauntered back into the living room where Blind Al sat with a book.

"I think it's safe to say," Wade started, plopping down on the couch beside her, "that she's going to be in pieces by morning. But, y'know, the fun kind."

Blind Al shook her head, not missing a beat as she turned a page. "Poor girl. She better be able to walk after this."

Wade chuckled. "Don’t worry, Al. She’s tougher than she looks."

[rachel-homeanddesign-sims]

1000+ Followers Gift

Thank you to my followers for the lovely comments and for your support. This is my first conversions, all recolorable. Hope you like it 🌼

Amazing Tree Stump | Decor - Plants - 11§

Nectar Country Crates | Decor - Sculptures - 75§

Nectar Country Crates, Stacked | Decor - Sculptures - 200§

Salvaged Barrel - Natural | Surfaces - End Tables - 100§

Titantic Terrarium | Decor - Plants - 50§

Tree To Get Ready – Fortigo Products | Decor - Plants - 1140§

Utility Floral Receptacle | Decor - Plants - 30§

Download SFS

Fixed wall distance, please re-download the updated file.

If you have any questions feel free to let me know. Thank you)

[littlejuicebox]

The wish spell worked.

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader/Tav

Summary/Setting: 10 years post BG3. Follows my HC for spawn Astarion arc. See my other fics for more information, but otherwise the title speaks for itself. :)

Rating/Warnings: PG / allusions to sexual behaviors / fluff / in-game spoilers / lightest bit of angst if you squint but not really / this is self-indulgent af and idc / so sweet it will rot your teeth

Word Count: 2.2 K

A/N: HAPPY 400 FOLLOWERS POST! Thank you to everyone who likes my stories and provides encouragement. I love you all! I originally wanted to post this as a New Years Eve/Day special, but I couldn't get it quite right by then. After several reiterations, this is what we finally have! Hope it was worth the wait and multiple edits for you guys! :)

-----

If anyone had told Astarion Ancunin a decade ago that he would one day hold Gale Dekarios on a pedestal nearly as high as the one on which he held his darling Tav, the immortal elf might have actually died from laughter. The strange irony and wicked life lessons of fate were not lost on the retired rogue. Unbelievably and annoyingly, Astarion eventually found himself indebted to the wizard in a way he could never repay. 

The wish spell worked.

It had taken years for Gale to feel absolutely ready to cast the spell. Astarion waited — exasperated, impatient, and impetuous — for what felt like the longest ten years of his ageless lifetime to be given the gift of mortality. 

More than once, in the pale elf’s tearful fits of frustration, he accused the wizard of intentionally stringing him along or simply not having the skills to perform such a spell and not wanting to admit it. More than once, you had to calmly remind your husband of the great lengths Gale had gone to find information regarding the act and the even greater risk to both the vampire and the wizard if the spell was not cast perfectly and mindfully. 

It had been a long decade, waiting for that impossible possibility, but the wait had been more than worth it.

Just over ten years after you met that silver-haired rake on the beach, Astarion was miraculously returned to his living, breathing, heart beating, mortal elven form. Surprisingly, not much changed about his appearance. Most notably, his eyes turned a gold-flecked green, and his complexion took on a constant soft pink undertone, permanently tinged by the circulation of his own blood by his own heart. That beautiful undertone caused a delightful blush to creep across his cheeks and ears whenever you teased or aroused him, and you took an even more significant liking to both these behaviors, just to watch that gorgeous rosiness creep across his skin. 

And while you dearly loved that blush, your favorite part of the change had certainly been the steady beating of his heart. You would rest your head on your lover’s chest for hours to savor the sound if he let you, wrapped tightly in the new found warmth of his long limbs.

While you became obsessed with Astarion’s steadily thrumming heart, he’d become obsessed with his reflection. As soon as he’d been able to see himself, your husband had taken to having you sit on his lap while you primped and preened. He would stare into the looking glass with you for long lengths of time, his limbs coiled around your waist and chin often resting on your shoulder as he studied the mirror with a besotted, hazy smile on his face. 

