#he's not even wearing his arm bands in this pic this picture gets worse and worse and worse HE'S NAKEDDDD

[hyuckiefluff]

Hey so I hv request! Really love the way you write♡ ok so mark is on adrenaline high frm the concert and is really touch starved and really just wants to fuck his gf! Established realtionship y/n and Mark, feel free to add your magic, thank you!!!

a/n: thank u for the nice words and for sending in this req!! this is exactly what i needed to get back into the mood cuz i’ve (once again) been neglecting my writing lol but anyway when i read this the first thing i thought of was quiet down hence the pic :)

ps: requests are still open btw (still got a lot of them to go through but feel free to send in more) i usually do them in order of which one inspires me the most so even if you send rn i might get to it first!

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k

content warnings: semi-public sex, unprotected sex, slight choking, brief mention of blood, mark is sex starved so he goes a bit crazy, ass groping, handjob (m. receiving), cum eating yeah ik ik i keep writing this but i can’t stop sawry, big c0ck mark!! barely any prep or aftercare (they don’t have time!!!) basically just a messy & needy quickie backstage.

masterlist

Mark was losing his mind. 

Why?

All because you placed him on a week-long sex ban in an attempt to prepare him for the upcoming tour. He knew you were just trying to help him adjust to being away from you, but it felt like torture.

Everything was fine at first, or at least Mark was doing a great job pretending. But as the first week neared its end, his resolve started to crumble. Today, in particular, he was extremely horny for no reason.

...Well, he actually did have a reason and it was the picture you sent him this morning, wearing the new underwear he had gifted you  'They fit perfectly, Markie ;)'.

And as if that wasn’t enough, you showed up to his show wearing his favorite skirt—the very one you knew he always fucked you in. He wasn't sure if he was just thinking with his dick, but it felt like you were trying to push him to his limit.

Either way, it was definitely working, because when you leaned in for a kiss, he caught a glimpse of your underwear in the mirror's reflection and and he had to fight against every part of himself to not moan right then.

To make matters worse, you were still wearing the black lace panties he had gifted you.

By the time he stepped on stage, he was already painfully hard. What kind of pervert gets turned on in front of an audience just because his girlfriend accidentally flashed him? Well, apparently, Mark Lee did.

But he didn't care about looking like a desperate, sex-starved fool. 

So as soon as the VCR started playing and they had to change outfits, he made a beeline for you backstage. Ignoring the protests of staff and confused band members telling him he only had 10 minutes to get ready he grabbed your arm and pulled you through the crowd.

“That’s more than enough time,” he muttered under his breath. Despite your persistent attempts to ask where he was taking you, Mark didn’t stop until you were hidden away in a dark, secluded corner behind the stage.

"Mark, what's going on? Are you okay?" You inspected him with concern in your eyes, checking for any injuries.

"Ah...fuck... I have a really big problem," he groaned.

"What's wrong?" But you quickly understood the issue when he pulled up his shirt, revealing the growing bulge in his pants.

You tried not to laugh, but the way he looked like a child in need of help was too endearing. "Aw, did I do this to you?"

"It's not funny," he protested, suddenly invading your personal space. "I need you to fix it." His forehead pressed against yours, his hands roaming over your sides and gripping your hips to press you firmly against his body, your lower abdomen coming in contact with his hard on.

"Of course, baby" you replied, ready to kneel down, but he stopped you by grabbing your arm. You looked at him confused, and the stage lights cast an angle that highlighted his pleading eyes. They were glossy with desire.

"I need to be inside you," he murmured, his voice strained and raspy.

The idea of having backstage sex at his concert with just about seven minutes left before he had to return to the stage felt crazy. But there was something about it that turned you on beyond explanation.

So, you cupped his face and kissed him hard enough that your teeth clashed with his lips, but not even the slight taste of blood stopped you from devouring each other’s mouth. Mark quickly matched your intensity, his tongue wasting no time exploring every corner of your mouth. Every time he nibbled on your lips, it elicited little gasps from you. His hands moved from your hips to your ass, pressing you firmly against his bulge, a clear reminder that he was about to explode down there.

You started to undo his pants, the friction of his erection against the fabric made him suck in air through his teeth. He broke away from your lips, allowing you to pull down his pants. His boxers were already stained with pre-cum, and when you lowered them, his dick looked at you flushed and angry. You bit your lip, his size always made you clench your thighs in anticipation.

Before you could even touch him, he turned you around and that’s when you realized you were pressed against one of the glass boxes from their performance.

"Mark..." you moaned his name when you felt the tip of his dick at your entrance. There was no time for much preparation so when he slowly pushed his hips forward, a string of curses left his lips at the tightness.

"Fuuuck..." he groaned when your walls clenched around him relentlessly. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you leaned against the box for support

“God, you feel so good” His hands gripped your hips, and you felt his lips kissing your shoulder before he whispered that he was going to start moving. You nodded weakly.

His pace started out slow, but there was an undeniable urgency in each motion. His hand moved from your hips to your neck, gripping you softly and pulling you closer with every deep thrust. His lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, and with every kiss and nibble, you couldn't help but clench around him, making his hand close tighter against your throat. This pattern continued for a while, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Please..." you whimpered, and he grunted softly against your neck.

"What do you need, baby?" he asked.

"More, please, I need more," you moaned, feeling his grin against your neck.

He wasted no time. His thrusts quickened, and you couldn't help but release soft gasps and moans with each movement. You leaned forward against the box, your breath fogging up the glass, feeling it tremble beneath you as he continued fucking into you harder. Mark was losing himself, or perhaps he already had; he was rutting against you as if he was an animal in heat.

"M-mark... I'm close," you mewled, not sure if he even heard you amidst the loud cheers.

"Mhm, me too," he moaned, his voice strained. 

It only took a few more thrusts and you were spent, moaning and mumbling incoherently as he helped you ride your orgasm.

 "Fuck, it's gonna be messy if I cum inside you," he realized, slowing his movements.

He was right… he wasn't wearing a condom so as soon as he pulled out, it would definitely drip down your legs. And there wasn’t anything nearby to clean you up with.

"Pull out," you said, and you could see his confusion from the corner of your eye. Nonetheless, he did as told. His hand was already on his dick, ready to take care of himself, but when you knelt down, it was as if his body glitched momentarily.

Your hands replaced his, applying just the right amount of pressure in your strokes to evoke that familiar sensation building in his gut. You looked at him through your eyelashes, your makeup slightly smudged from tears and sweat. The sight was incredibly hot, and just when he was about to cum, you opened your mouth, catching all of his release. Some of it trickled down your throat. The whole scene, along with the sounds you made while swallowing, had Mark almost in tears from the sheer intensity of the moment.

After swallowing every drop, you stood up, adjusting your panties and casually licking a remnant from the corner of your lips, all while maintaining eye contact with Mark. He watched you in stunned silence, still catching his breath. You chuckled when he remained frozen for a good 10 seconds, pulling him close gently and zipping up his pants. In that moment, you heard his voice.

“Please come on tour with me,” he begged, his eyes wide with hope. You just smiled and kissed him.

“Where’s Mark?! You guys are up in 2 minutes!” The staff's frantic shouts pulled you both back to reality. You exchanged a glance and burst into giggles like a pair of teenagers.

i think i might be shadowbanned guys so interact with this post if u enjoyed it pls <3

[tenshindon]

i’m crying over several things about the og pic but these two shotgunned me in the chest

[joshslater]

Grindr Gold

This is a rewrite of Rozza’s rewrite of Tinder Gold. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

“Fuck, why don’t you guys respond!”, Tom moaned as he fell back into his bed. Another guy had just gone and ghosted him, the sixth one this week. Tom was pissed and confused as to why he was failing with so many guys. It was true that he didn’t have the looks. Average height, average hair, average face. A face dotted with acne, on top of his unremarkable body, pudgy from years of studying. He was smart, provably so, but also funny and kind. He hoped that would shine through in his bio. Tom went back to his phone and looked over it, and his pics. Maybe there was something he could tweak to make him more attractive. Or it could be a waste of time. All the guys wanted was cheap sex with the man of their dreams, and that was it.

Tom was about to let go of the phone when he saw a new banner at the bottom of the screen, advertising Grindr Gold. “Stop looking for the perfect match - become one!” It totally looked like a scam to Tom, but he had been so unlucky recently that he would consider anything. He tapped the banner, bringing up the purchase screen. It wasn’t very clear to him exactly what they provided for the hefty $250 a month. “Personalized profile to maximize your chance to strike gold.” Whatever. The first month was $10, and he could cancel at any point, according to the page. He could buy it, maybe get a few dates, and then keep the profile as is after cancelling.

He tapped his screen again to pay, ignored a mile of terms and conditions, and finalized his payment. He looked impatiently at the screen as nothing happened. Everything was the same. A scam after all. A few seconds later there was a knock on the door, giving Tom a jump scare. He got up to go and see who it was, still pissed about his lost $10. He opened the door and almost dropped his jaw on the floor. Outside the door was the most handsome twink he had ever seen, online as well as in the flesh. A shorter, younger boy with bronzed skin, blond hair in a quiff, sparkling green eyes, and just as sparkling, white smile. He was wearing gold shorts, trendy shoes, and nothing else, showing off the rest of his body. It was fit, without being muscular or overly cut, showing hints of definition and abs. His skin was beautifully, evenly tanned and smooth, and like the rest of him looked perfected with many products. His face had been cleansed of any impurities and facial hair, while his golden gelled up quiff was flanked by freshly buzzed sides. Tom’s brained blanked, partly because of the unexpected surprise visitor, partly because of this visitor in particular, and partly because the blood rushed into his quickly stiffening dick.

“Tom, I assume?” the twink queried.

Tom was speechless, struggling with where to look. When he looked at the face his eyes were drawn into the green eyes, and it felt rude and awkward to gaze into an unknown mans eyes like that. Anywhere else on the body was worse. Look at the nipples? The golden bulge?

“I am Grindr Gold, professional dater and dating expert, and I am here to assist you. May I come in?” Tom was struggling to comprehend that Grindr Gold wasn’t a software update, or a service feature, or even a scam, but a real, life something seemingly teleported to outside his door.

“Yeah... Yes! Yes, of course. Step right in.” Tom moved out of the way and waved towards the interior of the messy apartment. “Are you some kind of dating coach? Will you get me laid?”

“Of course! I am Grindr Gold, and I never disappoint.” Gold was slowly turning, taking in the sight of Tom’s small student apartment.

“Wait, your name is Grindr? No, nevermind. What’s first?”

“Take off your shirt and have a seat”, he motioned towards Tom’s study armchair. “We know exactly what everyone is looking for, what types get hookups, what the supply and demand is. I’m here to improve supply where it is needed the most. Firstly, no one wants another post-college graduate. There are plenty of them around. They want a freshly minted fuckboi."

What did he just say now? Did he just say fuckboi? No way Tom was going to be like one of those dumbasses, who just existed to get laid. But before he could object, Gold began waving his hands. Tom became dizzy and distorted as energy waves from Gold’s hands flew into him. His skin vibrated, turning back years. His fat mostly melted away, leaving a little around his stomach. The hair on his chest receded back into his skin, softening out his pecs. The hair on his legs thinned out as well, but remained spread out for his age. The lines and bags on his face, caused by all the stress of college, faded. His looks had gone from mid-twenties PhD student to a youthful 18 year old.  

"What the fuck! This isn’t what I wanted! I look like a dumb teenager!”, Tom shouted in a decidedly younger voice, as he saw his reflection on his phone screen.

“Relax, this is just the first step to getting you laid. Your profile said you are just looking for a hookup, right?”

“Yeah, but not like...”

“I’m gonna do the best I can, making you the most sought after fuck for miles. Let me change your mind on this. If things don’t work out, we can always go for a different look. Now we gonna get you yeeted up…”

Without waiting for a response Gold started massaging Tom’s arms, infusing them with the same energy. Tom laid back as all he could do was relax in Gold’s hands. Gold moved his hands carefully across the entire surface of Tom’s skin, everywhere his hands went hair disappeared. After finishing with his arms, he moved to his chest and then finishing with his legs, removing any stray patches of hair.  Once he was done, the only hair left was around his dick and his pits. Gold focused harder now, causing his hands to vibrate and made a second pass. This time as they swept across Tom’s body they instilled a golden tan with a touch of Italian olive as he rewrote his genetics. His hands swept through the mess of Tom’s hair, changing it into a light, crisp brown. Then he continued down, focusing on Tom’s face, cleansing it of impurities and perfecting his features. Tom’s nose and mouth shrunk, though his lips grew, and eyes turned brown. Gold poked Tom’s nipples causing them to darken and grow slightly. Golds hands then pushed the energy down Tom, doing unseen magic down his pants.

“Now, anyone can be young and pretty, but there are really only two sorts of people looking for a date around here. Alpha males, and those who wish they were. And there is one thing that get both of them going, that invites them to dominate.” Gold stepped back and framed his hands sideways as if to take an invisible picture. Then he quickly slammed his hands together. To Tom, it felt like crashing into a pool of water. All of a sudden he was being compressed. His height fell from 5′10 foot down to a more modest 5'6. His limbs crushed in on themselves to meet his new height. Feet and hands adjusting down as well. His size 10 feet shrank to a boyish 7.5. His loss of height and body hair made him look not just young, but cute. The kind of look that if he got angry people would find it adorable. How on earth was any of this going to get him laid? Gold smiled, sensing his skepticism.

“Patience fam, the best is on the way! I promised I would change your mind.” Gold took one hand and placed it on Tom’s temple and with the other grabbed his small package.

“Wait what are you…. ohhh…” Tom moaned as his muscles slacked and resistance faded. He could feel a strange hum in his mind and a stirring in his dick. The sensation scared him but it was also too pleasurable to fight. Tom’s hair began to change, his sides faded down so you could see his skin, while the hair on the top also shortened, before collecting into a cute ruffle. Tom’s pecs remained small but the remaining fat converted into muscle giving him a toned look. His arms swelled with strength and pudgy stomach shrank into a faint but hard six-pack. At the same time, his small dick began to grow, gaining inches. His facial features became more pointed, eyes darkening with hunger and lust in them, and his mouth curled into a pout smile, with his lips puffing up into a pseudo duck shape unless consciously pulled back.

Old Tom would be embarrassed at him now, but Tommy was swimming in horniness, as he began to lust for boys and sex. Any knowledge he had gained, and dreams of careers faded and were replaced with a desire for screwing every boy in town. Gold’s smile transformed into a grin.

“One last thing to make you a proper fuckboi!” Gold said as his energies forced themselves into Tommy one last time. Two shiny studs pierced his ears, glistening in the sunlight. A golden bracelet appeared on his left wrist. Tommy looked down, feeling his dick still growing and tingling, and saw Calvin Klein underwear peeking out from a pair of baller shorts, with slowly filling bulge.

“Ahhhhhhhh fuck boooooooooi!” Tommy screamed in his soft, boyish voice as he came, filling his underwear with boy cream. Posters of video games vanished, replaced by posters of boys bands, athletes and cars. His new idols and interests. His computer shrank and changed into a worn-out basketball and books evaporated, replaced with sports gear, outdoor equipment and Men’s Fitness magazines.

Having done the final touches on wardrobe, accessories and interior decoration, Gold turned to Tommy. “I have a new Grindr bio ready to go for you. Just need a new photo to update your profile with. You should take it with your shirt off. Do it somewhere public, like an elevator or shopping mall, so you look easy and cheap. It’s fucks you want after all, not a boyfriend.”

[alecmagnuslwb]

The Great Marriage License Mystery

Read on AO3

Magnus groans, back feeling like hell. He lifts himself up and immediately falls off the couch landing directly on his back onto a stack of red solo cups.

“Fuck,” he shouts out as he rolls to the side to lift himself up, a party mask on a stick digging into his side.

“Stop being so loud,” a female voice he knows well grumbles from above. Magnus finally lifts himself up into a sitting position to see Isabelle lying face down surrounded by a nest of multi colored feather boas on the couch opposite the one he’d just fallen from.

Magnus finds the inner strength to stand looking around the room. It’s his apartment, not that he remembers coming home at all, and it’s a wreck. Cups, half empty bottles of liquor and an array of party favors from the evening’s festivities cover every surface. His paintings on the walls are crooked, the strip of photobooth pictures that he and Alec had taken on their trip to Tokyo for their one-month anniversary are sitting sadly in a puddle of something. He walks over squinting his eyes against the sunlight streaming in and pics up the photo strip shaking them out best he can.

He sniffs them confirming the liquid to be vodka and not something worse. He pins them back up on the corkboard where they belong smiling at the happy looks on their faces despite the fact his head feels like there’s a tiny gnome with a hatchet running around inside of it.  

Isabelle shifts on the couch lying on her back now.

