#anyway. i swear i'll return to my life responsibilities now.

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the gerri kellman: secret freak holy trinity

girl! what you doing!!!

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The Thousandth Time (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Summary: Astarion and Rogue!Tav make love for the thousandth time. In a bathtub.

Tags: Smut, Slice of life, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, bathtub sex, sloppy sex, seriously just sickeningly sweet smut, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Domesticity is romantic, Hand Jobs, Blood Drinking

A/N: Some context-- I wanted to write soft, gender neutral smut. And by the gods is this soft. I tried to look at what it's like to love someone for so long. In my experience, when you've been with someone for so many years, you still find a lot of love in the little things. which I hope I hit? Anyway, enjoy!!

Word count: ~5.3k

The thousandth time you make love to Astarion, you don't know it's the thousandth time.

It's a day like any other, really.

After a long day at the guild, you've arrived home, a sigh on your lips, a furrow to your brow.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?"

You compose your expression and turn toward your lover. "Astarion," you start, a reflexive wistfulness to your tone. Gods are you glad to see him after a day like today. "Nothing is the matter. Nothing important anyway. Simply glad to be home."

Astarion gives you a look that says he doesn't quite believe you, but knows better than to pry too deeply into issues you'd rather not bring home. "Very well, darling. But you know I'm all pointy ears. Especially if Nine-Fingers has been difficult again."

"Ugh," you say, wincing in annoyance. "Do not say her name right now."

The vampire gives you a bright, toothy laugh. "That bad, eh?" You nod. He walks toward you, arms outstretched. "Mmm in that case, shall we call it an early night tonight?"

You dive into the comfort of his arms, holding him to you, inhaling his fresh, familiar scent. It feels like the day's troubles melt in his cold embrace, and the tension in your body finally relaxes. "That might be nice."

"Dinner first?" he asks, pulling away from you slightly.

You look into his warm crimson eyes, feel that same warmth reflected in your face. Of course, he’d check to see if your mortal needs have been met. "No need, I've eaten. How about you?"

Astarion brings a hand up to inspect your face, this way, then that. It’s as if he’s examining you for injury, not assessing if he can partake in a bit of your blood. "Mmm, you seem a tad tired, love."

"You know I'll manage. Besides, get my blood while it's still boiling with rage," you say, craning your neck for him in response.

"As delectable as that sounds,” he begins, letting go of your face, tracing his fingers along your neck. “I think a bath and bed ought to come first."

You want to argue the point, make sure he's fed to the best of your ability, but the yawn that escapes you is irrefutable. With nary another word, his hand is on the small of your back, guiding you toward the bath.

"Would you like to join me?" you ask him as you open the door. Your expression is calm, the question harboring no hidden intentions. Any other day, you may have raised an eyebrow at him suggestively, begun taking off your armor in a tease– but you're tired, simply not wanting to relinquish the feel of his arms around you.

"Certainly, if it keeps you from falling asleep in the tub…" he trails off, looking at you warily. He appears torn, somewhere between keeping you from drowning and keeping you from resting.

You give him a wry smile. “Imagine that. After felling all manner of beasts and men, finally succumbing to the tub.”

Astarion offers you a reluctant smile in return. “My love, I swear to every god above and below, if you die in any manner even remotely that ludicrous, I shall have to pretend not to know you at your funeral.”

“That’s fair,” you say, holding a hand out to him. “Best to make sure that doesn’t happen then, don’t you think?”

The man can’t argue with that, nor does he seem to want to. After an entire day away from each other, this closeness is exactly what the two of you crave. So he takes your offered hand, and follows you into the bathroom.

It has been years since you had added a tub big enough for the two of you in your house. While the two of you had accrued wealth enough for an entire bathhouse, you’d settled for a more modest setup. At least, modest in Astarion’s eyes.

The floor is made of the finest marble tiles, the walls of intricately laid and patterned brick. And in the center of the room, is the room’s main attraction: the enormous, magical tub. It’s long enough that you could comfortably lay down across the entire bottom, wide enough that you have to extend your arms to reach both sides. The outer edges are infused with enchantments to improve your bathing experience, and the tub itself is made of the highest quality crystal that gold can buy.

Once you enter the room, you activate the heat and water sigils along the basin’s edges and turn back to Astarion. “Would you mind grabbing some soaps from the shelf?”

He gives you a lopsided grin, eyes crinkling with amusement, but still moves to do as you ask. “Would you also like me to bathe you while I’m at it?”

“Oh, would you?” you ask half-joking. You begin to strip your armor off, piece by piece.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, picking out a few of his preferred scents from a shelf on the wall. He’s accumulated quite the collection now, enjoying mixing and matching as his nose guides him. “That could be arranged.”

You’re almost halfway through your armor when he returns, bottles of lemon, bergamot, and sage soaps in hand. “Ah, you know how much I love bergamot,” you say, smiling at it fondly, pausing halfway through undoing your leather straps.

“I know,” he says, placing them next to the tub before turning his attention fully to you. “I also know that you need help with that armor or we may be here all night.”

Holding your arms out wordlessly, Astarion starts to unbuckle each and every strap from the front of your padded armor. As he releases you from its confines, you take a deep, relieved breath and say, “Thank you, love.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he murmurs, leaving a long lingering touch along your now exposed collarbone. “While you strike quite the image in your armor, I think I much prefer you without.”

You laugh, feeling quite light in the now steaming room. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your mind is straying quite far from rest, Astarion.”

The vampire shrugs, beginning to tug at your undershirt and small clothes with each of his hands. “Merely stating fact, my darling.”

With a few smooth movements, he’s taken off the last of your clothing, exposing every inch of you to the warmth of the room and the heat of his gaze. He seems just about ready to bury his head in your neck, begin covering every piece of you in kisses, when you speak, “Excuse me, are you planning to enter the bath in your house clothes?”

Astarion looks down at his own garb, the comfortable satins and silks of a man who spent the day lounging at home. When faced with your words and, ugh, logic, he says with a sigh, “Would you do the honors?”

You need no more invitation before your hands are on his soft, flowing shirt, running along it appreciatively. “Is this new?”

“It is,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. “Do you like it?”

“It feels magnificent,” you respond, beginning to undo its buttons. “I may just have to steal it for myself one of these days.”

His lips purse at you. “You know, you could simply ask, darling.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you taunt, pulling up on the shirt's edges, tugging it up and off of him. Now, faced with the plane of his ivory chest, your fingers act on instinct. They trail down his shoulders, trace the line of his pectorals, drop down the center of his stomach to the waist of his pants.

Astarion gives you a low, approving noise before asking you wryly, “Now whose mind is straying?”

“Not mine,” you respond, pulling his pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. “My hands are just so tired, I’m sure you understand.”

“Surely,” he responds, as he pulls each foot out of his pant legs. “How is the water?”

The bath is steaming by now, visibly fogging up the room, but still, you bend down to skim your hands along its surface. “Ah, it’s warm,” you say, gripping the edge with one hand. “Maybe too warm?”

“No such thing,” he responds, and one of his hands lands next to yours as he bends down to feel the water for himself. The man gives a happy hum before asking, “Shall we then?” Then his now-wet hand is smacking your butt, his head gesturing toward the waiting water. 

“Excuse you,” you say, indignantly, as you turn toward him. “I'm tired.” But you don't feel tired. Not after running your hands over his cold skin. Not after feeling the quick contact of his hand on your backside.

“Not to worry, darling. I’ll take care of you.”

As in, bathing or–? Luckily you don't have much more time to think about it before he’s lowering himself into the tub. Even with his quick movement, even with the water’s slight obscurity, you easily note that Astarion’s cock has stirred in interest.

Ah. While you hadn’t meant to illicit anything by inviting him… it’s certainly not unwelcome. It’s a good thing that your exhaustion is all but melting away under his loving touches.

Acutely aware of his sharp gaze on the length of your back, you turn to face away from him, grab the edge of the tub, and slowly enter its warmth. As was customary in your baths, he would start with your back, so you take a spot in front of him, leaving just enough room for him to settle behind you as he pleases.

Too much room clearly, as Astarion immediately scoots forward, extending his legs to each side of you. You feel his hardening length graze your backside as he does so and can’t help the smile that curves your lips.

"Astarion, dear,” you start, placing your hands on each of his knees under the water. “Are you certain you want to bathe me?"

“And why wouldn't I be?” He leans closer, planting a soft kiss along your spine.

You debate backing up into his groin to prove a point but instead shake your head. "No reason, I suppose."

He begins by lathering his hands in a mixture of soaps, carefully measured out by eye and feel. All the while, you sit before him, hands on each of his calves, thumbs repeatedly rubbing the ridge of his muscles. While he’d had a nice, calm day today, his calves are always so tight from sneaking about– and it’s the least you can do for the man that’s bathing you.

Then his hands get to work.

At first he drags both hands along your back, once, twice. Once he’s made sure that soap covers every inch of you, he starts massaging you, working the soap into your skin, kneading into your sore muscles.

Astarion knows your body so intimately and, after so many years of tending to each other, he rubs all of your tightest spots. His knuckles press deep into your neck. His fingers work around your upper back. His thumbs dig underneath the edges of your shoulder blades, working out the knots he knows lay beneath. And, by the gods, if you thought you’d been melting under his caresses before, now you’re practically a puddle.

You can’t help the noises that come out at the sensation of his nimble fingers at work. Your shoulders ache from a long day of sneaking, stabbing, and general tension of dealing with people– the relief is palpable in the way you relax into his touch, grip his legs, and release several breathy moans.

And with each moan, you can feel his cock growing firmer against you. After the first few, you can feel him shift closer with every noise he draws from you. Knowing your affect on him has always done something to stir the fire in you, and this time it has you shifting uncomfortably as heat blooms between your legs. The both of you spur the other’s building lust, all the while the fresh scent that Astarion’s concocted permeates the air.

Then, when it’s clear he’s done with your back, thoroughly satisfied with each gasping breath of pleasure, his hands drop from your shoulders. They tail down your back, playing along your spine. And, in an almost leisurely motion, they wrap around your torso, where they finally settle on your chest.

I don’t think this is a relaxing bath anymore, you think distantly. Yet you’re unable to resist leaning into his palms, arching into his touch.

Sensing your shuffles, Astarion curls further into your back, almost entirely flush to you now. His fingers feel their way to each of your nipples, first gently brushing against them, then thumbing over them each in turn. They respond eagerly, perking up under his delicate sweep.

“Astarion,” you begin, turning your head back to him slightly and raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” Your tone isn’t exactly admonishing– your voice comes out too quiet, desire muffling all other emotions.

His hands trail down your chest, past the surface of the bath water, settling on each of your thighs before he responds, voice low, lips inches away from your ear. “Making sure that every single centimeter of my beautiful darling is clean, of course.”

“Astarion, I thought you would be, ahh… taking care of me," you say, barely holding on to your trail of thought as his hands dip between your legs, brushing your sensitive core.

“I am taking care of you,” he whispers, finally closing the remaining distance between your back, his front. At the feel of his stiff cock pressing against your back, you give an involuntary gasp. He seems to enjoy your reaction, taking a moment to slowly grind the entire length of his hardened arousal along your backside once, before he settles between your cheeks. “Unless you’d rather leave all of this stress pent up, my dear?”

You’d been tired– been ready to bathe and head off to bed. But something about this man never fails to ignite the fire in your heart– or your loins. “I suppose not,” you murmur, releasing Astarion’s calf, running up his leg with your fingers, landing on his arm, gripping it closer to you.

“I knew you would see reason,” he says, taking your grip as guidance. His hand moves down to begin stroking your heat, building up steadily to the fast-paced rhythm he knows you like. In the water’s buoyant embrace, his actions feel a touch more fluid, his fingers more silken.

It has taken time experimenting together to reach this place– one of utmost security and intimate knowledge of each others’ bodies. But now that you’re here, you’ve found that Astarion’s agile fingers are obscenely precise in their movements. Like he knows exactly which pins to tumble to unlock your utmost excitement.

So you can't help the way you buck into his touch, nor the way the water sloshes around you both in response.

"Careful, love," he says, hand stilling. "We don't want to make a mess this time, do we?"

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember the last time this had happened, how the floor had been practically flooded. You should agree with him, make sure that such an incident doesn't occur again. But the front of your mind is wholly occupied, thinking only of how he's stopped moving his hand, how being careful may mean that he takes it too gently. "Mmm, we managed to clean it up well enough," you respond, jerking your hips back, pressing against him with need.

Astarion's laughter rings upon the bathroom's stone walls, before it turns into a groan as you roll your hips once more. His voice is a bit huskier when he responds, "You know we’re going to regret it later.”

You smile back at him, satisfied with the noise you’ve elicited. “Sounds like a problem for later, doesn’t it?” Then your hand squeezes his arm, motioning it back down to your now throbbing arousal. “For now, what was that about releasing my stress?”

“Oh very well… in that case, let’s find where you ache most, shall we?” Astarion murmurs, dipping his head, placing a kiss on the base of your neck. “Here?” Your shoulder. “Or perhaps here?” Then his hand settles back between your legs, fingers touching you in a rather delicate caress. “Or maybe here?”

You hum a noise of approval as his . “Oh, there.”

His fingers close on your swollen sex, rubbing languidly as he whispers in your ear, “Mmm, darling. So much tension…” A bit more pressure. “I must simply…” A bit faster pace. “Massage it all away…”

If anything, his touches cause you to grasp at his legs harder, all of the muscles in your body responding in kind to his ministrations. Your back arches instinctively, earning an exquisite groan from Astarion. So when his next stroke causes you to clench, you lean into it, grinding your ass back into the full length of his erection, sliding easily in the water’s low friction.

His other hand finds its way to your hip, helping you match his pace as you continue to rock into him.

The two of you fall into a beautiful, raucous rhythm, each open and generous with your vocal pleasure, the water’s regular splashes punctuating each movement.

“Yes, yes, gods, Astarion.”

“My sweet, you’re the only divine thing here.”

Then your words begin to lose sense, your rhythm begins to falter, and it’s clear that you won’t last much longer under his caring fingers.

You also know that Astarion hasn’t been tended to nearly as well as you have.

So you move to turn toward him. With how his full length twitches against you in urgency, your own nimble fingers ought to return the favor.

Astarion stops you, placing his unoccupied hand back on your chest to hold you in place. "Ah ah ah. Love, I'm here to help you."

"You are helping,” you start, pushing back against his hand. “But I don’t want to leave you like this.” ‘This’ is obvious as the man clearly exercises every ounce of self control he has judging from the visible veins on his arm, the way his legs squeeze reflexively around you each time he strokes you.

He gives you a reluctant groan, one that does nothing to hide his desire. “Must you always be so selfless?” His hand doesn’t release your chest though, and he begins tracing delicate, wet circles around one of your nipples, as he murmurs, “Fine, just let me continue.”

Staying in place for him, you reach back with one hand to feel for his cock. It’s almost unreal how naturally you slot around him, the way your fingers circle around its girth. The entire length, inch-by-inch, the pattern of his veins, the sensitive lip of his head– they’re all intimately familiar to you now. As is finding just the right grip, the right pace.

When you start to pump him in earnest, Astarion can't help but shudder, his movements losing their steady, pulsing beat. In losing his pace, he takes on a new one– erratic, a bit fumbling, but utterly intoxicating.

You're both stoking each other’s fires in tandem, wildly offset in your desperation to touch each other more and more and more. 

The water feels almost cool compared to your heated core, to the sweet friction you're building together.

Astarion's face tilts into your back, grunting as he strains to right his tempo– his forehead presses against you, his cool exhale grazes your searing skin. His chilled touch is a reprieve in the sweltering fog of steam and heady lust. Hearing your sigh of relief, he seems all too willing to make more contact.

His lips crash onto your back roughly, and his fangs nick your skin. An involuntary shiver runs through your body as you imagine the pleasure his drinking evokes from you. As you imagine the man behind you lapping at your neck, moaning in satisfaction, flushed pink with your very blood–

"Take some blood,” you offer, breathless. Imagining would never be enough, you find yourself craving the real deal. So when you say your next word, it comes out more pleading than you intend, “Please."

“Whatever my dearest desires,” Astarion replies, voice low and rumbling. He removes the hand from your chest and places it on your shoulder, holding you in place as he places his lips at the crook of your neck. His nose rubs gently against your fleshly washed skin. “Mmm, you smell so good.”

Then his fangs pierce you.

When you first began your relationship, you hadn’t intended to enjoy his bites as much as you do, but after years and years of them, the pain hardly registers now. All you feel is close– So very close to the man you would gladly give your lifeblood to.

He draws a gulp, and you feel the blood course through you, into him.

Another drink, and heat builds in you as you feel his cock grow harder in your hand, his veins more prominent.

A third long pull of your blood, and you feel his fingers quicken at your aching arousal.

You jerk into his hand in reaction, trying to seek an outlet for your pleasure. Your mouth emits a whimper– you hadn’t been comfortable whimpering with Astarion at first, but after he drew one out of you, he couldn’t get enough.