After a few weeks of this, you finally asked your silver-haired husband why he seemed positively obsessed with this new behavior. Astarion’s response had floored you.

“Darling, in my over 200 years, I never imagined I would have a love of my own, nor did I ever imagine what we would look like together. I couldn’t have envisioned such a thing even if I thought it a possibility or wanted to. I simply couldn’t envision myself at all. But now seeing it? I want to commit everything to memory exactly as it is… because it’s the most precious vision in the world to me.”

And really how else could you respond to that apart from kissing your sappy, bleeding heart of a husband and allowing him to continue the practice?

Of course, the two of you behaving as innocent love birds hadn’t been the only thing Astarion wanted to see in the mirror. On more than one occasion, he’d easily charmed you into the throes of passion in perfect view of a reflective surface. Your husband’s darker, more carnal half had become obsessed with watching you two in the act and it certainly thrilled you to know he was trying to commit those sensual sights to memory. You were quite happy to oblige. 

As such, you’d soon found yourself carrying the byproduct of one of your many erotic couplings.

“That was a big one.” Astarion murmurs, and you see a smile creeping across the reflection of his face in the mirror as he glances down and runs his long fingers across the swell of your abdomen. His arms are looped around you as you sit front of the vanity mirror, placing the final touches on your appearance. 

You agree with a gentle hum, moving a hand to your pregnant belly and rubbing circles on the stretch of skin, hoping to calm the young life stirring within. You coo softly to the rolling babe as you finish your primping, “Surely you aren’t thinking about breaking out of there yet, my little love. You have a few more months to go.”

Astarion’s now-warm hands cover yours as the little one seems to do somersaults in response to your voice, causing you to wince slightly as they jolt against your ribs. He presses a tender kiss into your shoulder and chuckles, “This one is strong like their mother and impatient like their father… we may be in for a spot of trouble in a few years, my love.”

You laugh in response as you stand with a pitiable amount of effort and quite a bit of assistance from the supportive arm of your husband. “I believe you’re right… but surely we’ve taken on scarier and more difficult things than a stubborn babe.”

Astarion hums in agreement before pressing a kiss to your swollen stomach, which is hovering just in front of him now, “Surely, darling. Now let us all go say hi to Uncle and Auntie Ravengard. I’m positively famished.”

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You are almost out of breath as you walk the final steps toward the entry of the Duke’s home. Astarion had practically begged you to take the carriage all the way through Wyll’s estate, but you waved him off, adamant that a bit light exercise would be good for the baby. The walkway was fully paved, how hard could it be?

As it turned out, you’d severely overestimated your abilities. Though it was just under a quarter mile to the front doors of the manor when you’d decided to exit the carriage, you were no longer the young, lithe woman that traversed the wilds with a petulant vampire a decade ago. The weight of your belly slowed you down more than you would admit. Astarion implored you, more than once and with growing concern and exasperation, to return to carriage. You refused each time, forcing the driver to follow behind at a snail’s pace.

“Gods, I hope this child does not take on your stubborn streak. I will be constantly overrun in my own home.” Astarion huffs, dabbing at the few beads of sweat on your brow with a silken handkerchief as he helps you climb the small flight of stairs at the entryway of Wyll’s home. He rolls his eyes as you laugh, breathlessly, and lean into him for support as he presses a kiss at the meeting point between your cheek and ear. “But, my sweet, as much as I would have preferred we stayed in the coach, you know I adore the way you look with your cheeks all flushed after a bit of… exertion.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes at your husband as he traces his hand over your flushed cheek, his expression practically brimming with desire. The flush on the tips of his ears is a telltale sign of his salacious thoughts. If he had it his way, he’d be dragging you into the carriage right there for a quickie. But, he knew you two were nearly running late for dinner with the Duke and forced himself to push all desires aside. For now.

Wyll and his beautiful wife, Euphemia, greet you with a flurry of excitement and hugs. Their two twin toddlers run around in the entryway, a nursemaid trailing behind them.