“Did we die?” she asks eyes still closed.

“Unfortunately not,” Magnus says picking up a pink cowboy hat from the chair nearest to him and plopping down into it heavily.

“What time is it?” she asks pulling a few of the feather boas around her like a blanket.

Magnus looks down at his watch about to answer when his bedroom door suddenly slams open. A flash of long red hair streaks across the apartment headed straight for the bathroom.

Clary shuts the door behind her and an unfortunate heaving sound follows. Izzy sits up quickly eager to get to her fiancée, a decision she clearly immediately regrets if the way she woozily lies back down is anything to go by.

The bathroom door swings open a moment later, Alec steps out looking disheveled as hell wearing a Hunter’s moon t-shirt he definitely hadn’t been wearing when the night before had started.

“I don’t recommend sleeping in a bathtub when you’re 6”4,” he says voice gravelly from misuse. He squints his eyes grabbing a pair of sunglasses laying on the table as he walks past it and slips them on. “You might want to check on your fiancée, she’s throwing up half her body in there.”

Alec sits down heavily on the couch beside his sister patting her on the shoulder. She nods, takes a deep breath and centers herself standing up slowly. This time she makes it picking her way through the trash littering the floor her 8-inch heels somehow still secured to her feet.

“Your weddings in like four hours, just a reminder!” Magnus shouts and wishes he hadn’t. Judging from the way Alec plugs his ears and Izzy flips him off no one else does either. Hangovers all around it seems, a sign of a good bachelorette party.

Magnus listens for a few moments to Isabelle softly reassuring Clary, heels clicking on the tile of the bathroom floor. He looks over at his boyfriend once again heaving himself to stand and flop down beside him on the bed of boas.

“Good morning baby,” Alec grumbles lifting his arm and wrapping it around Magnus’ shoulders. Magnus hums reaching up and entangling his fingers with Alec’s. He shifts enough to toss his legs over Alec’s and looks down noticing a piece of white paper sticking out from his pocket.

He raises his eyebrows leaning back enough to pull the paper from his pocket. He unfolds it and practically jolts up from the couch. In looping script that looks like Isabelle’s is his name and what appears to be one half of a marriage license.

“Ummm Magnus!” Isabelle yells rushing out of the bathroom and directly to them on the couch. Alec shifts seemingly having fallen back asleep. She shakes a piece of paper in his face almost identical to his half. “This was in MY pocket.”

Magnus takes it from her lining it up with his. A piece of the full sheet is still missing only the last name Lightwood on Isabelle’s section the first name missing. She falls beside him seeing the almost full document.

“There’s no way,” he says laughing nervously. There’s no way.

Isabelle is just as alert as he in now, eyes in a panic. Alec sits up taking off his sunglasses. He looks from the papers to Magnus’s eyes, his eyes just as wide as his sisters.

“I also have this,” she says holding up her left hand revealing a diamond band on her thumb. “It’s stuck.”

“That’s one of mine,” Magnus says looking down at one of his empty fingers. “Oh, shit that’s one of mine.”

Alec falls back into the couch, no longer pressed into Magnus’ side.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Isabelle says dropping her head into her hands.

Clary comes out of the bathroom, eye makeup resembling a raccoon with a huge bottle of mouth wash in her hands. Chairman Meow appears circling around her socked feet trying to trip her up, she takes it in stride and steps over him easily.  

“Just in case,” she says when she notices Alec judging the bottle. “So, I’m guessing from those repetitive oh my gods it’s not us that got married last night.”

“No,” Isabelle moans dramatically throwing herself on the ground, arms tossed over her eyes. “I married my brother’s boyfriend probably as a dumb joke or something the night before my wedding. Jace will never let me live this down.”

“We don’t know that. It just says Lightwood, it could be us!” Magnus argues looking at his boyfriend uncertainly. Alec looks a little bit like a deer in the headlights so Magnus scrambles. He’s not really sure what’s the better option: accidentally marrying your boyfriend of two months in a drunken stupor or marrying your boyfriend’s sister as a joke in a drunken stupor. At least he hopes it was a dumb joke if it’s the latter, the former well he’s not sure if he and Alec are ready to get into that no matter how quickly their relationship has progressed. “Or you know it’s fake, fake is an option.”

Clary steps over inspecting the paper.

“Paper’s too high quality for a fake,” she shrugs sitting down on the coffee table. Magnus gives her a pointed look, making it clear she’s not helping this situation.

The four of them sit there silently for a while. Alec is the first to speak up.

“Okay, what does everyone remember from last night? Let’s piece this together,” he says reasonably opening the floor to whoever wants to start.

It takes about twenty minutes but they get a vague timeline from memory and other evidence pulled from their pockets. They scour the apartment as they talk making hangover remedies while desperately searching for the missing piece of the license.

So far they’ve determined things started here, pre-gaming with cocktails and dinner then it was the Hunter’s Moon where Magnus absolutely demolished Alec in a series of pool games. That’s when Alec lost his shirt as well, a beer spilled on him by Jace who’d already had far too much to drink. Magnus had forgotten the detail, but Alec recalls it with annoyed clarity.

After the Hunter’s Moon, Jace had been sent home in a cab, Maia, Bat and the rest of their friends had come along with them to Pandemonium and that was where things got blurry. By 11:30 their friends had all called it a night, but the four of them had hit the dancefloor. Dancing then turned into competition when Izzy had challenged Magnus and Alec to a couple’s tequila shot off. Magnus assumes they won considering how Clary handles her liquor.

Then it all goes well and truly blank for them all. Clary’s phone is missing entirely, Alec’s is dead and seemingly has been since at least midnight. Izzy’s phone is just a series of back and forth drunken texts with Jace that are increasingly sarcastic and misspelled.

Magnus is the only one with a possible lead. There’s evidence of a Lyft being called that took them to the venue where Izzy and Clary are getting married in mere hours and a 15-minute call with Raphael somewhere around one in the morning.

Magnus dials his number immediately hoping for answers.

“You asked me to go through the whole ceremony,” Raphael says after five minutes of making fun of them all. Magnus’ childhood best friend never did finish the process of becoming a full-blown preacher, not finding it for him in the end, but he’s ordained for weddings and had happily offered to do the ceremony when Clary and Izzy still hadn’t found someone two weeks before.

“Why?” the four ask in frustrated unison.

“Dios, I don’t know. You were all trashed but you insisted, so to get you to leave me alone because some of us who are involved in this wedding wanted to get a good night’s rest, I went through the whole thing, start to finish,” he explains.

“Did vows get exchanged or anything?” Alec asks.

“Not really, but you did all say ‘I do’ at some point I couldn’t tell who though, I’m pretty sure you were all outside,” Raphael answers. “Which in theory I guess would mean someone got married, but not that it matters I mean ordained or not without a license it’s not legally binding.”

They all sigh.

“That’s the problem,” Magnus grumbles. They end the call after that saying goodbyes and see you soons.

“Alright,” Alec says sounding the level headed big brother and leader he always is. “Here’s the plan’ everyone needs to shower first. We’re short on time so that means couples, no funny business though. Raphael said we were outside, so that probably means we couldn’t get into the venue when we decided to go. Magnus and I can ask around while the two of you get ready since we have to be there anyways.”

Everyone nods their heads in agreement.

“And what do we do if it was us that got married?” Magnus asks gesturing between him and Izzy.

They’re all silent. Clary is the first to pipe up, taking this whole situation surprisingly well. Maybe throwing up half of one’s body weight brings clarity.

“I mean only the four of us saw it, it hasn’t been officially filed, just signed and if we give Raphael permission to mock us about it for the rest of our lives he won’t say anything,” she reasons.

She grabs Izzy’s hand pulling her to the shower leaving no room for argument.

Magnus blows out a long breath leaning against the kitchen counter where they’d all gathered. Alec joins him, crossing his arms.

“Are you mad I may have accidentally married your sister?” Magnus says quietly.

Alec snorts.

“No, we were all beyond drunk last night and knowing you and Izzy it was some competitive dare that went a step too far.”

Magnus chuckles, that does sound like them.

“And what if,” he pauses a little worried. “What if it was us that accidentally got married?”

Alec turns reaching up to pull a piece of confetti from Magnus’ hair. His hand slides down brushing Magnus’ cheek.

“Then we got married,” he shrugs.

Isabelle’s phone rings breaking the moment, on today of all days he’s fairly certain she’d appreciate them picking it up. It’s the caterer and the call takes long enough that he and Alec have barely five minutes for a shared shower before calling a cab to get to the venue. They don’t get to talk about Alec’s casual shrug about them being married like it wouldn’t be a big deal.

Once they’re at the venue people start filing in Maryse and Maia take charge of Isabelle while Clary is drifted away by Simon and Jace. They both lock eyes with Magnus and Alec trusting them to get answers or burn the pieces of marriage license before the days over.

Alec is the first to be fully ready so he heads around to ask the staff some questions. He eventually is led to the night security guard who simply shrugs saying he’d fallen asleep on the job. The only evidence that they were even there is in the form of Magnus’ Lyft history and a feather boa exactly like the ones in Magnus’ apartment tangled in a bush outside. Alec sends him a picture of it attached with the message, ‘I have a feeling we’re going to be finding these around New York for the rest of the year.’

Everything goes by in a rush after that. Magnus never gets the chance to bring up anything to Alec as they take their places as groomsmen.

The wedding is beautiful, Raphael does an excellent job so much so that Clary’s stepdad bursts into tears only two lines in. Clary and Izzy exchange vows that make everyone else cry and Izzy dips Clary as they kiss to everyone’s delight. They look the happiest they’ve ever been, clearly no longer thinking about the possible mistake marriage that was.

Magnus however can’t think of anything else. The sun has fallen and the cake has been cut by the time he gets a moment alone with Alec. He steps outside for some fresh air just beside the bushes where the feather boa still flaps in the wind and Alec slips out behind him. Two long arms wrap around his waist and Magnus leans back into a strong chest.

They stand there quietly, the muffled sound of music behind them.

“You know,” Magnus says eventually. “You were pretty casual about the concept of us being accidentally married this morning.”

Alec once again the picture of nonchalance just shrugs.

“I mean at first it was a lot, but once the worst of the hangover subsided I realized if it was us well, that’s not the worst thing. I love you; I have intentions to be with you for as long as you’ll have me so that works.”

Magnus shifts so that Alec is standing in front of him eyes a little glassy. Alec takes the tears to be a bad thing.

“I get it though if it’s way too soon to be thinking or saying anything like that, or,” Alec freezes as Magnus puts a finger in front of his lips.

“I feel the same way,” he smiles. “I mean it’s not ideal and like Clary said it’s not official till it’s filed, but I do feel the same way. I have no doubt in my mind we’re heading that way one day.”

Alec smiles kissing the tip of Magnus’ finger where it still rests against his lips. He pulls Magnus into a hug. Magnus rests his chin on Alec’s shoulder eyes still open and that’s when he spots it. The feather boa shifts in the wind and a small white piece of paper is revealed skewered on the prickly end of the bush.

He pulls back from Alec leaping down the two small steps to pick the piece of paper from the bush.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he says snatching up the sliver of paper and flipping it over. The missing piece of the license. Alec steps over, joining him.

“Is that?” he starts looking over Magnus’ shoulder.

Magnus nods holding it up for Alec to read. Alec smiles, pulling the Lightwood piece he’d been holding onto from his pocket as Magnus does the same with his part.

Alexander the missing piece reads in Isabelle’s looping script.

“Guess your stuck with me now,” Magnus says with a smirk.

Alec rolls his eyes fondly.

“Technically it hasn’t been filed, so not officially,” he jokes, pulling Magnus in by the waist. “Plus it’s in three pieces I don’t think the courthouse is going to accept it.”

“Pfft, just needs a little tape,” Magnus says gathering the three pieces of paper and folding them carefully before placing them in the inner pocket of his wine-red jacket a compliment to Alec’s black one and Isabelle’s deep red dress. “Plus, Clary’s stepdad is the Mayor, we can totally get some strings pulled.”

Alec laughs shifting to drape his arms over Magnus’ shoulders.

“You mean it?” he asks.

Magnus nods. “We have to have a party bigger than this one at some point though,” he says gesturing back to the reception hall. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Of course,” Alec says seriously.  “So we’re gonna be Mr. and Mr. Lightwood then?”

Magnus hums tapping a finger to his chin in thought.

“I was thinking Mr. and Mr. Bane actually.”

“I like the sound of that,” Alec says before pulling Magnus into a kiss.

They never do piece together the night exactly. Eventually Izzy gets the ring off her thumb and it fits Alec’s ring finger perfectly they discover, Magnus in turn realizes he has an exact double of it that he starts wearing himself. Why Isabelle filled out the license or if they kissed after they said I do or even actually said it is never truly answered.

Their actual marriage will be a mystery for the rest of their lives, but Magnus does get his party an acceptable six months after Clary and Izzy’s.

[malethirsty]

Californication: Reloaded [Hank Moody]

Hell-In-One

Summary: Following your one night stand with Hank, you attempt to keep your distance to minimize the impact. However a run in with the ex could cause the biggest of impacts

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!), Daddy Kink

You & Hank sat at the same table at Reublique, trying to work out the predicament you had gotten yourselves into. “At least there aren’t any press around chasing authors tonight” Hank said lightly, trying to attain a positive mood, it didn’t work. “That was a massive gamble!” You said back “I thought you were rich and could bribe the CCTV off, but the press? Hank you know they don’t care, they’d publish pics with ‘Hank Moody Seen Getting Cozy With Daughter’s Best Friend: Scandal, Shock, Intrigue!’” “I know that! If it got out, my divorce settlement would be on the rocks!” “Then why did you arrange it?” You asked “Because I don’t do things lightly in life, you need to live a little.”

You both steadied your breathing. “So what do we do now?” Hank asked “I guess we wait for a bit, step back & re evaluate our situation, see if we want to move forward.” He swallowed at your statement. “I guess so” he begrudgingly said, you partly wanted to ask ‘Well what do you think?!’ But didn’t want to run after him, so you kept it down. “So what is with your Writer’s Block that you & Becca were talking about?” Hank turned the coversation to his struggles and the matter was dropped. Two hours in and you’d only gotten a bit more forwards with his writing, however you planned to have him go from there as you decided to give him space, so he and you could relax.

A week into this and things instead of getting better, had only gotten worse. You became withdrawn from everything, not even your own songwriting could be fixed, it was as if Hank’s writers block was contagious. Hank, it had been a while since you shared as much as a conversation, yet you ached for him so much. “What’s up Y/N?” Becca’s voice asked from nowhere “The damn ceiling” you responded sardonically “Woah! What’s with the tone?” Becca responded, a bit taken aback. ‘How can I broach this with her?’ You thought ‘“I fucked your dad who could have gotten his sexcapade with me caught by the paps, his divorce pushed back, his property and cash swindled & my friendship with you broken.” How the hell could you say that?’ Luckily you didn’t have to “Did your hookup not go so well.” She inquired “Something along those lines yes.” “What happened? He had B.O.? Bad breath? No respect for you?” “What? No!” “Then what?” Becca said, crossing her arms, you knew you had to phrase this properly so to spare Hank “He’s famous Becca” her eyes widened “And?! Can you not handle someone having all the attention?” You looked scandalised “No!” “Well then, what’s so bad about being famous?” This coversation had you trapped in a whirl, but inthe face of it, you breathed in heavily & continued. “He has a reputation, a reputation he put on the line by buying out Republique. If someone had caught us, everything would have exploded.” “And that’s why you have been distant.” “Yeah, we talked and wanted time to work things out, but that’s the general gist.”

Becca thought about it for a moment and then responded “I think you’ve overreacted a bit” “ME!” You spluttered “You’re meant to be my friend, take my side!” “I am, and I would be amiss if I were to let you let a good man like that slip through your grasp. If he was prepared to do that, he must really give a shit about you. I know you want to look out for people, but I think it’s going to be a detriment in this case. You should call him and explain everything.” “Alright, I’ll do it later.” You said, desperate to avoid her staying with you & finding out the ‘Good Man’ was her dad. “Good. I’m heading out to practice with my band, if I get back & find you haven’t, I’ll call him myself.” Not wanting Becca to set you & her father up, you gulped & pleased her message sunk in, she left.

The only issue was what to say to Hank ‘I’ve changed my mind about it, please dick me down in public’ did not seem the right way to go about it. You were wondering what you could possibly say, when your phone made noise, a notification. Opening it, you grinned at seeing it from Hank, his blog had been updated for the first time in ages, he was getting over or already over his writers block. So you read from his latest post

Hank Hates You All (Blog #1):

A few things I’ve learnt in my travels, through this thing we call life are

#1: A morning of awkwardness is far better than a night of loneliness. #2: While I may not go down in history, I’ll definitely go down on your friend. #3: If you are famous and are going to fuck someone, make sure cameras aren’t going to follow you.