He still can’t, and you feel his lips curl into a smile at your neck, his fingers move with more urgency.

All the while you continue stroking his length, fingers sloppy in your own hazy state. It doesn’t seem like you need your usual dexterity though, because Astarion is practically writhing with newfound reactivity. Drinking blood always leaves him especially sensitive.

One last shaky swallow and he removes his fangs from your neck. But not his mouth. His tongue begins lavishing your puncture wound furiously as he struggles to hold back his approaching peak.

With the way he haphazardly tilts his hips into you, it’s all too evident to you that he’s reaching his limit. He’s not afraid to tell you so either.

"My sweet," he all but moans into your ear. "I–I can't last much longer. May I?"

You know what he means, and you honestly can’t last much longer either– you’re positively light-headed from a mixture of bliss and blood loss. So you stop your movements, nod your addled head at him.

He removes his hands from your core and neck, reaching out to your legs. Pulling them out and apart, he shuffles behind you, moving impatiently.

Realizing he can’t do this alone, he gestures, motioning for you to put your legs up.

Still a bit dizzy, you carefully place each leg on either side of the tub’s edges, hooking yourself in place by the ankles. It feels a precarious balance, but you can hardly care when you’re this eager to have Astarion inside you.

Astarion seems just as eager, rubbing his length against your ass hungrily as you get into position.

Perched and ready for him, the man is quick to help once more– his hands grip your asscheeks and lift in a swift movement. You’re particularly buoyant in the water, and you rise higher than either of you had expected. Your hand instinctively reaches out, gripping the edge of the tub to brace yourself, and you hear Astarion give a deep chuckle from behind you.

Holding back your own almost giddy excitement, you try to compose yourself for him. Angling your hips up, you’re almost floating on the water for a moment as Astarion lines the tip of his cock with your entrance.

However, you’re instinctively clenching a second later when a pair of your lover’s fingers tease at your opening. You barely avoid clamping your legs back together at the sensation. 

Recovering from the tickling probe, you look back to see a lust-drunk fanged smile, lips smeared with red. "Astarion, please,” you mutter. “I can't balance like this all day."

"Come darling, I know you’re quite talented," he taunts, easily gliding his fingers back in, curling until you truly do begin to lose balance.

"Astarion," you breathe out, clutching the side of the tub even harder to stay afloat.

Then his fingers slip back out, replaced a moment later by the head of his cock. “No need to worry, I have a seat for you right here.”

His palms cup your backside, his fingers squeeze, as you lower your hips back down, taking in his entire, slick length effortlessly in the water.

“Now isn’t that better?” he asks, grabbing your hips with one hand, the other finding yours on the side of the tub for support.

“Mmm,” is all that you manage, as you adjust to the sudden fullness. You haven’t lain with anyone else in so long, it’s hard to remember a cock other than his. Still, you can’t help but feel like he settles in you just right. Especially when you both slot together neatly, you taking him to the hilt.

Astarion drops another kiss on your back. “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you mumble. Now that you’re securely held in place by Astarion’s hips flush to yours, your legs hanging off the tub’s edges, you place your second hand back at your aching arousal. You begin to stroke yourself back into the same fervor Astarion had you in moments ago.

After a small, deliberate thrust of his hips, testing how you rise and fall in the water, Astarion starts moving against you. It’s slow at first, the water rippling out from you both in small waves. Then his hips rock back, only to drive back into you with sloshing force. 

“A–ahh!” Sweet hells, he knows exactly how to hit your most sensitive spot. You had already been so heated, but now, with your lover’s full, hardened length pressing into you? You feel dizzy with pleasure.

Years of lovemaking, and you’re still in awe of how well he knows your body. It’s more than his previous experiences culminating in some kind of skillful paramour. No, this was built through time, trial, error, effort.

So as this gorgeous man you call love bounces you up and down in his lap, you feel yourself coming undone. Your breaths come ragged as you ride his cock, water spilling out of the tub with each and every buck. Your fingers clench the tub, barely holding on as you feel your pleasure coil tighter and tighter.

Astarion places kiss after kiss down your back, and you hear him murmuring, "Gods you're perfect." A harder kiss. "You feel so good." Another thrust. "Each." A nip at your skin. "And every." A thrust. "Time." Another kiss. "I–I love you."

For your part, you’re finding entire sentences difficult. With the feel of him throbbing inside you, the way his lips feel along your back, each roll of his hips, you're truly only capable of a few phrases. "Astarion." A splashing bounce. "I love you–" A loll back of your head. "Oh hells–" A dip of your hips. "I love you too."

When your peak finally runs through you like a shockwave, when you clench around him in ecstasy, those very same words are still on your lips. "I l–love you."

He moans at the sudden tightness, the muscles that now hold him deep within you. "Darling," he breathes. "Oh love. I can't–"

Astarion means to say that he can't hold on much longer. He'd already been so close, holding back only to keep your pleasure going. So you reach down to his fingers on your hip, as best as you can while still hanging on for dear life, and squeeze his hand. A wordless affirmation, a plea to join you, as he always has.

And it’s that silent communication that has his fingers lacing through yours, his neck craning back, his hips stuttering.

When he comes, there's no pretense or performance. There hasn't been for many years. So when you look back at his face in a hazy fuzz of emotion, the expression you see is utterly unbridled.

It's a look of sheer pleasure– his perfectly pale skin flushed a light rosy color, his usually impeccable hair stuck to his face in a mixture of sweat and water. His eyes are shut, his mouth agape as he spills into you.

So enraptured are you by the mundane beauty of his climax, that you’ve strained too far from your precariously balanced position. Your foot unhooks from the tub’s slippery edge and you fall onto Astarion’s lap with a large splash as he finishes. You’re both left panting and wet in the wake of both your and the tub’s peaks.

Water drips down your face, all of the soap bottles have been knocked from the edge of the tub. The high you’d felt just moments ago feels doused in the stark reality of making love in a bathtub. 

However, when you feel Astarion’s breathy laughter on your back, feel his softening cock twitch with his last few thrusts, you know he’s still in fine spirits.

You stay together for a few moments as you both collect yourselves. Water is wiped from eyes, your second leg comes back into the tub, and several deep breaths are had. Once you’re relatively sorted, Astarion pulls himself out of you with a long, happy sigh.

The man falls back from you, sitting against the end of the tub in a tired flop. Then he’s patting the water in front of him, motioning you to join him in some post-coital cuddles.

You don’t need much more of an invitation.

Floating through the now much lower water, you stop just in front of him. Movements relaxed, you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and scoot into his waiting embrace.

"So," you start, looking at the wasteland of water and strewn soap bottles around the tub. "Looks like we made a mess."

"I told you we would," he says, closing his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.

"I know," you say, leaning into him comfortably. Your body is truly exhausted now, but your mind is a buzz of joy. "It was worth it though."

He laughs into your shoulder, squeezes you tighter. "Feeling better, I take it?"

"Gods yes," you say, tilting your head into his silver hair. "Thank you."

"Oh my sweet, it was my utmost pleasure," he replies, and you can feel his smile on your skin.

You both lean back, grinning at each other like fools. The smiles stay, even when your lips meet in a soft, wet kiss.

You will need to clean the room, the tub, likely your bodies once again– but all you can truly feel right now is content. Enjoying Astarion’s gentle fingers as they trace a pattern onto your skin, the warm water all around you, you very nearly forget that today was merely a day like any other.

The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, it was messy and wet and silly– somehow, it was sweet, caring, and loving all the same.

The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, you didn't know it was the thousandth time.

Just as you hadn't known your tenth thousand kiss, nor your hundred thousandth 'I love you.' Were anyone to ask you about them, you might not even remember the days or events surrounding any of them.

What you do know is that each individual moment holds no less importance, that the affection shared between you doesn’t diminish with each recurrence.

You’re unable to quantify your love, nor would you want to. All you really want is Astarion– his soft lips, tender hands, and whispered words of love– until your dying breath.

[wttcsms]

good morning or afternoon or evening. please think abt my kaiser fic and how you're the only person - save for his father - who knows who he really is, who knows the sad little boy he used to be. even when he's at the top of the world, there's a lingering thought in the back of his mind (you're always on his mind). the little rich heiress whose family owned a chain of supermarkets all over germany. in the harsh winter, when he was dressed in rags of clothing he's long since outgrown, you were waddling around in fur coats with your hair adorned in ribbons and bows.

and when you caught him stealing, you didn't say a single thing.

you start leaving things for him to take. you even wrap the items up nicely, with ribbons and bows, and it reminds him of your hair and you. how pathetic he must be, to have to depend on your kindness, your gifts. even when he snaps at you, you never condemned him. you never stopped being kind. kaiser doesn't know what to do with this information; he only knows that the warm feeling he gets from being around you isn't entirely awful. because it makes him feel less guilty for benefitting from your kindness, he swears that he'll pay you back. "it's a gift." you tell him, and he scowls.

he's never been given gifts before. he doesn't want to start now. he's adamant he owes you one, and he knows that in his current state, he can't pay you back, the girl who has everything, but one day — one day, he'll be able to call things even between you two.

but after the accusations and him getting thrown into jail, him being recruited to play for bastard; it all happened so fast, he didn't get a chance to tell you to not expect him again. it probably wouldn't have mattered, anyway. you look like the type to take in any stray; he was just the filthy mutt that caught your attention for a while, right?

fast forward to now: you're calling your childhood best friend, sobbing, begging him for help. "alexis, can i stay with you?" running away from home, you end up sleeping on the couch of alexis ness's studio apartment. when kaiser walks in, ready to head to the gym with ness, he freezes.

he could recognize you anywhere. you live a private life, but as an heiress, there's the occasional article of you. he's sustained himself by living off of the glimpses of you photographers manage to capture. you still have a blue bow tangled in your hair.

then you turn in your sleep, revealing the bruises on your neck, as if someone had tried to — succeeded, really — in strangling you. kaiser would be able to tell.

when you wake up, you're instantly confronted by the ghost from your past. pitifully, you explain it all: you're set to enter a marriage of convenience. the marks around your neck are a gift from your fiancé, your husband-to-be. it's a reminder that he's kind enough to keep you around, so you better get your act together. now that you've run away from home, you can't return. your family doesn't know what you've had to endure; all they see is a spoiled brat running away from her responsibilities. you're entirely cut off, with no access to your credit cards or bank accounts, and now you're in a foreign country with the only familiar faces being him and ness.

kaiser seems colder than he used to be. more jaded, even more guarded than before. he scoffs, takes in your pitiful state, and then he has to look away.

"i'll take care of you." he leaves no room for argument. "i owe you, after all."

[noacfapologyst]

night love confessions — matty healy

summary: after a night party, matty has the idea (or the need) to confess his love to you.

warnings: some kind of mention about get drunk, alcohol, drugs and substances (but nothing very explicit) nocturnal melancholy, sad atmosphere and some mentions of touches.

wordcounter: 3,4k

a/n: hey everybody! this is my first au and even i'm scary i really hope you enjoy and like the story, maybe then could put this into a general universe, but idk, it depends i think if it works and if the people like it. anyway, thanks for giving the chance to read it. last thing, english is not my first language so if something it's bad i apologize for that too.

hope you enjoy it 🖤

The bottles that are opened, the containers that fall to the ground, the footsteps of shoes, the music that resonates through the speakers and deafens your ears.

The group of guys you're looking at, the smile one of them gives you at the end of the track. The adrenaline when listening to the band's new song composed by your friends, the lights that make you lose, you feel everything in slow motion.

You drum your fingers on the red disposable cup, before pouring the harsh liquid down your throat and feeling the traces of the rest on your tongue. There is a silence on you, but then you return to the ring with a small scream of happiness, which perhaps multiplies the state you are by a third.

You don't know how many glasses you've had, enough so that your sobriety is hanging by a thread and the hangover of the morning with your head exploding is too evident, but you know that this time nothing else has been mixed. Last time the story didn't end too well, jumping over security fences outside an abandoned club to end up with a sprained right foot and several bruises is not something you want to repeat two weeks later.

— Does anyone know where the hell Matty has gone? — George exasperates, raising his voice over the speakers. Everyone looks at each other confused, without having a clear answer. — God, this guy is going to give me a bad headache one day. —Although he is drunk and has red eyes, he is at his most sane. — You are surprised and turn your expression into an "o".

— He was here a few moments ago, I swear. — Ross responds a while later, moving up to follow him into the crowd.

You sigh a little tired, lately it has become the same routine and with regret inside you decide that you should abandon the staring contest with the black-haired man who is a few meters in front of you.

— I'll bring him back in a moment, let me take care of this. — You pronounce with difficulty, slurring the words and pouting.

— Well, if you can't find us we're probably outside. — Brown hair appears behind George, and even though you know you know the girl, you don't remember her name. You just know that from time to time she and your friend go to some bars .

— She's right. I need to sleep right now. —Ross exclaims, running the fold of her fingers over the sockets of his eyes. — Find him and then we'll leave.

You know Matty well enough to know that when he separates from the group, there are three places he can be doing: 1) In the outside or inside courtyard smoking some kind of cigarette, it's always a different edition so you don't know what you'll find. 2) In the nearest bathroom, with a card in hand and light white tints under the nose and nails. 3) Flirt with the first person you meet at the bar, spending the little money on drinks that will later be deposited on his bed.

— And if you don't find it, what? —Adam asks, in a tone of total concern.

— I will do it, I promise.

— Just... let us know when you get home, girl. —George closes the conversation and everyone else nods at his request, shakes their heads in response and greets them with a "yes, goodbye" in the air.

You hate a little, a lot, the rock superstar life that your entire band has led, it has been like this for years, but especially since they managed to make their first album become famous so quickly, and have devastated the sales stands and the lists have them in their heads. In fact, while you're debating where to start looking for it, Girls starts playing through the speakers. Great, the world makes fun of you with good satire.

It doesn't matter that you don't have clarity to think, your body moves for you and makes its way through quite a few people, until you touch a wall that has two exits: the bathroom and the courtyard. You breathe and try to lower your level to one less, until your instinct kicks in and you know you'll find Matty smoking.

Then you go out to the inner courtyard with the frost freezing your back. Adam was right, you needed your jacket that you left at his house a few hours earlier. The wind makes your eyes turn to glass in a sense, but you don't plan on giving up when you know you're committed to finding and bringing it home in the best condition possible.

You find it almost at the end of the place, away from the main entrances, which catches your attention. He has his leather jacket over his knees, which leaves his arms unprotected despite how thin they are. He's frowning, and when you get closer you see that he's exhaling and inhaling with a thoughtful expression, there's something troubling him even though you can't figure it out.

You reach his side of him and look for a small place to sit, he still has n't realized that someone else is with him, he's still absorbed.

— No girl today? What a loser. — You wake him up and make him jump in his place. — The boys are gone.

— Shit, girl. You really scared me.— He puts his hand on his chest, exactly on his heart. He gives you a half-shot of his eyes, they're freshly red, and you grimace silently. — She's gone too.

— Who? — You cross your legs, and your fishnet stockings catch on a tile out of place. — Shit, they were new. — You moan and realize that you are freezing.

— Luckily for you, buying another one is not difficult. —Now you are the one who frowns while exhaling a considerable amount of smoke.

— Are you okay, Matty? — You don't know why you use his name, but sometimes it helps to bring him back to reality. You look at him when he shakes his head and laughs sarcastically, his curls are out of control and half of them are hanging over his forehead, but he has not bothered to fix them, his white t-shirt he has small red wine stains on it. You can't help but worry about him even if you don't know what you're really into, he's one of the people you love the most and seeing him so subdued burns you more than the glass you drank ten minutes ago. He starts to close his eyes and breathe easier, or so you think. — Hey, I'll take you home, come on.

— Honey, look at me. It's a fucking party and I'm smoking alone. — Speak in the deepest voice, seriously about the subject. Well, that hurts. — Come here. — He hits the jacket that falls on her knees so that you can rest your head there.

He knows that you will not refuse, perhaps because the jacket will keep you warm, because you are tired or because you are very busy and worried. About him you will do everything he asks. Then he drops his head there and slowly rests his legs on the pavement.

Matty's head is about to explode, and not necessarily because of the amount of cocaine he has consumed, although a significant part of it is a factor. He's grateful to have his head against the wall, although he doesn't remember how he got to that position. because he knows that otherwise he would do anything that would ruin the whole environment, no matter how small and silly it was. Lately he's screwed up more things than he's done right, but maybe this is what he longs for most in his life, that when all this terror and this endless nightmare is over (he's more convinced that it won't) you'll still be there, close to him, to support his head or lean on him.

Silence becomes your best friend over and over again. All he wants to do now is cross his hands below your waist and hold you for as long as he is allowed. But he doesn't, his hands are dirty and he couldn't afford to dirty his girl like that, he feels in the depths of his being that if he touched you even a millimeter he would ruin you to the core.