Wyll wears a kind, soft smile as he addresses the both of you, “Dinner should be just about ready… shall we make our way there? I hope you two don’t mind. We are having work done in the dining room — my beautiful flower insisted upon remodeling — so dinner will have to be served in the Great Hall.”

As the four of you head towards the larger of the two dining areas in the Duke’s estate, Astarion wraps his arm around your waist and runs his hand along the side of your nearly bursting belly once again. There is a subtle pause at the doors of the Great Hall, and your husband’s eyebrows crinkle in a silent question before you gently press a kiss into his cheek and whisper, “Happy Rebirth Day, my love.”

Today marked one year since Gale successfully cast the Wish Spell. 

The oak doors burst open to reveal the faces of everyone you hold dear, all of them shouting, “Surprise!” in unison. Wyll and Euphemia are laughing with delight as the four of you enter the room. Astarion is obviously shocked and overwhelmed as he takes the scene in, but a toothy smile is plastered across his face nonetheless. The elf could not believe that the significance of the date had slipped his mind, nor could he believe that you all went through such great lengths to plan a spectacle on his behalf. 

Everyone showered your husband with a plethora of well-wishes and congratulations. The food was heavenly, and the silver-haired elf dined to his heart’s content. Just as Astarion loved to watch you both in the mirror, you adored seeing him eat and savor real food. You’d pursued cooking as a new hobby in the past few months, just to watch the delight on his face as he tasted any number of delectable things you placed in front of him.

“Have you thought of any names for the baby?” Karlach asks through a mouthful of food as she continues to tear into the lamb shank in front of her.

You smile knowingly. This topic has piqued everyone’s interest and they all turn their gazes in your direction, “Yes, actually… Astarion picked it out. It works well for a boy or a girl, and I think it’s an excellent choice.”

The elf smiles shyly, that subtle flush of his cheeks and ears crawling across his face as you turn your gaze to him and urge him on, “Go on, my love, and tell them the gorgeous name you picked.”

“I… I decided we should name the baby Gale.” Astarion reveals, his hand immediately moving to graze against your swollen stomach as he meets the flabbergasted expression of the wizard sitting across the table with a round-eyed, nervous gaze, “If… that’s okay by you.”

Gale coughs in surprise, nearly choking on the wine he’d just sipped from a goblet. For a moment, you watch as he blinks away tears. You are beginning to truly believe he might leap across the table and tackle your husband in a hug when he rapidly nods instead.

The wizard’s voice cracks with emotion as he speaks, “Y-yes. Thank you, Astarion. That is such an honor.”

Ten years of friendship between two men that once seemed entirely at odds with one another, honored by a namesake given to a precious babe. Fate was a truly remarkable thing.

“It’s an honor you are quite deserving of, Gale.” You respond, reaching your hand across the table to give the wizard’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “May our child have just as much heart, wit, and skill as their namesake. We will be truly blessed.”

A cake with candles is brought about at the end of the meal and placed in front of Astarion as everyone sings an off-key birthday tune. While your husband always seemed to thrive on being held at the center of attention, you noticed with a bit of amusement that his ears and cheeks were flushed pink as everyone focused their eyes upon him. 

While the others continue to sing, you lean closer to your husband and whisper, “I know we will never surpass the wish you made last time, my Star. But go on and make one anyway.”

Astarion’s gaze roams around the room, taking in all the friends he collected this past decade. Then he turns to you and grins, pausing to etch every bit of this moment into his memory before closing his eyes and blowing the candles out to a cacophony of inebriated cheers and whoops.

The elf wished for the only thing he could: a healthy child and a long life with his little love. Fate had already gifted him with more than he could have imagined for himself back in those dark, dank dungeons he once called home. Astarion found himself in want of nothing but the health and happiness of the woman beside him and the safety of their offspring. 

Though he knew it was another selfish ask, and he’d been blessed far more than he had ever expected, Astarion prayed to the gods that he once never thought would answer to grant him this last wish. And just in case they did not hear him the first time, he would be sure to make the same wish every year, until his very last.