The last point begs the question: Why is society so quick to demonise sex?

As you read through his points, you grinned. It seemed like he had both understood what you were trying to say and was reaching out with his own words. You had bolstered confidence by the end and knew what you had to do. You raced downstairs “Hank, I need to talk to you!” Before getting an eyefull of a naked woman downstairs who was coated with black diamonds all over her breasts “Oh My God!” You yelled, covering your eyes “What? Who the hell are you!” The women equally shouted back “Y/N, Becca asked me over!” “Oh shit, I remembered her telling me, I thought you went out with her for music stuff.” “I passed, wasn’t up for it. With all these questions, can I ask why there are black diamonds on your tits?” “A Hell-In-One, the beauty parlour vajazzles diamonds onto peoples beeasts, there is a option if getting black diamonds all applied at once, all black, like a spooky theme.” “Well who are you trying to impress? Tim Burton?” You exasperatedly said “No, I asked my new boyfriend here in advance so I could fuck in my ex husband’s house, like a free living thing.” Husband? Oh no, so this must be “Karen? Y/N?” came Hank’s voice. Your vision started to blur and darken.

You woke sometime later, a familiar face above you “Hey there babe.” Came Hank’s voice “You gave us a scare then.” You groaned “That was your ex wife?” “Yeah.” Hank responded “She’s seeing a man called Bill, she’s all set to move on.” “That’s twice I’ve seen a Moody nude. If I see Becca naked, I’m gonna become Amish.” Hank laughed “I might go with you. We’d be away from the press then“ Ouch, that was a sting “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about before I ran into the ‘Hell-In-One’” you shuddered “It’s good I know you’re into men, cause otherwise that shudder could be taken for something worse.” “Well, I read your blog Hank. And I got advice about what to do. And I think that by trying to protect us from ruining things, I might actually be causing problems, cause I’ve been miserable since I wanted space. I’m not sure what it’s like for you, but I would like to give things another chance.”

Hank leant over, kissing you. “You have no fucking idea how happy I am now. I’ve tried to write, drink & watch my Cinemax porn, but I always get brought back to you.” “I shudder to ask but what was it about?” “This time it was a scientology themed one called Pussy Impossible? Talking about how difficult it could be to get laid in that place.” “Was it from David Miscaviage’s POV cause after he offed his wife, no reasonable women would go near him.” “I think you’re giving the women of that place credit they don’t have.” You both grinned and laughed at this point, the good emotions finally came flooding back, like when the power comes back on after a blackout.

“Well I guess I should let you sleep.” Hank began “No!” You said, startling him “It’s that, I really have missed you Hank, like really have, Can you fuck me?” Hank grinned at you “Well Karen’s gone & Becca is still out practicing, we have the house to ourselves and we can make all the damn noise we want.” You began to rid yourself of all the clothing you had on, Hank yanking his pants down to his feet, his cock flopping out “I usually go commando.” He explained “With a sex presence like yours, you shouldn’t even wear clothes.” You flirted. His cock hardened, it’s pink head becoming visible “God, suck daddy’s cock.” Hank groaned, you obeying almost immediately.

You spent a while sucking Hank off, making the man moan and groan as you paid attention to his head & rolled his balls, making him moan in appreciation “Keep that up & I’ll cum.” An idea forming in your head, you kept going, Hank attempted to pull you off but you stayed “Y/N, don’t you want me to fuck you? I’ll blow in a moment and it takes a-ah- a while for me to get hard again.” You nodded on his cock, humming a bit which caused Hank to throw his head back and let multiple curses and your name flow from his mouth as he shot his load down your throat. You pulled away “Taste’s like cherries daddy, must be all the alcohol.” Hank’s legs shook causing him to fall on the bed “Fuck, that’s the best head I’ve had in years!” You grinned making sure he was paying attention, you slid your finger down your face as if to clean it off which made Hank grin. “What a fucking slut you are for daddy.” He grinned, kissing you again. After a while, Hank’s cock got hard again, he sat up & pulled his shirt partly over his neck, tasing your hole “Could you picture the press snapping pics at what we’re doing right now?” “Oh fuck me already.” You groaned “You got a gag order on the writers?” “I’ll be getting a gag order on you for the rest of the week if you don’t start fucking me!” You snapped back “You are one kinky bitch” Hank groaned in lust as he finally began to fuck you. His pace was sharp & reverberated around the room, you moaning out as Hank made love to you.

“Yeah that’s it! Move back onto Daddy’s cock & take it all balls deep!” Hank moaned & you obeyed him wholeheartedly. You arched your back which allowed him to fuck more, making him groan at all the tightness he was slamming into. “Fuck, I know I’ve said it before, but FUCKING HELL you are tighter than Karen, holy shit! How are you still so tight?” “I haven’t fucked anyone since you, so I’ve had time to heal I guess.” “Well, I’ll be taking that tightness away soon, cause I’m not going that long between fucking you again!” You enthusiastically threw yourself back, causing you both to groan “Oh yeah! You’re daddy’s good boy! Fuck yourself on my cock!” The filth spewing from Hank’s mouth was never ending & you were gonna keep it that way.

Somehow stretching your legs wider, Hank got deeper, his moans becoming breathier, you could tell he wouldn’t last much longer. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna come!” You nodded, breathless to say anything else. Hank wanked your cock, making you moan, eyes rolling back into your head as you shot your load “So fuckin’ good babe! You’re clenching around me so tight, I’m gonna fucking blow, OH YES!” Hank roared out as he shot his load deep into your ass. Moaning out, Hank fell right onto you, you were strong enough to toss him aside back first “Don’t crush me! Death by daddy is not how I wanna go down.” Hank laughed “Well I now know you don’t wanna go down, but I like it.” You rolled your eyes “Well I know you like-Oh!” You groaned out as Hank began to eat you out, tasting his shot load. “It really does taste like cherry, except muskier.” You laughed as Hank fell back first, needing some time before a much needed next round. You both happily groaned out a “Fuck!”

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

WhatsApp? Part 8. (Steve Rogers x reader)

Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you

A/N:  @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory thank you for reblogging! I notice every note and reblog you left me, babez! But I have a seriously hard time responding even to my own gf at the time, bcs I'm in the more depressed mood. Sorry.

Word count: 2 K 

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @songforhema, @mikariell95

Read the rest here: Part One  Part Two  Part three  Part four  Part five  Part Six  Part seven

If you like to have your readings in order :):  H E R E  

The big evening finally came. Every one of you was in the backstage, listening to some stand-up comedian. He truly was hilarious.

It was simple - there was a hall full of people who had bought the tickets in pre-order. All of that money went to a charity. Then they could give more money if they wanted to the lady by the ticket station. After every show, the hall cleared out and people with tickets on the next show sat at the tables, ordered some drinks and waited for it to start. Some shows had twenty minutes, but there were other people, who had five minutes lasting shows as you were.

There were even people from the Marina present, those who were voted to take the check from Tony Stark himself as well. And they looked like they had a hella good time.

"I will sit next to you, would you mind?" - Deena said, already sitting down. You scooped a bit further to make some place for her ass. Then the both of you turned your heads to look at the guy performing. You both laughed. There was some singers, some bands, some other Charity workers - there was basically everyone. You even got a bit too excited when you saw Pepper freaking Potts sitting at the table in the back of the hall next to Happy Hogan.

Through the whole evening, you texted with Steve. You told him every of your itsy bitsy feelings and he was so kind that he has listened to you all the time. Meanwhile, girls have done your make-up and your hair, so you looked like a real lady coming straight from the forties.

May's hair was the hardest do make - she had a long, strong hair and she has a hell lot of them, which made it almost impossible to do. Yet she was now standing behind you on her high heels, looking definitely breathtaking.

Y/N: Never realizes that there will be so many people out here! I'm getting pretty nervous, handsome.

Steve: Do not freak out. It is going to be completely fine. We are here out with Bucky and Sam, pouring down some drinks. We are looking forward to your performance, girls. We truly do.

Y/N: Yeah, looking forward to seeing me killing somebody else?

Steve: Stop it. You will be great. And you will not convince me otherwise. And I will be there to see all of it.

That made you smile. Steve was the mental and emotional support to you every step you made and every breath you took, just like in that The Police song. When you felt insecure about you looking fat, Steve reminded you of how blown away he was just with the way you looked in that costume. When you thought that your make-up and your hair is too much, Steve texted back that you'll be beautiful to him no matter how much you'll put on.

He truly was trying to make every one of your little insecurities go away and he was doing a great job.

"He's somewhere out here tonight?" - Deena asked all of a sudden. She and Val took some really sultry sapphic photos before that and you were sure that they'll be used when you'll recap your whole year on the office Christmas party. They both looked sexy as hell, Deena even went so far she had shortened her skirt and wear her super push-up bra to make her cleavage more visible.

"Not at the moment, but he'll be. Yeah." - You nodded with a shy smile of a nervous girl. It was so strange, knowing that Steve will be there, checking out each of your moves with his bros.

You never showed him your face, but daily life pics became a next step between for the two of you. When you were at work, you took a simple headless selfie in the bathroom mirror, at lunch you photographed your food and you also sent him a photo of you in your PJ, doing a routine movie watching with some popcorn and Coke.

Steve, on the other hand, was a serious piece of cake. You drooled and you didn't even realize that your mouth was wet all over from your own saliva.

To say that Steve was buffed as fuck was a serious understatement. He was ripped like a Greek god. Maybe even they were nothing on his body. His usual daily selfie was a mirror one with him having a white, usually sweaty t-shirt and grey work out sweats. There was usually a bottle of water included. Sometimes he snapped a quick picture of him getting ready. Once you even felt your heart-stopping because of the sight of his collar bones and shoulders in a work out tank top.

At that moment, you were ready to call yourself some good ol' ambulance, because your eyes were drowning at that sight. He was a guy with a naturally sweet nature, so huge and ripped and yet somehow he hadn't found a girlfriend to be with. You couldn't comprehend.

Before meeting him on WhatsApp, you didn't believe in fucking miracles - but here he was and he seemed to be into you. You were hella out of your mind.

Yep. You had gotten off because of those pictures. Once or twice. But that was not your fault at all. You were a woman, someone who had their specific needs. That's just how it was. And Steve seriously was someone who even Val found seriously attractive.

Girls from the office were obsessed all over you two - sometimes, Deena and Suzie sang that you're in love and you answered that you're not. Which obviously became a really dramatic I won't say I'm in love from Hercules. But yeah. Just to be honest, you were all over the fucking place bevause of him. Which happened never ever before. And you haven't even met that man at the time. It was really fucking weird. It felt like his face isn't important to you - you knew him. That's what mattered.

"Do you think you'll be able to see him? Like a sixth sense? It would be as exciting as the end of the Titanic." - Deena sighed dreamily. You frowned at that.

"If you think that the death of basically 60% of the passengers was exciting... You do you I guess." - You answered with a strange expression on your face. 

“Hey. You have that sexy hunk just waiting for every word you want to write to him and not each of us has the opportunity to have that. Some of us just develop a simple crush on Leo DiCaprio. Did you even see that little angelic baby in that movie? Jeez.” - Deena giggled. When she started, she was deadly serious, but in the end, she was laughing. 

But she was totally clear about her crush on Leo. She even had a collection of t-shirts with Leos face on it. But she was all truthful - not everyone finds someone like you found Steve. All it took was a couple of coincidences and there you were.

“But it's nice. Men like that remind you that gentlemen are not a dead thing yet, even now.” - She leaned her shoulder into yours, smiling all happily. - “But I am a bit jealous about all of that, not gonna lie.” 

Your head slowly bobbed and you leaned your forehead into khaki green cap masterly pinned into her hair with some pinnets. She was looking all good. 

And she was right per se. Steve was truly something the others could be only possibly jealous of. And you should be really, really glad for him

And your gratefulness was the thing that made you all nervous about him being present while you do a total asshat in front of anybody else. 

The time flew past you without you barely noticing. There were two other performers in the line in front of your office, and at the next moment, May was gripping your elbow and lead you to the moral hooray before you actually went to the stage. She was probably the best motivational speaker you ever heard, those men and women with courses were nothing on May Parker.

“Okay ladies, I am sincerely proud of you for not being afraid and actually doing all of this. I can't even express how happy I am that I found so many amazing women to do something like that with me. You're all looking flawless, pretty and lovely and I know we will nail the choreography because we worked hard almost every evening for the past few months, we will nail it. And now stand up and let's kick the others their asses!” - May yelled cheerfully. Every one of you clapped, those who had the need to express themselves louder, those cheerfully blew a whistle for May. 

You feel a little confident - nothing too much harsh, nothing too big, but at least you felt positive about yourself when you took your chair and walked onto the stage.

---

“Can you feel the tension in the air? Something's coming.” - Sam nudged Bucky's side with his elbow. Bucky just gave him an ice-cold look and took his another beer from Sam's palm. 

Steve made Sam take the tickets from the lady sitting behind the counter with all highschool girl nervousness - he was able to almost kill Sam when he joked about leaving the tickets on the counter. He was super nervous, super curious, almost not able to keep the feelings contained inside. 

Their small group walked into one of the back tables with a clear view - you tried to take the best places which will be basically on the distance of a stretched arm. It was also close to the bar, which was some great news for Sam. 

“Just jokin', Mr. Grumpy. I'm kinda curious about that girl. You plan on showing us or you will keep a secret?” - Sam sat on the other side of Bucky, taking a strong swing of his beer. 

“Probably a secret. It would not be fair for you to know her face before she knows mine.” - Steve giggled and crawled deeper into his hood. He was worse than Natasha when she was on her missions, just tried to keep his identity in secret, but that was extremely hard because of how enormous he was. 

“Like if birdbrain knew what intimacy or privacy is.” - Bucky said with an ironic tone of voice which made Sam frown as hell again. 

“Well excuse me, but I know today's world more than you two will ever have the chance to. Don't try to make me angry, 'cause you can lose your biggest guide just like dat.” - Sam said with all serious face, but every one of them knew that he's shitting them. 

Y/N: Okay, it's here. Wish me luck, cross your fingers, do whatever the hell you want, but enjoy it.

A text came just short second before all the lights turned down and Steve curiously wiggled on his chair with an expression of a small child. And at that moment, a serious load of ladies in forties female formal clothes came out of the curtains with chairs in their hands. And even tho he couldn't see the shirt you had under your uniform, at that moment, he exactly knew which one of them is you.