Basically the same feeling he had about himself several weeks ago, he couldn't take the responsibility of taking away all of your shine and everything that characterizes you as his favorite person. He is drugged and drunk, perhaps more than ever, but in this same hazy state he has discovered that perhaps the reason why he continues doing things without stopping is because it is a barrier to his feelings, it inhibits him from being able to think rationally and from being able to feel, It makes him believe that everything is possible, except being able to have you.

You remain motionless on his lap when you begin to close your eyes and he takes the opportunity to look at you, giving himself every detail, capturing the scene forever in his memory: look at how your locks fall on your forehead, how your chest rises and falls every time you you breathe, and the subtle smile on your lips that is the product of drunkenness that also causes a satirical laugh and then dies in its own tranquility. He also notices when you open your eyes, noticing his determined look and you raise an eyebrow in question.

— I need to die, now. Can we go now? — You whisper, also struggling to hold the moment for as many minutes as possible.

— One more and we'll leave, love. — The nickname causes a cerebral shock throughout your cortex, but you hide it with the freezing air that runs through there and you pass him the lighter that has fallen on the floor.— I'll wake you up... maybe in seven minutes? I can't count. — The two laugh and for a second they hold each other's gaze, shining and reflecting on each other.

— Promise? — You ask, and you raise your little finger.

— Promise. — He intertwines them and it's convincing enough for you that you soon go back to sleep, leaving your hand outstretched. Matty has no intention of breaking that contact, so he takes it upon himself to enjoy the seven minutes like this, usually blowing out some hair that obstructs her view of him.

When he is halfway through the fateful cigarette, he lets out the longest snort of the day. He feels the same as he did in Robbers' video. No, it's nonsense. That song was never written for you, but maybe he's relating it to others.

Oh, but it's automatic, the scene where he's on her lap in timeout, the thought that he could never let you go even if they were apart, everything he's begged for you to stay and all the times you haven't. was able to turn back. All those times when he was the cause of your suffering, when you ended up in the hospital due to his failure, when he wasn't there the day your father left, and how later you said he was fine and that it didn't matter.

Maybe you'd actually sum it up to something like I love you, don't you mind? Because nothing could happen above that, you loved Matty as if he were your other half and even if he meant suffering more than anything else, you accepted it because you preferred to have him than not. But you knew that those opportunities were nil, nothing more would happen with him and the almost kiss a few weeks ago had made it clear.

On the other hand, Matty had started to cry. The taste of the tobacco was now a mixture of salt water and nicotine.

— Time to leave. — He says it slowly, extinguishing the remains against the cement and drying the trace of his face.

They both get back together after a while with some effort. Then you extend your hand to him so you don't lose him in the crowd when you have to cross it. It takes some effort, but you manage to breathe in the fresh air and see the light from the post outside faster than you thought.

—Can I sleep at your house today? My house is...complicated. — The hands of you two let go as both begin to walk along the brick pavement of Manchester. There's a small ringing in your ears but you nod, he's not in the state to show up at his house.

— Yes. — Your direct word calm him to the point that he adopts a calm that does not allow him to see a loose cable in the street and trip over it. — You can't walk, at least not like this. — You say, reaching out to him with concern. — Here we go, big boy.

You grip his wrist tighter, trying to provide some stability, until he changes his grip and runs his hand around your waist, wrapping it around it and pulling you as close to him as he can, seeking to get you inside of him. When he moves his fingers he notices the temperature of your skin.

— You're cold, put on my jacket, please. — He brakes and looks at you defiantly, without losing that tone of chivalry.

— It's okay, we're close to my house. — You comment without paying attention to his frown. Then you see the light about to be left at the beginning of the block and break your hold under his watchful eye.

You run, always holding on to him until the central point of the park that you are crossing. Since you have his hand in yours, you spin him around a few times while neither of you can stop laughing.

They both feel like they are floating regardless of any other part of the world or any other matter. If they both touched their hearts they would discover that it is stronger than ever.

He caresses your cheek and takes the opportunity to smudge an eyelash. Then they melt into an embrace completely overflowing with desperation, love, affection, and the need to freeze there forever. Eternity in this line sounds incredible.

— I'm very glad to have you. — You murmur in his ear, and then you give his a kiss on the cheek. You don't need and don't want him to answer, so you decide to run to the door of your house and wait for him there.

Tomorrow he won't remember this, so it's okay, you tell yourself.

Tomorrow he'll remember every part of this, living it second by second, then it will all come flooding back to Matty breaking him deeply.

Then he arrives at your front door and between some silly jokes and some tripping objects, like your brother's toys or some discarded slippers, you make it to your room, although you need to use your supporting weight to carry Matty inside.

— I'll bring a glass of water and a hangover pill. — You tell him and disappear from your own room.

You go down the stairs and it seems that you also go down to reality.

What the fuck are you doing? What has happened and why hasn't you stopped sooner? You put your hand to your head in frustration and drink water, then fill another glass and look for the pills. Tomorrow you will not only have discomfort from the drink.

You return to the bedroom, opening and closing the door carefully. The scene petrifies you, he is sitting on the white back of your bed, taking up as much space as he can. Then he looks at you, and smiles at you as if he were a child who had just been caught being mischievous. You feel like you could die of lovey-dovey right now.

— I'm going to the bathroom to put on my pajamas. — You open the closet and take out the largest T-shirt you can find, then the pijamas that are clean. — Use this. — You stretch out your arm and he catches the shirt along with a pair of shorts, internally you wish he would finish before you leave the bathroom.

Being used to the routine, taking off your clothes and removing your makeup doesn't take you more than five minutes, just enough for him to scan every corner of the room after changing with quite some effort. He smiles when he sees the box full of Polaroids of you and the entire band, and then feels like he's dying a little more when he sees the self titled car at the head of your furniture.

You open the bathroom door and he needs to swallow hard to keep from stumbling. Even in your pink heart pijamas you look just as spectacular as you do in your black miniskirt and boots.

—You seem very....funny— You scan it and you laugh when you see how short the clothes you gave him are. Then you realize that the mattress is not here, but you don't want to go out and look for another one. —Does it bother you if we sleep together? —It's nothing you haven't done, but it still requires a certain degree of difficulty to ask.

He denies sweetly and moves away as far as he can when you get on your bed, there is an unbearable barrier between the two of you.

So, he lets it out. Something internally takes over him.

— You are my favorite person in the whole world, my love. — He try to whisper it because you force yourself to believe that he thinks you're sleeping. He doesn't manage to whisper it anyway, and you hear his voice begin to crack and his heart begin to pour out. Your greatest fear comes to light when the way he speaks condemns it, you've seen too many movies to know what's coming.

No. He can't do this to you, you can't bear that tomorrow he will forget about this entire night and you must pretend that for a moment it makes sense that he also loves you the same way you do. You want to believe that he dreams of you too.

— Don't do it, Matty. Please do not do it. — You say to him with all your strength, while a swirl of water begins to grow in the sockets of your eyes. —Just... don't.

— Why? — He whimpers and staggers in his speech, he's taking it all on herself not to show you that he's breaking into miles of pieces.

— Because you're high, very high. Tomorrow you won't remember anything about this night and you won't be able to pretend this never happened. — You turn slowly, and then you wipe away the first tear that runs on his eyelid. — I really wish things could be different and that you would make this confession when you're not high.

For a moment he stops talking and you think you've won the battle and that there is a temperance that calms the threat. But he falls apart.

— I love you. I've always loved you and I can't stand another damn minute without telling you. — Tears simply fall down both of their cheeks and soak the pillowcases. You shake your head non-stop in a negative way.

He can't just let go now, at the moment when you're most emotionally vulnerable, so that tomorrow he can go off with the first girl he finds. In the long run it has always been like this, he gets over it and you are still there with a broken heart and forever devoted to him.

—Go to sleep, Matty. — Your request breaks him a little more, the tone destroys him although it is not very strong. — Do not make it harder.

He shifts uneasily, but he also understands that he can't force you to feel the same way. What he doesn't know is that if he just said he wouldn't leave tomorrow, you would run into his arms.

But he doesn't do it, nor does he close his eyes to fall asleep. He's there, watching your every move still. You sigh, unable to bear it anymore, maybe tomorrow you will suffer from it but maybe if you let go now it will be easier to overcome.

— I love you too. The same way you do it. — You kiss his head one last time and murmur one last goodbye before turning to sleep. — And it's been an ordeal for me all this time, because you feel it more when you're high and I feel it more when I'm sober.

Apparently your brain works fast and allows you to fall into some dream where this whole story is happier before reality can attack you.

And that's how they finally fall asleep, the both with their hearts in each other's palms, with more scars than before.

Finally, everything gets comically better when you wake up a few hours later and there's no sign of Matty in your entire room.

Just make out that the glass of water is empty and the pill is not there. You laugh sadly before going to sleep without letting yourself cry again, he doesn't remember anything from the night before.

i won't apologize for this. however, thanks for reading <3 let me know what you thought or if you liked it.

Etiquetas: @cxcx75

[golden-explosions-main]

"Howdy, you already know who I am, so let's stop wasting time and get going," 🌻🎸🌟

(About/Rules below👇)

About: Welcome to Flowey's ask blog! It's a funny thing though, he usually has Frisk (his best friend) by his side when he answers questions, perhaps he feels more comfortable with them by his side? Or perhaps he just needs help with dealing with some the crazier stuff that happens time to time.

They live on the surface together, and both Asgore and Toriel are still divorced but both have shared custody, the teens switch houses every month or so.

Flowey used to go to public school alongside Frisk, but that only lasted nearly three years until a 'bully revenge incident' at 12 years old that got him permanently expelled, ever since then, his mother has been home-schooling him.

At 14 years old, after a very late visit to Alphy's office, he found out that he somehow got his soul back, however it's tinier than it used to be and malformed and lopsided, it also causes him a great deal of physical pain when he experiences strong emotions, he rarely complains though, at least not on the blog.

Proof of said soul. 👇🏻

At 15, he received what they ended up calling a potbot! (created by Alphys) It's a flower pot, but it gives him height, moves around, and has hands! It's not as great as a real body, but it's almost as great. Annnd...not long after that, he lost it in a river and nearly drowned, BUT, after a few months, Alphys gifted him a better one, and it's the one he still uses now. The potbot! (I'm really proud of this thing) 👇🏻

At 16, an Anon temporarily gave Chara their body back and it was revealed that not only has Chara been following their brother for years, but they were also the one responsible for returning his soul to him. They've been keeping in contact as best as they could ever since then.

Also at 16, Flowey and Frisk met a haunted creature who they call ??? or the Doctor (created by Complex) an Amalgamate from another timeline. The Doctor is a powerful mad scientist, who had long ago done something unspeakable which resulted in them being an Amalgamation (there have been several big hints as to who they may be), they have been keeping in contact with both of Flowey and Frisk ever since their introduction, donating their burned black book to Frisk, watching the two teen's lives from afar, the Doctor also seems to have VERY big plans for Suzy (from Undertale and not quite Deltarune(?)

Due to his anxiety, depression, self-hatred and trauma from his childhood and from being a literal soulless murderer, Flowey struggles to make plans for his future, but the love from the people in his life and his hobbies keep him afloat day by day.

Fun fact: Flowey has a surprisingly good relationship with his parents and even more so with his father.

Fun fact 2: He considers Frisk, Chara, Papyrus, and Monster Kid his best friends, with Frisk being his Number One Best Friend Who Is Alive. And being Chara is his Number One Best Friend Who Is Undead.

Most important fact: They live the Sunshine Route timeline or the Sunshine Route AU, it was born from my fanfic series, Growing Pains, which is where the Frisk, Flowey, and River Person blogs are very loosely based on.

---

Rules:

Aside from the occasional swearing and harsh language, I consider this blog to be...fairly SFW, and I'd very much prefer to keep it that way, I'll let you know if I don't like something.

Flowey is very protective of his timeline, he considers himself lucky, so if it or his loved ones are threatened in anyway, he will make threats and be very mean, his bark can be just as bad as his bite, so be careful if you're sensitive to that sort of thing.

I usually prefer to keep things simple for my sanity; and prefer to have the role plays be one on one, so unless you have a very good idea or want to do something helpful, please don't ask to join.

I also prefer to keep things light and funny, something to cheer myself and others up, but I'll allow depressing and dark things to happen if it's well written.

That's it, have a good one!

[noooooooop-e]

~My Songbird~

Chapter 4

As punishment for cheating in the games, Ana was forced to move to a random district.  She was told she would have to train as a peacekeeper if she ever wanted to be welcomed back to the capitol, however, she knew she could never go back to that life.  Regardless, she still had to leave.  She had bribed her way into being sent to District 12, hoping to find her song bird.

As she waited for the train to start, she anxiously started to play with her fingers.  She was excited and nervous at the same time.  She was broken out of her thoughts when someone called her name.

"Senjanus?!"  Ana's jaw dropped.  The man just chuckled in response.

"Yeah so as it turns out, the capitol doesn't love when you sneak into the arena to say goodbye to a friend, or when you throw chairs".  Ana giggled in response. 

"Well it's nice to have a familiar face with me on the journey", she smiled.

It was a long ride, to say the least.  Ana was grateful that she had Senjanus to talk to.  Their conversations made the trip much more bearable.

As time went on, Ana had fallen asleep.  She only had woken up when she heard the sounds of screeching.

The train had finally come to a stop.

Instantly, her face lit up.  She rose to her feet and quickly grabbed her duffle bag, grinning as she eagerly ran off the train.   She waited for Senjanus to catch up before they started to ask around for directions.  She also made sure to ask about any known information about Lucy Gray.

A couple hours went by, and Ana had found herself going in circles, finding that there was nothing truly helpful in finding Lucy.

That was until she heard someone singing.  The voice was unfamiliar, however the melody she had heard before. 

She turned around and her eyes lit up.  'That must be The Covey'.  She thought to herself.

She slowly walked up to the performers, who stopped in their tracks when they saw the woman.

They recognized the girl from the big screen at the reaping.  "Oh my!  You must be Ana!", a tall woman exclaimed, setting down her bass.  "I'm Barb Azure, Lucy Grays cousin.  Oh she's going to be so excited to see you!"

Ana gave her a wide smile as she was surrounded in a firm hug.  "Oh but it must be a surprise!  She's performing tonite' at the hob.  You should surprise her there!"

The blonde chuckled in response.  "Of course!  I'll need some directions though, I've been a lost cause all day", she explained.

A young girl ran up to her, suffocating her in a hug.  "Oh!  Lucy wouldn't stop talking about you!  I swear every day it's always "Ana this~ Ana that~ finally we can get some quiet now that you're here", she joked.  Barb rose a brow at her.

The girl looked at her, confused, before her eyes widened.  "Oh yeah!  How rude of me, forgot to introduce m'self.  I'm Maude Ivory!", she declared, holding her hand out theatrically for Ana to shake.

Ana smiled in response, introducing herself in return.  "Well, I should get going, gotta bring my A game if i'm going to be surprising her!"

Just as Ana was about to leave, Barb immediately cut her off.  "Wait a minute now!  Where are you staying?"

Ana stopped dead in her tracks.  'Oh shit, how did i not plan this out', she thought to herself.  She chuckled nervously.

"Right! Uh that's actually a great question!  I'm sure there is like an inn somewhere!"

Barb just gawked at her in response.

"This is district 12.  The closest thing we got to an inn would be under the broken down bridge.  You can stay with us.  The Covey would love to have you!  Lucy's out and about anyways!  She's performing at the elementary school."

Ana placed her hand on her heart, her eyes lighting up.  "Really?  I don't want to be a bother!". Barb nodded enthusiastically, assuring her that it would be in everyone's best interest.

Hesitantly, Ana accepted, albeit a bit nervous as she happens to be a people pleaser.  She thinks she's intruding on their personal lives.

Little does she know, The Covey is all about chosen family.

Five pm had finally come around, and Ana found herself getting ready in Barb's room.  Maude was helping her fix her hair while the older cousin picked out an outfit for her.

"Aw you look precious!  I can't wait till Lucy sees you!" Barb gushed.

Ana smiled as they began to walk over to the hob, her expression widening as Maude linked her arm around her own.  "You're pretty!  I'm so happy you and Lucy found each other."

"Aww, thank you!  I'm very happy too.  And it's even better knowing she has such an amazing family!"  She thanked Barb Azure as she held the door open for her.

She sat near the front, awaiting the performance.

Her breath hitched as Lucy Gray herself slowly made her way to the stage.  She did an elegant little twirl as she strode in effortlessly.  She took someone's flask and took a long lasting sip before setting it down.

It was around then when she started to play the familiar chords of "Nothing You Can Take From Me".  The song that originally brought her into the capitols heart.

As she continued singing, she locked eyes with Ana.  They widened and she paused for a moment, unable to comprehend the sight in front of her.   A shocked expression quickly turned into an ecstatic one as she resumed her song, not breaking eye contact once.

As the last notes of the song played, the hob erupted in applause, with Ana rising to her feet to join in the standing ovation.  Her head turned to the right as she saw a sprinting Lucy Gray make her way to the girl.

She yelped before giggling as Lucy practically jumped into her arms.