[prinzessmetal]

Welcome to my blog. I want to write about some things that I don’t feel comfortable getting into on other platforms as often as they are happening. I want a place to talk about my health struggles in hopes that it will help people choose themselves and their bodies. If I had known 10 years ago the medications and episodes that are part of my life now it might have helped. If someone hurts you and tells you that you can handle something you don’t feel like you can please seek help even if you just tell a friend rather than internalize that. Trigger warning ahead: abuse and health problems. When I was in elementary school I asked my parents to homeschool me. I wanted to do acting full time and I wanted to do music when I was old enough. This is what Judy Garland did according to a bio pic so it was probably a good plan. I had a lot of crazy almost moments. I auditioned for Hannah Montana and Hermione and got pretty far in call backs. I got called in by the guy who signed Britney. My old manager dated Lana Del Rey before she released anything and told me my music was too depressing like his girlfriend’s and I would need to be more uplifting or I would end up like her. I worked from when I was a kid until now. I enjoy telling stories and making art so that some insignificant feeling of mine can blossom into something beyond me. I think a lot of entertainers have a similar set of needs. There’s people who happen upon it and there’s people who live and breathe and die for it. Maybe there’s a hole to fill or they feel things so deeply they want to get it out and set it free. This was the complete focus of my life. Except for love. I wouldn’t trade my work for anything except for a man threatening to leave. I have always been scared of that feeling and I have done some pretty predictable things to avoid it. Dyed my hair, paid for parts for a moped, moved across the country, and allowed another human with a lower iq and no job to break my heart over and over again. I did that several times, I mean, what are your 20’s for? I think a lot of women spent their 20’s feeling like they were raising their boyfriends. But, I stayed when men crossed lines that aren’t just normal and routine and those things ended up hurting me. When I was 19 I moved to Nashville to record an album. My music manager and my boyfriend were both control freaks with a lot of rage. I was “not like the other girls.” At 19 I was a manic pixie repressed dream. I was terrified to be too much or not enough and I was raised to be sweet and soft. I couldn’t imagine yelling back or ruining someone’s wants with my needs. My inner child actor didn’t know how much adult was too much adult. I looked about 13 and I felt about 60. One day my boyfriend was screaming at the top of his lungs and I was concerned about the neighbors hearing it. I had recorded with session players that day in the studio and I didn’t explain to him (as he found from my posts online) that some of them were more attractive than I had let on. I am not sure what level of graphic I will get into on this blog but I will say for now it “got worse.” My mom happened to be calling when this was going on and my pocket answered and she overheard. She flew out a few days later and wanted to know if I was okay. I lied and I told her that he was never like that and he had been under a lot of pressure trying to find a new job. I didn’t want to lose him for whatever reason at the time felt like the end of the world. Some nights I would go for drives to get away and cry to “Razzle Dazzle Rose” by Camera Obscura (great song to drive and cry to) until I had a headache and I would head back home when he had fallen asleep. In the mornings he was always extremely sorry and a completely different person who “would change.” At the end of this relationship I started getting chest pains. I think I went to an ER and was sent home with anxiety. I thought it was weird how badly anxiety hurt my physical heart and odd that it was deemed okay. But it seemed likely true as I was 19. Over the next few years I dated different people some like the first guy and some gentler. I was raised around anger and big highs and lows and angry people thought me to be comforting. I tried my best to avoid mistakes and things that caused problems because I didn’t feel I had the stamina i just wasn’t sure why. It often caused that chest pain I didn’t understand. At 24 my body started not feeling like itself more consistently. I often had chest pain and missed heart beats (pvcs and pacs) and my body hurt a lot for no reason. I felt rushes and I would feel dizzy and faint and out of breath. I was given a variety of names for all this. I had dysautonomia, POTS, autonomic dysfunction, “a weird nervous system” or just anxiety. I read all about different conditions but I didn’t know what I had but I knew my body wasn’t well anymore. I spent the next couple years being known as a hypochondriac. “Nothing is wrong with your heart Molly.” I still associate the hospital’s hold music with the mantra “it’s not your heart” that was routinely on the other end of it. I eventually gave up. I must have had some psychosomatic issue and I was probably crazy and I wanted to start living again. I was tired of chest pain with no cause and angry boyfriends ruling my life. I wanted my music to have a chance and I worked harder than ever. I also experimented with night life and smoked a cigarette or 2 or 3 and I got a few hangovers. I was a normal 20-something. Finally the homeschooled neurotic girl was kind of fun or I became some version of myself I was meant to be had I not taken some wrong turns or slept with the wrong people. I remember people would say to me “I can’t keep up with her she’s wild” and I was thrilled I had never been particularly fun I had always just been working or isolating myself with some guy. Neither cause helped the other and I had nothing to show for the last few years but I felt alive for the first time since maybe grade school. I let myself be free. One day I ate a friend’s edible and I had what I thought was a traditional panic attack. My heart was racing and I wanted to run away from it. A normal bad reaction to edibles. But my heart hurt for days. I couldn’t keep up with my (tall) boyfriend at the pace we normally walked and it was hard wearing the shoes that I did and I started avoiding the stairs. I was out of breath and in a lot of pain and it kept shooting down my left arm. I went back to my (famous and respected) cardiologist and she said not to come back to the clinic anymore as it was causing her team and myself to falsely believe that my problems were cardiac in nature. Except it turns out that I have heart disease. It took 6 cardiologists and a lot of ER visits to get any answers. I’m a young woman trying to get her life set up and I have heart disease. I hear over and over “it’s not your heart” and the hold muzak playing louder and louder and my boyfriends telling me to stop making up chest pain to get away from their rage and my music manager telling me it was stage fright and my old therapist telling me it would go away if I did the work inside my mind. I have Prinzmetal Angina. It got out of control after a bad car accident and a traumatic and stressful month last December. My coronary arteries were spasming shut and I spent January-June getting a lot of stern looks and speeches about anxiety from doctors and nurses all while I really just needed Calcium Channel Blockers and various forms of Nitroglycerin. I intend to pursue my music and art. I’m in a band and I am not going to change and become the normal picture of chronic illness which generally neuters people. I’m still young and intend to stay in touch with that the best I can. Some days I can take over the world and some days I have to stay in bed and some days I need to go to hospital for extra nitro and morphine. A lot happens behind the scenes I don’t always know how to share on instagram and twitter so I made this blog. I like to share my art in those places which I consider to define me more than how my body is not working. But, it’s a huge part of my experience and I would like somewhere to share it. I don’t normally feel comfortable talking about my bad dating choices and abuse but I think it’s important for people to know that the damage from it can be very real. Prinzmetal Angina was just studied with relationship abuse as being traumatic enough to cause it. I think we downplay how bad abuse hurts us and tell people to just get a grip. Maybe if I had read this when I was younger I would have treated myself differently and chose more carefully who I let near me. I hope you enjoy this blog and take care of your body and appreciate the days you feel free. Xo Joon

[cruddyborderlandstheories]

Museum of Mayhem Art Analysis

ahhh it’s finally here and it’s AWESOME. Lots of credit to @ifalnasminiatures for bringing this to my attention! Also credit to Hayder Hype for providing (nat zero six on gearbox forums) sources (Ashley Landry on twitter) in the description of his video because oh man it’s a lot

you can view most of these art pieces on the borderlands instagram as well

lots to talk about especially regarding the calypso twins so let us dive right in

tl;dr: tyreen has a weird red marking on her face in some old designs. i think troy used to be blind and missing his metal plates. more proof for my elpis/chemical sludge/lost legion theory that the twins are using said chemical sludge to give their followers psuedo-siren powers bc a dahl pumping station (hyperion pumping stations on pandora) but dahl had a presence on the moon

one of my favorites, it reminds me a lot of the Mask of Mayhem, but for villains.

Punk Girl is shown again twice, probably further proving she’s tied in with the CoV somehow

we also got some crazy looking villains such as

baby face. which is all kinds of extremely fucked up

this dude who looks like he could be a miniboss with the glasgow smile and the cool goggles

this guy who i legitimately thought was dr zed for a hot second there

could it be

the evilest brother?? pfft nahhh

this girl who seems like she could be a unique character with a baseball cap. wondering if maybe she’s related to Punk Girl in any way. What’s the verdict on the other band members? 🤔

uhh let’s give it a solid maybe and move on

this piece! very interesting to me

so, the very first thing i noticed is zane’s eye patch being on the other eye lol

amara’s tattoos are also gone, however that might’ve been for reasons similar to the japanese cover art of the game. 

most interestingly is a point @ifalnasminiatures made and it’s that the calypso twins are actually palette swapped! you can see Troy is the one with the white hair and Ty is the one with the darker hair. which I think mayyy play into a few things we see later about the twins

we also see a tiny ship in the background. i can’t tell if that’s sanctuary-iii or the blue/yellow ship, it all blends together a lot due to the quality of the pic. but it is next to the calypso twins, which makes me want to believe it’s the blue/yellow ship we see with red markings all over it. you know this one from the mural of mayhem wallpapers

you can see the reddish markings on the back right next to the engines

then we have ummm

this cover art

😬

thanks for not using this one gearbox cuz 

oh my god

she just reminds me of suicide squad, that’s not a good image you wanna dredge up from the deep recesses of your fans’ brains

she might be a unique character given the clothes/hair? cuz you don’t normally see psychos with stilettos on. or yknow, shoes in general. the hair also seems way to clean and neat to be a psycho/cultist

i just feel uncomfortable looking at this, so moving on

a different logo. also not my favorite cover art, but at least im not physically uncomfortable looking at this. that poor girl’s pelvis... anyway

lots of silhouettes

interestingly, i feel like the roses might have been a thing they just put in for the new cover art. haven’t seen hide nor hair of them across any of the pictures i’ve seen.

we got a lot of figures. out of them i most definitely recognized amara, salvador, maya, another salvador?, zer0, moze (maybe?), and axton. i thiiink one of them is maya as well, but im not 100% on that. 

i can guess why they didn’t pick this one: it’s hard to tell who’s who. a lot of these poses make the silhouettes kinda hard to see and the merging together at the bottom makes things even worse. i do think it’s interesting there are some bl2 characters on here as well, but hayder hype mentioned they very well could be placeholders, and given that i can’t make out fl4k or zane, im inclined to believe him.

this art which was used during the promo for this event

rip elpis i guess LMAO

a better look at the psycho himself from the promo released by the borderlands twitter.

there’s a new red planet which hasn’t been shown off before, looks like a gassy planet kinda like jupiter, but interestingly it has this green crack in the side?

very reminiscent of pandora’s eridium scar. i am wondering if this is because this planet had a vault opened, or if it is tied to the Eridians at all. be interesting if it was their homeworld.

also i have no idea what the symbolism is in the homeworld destroying another planet but maybe we shouldn’t think about it too hard e_e

the other planet that’s being destroyed... idk fellas

it doesn’t match up to me but like, this is only one shot

i don’t know 🤔 if you really squint, maybe you can see that hint of purple at the bottom there?

here

tbh, i thought this was elpis the first time i saw it due to the cracks, but i figured elpis doesn’t have like continents across its surface, just craters. and wayyy more cracks.

so it’s probably not pandora and it’s probably not elpis.

huh...

i do think the actual shot is suspended above promethea, you can see the familiar asteroid belt surrounding it

there’s also a planet in the background,

which i imagine isn’t pandora bc no eridian scar

could be elpis or eden-6, or the 5th planet we don’t know about. i kinda get the feeling the 5th planet may be that gaseous red planet tho. which is probably going to be super weird to traverse now that i think about it. they said oz kits weren’t coming back, right? i wonder how that would work. hmmmm

there’s also this redder planet here which i actually DO think is Pandora. if you squint real hard u can see the purple from the eridian scar. plus the color matches up pretty well with the pictures provided above.

there’s also these two bodies over in the corner where the light is coming from. i can’t tell what they’re supposed to be

there are also these little dudes in the top right

i assume they’re maliwan? they remind me a lot of the maliwan drop ship things that fly overhead when you enter promethea

YESSS okay this is the start of some PRETTY WILD twin stuff

troy: missing his tattoos, blind in one eye, has a weird mark above his eyebrow. also, no metal bits!

Tyreen!!! with a red stripe across her left cheek going up to her eye??? no tattoos on her left arm as far as we can see, but that might be for marketing reasons (she’s also covering up part of her bicep). she’s also missing her coat and chains and wearing a different glove.

we also have a bunch of bl2 VHs taking up space. again i think hayder hype is right in that they’re simply placeholders. not much else to say, but 

this trend of Tyreen having red markings on her face and Troy being blind in an eye (or both) actually continues through a fair amount of these posters!!!

more cover art. one of my least favorites again... i just think it looks like the psycho is puking out the VHs. also, seems to be an older version of the psycho mask.

fl4k seems to be less rendered than the rest of the cast? like they have less detail, especially on their coat

also you can see an older looking space shuttle up at the top, which reminds me a lot of the one we use in TFTBL to get to helios. except less caravanny and more rockety

the splatter also reminds me of siren powers, with the purple and the glitter. it’s cool that it’s showing a different shot than what’s behind it. maybe a hint to siren powers because it’s sort of like a portal.

more puke! 

this time troy is blind in both eyes it seems,

tyreen seems to still have a mark on the left side of her face, im wondering if this ties into her scars at all? it doesn’t seem as prominent as the previous red mark.

Zane seems to have an actual eye patch instead of his more high-tech eye patch, which reminds me a lot of the leaked character concepts from like january i wanna say

amara seems to be dual wielding lol i wonder if originally that was going to be one of her 3 skills but then they were like “wait salvador. wait. nisha. FUC-”

also fl4k is being obscured by this weird saturn-like planet. let them be free!

moze is missing, the saturn like planet shows up 2 times total, and that blue/yellow ship is seen again behind troy

as for the purple stuff? you already know my theory that the twins are going to be using the chemical sludge on elpis to empower their followers. it could also just be straight eridium/slag. you know, like the testing from the WEP with bloodwing and even krieg. we’ll have to see. it would be interesting if they tied krieg into the story through there.

i do lowkey think it’s chemical sludge though, because some of it is actually glowing blue in places, you can see it clearly below amara’s feet. maybe some tie in to siren powers cuz they glow the same blueish color. who knoooows not i

big shot of this psycho here, looks like he’s crumbling. 

i really like the 4 VHs standing at the base with the elongated shadows. very dark vibes from this tho, probably not suitable for the series as a whole. i can see why maybe they decided not to do it. 

i wonder if we’ll see this giant psycho statue somewhere on pandora. it would certainly be a sight to behold. 

also i kinda wish we had cloaks like the concept art shows. cloaks are cool

more sketchy art. this one is also kinda strange, i definitely get why they decided not to go thru with it.

possibly tie-in with the ‘mother’ imagery we get on the propaganda signs across pandora.

lmfao the foot

very bl2 like, im glad they didn’t stick with this. i like that they decided to change things up

troy seems to be blind and also missing his metal implants on his face. his jacket also looks a lot different, it looks more like tyreen’s with the spikes and stuff across it. we also can’t see his metal arm at all, tho we do see his sword! which looks a lot different, im glad they decided to revamp it to be more visually interesting lol

tyreen is more interesting to me. it looks like her right arm has like a silver coating over it? unless that is a metal arm as well. she also is wearing a different kind of glove. her tattoos are missing as well, but again, it’s probably because of the cover art. her scars also definitely seem to have reached her left cheek at some point.

zane also looks a lot different, tho amara, moze, and fl4k look about the same.

another shot of the ship, this one is definitely the blue/yellow one. there’s gotta be some significance with that, right? either we’re getting skins for sanc-iii, we’re going to be painting it a new color, or it’s a different ship.

what the HECK

maybe the twins stole sanc-ii and we’re using sanc-iii. idek. this ship is driving me up a wall lol

gun head.

not a lot to say here. i actually like this one lol it’s very mellow and straight to the point. it’s nice that the logo is right in the middle, not at the top like most of them.

game. buy it. okay? cool.

similar to the other background we did, a bit different. again, like @ifalnasminiatures pointed out, the twins are actually palette swapped here. 

Zane also has the old eyepatch on his right eye instead of his left eye, and his jacket is black instead of blue. fuckin’ edgelord.

one of my favorite ones out of all of them. it’s beautiful, i really wish they had kept it. Fl4k is missing but i assume they were meant to go next to Amara? i also think it’s interesting Moze is in the front, as I took Amara to be the leader this time around. Zane is also an older design, with the eyepatch back on his left eye again (starting to think this is an aesthetic thing lol) and a black jacket instead of blue.

We see the twins on the top. Tyreen has that mark on her face again, and Troy is the same as the last few covers.