"Oh my god!  What are you doing here?!" Lucy asked, her voice shaking with shock and pure happiness. 

Before responding, Ana eagerly connected their lips, earning a sigh.  Once they released, Lucy buried her head in the crook of Ana's neck.  She shut her eyes as happy tears fell.

Ana smiled affectionately, her hold of the girl not faltering.  "I was sent away for cheating.  They said i'd have to train as a peacekeeper if i ever wanted to go back which- fuck that.  I'll stay here forever then.  Had to bribe the lady into letting me go here", she rushed out. 

Lucy let her drop her back to her feet, her arms still around her neck as she rose to her tips.  She rested their foreheads together.

"All that... for me?" She asked, surprised.  She hugged the woman, now full on crying.  She had missed her so much, and the fact that Ana risked her life and her status for her meant everything.

"Of course, my love.  I want to be with you.  And now we are finally free to be together.  I want to spend my life with you, I don't care where that life is, as long as it's with you".  Ana had to blink away a few of her own tears while saying this. 

"Oh~ I love you so much," Lucy cried.  "I never want to be separated from you again."

Ana placed her hands around the girls waist, smiling down at her.  "And we never will be.  I love you too.  We will never have to leave each other.  I'll always find my way back to you". 

Lucy grinned back up at her.  "And I to you," she whispered before connecting their lips again.

@womenrhot889801 is my main, got hacked. If you want to read the first chapters go to this account please, i’ll probably republish them in the future.

[countrymusiclover]

14 - The Golden Newborns

Princess Red Thief

Part 15

Tag list - just ask to be added @mystrey101 @melvia-ito @kmc1989 @tallrock35

I wasn't sure when we had gotten to the hospital or how they had managed to get me settled down into a bed by how much the pain was taking over every thought that was running through my mind.  Laying my head against the pillows I gasped feeling harsh pain flashing through my abdomen. "God! What is happening to me?"

"Ms. Royal, I'm sorry we're rather swamped today.  The mayor's son was brought after he ate an apple turnover." The hospital room door opened and I felt a wave of relief come over me seeing the familiar sight of my mother.

"Mom!" I sharply changed my words remembering she was still under the evil queen's curse. "Nurse Nolan, what is wrong with me?"

She sat down her chart taking her stethoscope off from around her neck placing it on my swollen stomach listening to the two heartbeats. "I'm not entirely sure just yet.  We'll have to run some tests to see if you're truly ready to deliver your babies.  Is there anyone you'd like us to call?"

"Mr. Gold.  He's my emergency contact." I instantly answered her question knowing he'd probably be able to figure this out sooner than they could.

She nodded leaving the room. "I'll be right back."

"Everly! I'm so sorry I wasn't here when they brought you in.  I shouldn't have let you go to Ms. Swan's place by yourself." Rumple ran into the room an hour later taking my right hand the second he had made his way to my bedside, balancing his other hand on his cane.

Squeezing his hand in mine I knew he felt guilty but it wouldn't help whatever situation we were in at the moment.  Henry and I were both in this hospital for completely different reasons. "Rumple, you couldn't have known.  We're here now.  Let's just hope the babies will come out easily."

"You better be nice to your mother, little ones -" He gasped, barely placing his hand over my round belly.

"Rumple?"

His brown eyes didn't move away from my belly. "I've never felt anything like that before.  It shouldn't be possible, not here especially."

"What are you talking about?" I questioned him so confused until he lifted up my shirt, revealing my stomach that was covered in small black veins. "Rumple, what are those?"

"I never thought it was possible for a witch or witches to be born without their own access to magic.  Yet I think that's what is happening to you, Eve.  I think our babies can only draw magic from other magical people."

"You mean like when Caroline gave birth to Lizzie and Josie in the Vampire Diaries?"

Rumple gave me the most confused look of his entire life. "What are you talking about, lass?"

"Have you never watched the show in the 28 years we've been cursed here?" He gave me no verbal response in return so I began explaining to him what had occurred with the tv show. "Anyway the twins were born without their own magic so they were called siphons."

He looked at me feeling like he had control of the situation anymore and he certainly didn't care to feel this way. "How were these kids successfully born then?"

"They created more magic somewhere else for the babies to want to go after.  So we have to do the same thing with the magic golden egg you put inside Maleficent. Otherwise they will keep feeding off my trapped magic running through my veins until I'm-"

"Don't say it or dare even think that happening to you.  I refuse to let that happen.  I will not let that happen!"

Grasping his hand in mine he finally met my gaze, calming down for a few seconds. "Just for one second we should agree on the babies names if they're born when you're not by my side."

"You can name them whatever you want.  I just need the three of you to be safe. I have to go right now, Everly." Rumple kissed my head running a hand through my hair quickly leaving the room now on a mission to save his family not caring about anyone else. "I'll bring it back to protect you.  I swear it, my princess."

"Hey, are you okay?" I heard Emma's voice outside the hallway, waking me up from the short nap the babies inside me allowed me to have. "What is that?"

I groaned doing what I could to hold myself up enough to see out the window seeing some smoke rolling in our direction that I slumped my shoulders in relief knowing what was really coming at us.  He had successfully brought magic to a land without it. "Kathryn!"

"Are you okay, Ms. Royal?" She rushed inside my room.

I began to speak but cut myself off grabbing my stomach in pain. "Ahh! Get out of me, please.  Help me - before they kill me."

"We need a doctor now!" She hollered into the hallway causing a few other medical workers running into my room trying to ignore the purple fog slowly coming towards the hospital.

I was told I had to sit up with my legs open and then start pushing. The contractions started coming closer together when I gave my first few pushes. My heart started banging against my chest and I already felt tired. "It's starting to come out. Just a few more big pushes."

My hands were almost turning white while I gripped the handle of the dagger. Sweat was sticking to my forehead with the white hair falling over my shoulders appearing to be a mess. "Errr!"

Nodding my head slowly I bared my teeth doing one final push that took the last of my energy that I had left.  An infant's cry filled the room where I threw my head back onto the pillows. Gulping a lump down my throat I slowly controlled my breathing while the other nurse wrapped the baby in a blanket. "Congratulations, you have a baby girl."

"And the other is a boy." Baring my teeth I clutched my eyes tightly closed using the last bit of energy and strength that was left inside my body till suddenly another infant cry filled the room.

Kathryn came over, handing me the baby girl first and holding my son in her arms since I couldn't hold two babies very good at the moment. "Did you have names already picked out?"

"Valerie for the girl and Robin for the boy.  Valerie and Robin Gold."

Suddenly before my eyes a cloud of dark red smoke appeared inside the hospital room and once it cleared away I saw Rumple standing before me and my still cursed mother holding his son in her arms. "How did you get in here like that? Wha - wait a second why am I starting to recognize you from somewhere else?" She muttered, eyeing him up and down with curiosity.

Rumple didn't pick up on what she had said, too worried about me and our newborns. "Everly, I'm relieved it worked.  How are you, how are our twins?"

"Rumple, We're all fine.  Come meet your son and daughter." I gestured for him to come over with the moving of my head where he sat down on the edge of the bed looking at his daughter who had his dark brown eyes and appeared to have small locks of my blonde hair.

Kathryn slowly handed him his son still trying to figure out how she knew the man before him and then it donned on her. "She called you Rumple - as in Rumplestilskin."

"I think you have the wrong man, Ms. Nolan." He attempted to lie, not sure if the curse had been broken even with magic now flowing throughout Storybrooke.

Her next words caused me to take my attention away from my newborn daughter, wanting for this day to come from the moment I had remembered who I truly was in this town. "Rumple.  You're Rumplestiltskin the man my daughter loves - Everly!" She covered her mouth with her hands instantly sobbing happily.

"Mother." I squealed out like a child crying happy tears finally having her and everyone else know who they truly were back in the Enchanted Forest.  "The curse is finally broken."

She grinned, wiping away some more tears that had slipped down her face, eyeing my lover holding our newborn son in his arms. "Oh my sweet girl we have so much to talk about."

"Princess Abigail, glad to see you've returned." Rumple spoke towards her.

My mother waved her index finger in his face with her warning tone. "First things first Rumplestilskin.  I demand to know two things: why didn't I know she was pregnant and are you married to my daughter or not?"I knew she wouldn't want to hurt him but I wasn't sure the same would be said of my father Fredrick. This was definitely going to be an interesting family reunion for all of us.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[momonnie]

Just hold my hand

«okay, i trust you.»

ice-skating with your bf rin! except he is not very skilled...

"you got this.. you got this.. yo-" and he fell.. again. you two were currently at the rink on a date, but it's rin's first time and he can't stop but falling.

of course it doesn't bother you, it would be quite the opposite in fact. after all he's so adorable (and hot) in these skates and the way he can't stop but looking at his feet while his hands are on yours, makes him look ,oh, so cute. besides, it's not like you could just leave him and go skate freely. where would be the purpose of this date?

in reality, at first he was completely against this idea. liking ice-skating or not wasn't the problem but.. he doesn't know how to skate. you're gonna tell me that he can still learn, where's the problem? and the problem is.. you. He absolutely hates the idea of looking like an incompetent in your eyes or some loser.

"it's okay, try again babe!" you smile at him without even a dust of despise in your eyes. "i'll make you succeed!" you said while taking his hands and raising him off the icy ground. "i just can't do it, i play football not this shit. you're not even having fun with me around, i just keep falling anyway." he looked away, getting ready to watch you leave him and go skate on your own. but you're not moving, you're staying right there. pulling on his hands, still on yours, you make him slide close to you and with one hand you reach out to his now rosy cheek, and not from the cold, getting his attention back.

"look, i'm having fun here with you right now more than with anyone else or alone." he swears your voice is the softest thing he could ever hear in his life. "and you know why with you and not someone else ? because i love you, you and your adorable panicked expression each time you make a move, sweetie" with this, you give him a quick peck to his lips, making him lean in. in response to this, rin replies with one hand raising his scarf in order to hide his now reddish cheekbones. "are you sure?" and he hopes you'll say yes. "is that even a question, my love?" he raises a bit more his scarf. "stop with the pet names.."

"oh? you don't like it baby?" your grin was getting wider. "it's not that.. you're just gonna make me shake hands with the ground once again if you continue." you laugh and hug him, you just can't resist to his cuteness. "so, let's try again!" you take his hands and start slowly skating backwards, dragging him along with you, as the panicked expression regains rin's face. "you got this love, just push your feet slowly" and he does as you say...without falling! "see? told ya!" your face gets more bright as soon as you see a smile on your lover's one.

"okay, now i'll let go of-" he cuts you off immediately after hearing you wanted to let go of him, tightening his grip on your hands. "no! don't." you let out a little sigh. "rin, you can do it. i know i-" he interrupts you again. "no, i still don't want to." his puppy eyes don't let you much of a choice. (damn we have a soft rin here, just take him at the rink)

"okay, then let's skate side by side, hold just one of my hands" he hesitates but your soft and reassuring gaze convinces him easily. "okay, i trust you." you start skating again, leading him by your hand and he keeps pushing on his feet till it becomes almost automatic, and he lifts his head to you, already looking at him lovingly.

He blushes but returns the gaze, and you're sure you'll definitely make him come again..

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 18

And I'm back!! I'm so happy to return to writing this fic for you guys, and for the long time I've been away, I've made sure to make this next chapter extra long for you all - at almost 6k words! (Which is a feat for me lol) So good news aside, I am unfortunately not going to be posting weekly anymore, as I have just started uni, and I already have a lot of studying to do. But I can promise that I will be posting chpaters as frequent as I can, I'll just be limiting myself to make time for my academic side of life. Anyways, Enjoy! <3

Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls end up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.

Tags: Kili x oc/reader - Fili x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company × ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 5960

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, claustrophia, accidental drowning, swearing.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 17 // Chapter 18 // Chapter 19 >

Part 2: Chapter 18 -

Into the thick of it.

Selenotropism (Definition): Growth in response to moonlight. (Noun / Origin: Classical Greek / Se·lee·no·trop·isum)

The Old Forest, Outer Hobbiton, The Shire – T.A. 25th October 2939 of the Third Age (1339 in Shire-reckoning)

I had strayed from the path a while back, grass replacing the smooth stones that marked the paths circling Hobbiton. Only the dying light of my small lantern accompanied me, I foolishly realised, as I had not planned ahead for this spur-of-the-moment outing – thinking I could rely on the shine of the moon, but I forgot that it was a new phase, so all that was ahead of me was the gaping darkness, as it tempted me deeper into the towering trees of the Old Forest.

By now, any glow from the lights left outside each hobbit hole had vanished behind the silhouettes of thick trunks and bushes that surrounded me. The only luck I had to return before Bilbo’s curfew was if I stumbled upon a road that led me back, and, I managed to guess the correct direction that wouldn’t lead me into the wilderness. Just because I had a map of Middle Earth on my favourite mug back home, didn’t mean I had memorised it. Which, at this point, was my biggest downfall.

I inhaled deeply through my nose, taking in the sharp, fresh air that came with a clear late evening, like a cold glass of water, that was blissful on your throat at 2am. Approaching one of the taller trees, I plopped myself down against its trunk and stretched my legs out. Many thoughts passed over my mind, memories from Earth, things I owned that would never be found here, but what stuck, was thoughts of my family; Where they were; if time continued on, and, if the two of us reported missing. How they would cope with the news. That was the one thing I dreaded – considering how sensitive my family was. I wondered about Bella, my dog. Knowing her singular braincell, it’ll take her a few years to realise I’m gone. I smiled at the thought of my dogs face as she pounced around the fields in search of rabbits, her thin ginger tail whipping back and forth. Her warm brown eyes staring intently at me from in between the long grass, the iris’ flickering with green.

Wait – green?

Bella’s eyes weren’t green.

I blinked rapidly, returning my senses to my surroundings. Pressing the bases of my palms against my eyelids, I blinked them open, and realised that the green eyes weren’t leaving – they were in fact, in front of me.

I grabbed my lantern and held it up, stretching my arm out to allow the dying flame illuminate the bushes that sat a few yards ahead of my feet. With baited breath I stared arduously at the small gap of leaves, until a flash of green flickered, and the pair of green eyes returned, this time with a physical body.

Placing one paw in front of the other, the shadow silently crept out from beneath the darkness of the leaves, almost like a hunter stalking its prey. Light shimmered like gold on ebony fur, and with a twitch of its ear, a black cat emerged, traipsing into the light.

A soft gasp left my lips, watching it stop just before where my feet lay, and I felt a smile warm my face. Any sorrowful thought that plagued my mind earlier was now whisked away at the sight of the small feline.

“Hello,” I whispered, as I gently placed the lantern down, watching as the cat’s emerald eyes flickered over me, following my every move. “Where did you come from?”

As slowly as before, I lowered my hand to the ground, and carefully moved it towards the creature, stopping just past my toes. To my delight, the cat took another cautious step forwards, it’s black nose lifting to sniff the air, before lowering it to my curled fingers. My pinkie twitched slightly, and the cat took a step back, returning to sit where it had revealed itself by the bush, the end of its tail flicking slightly from where it rested on the grass.

“No touching? That’s ok.” I murmured, taking my hand back and placing it on my lap. Minutes passed by, where the two of us simply observed each other, getting used to the other’s presence whilst waiting for the other to move.

My head raised suddenly, Bilbo’s stern face appearing at the forefront of my mind, and I remembered my curfew. Getting to my feet as calmly as I could to not startle the creature in front of me, I brushed off the fallen leaves that had caught themselves on my shift and coat, and picked up my lantern.

I had only taken a couple steps, when a ‘meow’ sounded from behind me. Puzzled I turned around to see the cat was now by my feet, it’s eyes wide as it approached me, almost playful.

“Huh?” Was all I said.

It meowed again, white teeth flashing as it opened its mouth to make the sounds.

“I’m sorry but I have to go.” I replied gently. “Or Bilbo will have my head.”

I went to walk away once again, but jumped with a start as I looked down to find it had appeared in front of me, but this time with something familiar in its mouth. Squinting, I gasped in outrage when I realised what it was.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, shoving my hand into the inner pocket of my coat, only to find it open and missing the one thing that was supposed to be inside it. Though I knew where it had gone – and it was currently trotting away with its tail held high.

Turning on my heel, I strode after the cat, keeping the lantern as high as I could to not lose the dark-furred feline to the darkness it could oh-so easily blend into. Eventually I broke into a run, frustrated at the sight of the cat as it only got further away.

“Come on!” I cried with heaving breaths – bed rest had not been courteous to my stamina levels. “That’s important to me! You can’t just take it!”

Said thing was a braided leather bracelet, cream in colour, with a red button sewn on as a clasp. It was a handmade gift from my grandad, one I had kept close to me and cherished since his passing three years ago. And I certainly wasn’t going to part with it any time soon.

My walking boots thumped heavily against the ground. Whilst working perfectly well on the wild terrain, they were certainly not suited for running, as my feet began to feel like they have become big hooves – too heavy and stiff for these kinds of escapades. Shoving away a low hanging branch, I then leaped over a twisted root, only to cry out as my still-healing ankle gave way, and I hit the ground with a thud.