We also see Maya, Zer0, and for some reason Brick? Which is weird to me considering we have a few other characters who initially feel much for important to the story (cough Lilith cough), but I’m not complaining. 

the purple splatters again make me think this is a tie in to eridium/slag/elpis’s chemical sludge. i also like the logo being worked into the design instead of just thrown on top, i think that’s a nice detail

i couldn’t find a great shot of this poster which is a shame because it’s one of my favorites

a lot of baddies to go around on here. i love the dude up top, he reminds me of the Anchormen from the captain scarlett dlc in bl2!

these dudes

we can see Punk Girl on the left again

and this guy who appears to be in some medieval armor

i have no idea what’s going on there but i am EXCITED

i’ve been thinking and tbh i think the multiple planets thing was just an excuse for gearbox to go absolutely ham on the character designs/settings. 

i mean why should they have to hold back all their medieval armor designs for another dlc like tiny tina’s? all their pirate/sea-fairing designs for a pirate dlc? fuck it! go WILD. i think they did, anywho

there’s also this post which... tbh i can’t make out much at all. again, seems like an older psycho mask design. it looks like there are characters in the splatter on the bottom left, but it’s very hard to tell who’s who, especially at this angle and image quality lol

if we get a better shot later on i may return to this piece and try to figure things out!

we also have this piece which is giving me huge ‘Happy Together’ vibes. very trippy

moze looks like she’s using an untextured atlas gun? dunno what’s going on with that tbh lol

i really like this one too. it’s cool. i get why maybe they wanted to go a little crazier tho, feels too simplistic for the MAYHEM vibe they’re going for.

oof! can we get an F in chat for whatever planet/moon this is

lots of pink floyd vibes going on here as well

we see a different looking blue/yellow ship flying away from the explosion. it seems to missing a lot of the parts that make sanc-iii so recognizable including the engines/wings

i like the destruction vibe they’re going for here, really sells the “universe destroying power” the twins are supposedly going to get. 

anyway, in addition to the cover art pieces, we also got a few concept art pieces as well!

this bit which looks like a gun

you see the aiming mechanism up there? you see how it’s aimed at that planet/moon? yeah i 100% timed this so you’d see the above concept art with this immediately after :P (im kidding i didn’t but hey now you don’t have to scroll)

fuck yeah babey

we also have seen something similar to this in the gameplay trailer!

i didn’t actually think it was a giant fucking GUN tho. can we get an F in chat for Promethea and/or whatever else this thing gets aimed at

yooo

i thought this was opportunity at first cuz of the bridge but it’s more likely promethea

when u go meet zer0 you can see some water surrounding the city so i would guess this is somewhere else on promethea

im mostly interested in the giant fuckin triangle in the middle of that courtyard looking area

oh also the giant trench of destruction on the right there. that’s probably important, too.

more concept art!

i think the bottom of the 4 VHs is actually what was leaked in january.

some art of the twins on the left there, tyreen is so much shorter than troy omfg

and this does indeed looks to be a younger version of angel so credit to @prettypinkdork for mentioning that on my angel post. it is nice to see those tech-y wings in action, definitely does prove it’s her.

we can also see this art of what i think is Punk Girl, which is interesting to me because she looks to be doing something with her right hand. possible siren powers? maybe! 

we also get a much cooler, bigger version of that maliwan ship people were talking about, with what look to be maliwan... eye bots? surrounding it. this is soooo fuckin awesome to me because it reminds me of a sailboat. and airships are fucking COOL

but something interesting is that i don’t think this ship was actually always maliwan

we got an A in the back here... for Atlas? i mean... you know it’s coming... the colors would match up. Yeahhhhhhh...

more interesting is that it actually looks like maliwan covered it up with their flags/tarps. i would not be surprised if this was claimed by maliwan possibly during the takeover.

a cyclone, with a whole fuckin lot of detail. just... holy shit.

not much else to say here though. i like the stuffed animal on the side, though

a better shot of jakobs manor which holy shit looks badass as fuck

big turret/observation thing on the right there? im not sure

pretty sure this is eden-6. also more tropical trees? possibly a water planet? but maybe just ocean on eden-6. also there seems to be like webbing on whatever is on the road, so maybe some spider-like wildlife?

most important to me is this

yeah i would bet that’s eridium/slag/the chemical sludge from elpis

im pretty convinced this is something on elpis mostly because the DAHL logo on the side. which again, they were on pandora yes but they were mining for iridium not eridium. if this was pandoran pumping stations, that would be hyperion.

i do think this is elpis. and i do think the twins are using the chemical sludge that mutated the lost legion into those fake siren things to give their followers superpowers.”holy holy holy” indeed.

this, plus the rakk wings on the psycho in the mask of mayhem are just convincing me more and more

that’s all for now folks. i gotta run

[smolfangirl]

Cómo te pido

Based on the song and mv for “Cristina” by Sebastián Yatra, and some of my own experiences. I hope you enjoy this ♥

Word count: 5.8k

///

Entre tanta gente yo te vi llegar

Algo en el destino me hizo saludar

///

One day off. One single day of getting lost in the city, not found by anyone except himself. That’s all he wants, craves, after weeks and weeks of being praised as someone who exists solely in the minds of the media and his fans.

One day, and he couldn’t even get that.

It starts with some teenagers chilling on the staircase to the metro, asking for pics, and soon they’ll be all over Instagram and a group of paparazzi and reporters will follow him – Matteo knows the deal. The business.

And frankly, he’s tired of it.

///

The moment he steps into the bar, he wonders if this was the right decision. The air feels hot in his lungs, the smell of cigarettes and cheap beer burns in his nose, while his eyes struggle to find the barkeeper in the crowd blocking the counter. He pulls the hood of his sweatshirt deeper into his face before he slowly makes his way to the bar.

No one looks at him for more than just a second.

///

She’s looking at him.

The stage light creates the illusion of a halo around her, and she’s looking at him with a smile so bright and honest, he can’t tear his gaze away from her. At first, he feared she recognized him, saw through his terrible disguise, but the longer he watches her, the more he relaxes. During his career, he’s seen hundred versions of people spotting him and freaking out. That girl is not one of them.

So, he winks back at her.

///

Her voice sounds as sweet and golden as on the stage, like honey that’s sticking to his soul instead of his fingers. She appears next to him out of nowhere, asking if the seat is taken as she already casually jumps on it. With a chuckle, he replies that he won’t ask her to leave, and the moment she directs another smile at him, the burden of being a superstar whirls off his shoulders.

“Do you usually arrive only to see the last performance of the night?” she asks, head tilted. Her hair falls freely over her shoulder, a tangled mess that somehow frames her face perfectly.

Grimacing, he reaches for his drink. The wine still tastes like a grape took a piss in his glass, although that detail is forgotten the instant he figures out what to answer. “No, but usually, the last performance isn’t worth paying attention to.”

“You’ve never been here before.”

“And you’ve never had a drink with someone as cool as me.”

That makes her laugh. He feels pride rushing through his veins, like when his music makes someone happy or when his mom looks at him with tears in her eyes after watching a performance from him.

She leans closer. “Technically, I’m not having a drink right now.”

The smile on his face never leaves, only deepens. “Then it’s about time we change that.”

///

At some point after midnight, long after his phone ran out of battery, the barkeeper releases a heavy sigh and asks them to leave. They’re the only ones left in the entire room.

At the exit, he stops. Glances over his shoulder, at this place he’d never expect to find (or look for). For a few hours, he had a safe haven, away from fans, flashing cameras and obnoxious voices chanting his name. It was worth the stifling air, the hint of vomit out of the toilets, the headache the cheap wine will give him in the morning. Whatever happened tonight will end too soon, even when he’s not ready to give it up just yet.

“You okay?” Luna’s hand lingers on his arm, gently guides him back to reality, where her last laugh still echoes through the bar.

Upon facing her, he discovers a frown on her face. “Yeah, sure. Just wanted to make sure I left nothing behind.”

“Okay.”

The air leaking inside from the entrance hits him with all its coldness, reminding him of what kind of world he’s returning to.

Silencing the sigh rooted in his chest, Matteo hides in his hoodie again. “Okay, let’s go.”

She holds him back. Lets her hand hush over his cheeks, carefully tugging the fabric until the hood falls on his back. “You shouldn’t hide such a beautiful face.”

His breath hitches. Eventually, he whispers back, “You can never be too careful in a city like this.”

“I keep wondering if you’re new around here, you know?”

That’s the curse of being a star, he thinks. He’s not new to this city – or any other – yet knows nothing that exists outside of his hotel and the venue. And with Luna, everything feels new altogether.

“I am.”

She smiles, again, and if every camera in the world had only one picture left, that’s what he’d photograph. “I can show you around then, if you’d like.”

///

Y empecé mis planes para vernos otra vez

///

“You want me to put skates on my feet?” Half protesting, half questioning her, his mind already paints vivid pictures of him in an emergency room, sitting in a wheelchair with one leg and two arms broken, as his manager yells at him.

“What did you think the helmets were for?”

“I don’t know, something less dangerous? Cycling, maybe?”

“Are you trying to tell me you never skated before?”

Matteo sighs, rubbing his arm. “I used to. As a kid.” In the street where his grandparents used to live, back in Italy. Some part of his body always carried a scratch or a bruise during those summer days, he remembers ending up on the ground a lot, and the band-aids his mom used to ease the pain. (With funny little fruits on them.)

Luna dangles her boots in front of him with a smile that sends his heart into overdrive. “Then this will be even more fun.”

“Luna…” His heartbeat picks up at the mere idea of falling. When he was younger, he felt invincible enough to risk it, but looking at her, at the skates, he feels like his whole body is made of glass.

“I’ll hold your hand the entire time.”

Maybe he won’t fall.

///

He can’t remember the last time it’s been so dark around him. On the street, cameras blind him even through his sunglasses. At home, his phone never gives him a rest, blinking for every message, every notification that comes in. Even in the bar they met in light leaked behind closed doors, from the stage or as a broken reflection from a cocktail glass. His whole world is bright and open and cruel – there’s no shadow to make one wrong move in.

Here, everything is dark and soft and honest. When he glimpses behind the curtain, he can see the stars sprinkled over the sky. Next to him, Luna is dozing off, the silver moon light dancing on her cheekbone. He can hear the beat of his own heart, calm and steady in a rhythm it hasn’t found in years.

Just as he closes his eyes, Luna shifts on the mattress until he feels her gaze settle on him. “I can’t believe I’m doing this”, she whispers.

“What, camping?”

“Going on a road trip with someone I barely know. You could be an axe murderer.”

Or worse, a popstar who could get you on the front cover of every gossip magazine you ever heard of. Out loud, he chuckles. “Damn, you caught me. How will you fall asleep now that you discovered my darkest secret?”

She tries to slap him on his arm only to hit his blanket, and he keeps her fingers locked and secure in his own hands. “You know what, Luna, you put up too much of a fight. I’m gonna have mercy on you.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re freezing.”

Her voice grows softer, shy almost. “The blanket’s not very warm.”

For a moment, they fall quiet. The wind creates a melody in the tree tops, plays with the leaves like a five-year old chasing a ball, and Matteo thinks about the bottom drawer in his mom’s kitchen, the one that doesn’t close completely, because of this one pot that’s a millimeter too big. He thinks about the empty jars his mom keeps in there for her strawberry marmalade, and how he wants to store this feeling in them, forever. This moment, this peace, won’t last, but perhaps he could lock it away, remember it, completely: the wind outside, the muffled rustling from his blanket as he robs closer to her. How her body curves against his like she’s a matching puzzle piece.

How he falls asleep, wondering if all these coincidences that lead him here are just his destiny in disguise.

///

He’s been to many beaches. Beaches in Italy during his childhood, where he mostly cared about how good the sand would build up to castles. Beaches on vacations, where he was surrounded with people who didn’t wish to be bothered by anyone, just like him. Once or twice he performed at a beach festival. He got his skin burned, got tanned. Went swimming and snorkeling and hired jet skis to cruise on the ocean.

He never just stood and watched.

“What a view, huh?”

Next to him, Luna stands in the breeze, eyes half closed as she wears this smile again that could replace the sun. Her dress softly flaps around her legs, and the wind plays with her hair. Yeah, what a view.

“I wonder if there’s a way to get down there,” he says out loud.

Grimacing, she glances down the cliff separating them from the ocean. “Unless you wanna jump down there, I don’t think so.”

“That’s a shame.”

“There’ll be other beaches, you know. That we can actually go to.” Her fingers dance over his arms, the silent encouragement only contradicted by the soft laugh that follows. Goosebumps run over his skin, his stomach ties itself into a knot, but Matteo can’t quite fathom a smile. As long as they’re alone, his mind is too full of her and the rush of emotions she brings along like a fresh breath of air after sitting in the studio all day. But she’ll say something like this, reminding him that there’s more out there, people and social media and another life for him, and his chest tenses until he’s almost suffocating.

Luna has no clue, of course. She doesn’t know better, so she lets him discover her, lets him read through her past and thoughts and feelings like it’s nothing more than a sweet novel to get lost in during vacations. And he knows better, so he turns page after page, trying to memorize the lines, the ticking clock a constant noise in the back of his mind.

The more he gets to know her, the more he dreads going back to the spotlight. (The more he falls for her, too.)

“Let me take a picture of you. With this beach, okay?” he begs her. The dimple on her cheek deepens as she carefully places her camera in his hand. Her touch still lingers on his palm when he snaps the first picture, and he can’t hurry enough to capture the softness in her gaze, or the brightness in her smile. He hasn’t grown tired of admiring her, and with the camera in his hands, he finally allows himself to keep more than just a fond memory. If a few pictures are going to be the only thing left when reality catches him in its iron fist again, he’ll hold onto every tiny snippet of them.

///

Luna takes pictures of him, too. On that cliff, in front of the crystal-clear sky which is only outdone by the shimmering blue of the ocean. In a small town when they wander through the streets and follow graffities bursting with color. When they stumble upon the kid bringing the grey walls to life with his spray cans, and he poses with him as if they were best friends. When she invites him for ice cream and a hungry seagull steals his cone directly out of his hand.

Every night after dawn, she cuddles up to him in the campervan to show him her favorite pictures.

Once, she’s fast asleep next to him, he scrolls through his phone to the file with the pictures from photoshoots and magazine covers. The Matteo in there smiles too, but it isn’t real. Luna brings out the smile in his eyes, and in the picture he’s staring at, the curve on his lips is plastered on like the make-up on his forehead. For his work, he acts like a mannequin, nothing more than a prop to polish someone’s Instagram page and give his fans the illusion of knowing him.

In Luna’s pictures, he’s happy. Silly even, if he wants to. When she focuses her camera on him, there’s no expectation in the little click of the lens, so he lets go and smiles because one look from her pulls the corners of his mouth up. Sometimes she pulls a grimace at him that he copies, and sometimes, he leans down to kiss her cheek right before she takes a selfie.

He hopes that when this is over, she’ll look at these little moments, knowing she unlocked a side of him no one else saw before.

///

Recuerdo todo lo que te gustaba

Y tu camisa que llega a los pies

Esa carita cuando te cantaba por primera vez

///

Her phone died. In the middle of the song, two seconds away from her favorite part, and he expects the pout on her face before he tears his gaze away from the street. Before he met her, he never even heard of the band, too busy with his own music. Now, his fingers tap the melody on the steering wheel with ease, and he finishes the song so naturally like the words were tattooed into his veins. It’s not until he falls silent again that he glimpses over to her.

Tears glisten in her eyes.

“You have a beautiful voice,” she whispers.

“Thanks,” he replies, smiling to himself. (After signing his first contract, he never thought these words could mean so much again.)

“I mean it. I can totally see you becoming a singer or something. Hey, maybe I could ask Simón if he’d be up for a collaboration, or…” Her enthusiasm intensifies with every word she rambles, but it’s not contagious this time, not when his mind already paints a new picture of the worst case. She probably knows her best friend’s phone number by heart, and she’ll sneak his phone out of his pocket to call him, and he’ll know more about a certain Matteo Balsano than she imagines, so she’ll find out who he is (or who everyone else knows him as) and hate him and he’ll have to let her go, and he’s not ready for that.

“Matteo?” Her voice snaps him back to reality. “Are you okay?”

Is he? His knuckles turned white as he’s driving, and he clenches his teeth so hard that his jaw hurts. “Um, sure, yeah. I’m fine. I just don’t think I’m the type for a boy band.”

The frown on her forehead tells him he seriously needs to work on his white lies. But before she gets to needle him with more questions, Matteo gives her his most charming smile and asks, “Are you in for a duet though? Like, right now?”

A few minutes later he thinks that no professionally recorded and produced duet could ever live up to the harmony that is her voice melting into his.

///

Y si pudiera mostrarte

Que estando juntos ya no hay nada que falte

///

She asked him to pull over, again. The coastal view tempted her too much, and she’s sorry and hiding behind her open hair, even when he’s coming to a stop without as much as raising an eyebrow. Leaning against the van, Matteo watches her standing in the breeze, arms wide open, a huge smile on her face. One glance over her shoulder, and he’s by her side. She raises an eyebrow at him, more a challenge than a question, so he smirks and twirls her around until a laugh pearls over her lips. Bumping into his chest, Luna is still giggling, still making his heart feel like a race car that’s cruising his ribcage. With her arms around his neck, she pulls him into a dance along to the rhythm of their heartbeats. (A scene just like a music video, he thinks, except that it’s real.)

She takes the lead. Whirls him around just like he did, fuels him with every look out of her dazzling green eyes. There’s the thought of kissing her, again. A part of him already suspects that he’ll never stop writing songs about her once his lips get to know hers, but this urge never burned him so fast from the inside.

This time, he won’t fight it.

Matteo allows himself to give in, every move is now aimed to get him closer to her, every breath he takes hopes to be shared with her, and he’s falling, falling, falling.

They’re slow dancing now. Her face is hidden in his chest, both arms wrapped around him as if he’s her favorite stuffed animal. The sun creates the illusion of diamonds on her hair, and he feels endlessly torn between soaking up this pure moment, and finally pressing his mouth on hers. Her fingers sneak over his shirt, caress him light as a feather. Matteo is done, defeated, desperate, as her name slips out in nothing more than a whisper.

Their eyes meet.

He leans in.

Thunder growls above them.

Her, ducking away. Pulling him along, towards the van. The moment he blinks up at the sky to the dark clouds sneaking in, she hastily explains, “I think we need to leave now.” He stumbles behind her, speechless. (Because all he feels is her hand intertwined with his fingers.)

///

They don’t talk while Matteo is driving. He’s focused on the road, and the rain clatters on the windscreen too loudly anyway, killing any hope for a conversation. Luna tried to ask him if driving in this weather was a good idea, but the noise swallowed her voice, so she gave up. Now she’s staring into the angry sky outside, pretending she’s not tempted to sneak another glimpse at him, and then another.

Her mind is overflowing with things left unsaid, with confessions and too many questions. He wanted to kiss her, she’s pretty sure about that. And he might still want to kiss her.

Everything else, though, remains a mystery.