With a groan, I pushed myself onto my elbows before twisting over to sit up. The cat came back into my mind, and I whipped my head around, ignoring the throbbing aches from the points of impact my body graciously had with the ground.

The glass of my lantern was smashed on the ground in front of me, and in the final flickers of the flame, my eyes landed on a large rabbit hole in the middle of a hollowed tree trunk, and as I climbed to my feet, I caught a flash of green from in the shadows. Marching over, I kneeled down, braced my hands on either side of the rotting bark, and peered into the darkness.

It was an exceptionally large tunnel, big enough for me to fit into. Roots of all sizes twisted and hung from the walls and roof of soil. The odd beetle appeared, before dashing away again, and as the flame behind me finally died, I went to give up on the rescue.

With a snap, a twig broke behind me, and I spun around, only to let out a scream as the rotten bark crumbled in my hands as it gave way. Feeling a sharp knock against my head, I watched the world go black, feeling myself tumble into the darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“C’mon c’mon c’mon.” I whimpered, working my trembling hands as best as I could to strike the match against the rough side of the cardboard box. It really helped sometimes when I forgot to empty all my pockets, feeling extremely lucky that matches were one of the things found. What didn’t help was the uncontrollable tears that began to pool in my eyes – and also that fact that I was stuck in a narrow tunnel in the complete pitch black.

With a crackle and a hiss, the small flame burst to life in between my fingers, and I craned my head the best I could to look down either side of the tunnel, hindered by the fact that it was so narrow, my back was arched forwards and my neck was constantly bent over at the low ceiling. The tightening in my chest also meant the claustrophobia was kicking in big time.

Trying my best to look down both sides as much as I could through the blur of my tears, I noticed that one end trailed upwards, and decided that was my best option to fining the way out. Feeling the heat of the flame grow, I quickly blew the match out, and summoning all the energy I had left, I flopped onto my front, and began to commando crawl up through the darkness.

Digging my elbows and knees into the soil, I clambered onwards for what felt like a quarter of an hour, whilst also lighting the odd match, checking that there wasn’t any other tunnels that I would accidentally take. It was odd that I was so far down, and I wondered whether or not I landed down there naturally.

Soon, to my luck, the fresh air from earlier began to replace the damp and stagnant, the tunnel widening enough for me to stand on my knees, and I felt relief wash through me knowing I was almost out. Lighting a match, I raised it up, only to see a large hole above me just a metre ahead, with a familiar wall of bark surrounding it. Shuffling myself closer whilst trying to keep the match alight, I went to reach to the edge of the hole, when something caught my eye.

Adding on to the very odd things that had happened to me on this night, I stared bewildered at my bracelet hanging right in front of me, hooked onto an even odder-looking piece of wood. My hand quickly shot out, grabbing it and stuffing it to the bottom of my deepest pocket, making sure it was zipped up securely, safe and tight.

Lighting another match, I looked back, holding the small flame up as I eyed the piece of wood curiously. It didn’t look quite like a root – the end was too thick and blunt, and was covered in parts that were unnaturally smooth, a darkened colour as if someone had crawled down here and decided to carve and polish random parts of tree roots, leaving them to stick out about several inches from the soil. Reaching out, I poked and prodded at it with my fingernail, before slowly wrapping my hand around it. A pull.

But I didn’t pull it.

Before I knew it, my hand was jerked forward, sucked into the wall as if I had stuck my hand into the flesh of a giant slimy slug, and I quickly began to panic, my eyes widening as I watched soil wrap around my wrist like short, stubby tentacles to pull it in further. The squelching and crumbling of wet dirt and rock contorting around my limb echoed through the tunnel as I realised that I couldn’t let go of the stick, so trying my best to think rationally through the crushing fear of becoming part of the ground, I leant onto my back and lifted my legs up, bracing my feet against the wall. With all my might, I gritted my teeth together as I grasped my rapidly disappearing arm, and pulled.

I let out a loud grunting breath as I felt it give way a little, but quickly repositioned as I prepared to pull again. But before I could, a deep sound resonated in my ears, drowning out the noises of moving dirt, and every hair on my body stood on end, terror pinging through every vertebrae along my spine, the one sound I had wished to never hear again pounding against my ear drums.

Feeling the colour drain from my face, I slowly turned my head to my right, until my eyes landed on an oh-so familiar shape down in the tunnel.

It was blue.

Slitted eyes pierced into my own as I fixated on the terrifying creature from my dream, and a tsunami of panic crashed over me, for this time I wasn’t in a dream – and this was very much real.

With a cry, I returned to my arm, bracing my legs and pulling with all my might. My eyes darted back down the tunnel, and the creature lurched, it’s claws reaching out to gouge the dirt as it tried to pull its large body towards me. If they could gouge dirt, they could certainly gouge me. Sobs racked through my throat as I frantically tugged at my arm, feeling my fingernails break skin as I clawed uncontrollably at my wrist, that was slowly but surely revealing itself.

Letting out a scream with one final pull, my hand shot out, hitting me in the nose. Through the uncontrollable watering of my eyes, I watched as the soil closed itself back up, spiralling inwards like an alien mouth until it became part of the tunnel wall once again. A roar much closer than before pierced my ears, and I darted for the hole above me.

Hands clawed and gripped at grass as I clumped bundles of it up, pulling my torso up and over the edge whilst my feet scrambled and slipped against roots and waterlogged soil.

I managed to hook one knee over the edge, and went to drag the other up, when something pulled against it. Blood pumped through my ears as I looked down, only to find that the bandage around my ankle had snagged against a root. I pulled my foot up again and again, only to find that the know holding it together refused to budge.

“Curse Erard and his perfect bandaging!” I cried.

Remembering what I had put in my coat pocket earlier, I stuck my hand in to pull out my sewing scissors, and quickly got to work, hacking away at the cream material.

It was just in time, because as soon as my foot landed on the grass, a glowing blue set of claws shot out. I screamed in terror, then howled in pain as one of the hooked appendages nicked my shin, and I clambered to my feet, sprinting full power into the darkness.

Tears ran down and across my cheeks, and hair whipped across my face and neck as I raced between the dark silhouettes of trees and stumbled over unseen roots, hoping to whatever deity was out there that I was going the right way. Adrenaline had replaced any feeling as I tried to put as much distance between myself and that godforsaken hole.

I decided to only take a moment, hands gripping my knees as I arched over to catch what breath I’d lost, air rattling through my lungs as I tried my best to stop my breaths from shuddering and shaking. My back pressed against a trunk as I tried to shrink my shoulders together, hiding myself as best as I could whilst I recovered. Though an odd feeling in one of my hands had my eyes blinking open, and in the darkness, I could just make out the outline of a thin object in my hand. Running my fingers up and down the surface, I recognised it: I had not let go of the oddly shaped stick, the one that caused my hand to be sucked into a wall by some unseen force. Doing my best in the pitch black, I tried to make out the shapes and features on the stick of wood – surprisingly straight, and thinned out slightly at the top end, and I wondered if someone had dropped their toy wand down a rabbit hole.

Leaves rustled nearby, and I quickly spun around. Though I had not watched my surroundings, and my arm collided with the trunk, knocking the stick sharply against the bark.

A light.

A spark.

Then a bang.

I let out a scream, my arm coming up to shelter my face against the splinters of wood that flew past me. Lowering it, my eyes widened like saucers as I gawked at the sight in front of me.

The tree that stood to the right of mine was now smoking, the edges of the gaping hole that pierced all the way through the trunk glowing an orange, whilst embers floated, before slowly lowering to the ground.

My hands flew up unconsciously in surrender, when I looked to my right hand, looking accusingly at the perpetrator. Just barely, I managed to spot the tip as a light faded until it returned to looking like any other smoothed out stick off a tree.

Though I guess it wasn’t just a stick.

Thundering footsteps vibrated heavily through the ground, and up my legs. Daring to look around the tree, my eyes landed on the blue outline of the creature as it spread its wings, using them to help it skid to a stop, mud spraying everywhere (which was odd, considering I could still see through it).

I held my breath, begging for it to move on. It raised its horned head, taking deep breaths as it searched for scents in the air – most likely mine – and I prayed that the light wind blowed in my favour.

A creak, then a groan, then more creaks, sounded from beside me. Both me and the creature slowly turned our heads, watching as the tree with the hole began to splinter at the sides of the hole, bits of wood springing out as the upper half pressed its weight down. With a loud, creaking BANG, the sides gave way, and the upper half slammed down onto its lower half, before letting out a long, resounding groan as it fell to the side, and my body shrunk in on itself, cringing at every loud noise that drew the creatures attention to my hiding spot. Hitting the ground with a final mighty crash, branches and leaves snapped off whilst birds from all around scattered at the sudden noise.

Finally, I let my body relax, shaking off the tension as the foliage settled once again, and I peeked around my tree once again, only to find that the creature was looking directly at me.

Taking cautious steps, I slowly began to back away, only for the creature to lower its head,  and it began steadily stalking towards me, just like it had done on our first meeting.

Feeling the fear and panic pierce through me once again, I racked my brain for a way out. I glanced at the stick in my hand. Raising my arm, I hesitantly pointed it at the creature. Its eyes landed on what I was pointing, at it let out a roar, and broke into a run. I sped up my backwards walking, keeping my arm raised, and without thinking, I brought it back, and gave it a powerful flick.

Just like before, a spark shot out the end, flooding the forest with light for a moment, crossing the distance in less than a second before landing a direct hit on the beasts head.

The blast sent it flying backwards, and it crashed into the bushes behind it, vanishing amongst the leaves after leaving an outline of its landing. I punch the air, letting out an uncontrollable shout of triumph. Though that was short lived, as the beast let out another roar, more aggressive than the last. Oh, I had pissed it off big time.

Stumbling over my own feet, I darted back the way I had come, speeding as fast as my legs would allow, praying that the lights of Hobbiton would appear again soon.

To my luck, as if someone was watching over me, I finally felt the stone path, that I had foolishly abandoned earlier, back under the soles of my boots, and looking up, I smiled, relieved, at the sight of a street-lantern just metres ahead. I could finally see properly. I continued down the path at the same running speed, not letting any false sense of security fall over me. The banks at either side of the path grew higher and higher as the stones travelled downwards towards the first set of houses, until one fell away to reveal the town. Behind me, my ears picked up the sounds of footsteps again, and I whipped around, raising the stick once more to point it at the creature, this time aiming for between the eyes.

It skidded to a halt at the edge of the forest, kicking up another spray of dirt as it did. It stood there, nostrils flaring, with what looked like smoke emitting from them and from between the gaps of its mouth. Claws dug into the ground as it stood on the bank that towered above me, its eyes boring into mine before flicking down to what was in my hand.

A growl erupted from its throat, one that you would feel in the ground rather than the air, it was that deep. It snapped its jaws, teeth flashing and saliva dripping and disappearing into thin air. To my surprise, with a flick of its spiked tail, it tucked in its wings and turned around, vanishing into the forest.

A breath escaped me, and I relaxed every tensed muscle, whilst patting my chest to calm my quivering heart. I reached up and rubbed my neck, moving my head around in a full circle to feel those satisfying pops in my spine. I also shook my arms and legs out, ridding what I could of my remaining adrenaline.

Doing a quick scan of the area, I figured everyone was still in bed, despite the loud screams and shouts I had made while deep in the forest. I made a reminder to never get myself back into any sort of danger whilst staying with hobbits, because you could guarantee that they would snore through the whole ordeal unless you smashed their window in screaming bloody murder.

After confirming that nobody was watching me, I began the trek up to Bilbo’s house. Despite the fact that no one heard me in the woods earlier, it didn’t mean that I didn’t want to be found wandering around after hours, so I decided to take the long but hidden route around the outskirts of the town.

‘At least it’s scenic.’ I thought to myself, but remembered immediately afterwards that I wouldn’t be able to see most of it considering the sun was non-existent right now, and the nearest lanterns were at least a couple metres away from the path.

Jogging over one of the stone bridges, I walked along the path until I reached the banks of one of Hobbiton’s lakes. Across it, I could make out the lights from Bilbo’s kitchen windows up the hill, and sped up. Walking past a cluster of bushes, I looked over them at the small lake beside me, only to stop in my tracks.

On the grassy bank on the other side of the lake, Kay stood in only her shift and socks, deathly still. Her head was tilted down slightly, strands of wavy copper hair hanging down and concealing her face slightly as she stared into the watery depths.

I stared apprehensive – she had never done anything like this before. Unless she had a secret hobby that included staring at water (when she knows she can’t swim yet), then there definitely was something wrong. Silently lowering into a crouch, I hid myself behind the bushes, and crawled on my hands until I was able to peek around the leaves.

She still hadn’t moved from her standing position, though after a moment passed, her leg moved out, and she took a single step forward, and leaned over slightly.

Yeah, there was definitely something wrong.

I went to stand up, planning on marching over there and dragging her away for an explanation, when I stumbled slightly. My hand shot out to grab at a branch of a bush, only for it to let out a crack that resounded through the silence of the night.

Kay’s head snapped up, and I immediately stilled, staring in horror.

From where I was, I could see that her eyes had turned completely white, reflecting in the yellow glow of the street-lantern nearby, and was that blue on her cheeks?? No, no blue anymore. I remained as still as I could – I didn’t trust white eyed Kay – and remained in the shadows until she slowly turned back towards the water.

A minute passed, where she only stood, then she took another step forward, her toes at the edge of the grassy bank that held her up about half a metre higher above the water level. She leaned further. And further. I was preparing to call out, when she fell, sending a wave to crash over the still surface of the water, and I rushed to my feet.

Nuh uh, there was no way I’m having some water-obsessed demon possess my only earth friend to jump in lakes!!

(Well, more like belly flopped.)

Rounding the edge to where she had stood, chucking the stick in my hand on the ground, and I dived in, getting flashbacks to pulling her out of that pond when we first fell here. In the black depths, I stuck my arms out, hoping to catch onto her at some point.

A turquoise glow appeared from near my feet, and brushing the blurred outlines of pondweed aside, I made out the fuzzy silhouette of Kay as she floated unmoving over the glow, though one of her arms was outstretched, reaching towards it. I then reached out and grasped her shoulder, only for her to begin thrashing in my grip. Despite her flailing, I managed to keep my hands on her, and started dragging her to the surface.

Breaking the surface, I gasped for air, and brought Kay with me, only for her to worsen. This time, she replaced thrashing for screeching, her hands shooting out to claw at where mine were on her biceps. At one point she leaned over to bite me, and I noticed something ghastly.

Her teeth had become pointed and fang-like, snapping menacingly just like the creature had done earlier as it chased me through the woods.

Deciding that enough was enough, I swam towards the shore. More like flopped around, considering I had a feral, possessed Kay in my grip trying to gnaw my arm into a stub.

Reaching a part of the bank that slowly raised into short pebble beach, instead of the miniature grassy cliff, I managed to find my footing, and quickly let go of Kay to shrug off my heavy, now waterlogged coat and chuck it onto the shore. Turning back, I stood and watched as Kay remained on her front in the water, her hands gripping onto the stone as she lifted her head up to glare at me with her white eyes. I took a small step forward, and she bared her teeth, emitting a cat-like hiss. I put my hands on my hips.

“Alright, mermaid time is over.” I deadpanned.

She hissed again, and pushed back against the rocks, trying to re-submerge herself. Acting quick, I kicked at the water, emitting a wave that hit her directly in the face. Whilst she flailed distracted at the attack, I lunged forward and grabbed her under the armpits. She shrieked, arms twisting and flapping about to try and claw at my arms again. Though she had cut her nails recently, so all that she left were shallow red and white lines along my forearms. Dragging her onto the stones, I pinned her down by the shoulders and tried speaking over her hissing and screaming.

“C’mon, you can’t just go –” *HISSS*  “ –Stop it. I said you can’t just go around jumping into water whenever you feel like it and expect me to drag you out each time!”

A hand came out and slapped against the side of my head, and I sucked in a breath, gritting my teeth. Shutting my eyes for a second, I let out the breath and opened them again to meet Kay’s white ones, and came to my last option.

“You asked for it.” I warned, raising my eyebrows at her accusingly.

And slapped her across the face.

Letting go, I watched as she rolled over, groaning, and curled in on herself, then stilled. A moment passed, and her head shot up, whipping around with a frown on her face, along with a red mark shining prominently on her left cheek. What was relieving though, was the fact that her eyes had returned to her usual grey. Raising her hand to her cheek, she glared at me.

“The fuck was that for??” She whinged. “That hurt.”

“That hurt?? Then what the hell do you call this??” I raised my forearms up, accidentally flicking water everywhere, to show off the scratches and bitemarks along the skin. She gawked at them with wide eyes, but opened her mouth, outraged.

“I didn’t do that!!” She cried.

“Yes you did! For some reason you thought tonight would be a good time to play mermaids, and have been kicking and screaming ever since, all the while I’ve been trying to drag you out to stop you from drowning yourself!”