How can she be sure she knows him at all, anyway? A book in a foreign language wouldn’t be as hard to decipher as he is. He never mentions his everyday life, or his job. The one time she asked, he said he worked in the entertainment industry, and then he changed the topic. He talks about his childhood, but never his presence. She still doesn’t know why he refused to leave the back of the van three days ago, when she refueled the van and got some snacks in a small city by the coast. Maybe he’s just weird, maybe he’s hiding something, an ex who he’s not keen on running into, or something worse. Maybe she doesn’t want to know.

But these doubts never linger in her mind long enough. Because their eyes meet or he gets her without a single look, or they laugh for ten minutes straight about the same dumb joke, or he smiles at her so gently it takes her breath away. Like right now, as he catches her glare and in an instant, her mouth runs dry.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” A bold lie. She’s thinking about a lot of things, like how soft his lips look, or how her stomach feels like it might burst and how she wants to be close to him for the rest of her life.

And how he better kiss her soon, because otherwise she definitely will.

///

They end up stranded in the middle of nowhere.

The storm rages on, too harsh for them to keep going, and now they’re in bed, listening to the wind howling. Lightning crushes down somewhere close to the van, for a moment, everything is silver and bright and scary. Then, darkness returns. With a shaky breath, Luna pulls her blanket closer.

“Are you okay?” Matteo whispers. The mattress gives in to his weight as he shifts around, before his hand finds her clenched fist underneath the thin fabric. “You’re cold.”

“You’re hot.”

“May I?”

Her reply, “Sure”, already dies on her tongue. He must have heard it anyway, because he robs closer until she’s in his arms, surrounded by his warmth and his scent and the daydream of his lips on hers. “Thank you,” she says, turning to what she hopes is the outline of his face in the dark.

Lightning, again.

He’s close, closer than she expected. His breath hovers over her face. The memory of this afternoon flickers through her mind, the anticipation that built up ever since they sat in that little bar, the tension in the air when they glimpse at each other at the same time and –

Finally, Matteo kisses her.

///

Solo tienes que saber

Que yo quisiera quedarme

///

Sunlight caresses her cheek. Matteo is feeding her grapes, piece after piece, as he snuggles up to her left side until her blanket becomes kind of redundant. The morning is nothing like last night, quiet and soft, the early sky a canvas of pastels.

“Do you think we can go to the beach today?”

“If we find one, sure.” He nips on his coffee cup, the grapes now out of her reach, then pats over the blanket, probably in search for his phone.

“How come you keep looking for the same things every morning?”

“I don’t know, I swear it was just right here… ah, got it!” A frown finds its way on his forehead while he begins to type. Then, a soft groan, followed by more typing.

She nudges him with her shoulder. “Let me guess, you’re still trying to find a beach where it’s just us?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with any beach either.”

“Why don’t you just…” He falls silent, gaze suddenly stuck on the screen. The wrinkle above his eyes deepens. His thumb lingers in the air, frozen.

“Why don’t I just what?” Luna asks, her hand finally getting a hold on the grapes, so she at least has something to do.

The sigh he replies with doesn’t exactly promise good news. “I got a text message from work and… seems like they need me back soon.”

Her eyes flutter shut. She thinks of last night, of the dawn, when the first thing she felt upon waking up was his arm loosely wrapped around her, and the second thing his lips greeting her. She thinks of sitting on the beach, a golden sunset in front of them as she steals a kiss from him, safe in his arms. She thinks of the deadlines and unwritten reports and papers waiting for her at home. “How soon?”

“A few days. A week, if I really push it.”

“We’d have to drop off the van early.”

“I don’t want to. I’d rather stay here. With you.” With one hand, Matteo pushes a strand that escaped her ponytail overnight behind her ear. His words hit her straight in her chest, from where a thousand butterflies escape into her bloodstream. “And why can’t you?” she whispers.

“I can’t just… quit. I’m too important there.”

Chuckling, Luna hides her face in his shoulder. When he asks her what’s wrong, she glances up at him, grinning only harder. “You are such a chico fresa, Matteo,” she explains, and the confusion sticks on his face even after she tucks a grape behind his sweet lips.

///

The ocean underneath her feet. The smell of sunscreen lingering in her nose. His smile around her, more constant than the sun in the sky. Her, trailing after him like she’s indeed a silver rocket in the universe and he’s her earth.

For an instant, Luna ponders about this moment, certain she’ll miss it at some point later. But then, he makes her laugh again and all that matters is now.

///

No sé cómo te pido que te enamores

Cuando al final no voy a estar cuando tu llores

(Cuando de ti me enamoré)

///

“Oh my god, guys, that’s Matteo Balsano!” Half a scream, half a whisper. It’s too soon for him to be pulled back into his superstar life, but too late to escape it – that life, his fans, and the realization dawning upon Luna.

“Matteo! Can we take a picture?” Louder. Flashlights. A forced smile on his lips.

“Can you sign this? For Kaylee?”

“Can I have a photo too?” Three phones all up in his face. Four. “I can’t believe we’re running into the Matteo Balsano, just like that!”

Hands, trying to touch whatever is closest to them, trying to nudge him away from where he wants to be. “Why did you disappear for two weeks?”

Luna, gone from his side.

///

Time moves too slowly. She needs answers, explanations. Now. He’s still standing at the other side of the street, those girls stuck to him like fruit flies trapped in honey. She wants them gone, and she wants to be home already, in the silent comfort of her room.

Time moves too quickly. She needs space, something familiar. Her brain is still catching up on what happened, and she’s only halfway through his Wikipedia page. She wants to wake up in bed so this can just be a dream, and she wants yesterday back, with the soft embrace of his arms.

Time moves on. He’s walking towards the van. His face disappears under the hood of his sweater, and she feels like a paparazzi watching him, his every move.

All at once, he’s a stranger to her.

///

“Why?”

“I’m so sorry, Luna.”

She huffs. The sun hits her directly through the windscreen, yet her cheeks heat up for a whole other reason.

“This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

Her gaze fixates on the view outside, the house fronts and parked cars. It’s motionless, not even a breeze softly ruffling through the palm trees. Inside her, everything seems to be moving and stirring. “And how was I supposed to find out? Never?”

If making him speechless is an accomplishment, it doesn’t feel like one. After seconds or minutes or whatever excruciating amount of silence it equals on the clock, he sighs. “Do you know how hard it is to find someone who doesn’t treat you like some kind of god? You made me feel… when I’m with you, I’m different. Someone…”

“Normal?” Bitterness leaks out of her tone, and it poisons her heart. “That sounds terrible, Matteo. And I’m not going to pity you.”

“Happy,” he replies. “I wanted to say that you made me feel like someone happy.”

You made me feel happy too. Those words don’t cross her lips, though. Instead, she turns on the engine and starts driving. (Away from the place where her heart broke, but not away from him.) Taking a shaky breath, he opens his mouth but before he says anything else, Luna drowns his voice with the first radio station she finds. After two minutes, the host announces one of his songs.

She almost smashes the radio with her fist.

///

All day, she waits for dawn to come, for the darkness to match her mood. An hour into driving, Matteo quietly asks her to stop by one of the beaches to their left. She follows him in a safe distance as he watches the ocean. There’s no smile on his face, just a wrinkle on his forehead. Her phone weighs heavy in her pocket, tempting her to snap a picture of him like all the days before. But she no longer feels like she has the right to take a photo of him, which shouldn’t add to her misery this much.

So, now she’s aching for the night to hide him from her eyes.

///

His eyes flutter open in the darkness. The blanket is tangled between his legs, and he feels some part of Luna bumping into him. His heart clenches at the memory of her silence today, or the looks she sent him. He doesn’t know what he expected, only that he hoped, with a little luck, that she’d stay in his life.

There’s no such faith anymore.

Her touch startles him. Slowly, her fingertips draw patterns on his arm, and Matteo isn’t sure if he’s dreaming. “Luna?” he whispers into the silence.

Her hand stops moving, but it stays frozen where it was, which is everything he needs to hope again. “What are we gonna do?” she finally says.

His heart skips a beat, only to riot harder than ever before in his chest. “I don’t know,” he admits, unsure. “I can’t escape this, you know? People will recognize me wherever I go, whether I like it or not. That’s just a part of my life.”

“So, after this, I’ll never see you again?”

He closes his eyes. Sighs. “Would that be a good thing for you?”

Luna hesitates, he can feel it in her fingertips leaving his skin, in the breath she’s holding. Every second in which she keeps him hanging on to the last thread of hope hurts. All he wants is to pull her back into his arms, back to a time where it was just him and her, and reality got no hold on them. And he feels stupid for believing any of this could have lasted.

“No. It wouldn’t.”

Luna buries her head in his shoulder. A sob pearls over her lips, and out of words, he presses a kiss on her hair. “But I can’t do this,” she adds before she rolls over to her side of the bed and shatters his heart into pieces, just like he must’ve earlier.

When he finds his words again, he whispers “I’m sorry I can’t stay”, but she seems to already be asleep.

///

Este amor ya no es mío

///

He’s watching the van being driven away by one of the employees. The sun is setting behind the rental office, sealing the end of his little run from real life. Turning around, his eyes land on Luna, wo’s holding on to her bags as if her life depended on it.

“So, this is it,” he concludes.

She returns his gaze, and the tears shimmering in them feel like a knife to his chest. “I guess.”

“Maybe we could…”  

“Matteo, no.” It sounds as if he’s torturing her, as if nothing brought her more pain than the mere chance to see him again. (If only he knew how to make her smile again…) “We can’t. You know this wouldn’t work.”

With that, she leaves him.

///

Sé que la vida se pasa pero no pasa contigo

///

The next months bring her a lot of opportunities to cry. His new single that her roommate plays on repeat for hours, unaware that the Luna in his song is the same one yelling at her to use headphones. The music video for said single, where he replaces her with a girl who looks nothing like her. His new album, titled Chico Fresa out of all things, and every song that speaks to her. Every single time her thumb hovers over his contact in her phone, until she remembers why she refuses to see him again.

But she learns to stop asking herself “What if”, to stop torturing herself with daydream after daydream. She learns to ignore his voice on the radio and the gossip on the internet. She learns to sleep alone again and get mad enough at him for his lies and songs and calls to move on with her life.

And then she walks into the skating rink on her birthday to a package with her name scribbled on it, inside brand-new skates in the colors of a sunset, along with a card signed by him.

After that, she can’t pretend anymore that she hates him.

///

No tengo la certeza de volverte a ver

Recuérdame

///

The beach in Cancún hasn’t changed. The palm trees along the way, offering some shadow in the merciless midday sun, the scent of salt and sunscreen in the air. The pathway along the ocean she led him to, with her hand in his, which often enough was the only reason his ass didn’t kiss the ground.

Matteo, however, has changed. He has grown, as a person, as a songwriter. Even as a skater – he doesn’t need anyone’s hand anymore in order to keep his balance.

Still, he keeps thinking about her.

Especially here in Mexico, where a year ago, he kissed her, and she claimed his heart only to walk away with it. He wonders what she’s up to, which skating competition she’s training for right now, and if her studies are going well. If there’s someone else, someone new in her life. Someone who isn’t followed by ecstatic fans and paparazzi.

His mind always stumbles over this idea, sooner or later. Not that it’s any of his business. He just wants her to be happy, that’s all. (Is it wrong if he wants her to be happy with him?) And who can blame him when sometimes, missing her overwhelms him, and he can’t stop thinking about what ifs – what if he gave up his career? What if he insisted on seeing her again just a little bit more?

It’s a dangerous path to walk on, and never a gleeful one. So, every time it gets too much to bear, he goes skating.

It’s a routine by now. Matteo puts on his helmet and sunglasses, then his boots. He never goes fast, simply cruising up and down the beach while painting pictures in his head, of her by his side. He imagines her whirling around in pirouettes, jumping and showing off all the tricks he doesn’t dare to try. He imagines the sun adding a soft shimmer to her hair, and her laugh ringing in his ears as he recites the lyrics of the last song he wrote for her. About her. He imagines that he’ll never has to write another song about the moon, because he gets to tell her everything in person.

Her laugh, again.

First, he wonders how clear his memory makes it sound in his ears. Then, he realizes it’s not just an imagination anymore, because Luna is here, for real, a mere hundred meters away. Wearing his skates.

In that moment he knows he’ll have to write another song for her.

[lokilickedme]

Okay so I promised a bunch of pics from ScotFest 2018, and I’ve been stuck posting from my phone for the last two days so - sorry for the delay, but here we go with the good stuff.  It’s long, but stay with me, you’re gonna enjoy this mad trip.

First, let me say this.

FUUUUUCCCCCCCKK.  I knew I was gonna be having McClary flashbacks the whole time but it started out ridiculous and just got worse as the day went on.

The moment we pulled up the first thing that stepped into view was a dude in an anarchy tee shirt with a kilt and Docs and long black hair strutting down the sidewalk.  If Chem!Tom was Scottish...oh wait a sec, didn’t he say at some point that he was a bit, on his mother’s side?  Works for me.  So anyway, we arrive at ScotFest and walk the long way to the shuttle bus pick-up with a bunch of kilted guys and an elderly couple dressed in ancient clan clothing (they looked awesome).  And before we even get off the bus at the festival grounds, we’re blasted with bagpipe music as a full regalia marching pipe band parades past the entrance.  Something smells REALLY.GOOD. and off to the left of the entrance is a field where two Mol-pups are chasing sheep around while their shepherd whistles commands loud enough to split your head open.  Yep, McClary flashbacks, right off the bat.  And big Scottish athletes are throwing things that don’t look like they were meant to be thrown, though the biggest and most impressive athletes on the field are the females who are using pitchforks to hurl big bags of sand backwards over their shoulders over a bar that’s about 20 feet above their heads.  Big is looking at me like “What the hell, mom??” so I tell him the ancient Scots were farmers and they made games and competitions out of their farm chores.  He’s like “No, I mean why are you breathing so hard?”

No comment.  Did I mention that the females were really impressive?  Good start to the day.

So we move on past the games into the main festival area and everywhere are man-knees.  I’ve never really paid much attention to man-knees before, but to be honest they’re kinda...hot.  I don’t even know why.  And there were so many of them...hundreds and hundreds of man-knees on open display, it’s almost like I shouldn’t be looking but they’re RIGHT THERE all over the damn place and I feel like a pervert scamming peeks.  And calves.  Man calves.  Not normally a fan, but there were some good ones on display.

The first thing we did was hit the tribal music tent and it was over for me before it even got good and started...because on the stage inside the tribal music tent was THIS Scottish god:

Don’t worry, the picture quality will get better.  So we settle in to enjoy the music and this guy is eating up the stage and spanking the shit out of that drum, and then he starts blowing on a flippin’ didgeridoo (yeah, a nine foot long Australian horn, don’t ask me why but omg that man’s lung power was making the ground rumble under our feet and all I could think was how that skill might carry over, if you know what I mean).

Suddenly I’m really interested in nine foot horns.

A really cool thing about hitting the afternoon shows was the fact that you could go right up to the side of the stage and nobody cared.  So I did.

Physically painful, let me tell ya.  I could just almost look up his skirt.

That horn is vibrating the ground where I’m standing and I’m actually relieved when he switches back to the drum because all that vibration has shifted my panties about two inches to the left and it’s getting uncomfortable.  The drum isn’t much better though, and neither is the view from where I’m standing - he’s a big stout bull and I’m three feet away from him while he beats that drum to a whimpering death.  I could reach out and tickle his bare knee if I felt like getting divorced.

So I go back and sit with my guys again and he starts doing this:

KNEES.  I mentioned man-knees before, didn’t I?  Well here, have a pair.  I’ll post a video later of what he did to this poor little drum, and to his own thick neck - because I can’t even describe it, and you know words are my thing.  He played his freaking adam’s apple or something, I don’t even know.

There were actually two other musicians on the stage with him, but I sort of forgot they were there.

There were also lots of adorable father/son kilted combos present - and yep, a bagpiper rounds out the onstage trio.  But again...man knees.  The ones on the left specifically.

So the show ends after a lot of insane drumming, war cries, didgeridoo blowing, bagpiping, and a really nasty little ditty about a girl who’s been touched so much she’s smooth as a stairway bannister (followed by an anthem to an unhealthy relationship that proclaimed “I’d rather be drunk a thousand years than be sober one minute with you”).  Nice, guys.

As soon as their set is over we leave the tent to go wander around, but most everyone else stays because it is as hot as the freaking surface of the sun on this day and the tent is like an oasis on Mars - which means when the band comes out to let the next band hit the stage, we’re pretty much alone outside with the bull and his two stagemates (sorry backup drummer and bagpiper, you guys were awesome and I loved you but didgeridoo guy vibrated my panties two inches to the left, you know how it is).

Anyway, we’re outside at the merch tent and Husband is buying something and I look up and nearly slam bodily into this:

Drummer/didgeridoo guy.  I vaguely recall yelling to Husband during the deafening noise of the show that he looked like Aquaman, and when I end up face to face with him it’s confirmed.  I think it’s the cranky eyebrow.

I also get to ogle the piper’s bagpipes up close and personal, which was hard to do as didgeridoo guy - whose name is CJ - is standing right behind me while I ooh and ahh over this weird thing, and he’s laughing at me for reasons unknown:

Maybe it was the stupid comment I made about squeezing the bag?

And then the three of them pose for a pic:

Goobers.  At this point Little walks up to them and they all sort of huddle around him and start laughing (Little has light-blindness and has to wear special shades outside so he was half blind and I think he rammed right into the guy with the hat), so I hand my phone to Husband and go to get him.  When I get close, didgeridoo guy puts an arm the size of a tree trunk around me and hugs me up next to him while the other two are tickling Little.  Husband starts snapping pics with my phone, but no, I’m not sharing them because 1) my face, 2) Little’s face, 3) shellshock at being touched by this stud ox without having initiated it myself, and 4) the look on my face clearly says MY PANTIES ARE CROOKED AND HIS SWEAT IS SOAKING THROUGH MY SHIRT AND PHEROMONES PEOPLE OMG PHEROMONES I’M IN PAIN HELP I MAY BE PREGNANT

Yeah, he was drenched in sweat from jumping all over that damn stage schlepping a drum that probably weighed more than me.  My hand was on his back and it came away soaked.  You can consider that a euphemism if you want, it works both ways.

Also - red boots.  Urgh.  And then he goes like this:

Boy was solid as a whiskey barrel, let me tell you.  We came back later to listen to another band and he was out there again, and the girls from the face painting tent had lured him over and braided his hair.  He looked flippin cute.  And by cute I mean Jesus Wept.

So before this turns into an exclusive didgeridoo guy fest (too late, yeah I know) let’s move along to this fine specimen that I found at the blacksmith tent:

Ladies and gentlemen, meet King McClary’s work kilt.

Dude was nice from the front too:

Definitely an Auchinleck, for those of you familiar with The McClary Chronicles.  Check out the tattoo.  And he was making maille battle armor, which I got to touch.  It didn’t shift my panties quite as hard as the drums did, but there was definitely a quiver.

This guy was at the tent next door to the armor tent, making I dunno, bong pipes or something and he was hilarious:

And then there was this guy, listening to ballads in the historical folk music tent and looking all angsty and authentic, like his love just died of a fever and his crop failed so he joined a ships’ crew to find his fortune in a faraway land but the damn boat sank fifteen feet from shore and now he’s just fucking stuck in Scotland and contemplating becoming a villain:

And he was glaring at my child, I don’t know why.  Prissy prick.  I was hoping to see his dick but he was so anal he tucked his kilt under his ass from the front.  Definitely a villain.

After a couple of teary ballads about wailing winds and failed crops or whatever, I dunno, I wasn’t listening because I was too involved in trying to see Prissy Prick’s ballsack, we wander over to the Highland Dance competition and walk in on this:

We’re in there for all of about twelve seconds before Big starts giggling, then Little starts giggling, then I start giggling.  We promptly leave the Highland Dance competition tent, because these girls really worked hard and I don’t want to get arrested for being a dick.

We go watch the Mol-pups chase the sheep around, because nobody cares if you disrupt the proceedings in the middle of a field full of sheep.

And then we watch some more of the Highland Games, in which guys threw stuff while making the best faces I’ve seen since that time Husband wanted to try setting the mirror next to the bed:

Yeah, we giggled.

After that we went back to listen to some more music, because damn.  Scottish rock is da bomb.  Heard a punk band that Husband immediately fell in love with, so I guess we’re evensies on the lusting after Scottish musicians thing now:

Dude on the bagpipes grinned like that through the whole set, I think he was puffing something out of one of those tubes.

And then we walked out into the big freaking middle of about four billion of these:

Noisy effers.  And they don’t stop for anybody - we literally had to jump out of the way because when they paused in front of us, they went into this formation thing and backed up right into where we were standing.  Had to grab Little and yank him up off the ground before he was trampled by some dude wearing a dress and giving an octopus a blow job.

Turned to look at a woman sitting next to us a little later and watched her pull a dagger out of her sock and shine it on her kilt like she was getting ready to go assassinate someone in the crowd.  We left soon after, so I didn’t get to see it go down.  I hope it wasn’t the didgeridoo player, he was cute AF.

All in all it was an 11/12 day, marred only by the outrageous heat and the fact that I’ve been off my supplements and medications for a week in prep for surgery on Tuesday, so I was exhausted and my blood’s gone back to being water again.  We didn’t stay as long as we would have otherwise, but we had fun and experienced a lot of weirdness - I ate haggis on accident, Husband sat down with a plate and I thought it was meatloaf (it was good and I didn’t die, so bonus) - and I got to spend the day surrounded by all the clans that tried to assassinate Thomas The Fucking Marauder.

We’ll be going again next year.  Husband is a descendant of one of the border clans, so he’s heavy into this...and of course you all know what my connection is to it :)

Let me leave you with a picture of a guy about to bullrush a scarecrow.  I don’t know why, I didn’t ask.  Scotland’s weird, ya’ll.

[accidentally-starstruck]

🎤Rock star AU🎶 || PRIVATE RP for @singing-ina-cage

“...Red grim?” Sage asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked at the flyer in her hand, a band promotion flyer. There were four band members in the back, the lead singer in front covering most of his face with his hand dramatically (though it didn’t matter as he was wearing a mask with some cliché horror design painted on it) One of the masks eyes glowing red. He had long, pin straight, black hair, the tips a blood red. There was no ‘backround’ to the picture just dark lightning with red fog all around them; each member having a gothic but...questionable fashion sense. Their band name, ‘Red Grim’ lied at the bottom of the poster in harsh pointed font, the dot in the ‘i’ a small skull.

“Yeah! They’ve been out for a while, aren’t they cool?!” Darcy responded, looking at the road as she held the wheel; Sage kept eyeing the flyer a moment but eventually looked away, gazing up at Darcy.

“...How long have you been into them?” She asked, trying to change the ‘cool’ subject.

“Darcys been obsessed with them since they came out a few years ago” Natalie responded from the passenger seat then continued to scroll through her Facebook feed.

“I really have” Darcy admitted proudly. “They’ve gained so much popularity in just five years” Darcy added.

“They’re really not that great” Natalie said not looking up.

“Natalie!” Darcy and Talia said loudly in unison, sharply turning toward Natalie, clearly miffed. Sage put her hand up a bit looking panicked seeing Darcys Head was turned fully away from the road.

“D...Darcy??” She said softly but it went unnoticed.

“You know they’re not guys” Natalie said with a knowing smirk.

“They’re brilliant! You're just too dense to see it” Darcy added.

“The road!” Sage said louder but still no one acknowledged her though Darcy did go back to back to road, talia just crossed her arms and puffed.

Sage let out a relieved sigh, letting herself fall back against the seat then gazed at Natalie. “...Are they really that bad?” Sage asked with an unamused smirk.

“NO, they’re not!” Darcy shouted before Natalie could respond then pulled out a magazine from under the sun visor throwing it a bit rudely into the back seat, it smacking into Sages leg. “Here! This will tell you all about them!” Darcy got on her phone. “I’ll bring up a song”

“Please don’t” Natalie said still on her phone.

“Do you want to even GO to the concert Natalie??” She argued but quickly went back to her phone to search.

“Why are you even going Natalie?” Sage asked with a small smirk, not getting it as the magazine lied open on her lap.

“She’s madly in love with griffin” Talia teased with a chuckle.

“He’s the drummer” Natalie responded, still scrolling. “He’s so hot”

“She’s gonna try to fuck him” Darcy said as if they weren’t talking about a celebrity, like it was going to be as easy as walking into fraternity house party on Friday night

“I don’t care what I have to do” She squinted. “I’ll get em” she whispered; Sage gave a humorous yet slightly uncomfortable face before bringing her attention to the magazine, spotting griffin on the drums and furrowed her brow up a bit, unimpressed.

“So....youre crazy” Sage said, laughing a bit when Darcy spotted a cop and threw her phone down suddenly, cursing when it went under the seat.

“It won’t be too hard” Natalie said nonchalantly. “We’re gonna stalk their trailer after the show” She smirked, talia turning to page with a smile.

“What?!” Sage shot her head up, Talias smile turning to a surprised frown. “You’re not serious?” She asked honestly not sure if she was just talking out her Ass.

“Yeah?” Darcy answered back nonchalantly, as if she didn’t understand why Sage was surprised.

“We have a friend in the area that already told us where their trailer is” Natalie said a bit giddy. “They usually like to keep their bus away from the actual show” She added.

“She likes to follow them around the country” Talia pointed out happily, as if it wasn’t crazy. Sage couldn’t help but think how this women held a job if all she did was follow around a band but shook it away.

“Look, I said I’d come to the show but I’m not stalking some band” Sage said with a slightly uncomfortable smile. Darcy slowed down the car, stopping at a red light when she turned around to look at Sage.

“You're here to help us finally get to meet red grim, ok?” Natalie and Talia looked at Darcy before she turned back around. “Just have fun with it!” Darcy changed her attitude quickly; Sage looked at the back of her head with uneasy eyes.

“...You only invited me to help you sneak in?” She asked, kinda amazed but not in the good way.

“Hey! You get to see red grim for free, that’s something even I’ve never gotten to do!” Darcy smiled but it was off, Talia was clearly uneasy avoiding eye contact while Natalie scrolled through her feed continuously, nonchalant. Sage glared at Darcy a moment with parted lips but eventually looked out the window as the girl bent down under the seat, finally retrieving her phone. “Ha! Now I can play you some Red Grim” She turned on Bluetooth and picked a song, putting it in her lap when it began to sound out the speakers.

🎶”I’m smiling, but I’m dead inside”🎶 Pages brow immediately furrowed up, her eyes widening a bit. 🎶“I don’t want to think, I just gotta hide. These feelings are breaking me”🎶 Page hooded her eyes looking mild miserable in the back. 🎶”and my thoughts are just shaking me! You’re what I need tonight”🎶

‘Oh god’ Sage thought, her face worse than before when suddenly Natalie burst out laughing, Sages eyes shooting toward her.

“He’s so whiny oh my god!!!” She started coughing as Darcy bumped her.

“That’s right choke on it!” She argued, going back to the road but with a grumpy face. “Grims a tortured, lonely soul and you just can’t get that” Natalie was now drinking water as she had laughed too hard, not even paying attention to Darcy.

“Grim?” Sage asked softly when Talia pointed to a pic of him on the flyer.

“He’s the lead singer” She said with a smile as Sage blinked, looking down at his masked face, curiously wondering what he actually looked like.

“Yeah and he’s mine” Darcy said a bit too seriously, as if she was talking about a boy friend then began to turn right. “So don’t even think about it” She ‘joked’ but Sage saw right through it, giving a sigh like scoff in response; at least most of the tension was gone, thanks to Natalie.

____________________________________________

The girls handed their tickets away and began to walk inside when Darcy stopped Sage, Sage taking a step back as the air around the two were already tense enough; she didn’t want to be touched. “You’re still gonna help us, right Sage?” She asked, almost as if talking to a child with a hint of threat; page gave an quick, unamused laugh.

“You never even asked??” She pointed out, lightly miffed.

“Well you wouldn’t have come!” Darcy said a bit childish; Sage gazed away and sighed, clearly trying not to bite back. “...So?” Darcy asked putting a hand on her hip; holy CRAP was this girl asking for it, Sage kept it together but was already in a bad mood.

“I’m not getting arrested, Darcy” Sage said getting in her face a little, making it clear she wouldn’t be participating; Darcy flinched back a bit but regained her composure quickly before giving a very dramatic sigh-again, childish.

“I didn’t want to do this...” She pointed her finger at Sage slightly. “If you don’t help us meet Red Grim, Page-your fired” Sages eyes widened, her lips parting as she furrowed her brow. She moved her head back a bit, shocked in what she heard.

“Y...you can’t do that?!” Sage retorted, pissed but holding it together; Darcy just looked at her with annoyance.

“I don’t want to but I will Sage” This 5’2” girl seriously was looking for an ass kicking. “I bought your ticket so this is how you repay me” She said so off handily as she turned around and headed for the pit. Sage stared at her back with parted lips and a furrowed brow, shaking her head slightly with angered disbelief-she hadn’t even ASKED to come, truthfully they had guilted her into it because Darcy was her boss at work. After a moment Sage bit her tongue, maybe they wouldn’t even make it to the trailer...she hoped.

[pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles]

One Kiss (Girls Talk Boys part 5)

Possibilities I look like all you need

Each chapter has a song title attached so I could keep my files straight on my phone but it ended up really working so I kept it. I have 11 chapters actually written so far but they need revising so I'll be posting every couple of days or so if anyone was curious

Warnings: drinking, smoking, drug use and cursing. Usual stuff.

Previous Chapter

She says she's not ready to leave yet. Still trying to find herself. Keeps asking me to buy prosecco. Camille smiled at the message and the picture of her shiny pink pen resting on what she assumed was Calum's couch. Kicking off her blankets, sleep forgotten for the moment, she knew two could play this game. Camille snuck downstairs ignoring the obvious sex noises coming from Cher’s bedroom. Grabbing an empty beer bottle and Calum's Zippo she set the scene on the kitchen counter before snapping a pic.

Drank four Bud Lights before passing out.  Won't stop calling me bro and asking if “they're real.” Tells dad jokes. Camille grinned as she hit send.

I still don't understand how you got my lighter. watch out he'll try to feel you up when he's buzzed Calum was quick to text back

I get to have my secrets. She's a messy queen when she's wine drunk. You've been warned. After hitting send Camille gave in to the butterflies and the way anything and everything Calum did gave her fanny flutter.  She opened the drawer on her nightstand and an incognito tab on her phone.

Camille woke up to her phone chiming. She had to laugh when she opened the message. There was Calum, shirtless, still in bed, hair a mess, and eyes and lips still puffy with sleep looking wide eyed and panicked for the camera. Captioned (It's not what it looks like) Camille could see her pen lying on the bed next to Calum.  Camille took his lighter off her nightstand placing it on her shoulder nestled in her hair she closed her eyes and feigned sleep and took the picture.

It IS what it looks like bro.

It went on like this for days. Calum sent her snaps from the studio, his home, his favorite coffee shop, his walks with his dog Duke under the pretense of holding her pen hostage. Camille reciprocated taking his lighter with her to dance practice with Tom, on her trips to the market, to the shelter where she volunteered. She even placed it somewhere in frame on her IG and Snapchat mock draft videos. Calum had noticed and teased her for going Hollywood. Camille was surprised by how goofy and silly he really was. He came off so stern and serious when they'd meet. Now here he is cracking up at her jokes, pulling silly faces to make her smile and all the time with the compliments. Camille didn't believe them all but she couldn't lie hearing Calum say she was cute, funny or smart made her entire day. She couldn't tell if it was friendship or flirting, but regardless it was a distraction. She reminded herself yet again, a tan gorgeous muscular cheeky distraction.Who has a girlfriend, and you've known less than one month.

Right now Camille needed to focus on being her damn job and not a sexy Australian. She had her first appearance on ESPN today and this game with Calum had messed with her concentration all week. Carefully arranging her hair into a French twist and priming her face for the studio makeup she put on her best charcoal grey A line dress and matching heels and headed for the door. Just before she reached her car she saw Calum walking Duke talking to Harry out for his morning run. She waved and the guys waved back. Harry shot her an appraising smile and a thumbs up. When she got to the studio she checked her phone before silencing it. There was a picture of Calum holding his dog under one arm and her pen against his cheek with a big cheesy grin.

Knock em dead today. You look great. We believe in you.

Camille shut her phone giggling. She then ran face first into a wall. At least it felt like a wall but really it was just a massive mountain of a man. Camille felt an arm encircle her waist keeping her from falling. Looking up she was met with golden eyes, rippling muscles, tattoos everywhere and a huge smile. She just blinked taking in the second best looking man she'd ever met and certainly the biggest. “Oh my gosh are you ok I'm so sorry” he was apologizing as Camille started to recognize who he was. #87 All Pro Wide Receiver for the LA Rams “Hi I'm Quentin Diaz-Castillo” he introduced himself. Holding out his hand to shake hers. “Yes you are” Camille let the words escape before her brain could move. Her hand felt like a child’s compared to his.  Catching herself she shook her head “What I meant to say there was thank you, I'm fine. I'm Camille and it's a pleasure to meet you. You've helped me win my fantasy league twice.” Quentin chuckled “That's cool, a girl being into football.”