“Drag me out – ?” Looking to the side of me, her mouth hung open as she spotted the lake behind me, then down at her clothes, reaching to pull at the drenched shift that was clinging to her skin. “I was – I was in the forest!”

“The forest? What were you doing there?!” I questioned.

“I was there to ask you the same thing!” She exclaimed. “I followed you! To make sure you weren’t doing anything stupid after Bilbo had said you went for a walk. I ended up losing you for a bit when you ran after something, and when I found you looking into that giant rabbit hole, I ended up snapping that twig that scared you into falling in.” She frowned. “Then I think I blacked out, and woke up here – to you slapping the shit out of me, might I mention!” She accused, shoving a soggy finger in my direction.

My hands flew up in protest. “Yeah, cause you were acting possessed! I was walking back to Bilbo’s when I saw you standing on the bank just staring into the water like that girl from The Ring, then you fell in, and when I tried to get you out, you eyes were white and your teeth had magically become sharp for some reason!” I replied, gesturing to the shallow puncture marks in my arms. “All you had to do was grow a fish tail and I would’ve officially thought I was going mad!”

Kay stared incredulously, her mouth hanging open wide enough to catch an entire hoard of flies as she remained in a shocked silence.

“White eyes.” I nodded. “Sharp. teeth.” I nodded again.

“Would I lie about something as crazy as that?” I asked.

Slowly, she shook her head.

“So I went all demon on you?” She questioned, a guilty look on her face.

I thought for a moment. “More like feral mermaid.”

She raised her eyebrows, intrigued by that version.

“But you had no control over yourself.” I stated, and she went back to frowning, deflated at the revelation.

We both sat there, drenched hair clinging to our faces and clothes heavy and dripping with lake water. I ended up pulling a few pieces of pondweed off from where they had caught on my shoulders and legs. Flicking away a piece on my ankle, a tiny nudge of movement caught my eye, and I let out a gasp at the sight of a stick almost identical to the one I had found, held loosely in Kay’s hand. I pointed at it.

“Where did you get that?” I questioned.

She eyed me, confused, then her eyes switched to where I was pointing. Frowning deeper, she quickly brought it up to her face, examining it with wide eyes, before bringing it away and gingerly dropping it down between us.

“I have never seen this before in my life.”

We both stared at the stick as it laid on the pebble shore. Kay got startled as I then scrambled to my feet, kicking stones everywhere, and she watched as I ran along the shoreline, before skidding to a stop to grab something off the ground, and sprinting back. Flopping back onto my spot, I placed my stick next to hers, watching the realisation dawn on Kay’s face as she stared at them.

“I found mine,” I jabbed a finger at it, whilst catching my breath, “Down that rabbit hole I fell down.” Kay’s head shot up to look at me in shock. “It was sticking out of the soil, and when I tried to pull it out, the wall tried sucking me into it, a bit like how you were possessed and almost drowned when getting yours.”

Kay’s eyes glazed over as she stared, her mind most likely travelling a million miles a second as she tried to comprehend the newly revealed information.

“And mine did something.” I added slowly. “I don’t know how, but I ended up blowing a tree to smithereens with it.”

Her eyes refocused, and bore directly into mine.

“Like a wand.” She muttered.

I nodded. “Like magic.”

“There you are!”

We both screamed, jumping high in the air. I toppled over, though quickly regained myself to look up and see a very disgruntled Bilbo standing on the grass at the edge of the beach. He tapped his foot in place, his hands on his hips while a lantern sat at his feet.

“Jesus Bilbo! Where on Earth did you come from?!” I cried, clasping my chest as I tried to steady my breathing. Poor Kay looked as if she was about to cry from fright.

“I came looking for you two!” He pointed at me. “Your curfew ended two hours ago, and you!” He pointed at Kay. “You were supposed to be in bed! Imagine my panic when I found out you weren’t! And look where I find you, playing wizards in the freezing water!” He gestured to the sticks between us.

We both hung our heads, unsure on what to tell him. He looked at the two of us, and let out a long sigh, picking up his lantern.

“Right, come now. You must change out of those shifts and dry them before Mrs Greenfoot has you both by the ear.”

We stood up, both discreetly picking up the sticks and slipping them up our sleeves. Walking up to Bilbo, I grabbed my coat.

“Hurry now, can’t have you both developing an illness now.” He fussed.

“Yes mother.” I jabbed playfully as I passed him, listening amused at the sputtering match that went on behind me, before the hobbit grumbled under his breath, and ushered us along back up the path.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[dollarbin]

Shakey Sundays #8:

Ragged Glory

Some things are worth waiting for.

At age 14 I dedicated way too many hours to MTV, hoping to catch Neil Young's Mansion on the Hill. I'd seen the song's video just once; the network had seemingly played it a single time just to tease me.

During my weeks of hapless watching and waiting I tried to remember all the crazy stuff in the video; it entered my dreams and morphed. Had there really been a funeral? Who was dead? Was Young a ghost for all of it? Did a choir really sing the silly lyrics? Was that Neil in the gas station too? Were there dinosaurs at one point? Or was I making that part up? And how did guys my dad's age play such killer guitar?

Well, I never got my answers; instead I saw nothing but Motley Crue's Dr Feelgood. Over and Over Again.

But just now, 34 years later, and thanks to this new technology I'm learning to use called google, I finally got to see the video for Mansion on the Hill a second time.

You can feel Young's burgeoning joy all over this silly video. He'd probably seen Monty Python and The Holy Grail only while stoned on tour and thought his opening gag was entirely original. He's not dead yet!

In midst of my hopeless adolescent search for the video I read in the LA Times that Young had made two additional videos for Ragged Glory, one of which involved high drama between a sexy couple on a balcony. But, reported the Times, neither video had any chance of ever getting a single second of airtime. The writer (it was probably Robert Hilburn, a total dad rock grump who routinely called Use Your Illusion 2 fantastic) mused in the piece on Young's possible motives: Was he delusional? Deceived? Nuts?

Well, making videos exactly how you wanted, which meant you knew would never be seen, sounded genius to me, and I quit watching MTV cold turkey in response. If they weren't going to play Neil Young they weren't going to have me.

I've been thinking about those mythical videos for 34 years straight now. Seriously, I've wondered about them once a month for 408 months in a row. I'm not proud to report this; I'm just a victim of the Dollar Bin (and Jerry Jeff Walker), living my life easy come, easy go...

And now, low and behold, here they are!

Sure enough, this first one, for the hook-heavy Over and Over, has the balcony stuff; witness the serious, VH1 level, drama: a sexy lingerie lady (women in this era of music videos only wore lingerie; none of them owned pants) squares off with an Anthony Bandaras type dude; passion ensues while the band unrelatedly rocks. There's nothing silly enough here for Shakey-level greatness, although it does look like Young did indeed summon his Budokan era wind machines from the Shocking Pinks desertscape. Hurricane force winds are needed for most of Neil's videos.

And then there's the video least likely to ever be seen by me / anyone else as a kid. Had I been a MTV VG at the time, even I wouldn't have played this for fear of a FCC shutdown: there's the swearing in it, sure, but there's also the guitar solos at the 2:30, 3:30 and 4 minute marks that are so gnarly they do not seem safe for public consumption.

Unlike the previous two videos from Ragged Glory, Fubbin' Up contains almost no plot; but half way through Neil does cavort with two different buxom ladies; someone has to stand in for Neil on stage and pretend to shred like him while he stumbles about with them. Neil Young's music videos: they make every Sunday Shakey.

As I've written previously, I do not own Ragged Glory on vinyl. (The lead photo above features my fired up cat and a record store promotion poster I got as a kid and have kept inside my copy of Live Rust ever since.) If you've got the record on vinyl and want to swap I'll gladly send you my copy of Old Ways in return (then I'll go buy another copy of that 80's masterpiece to mediocrity; I saw one yesterday for $8; where the hell were all the copies of Old Ways up until a year ago?).

Anyway, when I was 14 I bought Ragged Glory on tape and, truth be told, it was a little over my head. I loved it, sure, but like another perfect record of that era, The Cure's Disintegration, it was just too damn long for my adolescent attention level. I'd especially get lost during Love and Only Love and Love To Burn. The songs seemed interchangeable to me, and on some level they still do.

While we're at it, I'm gonna argue that those two songs heralded the often regrettable nature of Young's lyrics ever since; for every weird and spectral song like Without Rings or Music Arcade there are four or five that remind me not to forget love.

Memo to Neil: I am not in danger of forgetting about love. I'm happily married, and I am familiar with The Sermon on the Mount. But when I drop the needle, I want visitors from space in my Neil Young songs; I want to picture him walking down main street: not the sidewalk, but MAIN street.

But who am I kidding: I can't complain about Love to Burn or Love and Only Love, or anything else on this vital and classic record. No other 45 year old ever rocked this hard. At 45 Stephen Stills stayed fat and laid an egg. Just get this: Young permanently blew out his hearing not on tour for the record but while mixing the live album that followed. How cool is that? At 45 years old, while the rest of us were acting like grown-ups, he sat in a studio and listened to himself shredding at 11, thereby damaging his ears. When I was 45 the loudest thing I did was shout at the Dodgers. And it worked: they won the World Series.

But Neil kept up his revived crazy brilliance from this era long term. Check him out using Love and Only Love to lay siege to Farm aid with Ralph, Billy and Poncho in tow ten years later:

But at age 14 I never really understood Ragged Glory. It's not an album for teenagers. Metaphors such as, "like a little girl, who couldn't wait" only made sense when I had a daughter of my own, finally asleep at 2am on Christmas eve. It was in moments like that when I wanted to chug a cold one and high step my way around the kitchen, listening to Ragged Glory on headphones. Over and over again...

But I started unlocking the record years before, late in high school. My buddy Matt, a MIT-bound, state champion wrestler in the 150 pound class when he should have weighed an easy 180, was the only person I knew on earth who was as gnarly as Young's soloing on Truckin' Up. And Matt spoke up at lunch one day, when we were probably late for Physics, and told us the story of his 10 mile run the day before after 3 hours of push-ups and brawling on a mat.

Matt had listened to Ragged Glory on his walkman during that run and wanted to report that Forking Up was the greatest song ever written. It was even better, he claimed, that his other favorite Neil song, Homegrown.

I was really into TS Eliot and The Pixies at that point; so he sounded full of crap. But as I listened to him recite Neil's nonsensical, bone-headed lyrics my future self reached out to me and ordered that I sit up and listen; Matt had a point.

Dogs that lick And dogs that bite Hounds that howl Through the night Broken leashes Are all over the floor Keys left hanging In a swinging door.

Amen, Matt. The world is nonsensical and bone-headed. As the great Bob Pollard once warbled, sometimes you need to slay the beast and win the cup. Sometimes you need to fook things up and then scream about it.

There's a lot more to say about Ragged Glory but I'll pause here: happily, Young put out a new extended version of the record, aptly titled Smell the Horse, recently. Writing about it will make some future Sunday Shakey all over again.

[if-you-like-pina-colada-s]

YO HEY ✨AGAIN✨ BROSKI CAN U SHARE WHO UR HETALIA KINS ARE AND WHY U KIN THEM? I'LL EXPLAIN WHO MINE ARE AND WHY I KIN THEM IN RETURN

ANSKXLKSNSNC HI BESTIE!! YESS ABSOLUTELY!!!

Ok ok, I have 3 Hetalia kins, so:

First we have the one and only Mr. United States of America. Honestly the main reason I kin him, I think, is because I AM American and I swear everytime he does something so painfully American I'm like "damn, lowkey I would've done that too" (my favorite foods are hamburgers I mean cmon). Now I wouldn't say I'm as boisterous as him but I am overly friendly and I love making new friends so I am pretty extroverted! I think we'd have a lot of fun together in real life, we'd share the same level of enthusiasm about the things we like. We'd ramble on and on about things like science and movies and where the best place to get good artisan burgers is at.

Next, we have Mr. Italy (North Italy to be specific). He is very creative and artsy, and so am I!! I adored that part in season 7 where he tried to explain how to make art to England and failed miserably. That's me. He's very bubbly and happy-go-lucky just like me. I bet my ass he's the art kid who gets asked to "draw me next!" To which he just rolls his eyes in response. I also think he's incredibly unhinged and would say the most fucked up shit at random moments and then finish his sentence as if that's completely normal.

Last but not least, Mr. China!! Yall should know, I am a big sister and also the oldest grandchild in the family. So I very much feel like I share the same "eldest sibling" energy with him. He's the responsible older bro who tries to look out for his younger siblings, but isn't exactly the... best sibling all the time. Not exactly parent material, he's just quite literally older brother material. Also, even though he carries a mature, responsible manner, he's still incredibly unhinged at times. He's one of the few characters with actual braincells but he'd still be totally down to commit arson! Its also said he's a huge fan of cute stuff (such as Hello Kitty) and me too!

And of course there's the things the three of 'em have in common:

I feel like all three of them are just silly goofy guys who laugh and joke about the most fucked up shit ever. They're just ever so slightly unhinged.

I also think they're very booksmart, but can't read the room for shit like me.

They're all quite egotistical, while also extremely insecure.

Not to dump my insecurities on yall but... lowkey I suspect these guys have like, MAJOR abandonment issues. They tend to keep their friends and family in a sort of choke hold. It doesn't look like they particularly enjoy being alone or left out. And REALLY take issue with people leaving them.

Again... not to dump things on yall... but they seem a little... idk, maybe a bit adhd to me? Maybe I'm just projecting onto them since I suspect this of myself. (I'm no expert and have never been diagnosed for any sort of neurodivergency. So this is all a "hmm I wonder?" sort of a speculation).

Anyway, they're just so silly goofy.

[mariasabanahabanabana]

Weenais Raza!!! Your ("fav") depressed bitch Is back from the dead...Literally...

Okay... First of all, I know I don't owe anyone any explanations, but, the support you given my fics - content has been too much, That in my opinion you deserve an explanation of why I have disappeared as a good Latinoamérican father... (Those from Latam will understand me)...

Where to start...? Cause actually there have been several things.. in this months everything has happened to me... I moved, I found out that you don't have to eat salmon to get salmonella (Oh but what a dirty [rancid] joke), What else... I got a job with the excuse that this would give me a reason to get out of bed (spoiler alert, it and continues to work, there's times when the action becomes a livid hell, This I'll explain later), the doctora detected me thyroid... so... I cried... I really cried a lot, I started a legal process against the medical system of my small town for medical negligence....I cried again, my mom almost kicked me out, so... I had a depressive episode (self injury) after 4 "healthy" years... But despite this, there was something "good after all" because i had found and And I swear (I know it will sound stupid and maybe it is) that I didn't know that platonic - romantic - reciprocal love could be so beautifully healthy... But just as I experienced - I went through a stage that I wanted to live at least once in my life, I also learned that communication is much more important than it seems and even more so if this relationship is through to long distance, I also understood that these kinds of relationships are too complicated, It requires extreme patience, COMMUNICATION again, clear love and a maturity that probably not all of us have at the moment. Soooo, again, this relationship isn't for everyone and I include myself in it...Tbh, I don't think I would like to have to go through that again, however, I learned a lot in the Process... Process that like everything in this life naturally ended I'll not inquire further into that since I think I already said what I had to say and by that I mean "COMMUNICATION" and for respect... To surprise (lie, I was surprised) From no one I had another depressive episode (self-injury) again, so I was in and out of the hospital, Experience that causes a rupture in the psyche of your mind Well, on the one hand, you feel that you shouldn't be there, that your reasons that led to a mental decline are banal, but on the other hand, You are also aware of how fragile the human mind is and the importance of GOING (F *ING) [IF YOU CAN]) TO THE PSYCHOLOGIST AND TAKE YOUR MEDICATIONS (Honestly, don't let them, if the doctors - specialists were sent to you it was for a reason...) Look, Im not here to take a position on psychological medication, However... i regret for thinking that I could "be okay "without them...

pobre estúpida (Poor stupid)

from: my

to: my

What else....Oh yes, I moved again to return to where I was living in a beginning, I know it sounds confusing, but let's just say that I'm a city girl who has been moving between the country and the city, and for me good or bad luck, I rather city...

Now that I remember, between my "lover - break-up era" and the constant visits to "la casa de la risa" (hospital), The 💀💀💀 anniversary of a boy - friend - boyfriend was fulfilled... And... Pfft It's been a long time (since 8th grade [high school]) that I haven't felt this miserably alone... (Seriously, I don't wish it on anyone, actually, this is one of the many reasons why the WandaVision series was and will be one of my favorites, just like her character.)

Anyway... The reason why I tell you this is, Razita, is because of the issue of long distance relationships - Mental health - Latin America and the true context that is hidden by jokes made by the Latin Americans themselves..., Cause first, no matter how hard we try to help someone with their mental health, we are not responsible for it, This can vary and yes, I'm speaking to the bullying community in general, Second, no love letter or msg are gonna replace a hug or physical contact, third and last, I count the days... No... I pray and ask whoever listens to me, Any deity that exists or if it exists, that the sentence of Nicolás Maduro is at least half as terrible long as his government term was..

And well, to finish this explanation that seems more like a mediocre attempt to show pity... I moved for who the h*ll know what number of times... So now I find myself living in Cuba and fresh out, healed, sewn up and more doped than I came in...

Is there any lesson or reflection that lrs wants to leave with this? No... I would tell them to take advantage of their life every second but no, That phrase can be the same as shit that "God's timing is perfect" And no, I'm not saying this with the intention of insulting any religion or belief, but I sincerely believe that "God" has better things to do... Or That these same phrases are toxic positivity, something that at least Im fed up with...

Anyway, I'll try to be uploading content, other than songs written based on sertraline or lamotrigine...

I know I don't know you, but with all my heart thank you for continuing to interact with my account and content...I wish you the best on this roller coaster called life... And remember... Never say "co Ger" In Latin America... Or at least not in Mexico...

[dovabunny]

Part 14 - Reach

Soap smiles but all Ghost sees is his eyes. Dull, like the light has gone out in them.

He looks at Soap. Really looks.

In the light of the full moon he sees laugh lines fading, how his neutral expression of gentle playfulness was replaced with distant distrust.

He sees Soap's hand.

Carefully he reaches for Soap's hand, the man let's him. He runs this thumb over scars that were not there last time he touched this skin. That shouldn't be there.

"You really did try to kill yourself." He says it more to himself but Soap responded anyway.

"Yes. I had nothing left but regrets, hate, and pain. Would've if not for Ale and Rudy."

Ghost's breath rattled in his chest, he sees his hand trembling where cradles Johnny's.

It was a lie.

"Price said you were happy. You were just bitter and didn't want to talk to us again."

Soap laughs in disbelief. "Happy!? That's pretty fucking rich considering the only time in my entire miserable life that I was 'happy' was with the 141 - with you."

"...and now? Here, with Rudy and Ale?" He didn't know which response he feared more, which Johnny preferred.

Soap pulled his hand back and Ghost had to suppress the pained shiver that clenches around his heart.

He wanted to pull him back, to hold him, to protect him from things that already happened. And while Johnny was hurting, Ghost had been angry at him rejecting him a second time.

"I didn't know, Johnny. I swear if did..."

"How can I believe you, Si," Soap says like the words are heavy but need to be said. "Have you forgotten the 3 weeks before I was expelled? Every time you yelled, glared, cursed, or demeaned me till Price was convinced I had to go? They hurt me, but you ruined me. They were cold, but you were cruel. You say you didn't want me to leave but Si - how can I believe you?"

The moon caught the glisten of unshed tears in Johnny's beautiful eyes that should never not be as bright and beautiful as his soul is.

His mask feels suffocating, his breath is coming in too fast. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears, feels it thumping too hard and fast in his chest.

He... Was wrong. Everything he had convinced himself of, that kept him sane - that Johnny was happy elsewhere, that Johnny was holding a petty grudge to not let them contact him, that Johnny knew he didn't mean it.

He has to say something but his fucking mouth won't work. His throat closes and aches, but he can't even put them together in his head.

(That's what happens when words are beaten out of you since you could talk. You learn not to trust them.)

He fucking hates himself for it.

Johnny sighs and turns, "let's get this done so we can bring your Roach home."

"No!" Is what breaks free. "No no, Johnny-"

"I said don't call me that!"

They did not realize their voices were rising. In fact, they forgot they were anywhere except alone with the moon and the sea.

The five guards waiting at the boat didn't miss it. The next moment they were being pelted with shots and hastily ducked for cover. They returned fire till it went quiet.

Ghost goes to peek. 4 bodies? He turns in time to see the fifth man on the perch above Soap drop down.

Ghost's eye catches the deadly glint of a blade and before he can think he shoves Soap out of the way.

...

Everything is murky. He thinks he hears Soap, so he focused on opening his eyes. He wants to look at Johnny.

"GHOST! Stay with me okay? Help is coming! Just stay with me!"

Ghost wants to say of course he will. He'd never leave leave Johnny if he could. But there is something warm and heavy on his tongue and down his chin.

He sees Soap take off his los Vaqueros vest and put it over him.

He hears motorcycles.

Wait, why isn't Johnny in his vest?

"I can't let their boat reach that ship, I'm going to get your Roach back. Just please - please hold on for me, Si, please!"

Johnny is crying. No. He should never cry. He tries to reach, to talk, but his body is too heavy.

"I'm sorry Si. I'll get him back. I promise."

Ghost wants to ask why he's sorry, why he is sad.

He watches Johnny race and fly down to the boat that's pulling away from the dock.

He watches Soap shoot a hook onto the boat's railing and the rope pulls him into the water after.

They're far now. He sees a mohawk on the boat.

His eye catches a flickering red light on Johnny's vest. Odd

Then.

A deafening explosion paints the sky orange.

He looks up to see fire, smoke, and destruction where the boat was.

Where Johnny and Roach was.

The scream that rips from his lungs echoes against the cliffs.

GhostSoap AU - Replaced

Cw: angst

They'd been a (secret) thing for almost a year now. Soap was smitten, but respected Ghost's boundaries to keep it private.

But over all these months, Ghost never said he loved him too. He never makes future plans with Soap either.

He keeps turning down invites to go on leave together or meet his family,l. When they're out on missions will always elect share a room with Price over him.

Soap starts to feel like less of a secret lover and more like... Ghost's dirty little secret.

Like he's just being used.

(Read rest below)

It all blows up one night.

The gang had been at a local bar. Some flooze had apparently been making eyes at Ghost and Gaz noticed. Thinking he's being a good friend and wingman, he introduced the two.

Soap had to sit and watch Ghost talk to her at the bar for 20minutes.

Everytime she touched his arm or bought him a drink he wanted to rip her off him.

But what hurt more was that Ghost didn't immediately turn her down, instead entertaining her attention for a drink or two. He didn't tell Gaz he wasn't interested.

Soap was just a spectator.

"So? Get her number?" Gaz eagerly asked when Ghost returned.

"Nah. Not my type. Too chatty."

Gaz rolled his eyes. "Picky bitch. She was pretty. And if you're not into chatty why do you keep him around?" He playfully winked at Soap.

It was a joke. Didn't mean it didn't hurt.

Not when Ghost didn't even reply.

Soap announced he's leaving early. Ghost followed and caught up to him. The cold air did nothing to ease the burning hurt.

"You coming over to mine tonight, Johnny? I doubt they'll be back till after midnight."

Soap grit his teeth and kept walking. "Dunno. Maybe you should go ask your redhead slag."

Ghost glared, voice cold. "That's uncalled for, Johnny. She was just being friendly."

"Friendly, huh? Too bad she's chatty. Apparently that's huge turn off for you."

Ghost grabbed his arm and stopped him. His eyes and tone incredulous. "That's what this hissy fit is about? You're jealous and touchy over that comment? I thought you'd be happy I didn't take her number."

"I would've been happy if you didn't entertain her flirting at all!"

Ghost's eyes turned hard. "And what gives you the right to dictate who I talk to?"

Soap stared for a moment. It hurt. It fucking hurts but he needed to know.

"What am I to you, Simon?"

Ghost was quiet.

"A fling? A partner? A lover? A fucking sex toy? What am I to you!?"

Months of insecurities were bubbling up. The alcohol that loosened his tongue didn't help either as he yelled.

"Don't raise your voice to me, Sargent. I'm still your commanding officer." Ghost said in a tone reserved for intimidating interrogations and reckless recruits.

"...that's it? You're my CO and I'm your Sargent? That's- that's all it is for you?" Soap hated how his voice trembled.

"I didn't make any promises, Soap." (Soap. Not Johnny.) "You have no right to make demands of what I may and may not do, and I won't be chained down!"

"I don't want to chain you down! I just wa-"

"Sounds like you do. Bloody hell, if you didn't want to fuck anymore - fine. There's no need for the tears and the drama, Sargent."

It was only then that Soap realized he was crying.

Ghost cursed and kept walking without him.

Soap feels like he's been punched in the chest, a gaping void left where his heart and lungs should be.

Apparently all the secret kisses Ghost stole, how he held his hand when no one was looking, the way he held him when they were alone were all just what? Drama? In his head?

Soap spends the night sobbing his heart out off base in an empty parking lot with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

By morning he told himself there's no use crying over spilled milk.

But it wasn't that simple. For either of them. It was the start of the end.

[michelleleewise]

Forget Me Not

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: mentions of injury, sadness, depression, all the angst, very minor death ideation, mentions of memory loss, anger, minor accusations of cheating, mild swearing

Summary: After you left you try your to accept your Loki is gone, you just hope he's happy.

*the response to this was amazing!! It means so much to me that you guys read and share my work, and I'm so glad you like it. So, because I love you all (and with an insurmountable amount of peer pressure lol) I give you........part 2💚💚

Part one Part two-

====================================

It had been three months since you left the tower, since you left your life behind and the pain hadn't lessened. The man you love haunted your mind. Some nights you would dream of you and Loki, cuddled on the couch and you would wake crying, others you would see him and Mellissa from that night in the kitchen, and you wanted to scream, hit something, burn everything. You had everything you ever wanted and it was snatched from you in the blink of an eye.

Last night, it was the latter. You woke up screaming as your sobs racked your body. Could you die from a broken heart? If so you yearned for it, if nothing else so the dreams would finally cease. You climbed out of bed, making your way to the tiny kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee before going out onto the porch. You sat watching the ocean, trying to clear your mind. You had settled on a small island in the middle of nowhere, only you and one small village on the other side. Secluded, peaceful, lonely.

Deep down you hoped Loki was happy, you had no way of knowing, deciding to go off the grid you had no way to contact anyone, it was better that way. You would never be able to love anyone the way you loved Loki, your heart died the day he didn't know who you were, you had become a shell of who you once were. You knew you were alone, and you always would be.

"Loki! Loki wake up!" Melissa half yelled shaking Loki awake "w...what is it love?" He asks rubbing his eyes. "You were saying her name again." She said glaring at him. "Whose name? What are you talking about?" He asked sitting up. "Y/n! You've been saying her name in your sleep for months, what is the deal?" She asked crossing her arms. "Darling, honestly I have no idea, I don't..." he said looking around. "Do you love her?" She asked "i....I don't know. I don't remember her before my accident, just that she took care of me after, and was kind to me." He said sitting against the headboard.

"I can't do this Loki, I can't be with you when your thinking about her." She said getting up. "Darling, please. She's gone now anyway, and Thor said she most likely won't return." He said getting up following her. He grabbed her waist turning her around "I adore you darling, you know that." He said hugging her, she sighed hugging him back. "I'm going to go get coffee." She said, pulling away getting dressed. "I'll be right there love." He called out as she left.

He sat on the bed, his head in his hands. "Why can't I remember you y/n." He sighed sitting up. His dreams had become flashes of you and him, cuddling on the couch, watching TV, making love to you, if they were dreams or memories He wasn't sure. Thor had told him before you left how much you loved eachother, but his mind was blank, nothing of you was there before the accident and now, you were gone and he couldn't even talk to you about it. He ran a hand through his hair, heading towards the kitchen.

The sounds of Melissa laughing drew his attention as he slowly crept to the doorway, seeing her and the soldier, standing very close, smiling at eachother. He was about to walk out when something down the hall caught his attention. "Thor, what are you doing?" He asked walking towards him. "I'm packing up y/n's things. Its been months, I don't believe she is returning." He sighed setting some boxes down. "Do you need help?" He asked "if your up to it, I would appreciate the help, stark wants all of this in storage." Thor said unlocking the door.

He walked in, setting a couple of boxes on the bed looking around. It felt familiar, comfortable. "Ok, I'll start in the closet, you start with the nightstands." Thor said grabbing some clothes packing them. Loki walked to the nightstand on the right, picking up a book of Shakespeare's sonnets, opening the drawer seeing a small dagger, a green blindfold and a picture of the two of you, the ocean behind you both, his arms wrapped around you as you both smiled at the camera. He packed the other things away, still holding the picture. "Thor.." he called out "what is it brother?" He asked coming up next to him.

"Maybe someday we can come here on our honeymoon." He said holding you tighter "we could stay in a cardboard box, as long as I'm with you Loki." You said smiling at him.

The memory flashed to the front of his mind "Thor, was i......" he started as Thor sighed "Yes, that was the trip you told me you were going to propose, you said she was the one." He said pointing at the picture "But it matters not, she is gone." He said going back to the closet. He slipped the picture in his pocket while Thor wasn't watching and continued packing.

He made his way to the desk, emptying the drawers into a box as he started clearing off the top, seeing an envelope with his name on it. He looked up seeing Thor packing the dresser before folding it and putting it in his pocket, he needed answers and you may have left them for him. They finished packing everything, stacking the boxes by the door "let's go have lunch before we move everything to storage yes?" Thor asked patting his shoulder.

They made their way to the kitchen, seeing Melissa was gone he remembered what he saw this morning "I'll be right back brother." He said heading to his room. Not seeing Melissa there either, he headed for the training room, peeking in he saw her and the soldier, sitting on a bench with her legs draped over his lap, her fingers combing through his hair. Loki slowly back out, leaning against the wall sighing before heading back to the kitchen. "What is wrong brother?" Thor asked handing him a sandwich. "I believe my beloved is going behind my back." He sighed sitting down.

"How do you know?" He asked sitting across from him. "I just saw her and the soldier in the training room." He said looking up as Thor nodded "I am sorry Loki, she was never deserving of you If im being honest." Thor said taking a bite as Loki nodded. He went back to his room that night after helping Thor, seeing Melissa packing her things. "What are you doing?" He asked closing the door. "I can't deal with this Loki, I need someone who loves me, not someone else." She said continuing her packing "like the soldier hmm?" He asked sitting in the chair as Melissa stiffened.

"Did you fuck him?" Loki asked glaring at her "you don't have to be so crude." She said crossing her arms. "Well?" He growled "No, I haven't. But he cares about me." She said "gives you attention more likely." He said rolling his eyes. "I'm over this Loki, enjoy being alone." She huffed, grabbing her box "I'll have the rest of your things packed and outside my room, I don't want you back in here." He growled as she got to the door "Oh don't worry, I won't be." She said slamming the door. He got up locking it before settling on the bed, pulling the picture and letter from his pocket, setting them on the nightstand.

He leaned his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands "Dammit! Why can't I remember!" He yelled as he felt his seidr pulse through him. He leaned against the headboard picking up the letter, turning it in his hands, hoping you had the answers he seeked.....

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Im not sure of eveyone who wanted tagged.....sorry!!! Of you want tagged in part 3 let me know!!!

@vbecker10 @lokisprettygirl22 @lokisninerealms @lokiprompts @lulubelle814 @immersed-in-mischief @daggers-and-mischief @geekwritersworld @freshprincessofpain @buttercupbestie

[rosysugarr]

married people stuff

So. This is the fic that caused me to no longer be able to use twitter! I've been really scared of reposting it as such, but... hopefully, tumblr will be kinder to me than twitter was, since yall seem to have such a much more clear understanding of. Life in general, honestly.

Basically, the backstory is this: I wrote this in around April of last year, and posted it to ao3. It got a lot of really positive feedback, and I even talked about it and shared it on twitter itself, and likewise got positive feedback. So, happy with that outcome, I moved on, and eventually forgot I'd even written it.

Aaand then six months later, someone found it, saw my age on my profile, and made a callout post with several screenshots insisting I was being creepy and breaking the ccs' boundaries. That tweet got over 500 retweets before I was forced to deactivate my account due to the harassment I was receiving... plus, I was rapidly losing followers.

This was... a massive blow to me, because I'm an aspiring streamer, and I'd finally begun slowly but regularly gaining new followers and was a hair away from being able to become an affiliate when this happened. In one fell swoop, that callout tweet, and the reaction to it, caused me to lose followers both on twitter and twitch, to lose friends, and to feel like I'd lost my chance at being even a small streamer. All of my audience had been gained from twitter, a platform which I can no longer use due to a large part of the mcyt fanbase there now believing me to be some kind of creep. I was even accused of being an irl shipper over this fic, which... is silly, given the original description on ao3 literally stated that this was about the characters, and that I do not ship ccs or condone doing so.

Anyway. All that to say, posting this is the scariest fucking thing I've done in a long time, but... I think, maybe, I'll be okay sharing it here. Maybe it'll help me feel a little less shit about the whole ordeal.

(And, by the way, if you'd like to help me start rebuilding my attempt at a streaming career, my channel can be found here; I'll be streaming from a brand new lore-based SMP in the near future, and stream other games as well. I'd appreciate it if you gave it a look!)

So, without any further ado... here is the fic, and I hope you enjoy it.

married people stuff Rating: G (there's not even any swearing, this thing is clean as a whistle.) Summary: c!Tubbo and c!Ranboo share a moment, and some shiny new feelings, while building the Bee 'n' Boo hotel.

"I think we should do more married people stuff."

That was absolutely the furthest thing from... well, anything that Ranboo was expecting to hear Tubbo say, and it made him pause, the heavy block of glossy yellow terracotta in his hands slipping just a bit as he turned to look down at him. The other boy's expression was almost comically thoughtful, dark hair in his eyes and his lips pursed as he considered... something. It was an expression that Ranboo knew all-too well, and generally couldn't help but feel a mixed surge of anxiety and amusement at the sight of-- it generally lead to either a bizarre declaration not unlike the one he just heard, or some exciting new idea.

"... what do you... mean?" Ranboo's voice was cautious, his words carefully-chosen, as he returned to his previous task of carefully fitting the block into the intricate pattern on the floor of their new hotel, shifting it to ensure the lines flowed together as intended.

"Well, y'know," began Tubbo's response, and Ranboo braced himself for whatever would come next almost instinctively. "Like, married people... there are things that married people do, right, that is like... expected of them, you know?"

"... uh-huh." Well, if he hadn't been worried about where Tubbo was going with this before, he certainly was after that remark. "Tubbo, I don't know... what you're--"

"No no no, like... erm, nice things, I think! You know? Like when they give each other flowers and stuff." Tubbo shrugged his shoulders as he went to one of the storage chests in the center of the growing hotel, and Ranboo couldn't help but chuckle as he dug into the dirt foundation, clearing space to put down another block of terracotta.

"So, you want me to give you things. Tubbo, we already do that."

"Well! No, come on--" Tubbo had to raise his voice to be heard over his husband's rasping bursts of laughter, his face flushing at being called out so bluntly. When the taller boy turned to glance at him, it only made him laugh that much harder, the sight of Tubbo's face lit up pink in offense, his round face pulled into a sharp frown and bottom lip stuck out. "Aw, come on, Big Man!"

"It's fine, Tubbo, it's fine!" Ranboo tried his best to recover his composure, though laughter still bubbled just beneath his words. He peeked into his inventory for something, quietly looking over the contents; after a moment, he pulled out a single, freshly-cut pink tulip, and he offered it to Tubbo, a smirk tugging at his odd face. "Here. Is this what you wanted?"

"... well, it's not all romantic now!" The smaller boy continued to pout, even as he reached out to accept the flower, holding it carefully in his dirty hands. Ranboo couldn't resist the urge to lean down, to slip his fingers into Tubbo's hair, petting him affecionately, and he tilted his head up to peer at Ranboo's face from beneath his bangs, dark eyes round as he considered him.

"Awww..." Ranboo did not sound sincere, not in the slightest, and it only drew a darker flush from his husband, who... despite his best attempts, couldn't resist smiling at just how silly the whole conversation was.

"I really mean it, though. We should do something romantic together."

... wait. Was... he being serious? Ranboo paused, blinking down at him in growing surprise, his own mismatched skin starting to warm up at the implications behind the words.

"Are you... I mean. Do you... want to do something... romantic, Tubbo?"

"Yeah! I mean, I did marry you!" As if it should be obvious.

Oh. Oh.

Well. The beginnings of a flush that had been mere pinpricks at Ranboo's face before bloomed into something much more obvious at that, and for a moment, Ranboo found himself unable to string words together to respond. Tubbo, his best friend... wanted to actually get romantic with things? Sure, they were married, but it had been for tax reasons, right? He hadn't actually planned on things being like that... right?

Or... had he just been oblivious the whole time?

"Oh."

The way Tubbo's face scrunched displayed very clearly that "oh" was not the response he'd been hoping for.

"What? Did you not know that marriage is somethin' people do for romance, Ranboo?"

"I-- no, I know that, I just--!" Oh, god. He straightened, hiding his face in his mismatched hands, suddenly at a loss of what to do or say. "I just didn't-- I-I thought..."

"... I mean, yeah, like... yanno, taxes and all that, but like... you've seen the movies, right, Big Man? Things happen sometimes!"

At this point, Ranboo could no longer tell if Tubbo was making his request out of genuine interest, or out of some kind of idea of "this is how things go, this is how it goes in the movies." He sighed, running his hands down his face.

"... Tubbo." His voice was lower, just a little bit more firm. "Are you asking about romance because you saw this happen in a movie once, or because you just... want... to be romantic... with me?"

"Ermm... both of them, I imagine," was the reply, marked with an innocence that sat squarely at odds with anything Ranboo knew about the former president, and he couldn't help but smile. How very Tubbo.

"... so, you do... want things to be... romantic, with us?"

Tubbo was quiet for a beat longer that time, letting the words hang in the air, his gaze drifting back down to the flower still clutched in his hands.

"... yeah, I think so!" And then his gaze was, again, lifted back to meet Ranboo's, and there was a bright grin on his face, and Ranboo could feel his face heating up all the way to the edge of his crown.

"... ah." The Enderman was quiet for a long moment, his hands nervously lacing together in front of his chest. "... so..."

"Aw, come on, what are you bein' all awkward for? We're already married!" Ah, Tubbo was clearly aware that things had turned back in his favor, the sight of his tall husband visibly flustered emboldening and endlessly amusing to him. He grinned, rocking up onto his tiptoes to be closer to his eyeline-- not that it made much difference, all told.

"I know, but..." Ah. Oh no, what should he do now? He'd never really... been very good at romance. He'd never really had much of a chance at it before. And now, here he was, with a husband standing before him, expecting to be wooed, he supposed, and how on earth do you even do that?

"Come down here!" Suddenly, Tubbo was reaching out, grabbing a handful of Ranboo's tie, and the taller boy was shocked, unable to do anything to resist being pulled down to his husband's eye level. Tubbo simply grinned at him, seemingly proud of himself.

"See? That's not so hard, now, is it?"

Ranboo couldn't help the laugh that broke loose from his tightened throat.

"-- is this what married people do, Tubbo?"

"Well, it's not my fault you're all the way up there. I had to get you down here somehow."

"You did. Well, here I am."

"Yep!"

And then, without giving him a moment to respond, to process what was happening, Tubbo leaned in... and pressed his lips against the other's. It wasn't a good kiss, or an experienced one, or even really all that romantic... but it was indeed a kiss, and, for a second, it was enough to make Ranboo's entire mind freeze over and stop, his breath hanging in his chest.

And then it was over, and Tubbo just smiled sweetly at him, and Ranboo was certain that he had never turned that particular shade in front of anyone before.

He cleared his throat.

"... oh!"

"S'that all you've got to say, big guy?" Tubbo didn't seem hurt, although something questioning hung just beneath his smile-- was that alright? Should he have done it? Did he mess something up?

"... Tubbo..."

Ranboo sighed; he leaned down more properly, reached in with his hands to cup his husband's face, and this time, he kissed him first. And it was better. A little bit, anyway. He'd only seen them do this in movies, but... he had some idea of what to do, at least.

When he pulled away, Tubbo's eyes were closed; he hummed in his throat, and then he opened them, gazing up at Ranboo with a grin. One of his hands lifted from holding the flower to lay over one of Ranboo's own.

"You hopeless romantic, you."

As if he had any room to speak.

[miyacreampie]

Lenny sensei's night class has begun!~♡

“Senpai~♡”

synopsis 💭;; Tanaka gets jealous bc some bitch talking to his man.

note 🖋️;; IT TOOK A WHOLE FUCKIN WEEK TO WRITE THIS. WHY DOES WORK ALWAYS PREVENT ME FROM DOING THE THINGS I LIKE? WHAT THE ACTUAL FU- by the way, ‘Isayama Misaki’ is based off of some asswipe I used to know- also, I ran out of ideas at the end, so it kinda cuts of lf at the good part. I apologize to the anon that requested this.

Requested by anon ♡

Male pronouns used

Tanaka wasn't a jealous man. Or at least he'd like to think so.

(Y/n) was pretty popular around campus, so it wasn't a surprise to see a few fangirls here or there. It kinda reminded him of Oikawa—except (Y/n) didn't exactly pay his fangirls any attention. (And he didn't have an ass as flat as printer paper.) But did that stop them from trying to get into his pants? No.

In all honesty, Ryu felt lucky that he had someone like (Y/n) as a boyfriend, although he didn't like the fangirls—who paid him no mind whenever they were together. It annoyed him that they kept surrounding (Y/n) who clearly wanted nothing to do with them, begging him for dates, one night stands, anything.

To say that Tanaka was mildly uncomfortable was an understatement.

🌇🌇

Today was a bit different. Instead of a crowd of women rushing towards (Y/n), it was just one—; Misaki Isayama. The woman (almost) every guy considered perfect. This was...manageable, but what did she want? Well—at least it was only one girl. He had only woken up a little over an hour ago, and wasn't exactly ready for his simps just yet.

“(L/n)-chan, can you help me study for the science exam that's coming up?”

“Just because you're my upperclassman, doesn't mean you can call me that.” (Y/n) said quietly, rubbing his eyes, then yawning. “I'm on my way to the lecture hall though, so maybe after that? I should be fully awake by then..”

Misaki smiled and nodded her head. “It's a date!”

“No. No it's not.”

🏙️🏙️

Tanaka let (Y/n) lean on him during the lecture. That turned into one sided cuddling from the sleepy man. Ryu thought it was cute how (Y/n) always clung to him when he was sleepy. He was a little sad when (Y/n) fully awoke, and let him go, but it was for the best.

“Oh, Ryu-san. I'm tutoring the rumored ‘perfect woman’, and it's gonna be awkward with just the two of us, so can y—”

“You headin to the library? I was on my way there anyway. I'll join ya.”

The (h/c) haired man nodded, and they both walked all the way to the other side of the schoolyard to the library building. Tanaka even held (Y/n)'s hand to flex on the girls they passed by. Some of the girls were noticeably annoyed or a little angry, which pleased him.

When they finally arrived, Misaki was standing by the door. Upon seeing Ryu, she scowled. But it was only for a second.

“Ah, (L/n)-kun..who's this?”

(Y/n) smiled, oblivious to Misaki and Tanaka glaring at each other. Needless to say, the intense atmosphere went right over his head. “This is my boyfriend..Tanaka. He'll be joining us if that's okay.”

“‘Perfect woman’ my ass..the only ‘perfect woman’ I know is Kiyoko-san.” Tanaka mumbled under his breath. (Y/n) may not have known, but Misaki and Tanaka were always competitive with each other. Other times he wouldn't have cared, but now that (Y/n) is what he's fighting for, he wasn't gonna back down.

“Oh, it's fine.” Misaki said through gritted teeth.

🏙️🏙️

Isayama and Tanaka were left sitting at a table alone, while (Y/n) searched for the science books. They sat in complete silence, but it was almost as if you could hear their thoughts—mentally arguing with one another.

(Y/n) returned with three books, seating himself between Isayama and Ryu. “Okay! Let's get started!”

***

As (Y/n) went on explaining the laws of physics (because Tetsurou used to tutor him), Misaki and Tanaka continued their epic staring battle. The battle ended once they noticed that (Y/n) had stopped talking. He was chewing his tongue in thought, trying to figure out how to pronounce a word.

Misaki didn't notice, but (Y/n) had gone from physics, to microbiology. In less than five minutes.

“Something wrong?”

“How do you say this word again..?” The (e/c) eyed man pointed to a bolded word in the textbook, leaning back a bit so the other two could see.

A suffocating silence reigned over the three of them, but only for about three seconds.

Isayama squinted a bit before she spoke. “Endothelial?”

“Oh yeah. Thanks, senpai.”

Isayama smiled smugly at Ryuunosuke. The said man had a visible tick mark (💢) on the side of his head, symbolizing his annoyance. Tanaka only wanted (Y/n) to call him ‘senpai’—even if they were the same age (if not, then (Y/n) might be older). It made him feel like he was a dependable upperclassman, maybe even a bit turned on in certain situations. But hearing (Y/n) call someone else senpai..made him a little sad.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating. As Tanaka reached into his pocket to get his phone, he caught (Y/n) putting his own phone in his jacket pocket. Tanaka turned on his phone to see a message from (Y/n) in his recent notifications.

Pretty boy💖: Go to the bathroom. I'll join you later.

Although he was a bit confused, he got up from his chair. “‘M gonna go take a leak.” Ryu said as he started to make his way towards the men's restroom.

Almost five minutes pass before (Y/n) goes into the bathroom after Tanaka, telling Misaki that he was checking on him. As soon as (Y/n) had passed the first bathroom stall, he was yanked into the second one, the door locking almost immediately after it shut behind him. He wasn't given any time to react before he felt a familiar pair of soft lips violently smash against his own. (Not violent enough to make his mouth bleed or anything. Chill.)

A heated battle for dominance arose between the two, (Y/n) quickly taking the lead as he gently bit Ryu's lip.

They didn't want this to end, but eventually Tanaka had to break the kiss because he couldn't breathe. He stood there, breathless in his boyfriend's arms, not wanting (Y/n) to let go.

“Ryuunosuke..” Tanaka flinched upon his first name being said—even though (Y/n) said it many times before. His reaction brought a smile to (Y/n)'s face. “I love you~..” He said, drawing out the three words in a sing-song voice.

Ryu felt his legs getting weak, and held onto (Y/n) for dear life. (Somewhat out of fear that he might fall.) He wasn't actually feeling like this because of three words...right? “Babe..am I supposed to be kinda horny right now?” It was a bit of a strange question, but hey, it never hurts to ask.

(Y/n) chuckled. “Well, yeah. I might have to carry you out of here once we're done.” His warm smile from earlier didn't falter as he spoke.

‘How can he say something like that so casually? If I say something like that, I'd get d–’ Ryu's thoughts were snapped away when he felt his chest touch the stall divider and his pants being pulled down. He let out a soft moan as (Y/n) stroked him through his boxers.

🏙️

‘What the hell is taking them so long?!’ Isayama got up from where she sat, and went to the men's bathroom. There wasn't anyone around, so no one would see her going in. She opened the first stall's door. ‘If they ditched me, I swear to go–’

“W-Wait, (Y/n)!~ Haa!~♡”

“Geez senpai, you're so wet inside~..♡”

Misaki froze. She couldn't be sure that it was (Y/n) and Tanaka in there—but those were definitely Tanaka's pants hanging over the second stall's door. Now she felt more..curious than angry. Isayama slipped into the first stall, carefully and quietly closing the door behind her, and slowly locking it so it didn't make noise.

Ryu tried to keep his breathing steady as (Y/n) fucked him with his fingers—even though that did absolutely nothing to help his current situation. Hell, he couldn't even process words anymore. The only actual word he could say was his boyfriend's name. He eventually remembered how to speak after about two minutes of being finger-fucked.

He wanted to sound more demanding, but his voice came out more whiny than what he'd have liked it to. “Fuck me already..ya fuckin– Hng!~” It may have been that he couldn't process it, or that (Y/n) had moved at the speed of sound, but Tanaka wasn't able to register how fast (Y/n) pulled his fingers out, and shoved his cock into his still tight hole. He wanted to say something, but all that came out was a choked whine.

“You were saying?~♡” (Y/n) asked, though it sounded more like a demand than a question.

Tanaka wasn't given a chance to answer due to (Y/n) ruthlessly fucking the poor man senseless. His loud whines and moans echoed throughout the bathroom, much to (Y/n)'s pleasure. He wanted everyone to know that he was a taken man. He wanted everyone on campus to hear Ryuunosuke's pleasurable cries.

Hearing the two men fucking in the next stall turned Isayama on to no end. (Even though it was more of (Y/n)'s voice that made her wet.) But she resisted touching herself because she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she masturbated to her rival getting fucked. (A kinda stupid reason, but okay.)

“Fu–fuck, (Y/n)!~ So good..it feels so good!~” Ryu babbled, the words almost incoherent as he attempted to push back against his boyfriend's cock. “More!~ Give me more!~♡” He begged, voice broken and choking on his own breath.

The (e/c) eyed man didn't say a word. As his senpai had politely asked of him, (Y/n) drove his cock so deep into Tanaka that the said man let out the loudest drawn out moan (Y/n) had ever heard from him. If it weren't for the cum spewing from the teary eyed man, (Y/n) would've thought he had hurt his lover. He wasn't entirely sure until he felt Ryu continue to push back against him, desperate for more friction.

“Aww..you're so cute when you act like a bitch in heat, senpai~..♡”

He only got a choked whine in response.

“I'm pretty close anyway..do you want it inside?~♡” (Y/n) asked, pulling the shaky man up to his chest. Again, only a whine. (Y/n) parted Ryu's lips with his fingers, those fingers soon being coated in saliva. “Use your words~..”

Finally, Tanaka spoke, despite his unintentional dry heaving. “Fuck me- please~..”

“As you wish~♡” (Y/n) almost whispered, gripping Tanaka's cock firmly, earning another broken moan from the said man. “You're the only person I'd fuck like this, you know that, right?” He said, as he rubbed the shorter man's stomach.

“Y-Yeah..that makes me happy~..”

Lmao this was like- 80% highschool drama (in a college setting), and the remaining 20% being me getting horny for no reason. Also, I'm aware this made no sense. None of the stuff I write makes sense. :)

The class session is now over!~♡