By now they had gotten through security to the actual studio and Camille could see her boss chatting with the host of Fantasy Squad. “So Quentin, how's that wrist feeling after surgery” she leaned into him forcing him to crouch to hear her “would you say you'll be back to full strength by the season opener or should we draft Pickens as a handcuff in deeper leagues?” Camille asked with her most wide eyed innocent little girl voice and the devil in her eyes. Quentin stared at her processing her words. Her boss and owner of profantasysports finally spotted them and hurried over. Stephen tossed her a jersey “New season, new merch Cam. Sorry but it just came in.” Camille pulled the jersey over her head avoiding her hair. Looking at Stephen she asked “cap or no cap? Glasses or no? Are we selling smart or cute?” “Both” Stephen replied “no cap, wear your other glasses, and I like your hair up but can you make it, bigger?” The studio stylist nodded and started to lead Cam away. She stopped and placed a hand on Quentin’s arm “you never answered my question.” He answered in a loud stage whisper teasing her “I can't tell you my secrets in front of everyone.” “Fine” she let out a dramatic sigh “I guess you can tell me over dinner.” “I don't have your number” Quentin answered as the stylist pulled Cam away to get her ready for the camera “He does” Cam pointed at Stephen who promptly whipped out his phone.

Cher invited Luke and Tom over so they could watch Camille’s big debut. Calum and Ashton came along with Luke. The theme music for NFL Fantasy Live started and Cher made everyone hush. Cher cheered out loud when her friend appeared on screen. She was split screen with two guys who kept trying to talk over her but Cam was having none of it. It was verbal jujitsu watching her take down both so called experts. She hit all of her talking points, corrected one guy’s stats, name dropped PFS and looked great in the new merch. Cher made everyone in the room high five her when the show ended.

Cam stepped off stage and found Stephen waiting for her. “You were fantastic” her boss looked pleased “I have no doubt they're gonna ask you back.” Internally she was jumping up and down and screaming, on the outside she was still pretty giddy. “That would be amazing” Cam stopped and glanced around hopefully. Stephen noticed “Sorry, he had to leave, he seemed to like you though.” “Did he want my number?” Camille tried and completely failed not to sound too eager. “I gave it to him but don't hold your breath” her boss warned “He has a serious reputation.” Camille turned her phone back on walking to her car. Her phone started buzzing like an electric beehive. She scrolled smiling at messages from her friends and family till she saw Calum's number.

Am I supposed to be impressed? Because I'm impressed.

Her chest fluttered but then an unknown number popped up.

If you're hungry I'm free right now. Look up.

Camille raised her head and there was Quentin lounging against an expensive looking Rover.

“Let's get lunch. I'm starving” Quentin called out. Camille snapped a quick pic and sent it to Cher. Going to lunch with this guy. Don't wait up.

Camille was both thrilled and terrified. The little bistro he'd taken her to was simple yet elegant.  They were tucked away on a little patio to give them a little privacy and Quentin some room. Restaurant chairs just weren't designed with 6’4, 220 lb NFL players in mind. It wasn't just that he was an enormous human being Quentin was even better looking up close. He had an easy smile and his eyes went from chocolate to amber with his moods. Quentin had a great sense of humor and was a natural entertainer.  He kept Camille laughing with story after story about football while also being genuinely interested about her life and interests. They were both into football of course. It turns out Quinton was as obsessed with 90’s music as Cam was. They both loved Game of Thrones, Beyonce and boy bands. Her head was spinning and Camille wasn't sure if it was Quentin or the wine.

The food was excellent. Brined and roasted duck with truffle mac and cheese and fresh snap peas. “I'm glad to see you're a girl who appreciates food” Quentin commented. Camille felt herself blush, she'd always been self conscious about her weight. “What do you mean?” She replied trying not to sound defensive dropping her eyes to her lap. Quentin immediately grabbed her hand across the table. “Nothing is worse than going on a date with a cute girl who won't eat or talk” he winked at her. Now she was blushing as she smiled at him “I've never been afraid of either. In fact not being able to shut up got me here today.”

“I saw your segment. Those jerks kept trying to talk over you” Quentin leaned back motioning for the server “ doesn't that bother you?”

“Of course it does, but I've been playing fantasy for ten years, professionally for three. Before that I worked in restaurants. I'm small, female and pink. Nobody ever takes me seriously, at first” with that Camille’s sour expression switched to a sly grin. Quentin faked a horrified expression “I'd hate to get on your bad side” “They don't call me the Angry Chihuahua for nothing” Camille finished her wine.  Quentin cracked up right as dessert arrived.

The restaurant was known for its “tea”rimisu. Consisting of rolls of spongy floof cake drizzled in the house crafted green tea liqueur, layered with whipped marscapone, more delicious floof cake, topped with a dulce de leche sauce and fresh whipped cream. Camille took her first bite and gazed across the table at Quentin. Their eyes met as the sweetness hit her tongue. Camille felt her heart flutter and knew she'd fallen in love. This cake was that fucking good. She closed her eyes not wanting to let anything ruin the moment. “You should see the look on your face” Quinton teased her. “Now I know your secret to being such a ladies man. Seduction by cake.” Camille teased back.

It was almost 9 pm by the time Camille got home. After dinner she'd wanted to leave a thank you note for the pastry chef. This turned into a quick visit to meet the kitchen staff and Quentin posing for a few photos. Quentin had volunteered to drive her home, but Camille didn't want the hassle of picking up her car the next day. She'd only had one glass of wine with a full meal. She came home to just Cher and a surprisingly tidy house. “Oh you're home, and alone” Cher came out of the kitchen. “Good Lord I just met him this morning I'm not going to drag him to bed that quickly” Camille had to laugh. “Well I ran the boys off just in case” Cher responded “some of them were very eager to meet your date. Cody is dying to hear from you and tell you about him and Nick. Tom says Quentin is one of his favorite players. Calum didn't look all that thrilled though. I wonder why. Probably doesn't want you replacing him as your boyfriend.” “I don't have a boyfriend” Camille snorted. “Not yet” Cher shot back lighting a joint and handing it over.

Next Chapter Jealous

[reject-princess97]

R5-Ross Lynch Imagine

I started noticing her behaviour a few weeks ago. It started small like not eating the pizza we usually ordered when we watched Hockey or Soccer, something we did every week no excuse. Then she stopped singing along to the radio when we were in the car like she usually did especially when Fall Out Boy or R5 came on the radio. The car rides were now quite and filled with this, tension and sadness in the air. And Recently the most important and biggest change in behaviour is, she doesn't dance anymore. She and Rydel used to book a dance studio once a week when we were home and they used to dance and have fun, they even choreographed a couple of routines for the local dance studio, but it had been months since she last danced with my sister,even her dancing around the house has stopped and I could see something was wrong but when ever I asked her about it, she would just shrug and tell me there was nothing wrong, that she was just feeling a little unwell and she would be fine again soon. But she never was.

Currently Y/N was in the kitchen, cooking dinner and I was sat, at the counter, watching, a look of annoyance and sadness etched across my face, ass he quietly watched the water in the pan bubble and dance around the pasta. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what was wrong but I knew there was no point in asking because she would just tell me she was fine and I would know she was lying.

"Are you sure you only want pasta back for dinner, I don't mind making something else?" She asked turning to look at me. I nodded and smiled, jumping from my seat and walking over to stand by her,wrapping my arms around her smaller frame.

"Y/N, I am perfectly happy having anything you want to eat, because I know it makes you that little bit happier." I kissed her forehead and she let out a small giggle as I did.

I Knew that the giggle was for my benefit more than hers and I knew that she didn't mean that small smile that sat on her lips, I just wanted to pull her into my arms and hug her tight until she was her usual happy self again.

"The sound of my phone ringing made me let Y/N go as I walked over to the counter and pick up my phone only to see it was Rydel.

"Hey Delly." I called into the phone.

"Hey Ross, how's our girl?" she asked and I looked over at Y/N before I exited the room.

"Not to good. She is cooking dinner but, she isn't singing or dancing around the kitchen like she used to do. Delly, what am I supposed to do, she seems to be slipping away from me and I can't bring her back." I told her, sitting to the bottom step of the stairs,feeling a lump rise in my throat.

"Ross, I think I know what's wrong with her." She sighed and I perked up a little bit.

"Really? What is it?" I asked impatiently, biting my finger nail, a little excited to finally know what's wrong and a little anxious to find out at the same time.

"Well, you know that pic I posted of her and I last week?" she asked.

"Yeah, the one of you two from when we want to the UK and she took us all to watch a Soccer match in her home town?" I asked, know exactly which photo because I was one of my favourite picture of her and my sister.

"Yeah, that one, we're wearing the Soccer shirts she bought us. Well, I had heard that there was a comment for someone that plays for that team so as I was looking through I noticed a lot of hate comments,directed towards Y/N." at that I felt anger build in my chest.Mostly at the fans that had been sending hate to my girlfriend but a little bit towards Y/N because she didn't tell me.

"Why didn't she tell me?" I asked a little hurt.

"I'm sure she had her reasons Ross, why don't you ask her? Maybe she'll explain it." Delly told me. "Look, the boys and I will be round in five so do it quick OK." I could hear the smile in her voice and couldn't help but smile back.

I said a quick goodbye and hung up, walking into the kitchen where I found Y/N sat at the counter, watching me.

"I..you know then huh?" she asked me and I nodded, looking at my phone as I placed it on the counter next to hers.

"Rydel saw the comments on her picture and she told me. At least now I understand why you've been behaving different. What I can't understand is why you didn't tell me." I told her, getting a little upset. "I thought we agreed, when we first decided to go public,that we would be in this together, that we would face the haters and the bullies together. Y/N why didn't tell me?"

"I don't know, you love your fans and I don't want you to be angry at them." she told me taking hold of my hand and smiling a small smile. " Besides, it was this bad a first, it was only after you started including me in a lot more of the band projects that it started getting worse." She shrugged and instantly I started feeling a little guilty about it.

"It's my fault, I made you get involved with that stuff and now this is happening, I'm the worst boyfriend ever." I sighed as I pulled her into a tight hug. She laughed and pulled away looking up at me.

"Are you kidding me, you have been the best boyfriend ever, You pushed me to do so many things I would normally do on my own and because of that these past few years with you and your family have been the be stand I wouldn't change anything about them because if I did, I wouldn't be here, with you, making dinner for you and your family."She smiled and I saw a sparkle in her eye, something I haven't seen in so long.

"We're your family too you know" I heard someone say and I turned to see my brothers and sister and Ellington stood behind me watching.

"Yeah, you make our little brother the happiest he has ever been, you don't have a choice Y/N, you're stuck with us now." Riker told her as he came in and wrapped his arms around us both, the rest of the gang following.

"Yeah, I'm just here for the food." El called over Rydel's shoulder making the group laugh.

"Wait, Y/N, we have something to show you, go into the living room, Ross,stay here a sec." Rydel smiled as we all fought our way out of the group hug and she nodded, following Riker out of the kitchen.

"OK, the boys and I have prepared something for Y/N and you need to sing it.

(Y/N P.O.V)

I followed Riker into the living room where I found the guys instruments set up.

"Riker, what's going on?" I ask as he pulled me and sat me down in the couch where Ross soon followed, sitting by me, smiling.

"OK, Ry, you all ready?" Delly asked as she sat by me. I watched at the youngest Lynch held up a camera and held his thumb up.

"Hi guys, bit of an unplanned video today and not a happy one either."Rocky said to the camera as it pointed his way before moving swiftly to Rydel.

"It's come to our attention that there are a lot of fans out there that don't agree with Ross and Y/N relationship." She said as he pointed at Ross and I who smiled.

"And you see that puts us in a really crappy position, because we love you guys and are so very grateful for everything that you've done." El continued.

"But, we love Y/N and she is the most amazing person to all of us. She take care of us when we're on tour, even when were not on tour, like tonight for example, she has spent god know how long in that kitchen cooking so we can all have dinner together." Riker stepped in. Then Ry turned the camera to himself.

"Before all this hate Y/N has been a bright happy person, she was always smiling. She was always singing and dancing every second she could but at the minute, she's lost that, sparkle in her eyes that makes us love her so much." He said into the camera.

"So, we gonna sing you a song, one that I hope brings that sparkle back.But before we do. I just want to get this point across. I'm am going to sound like a dick right now by saying this and I really don't mean to be, but to those who think that by saying such horrible things to my girlfriend is going to drive me away from her, you are very mistaken. Y/N is going no where, I am never letting her go. She is my soulmate and one day I hope I get to be lucky enough to marry her,because she is the kindest, sweetest, fun loving human I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and I can't wait to see what our future brings." Ross said to the camera before turning to me.

" Y/N you are always so strong and I certain there is nothing life can throw your way that you can't overcome. This is one of those time though, that you can let someone fight along side you, maybe let me be the one to fix things for a change." He smiled as I kissed my cheek and I heard Riker begin to play the guitar and Rydel began playing her key bored.

ThenRoss voice filled the room and I felt tears build in my eyes.

Sometimes love's a scary place

It's like standing in the dark

Flying through the universe

Trying to fix your broken heart

It's okay to let it go

You don't have to be so brave

Take a chance if someone else

Is gonna sweep in and save the day

Riker

You don't have to face your fears alone

'Cause whenever you're in trouble

I'll know

All

Let me be your superhero

There isn't a place I won't go

Whenever you need me by your side

I'll be there, be there

Never be afraid if you fall

I'll carry you away from it all

Let me be your superhero

Let me be your superhero

Rydel

Take off your mask, put down your guard

Don't need a symbol on your chest

It's all right for once to play

The damsel in distress

You're gonna use up all your strength

Trying to be so strong

Don't have to shoulder all the weight

Together we can take it on

You don't have to face your fears alone

(You're not alone, baby)

'Cause whenever you're in trouble

I'll know, oh

All

Let me be your superhero

There isn't a place I won't go

Whenever you need me by your side

I'll be there, be there

Never be afraid if you fall

I'll carry you away from it all

Let me be your superhero

Let me be your superhero

Woah woah oh

Woah woah oh

Let me be your super hero

Woah woah oh, yeah yeah

Woah woah oh

Sometimes love's a scary place

It's like standing in the dark

Flying through the universe

Trying to fix your broken heart

Yeah

As I listened I felt like I wasn't alone and that it really didn't matter what the fans thought because I have an amazing group of people who want to call me family and the most amazing boyfriend I could ask for. I smiled at them and just let all my fears, my worries and my anxieties wash away as I sang along with them.

All&Y/N

Let me be your superhero

There isn't a place I won't go

(I won't go)

Whenever you need me by your side

I'll be there, be there

Never be afraid if you fall

I'll carry you away from it all

(I'll pick you up, baby)

Let me be your superhero

Let me be your superhero

Yeah, I can be your superhero

You know I will, baby

Woah woah woah oh oh

Let me be your superhero

Once the song was over the boys and Delly all dove at me, capturing me into a hug, letting me, for the first time in so long, enjoy being with my family with no worries and no fears of not being good enough for them.

X

[beowulfs-booty-call]

Beowulf for the character list!

Ohhhh gosh Jordi! How are ya pal!!! (I still have to finish the other ask you gave me! I’m making it super long and detailed just for you!)

AND GOD YES, THE FAVE BABE OKAY HERE GOES

Favorite thing about them:

Beowulf’s motif and his huge ass muscles because they’re goals. Also, the wolf pelt, definitely. Oh! Oh! And his happy-go-lucky attitude because my ass be having it too omfg.

His bravery is another thing, tbh, because he just straight up tells everyone on tv that his match was rigged because he knows he’s not really a hero. He’s the people’s hero. That was the reason in the first place why he got famous! To go in front of people and explain the situation knowing full well you might get back? That takes guts.

Least favorite thing about them:

The “Wrestler Bro” attitude sometimes. It’s fine, but the dudes at Lab Zero gave him a split “Does he think wrestling is real or…?” and “He says things you don’t expect in whispers.” in fights and it’s a wasted Easter egg Imo. The game makes him act and behave as though he’s rather dim-witted, which, cool because he’s a simple guy, but they also shoehorned Annie in to save his butt time to time and I dislike the sort of relationship they gave them both. 

It’s also been said behind the scenes Beowulf did take part of the nationalistic effort in the war. Now, granted, if that was the case? Why didn’t they expand upon this? If he was a soldier, I feel he should obviously be referenced too, if not, as it already seems Parasoul knew he was merely a political pawn, I feel Beowulf’s love of the Canopy Kingdom really should have been broadened on because it’s bad writing Imo that they left out these things in favor of highlighting Annie in his story mode.

Personally in my essay I wrote, I really am big on the Annie inclusion, but I feel that it took away from Beowulf’s true personality and potential. Why add in Beowulf being saved by Annie, if he was meant to destroy Grendel anyway via suplex? I feel if such was the case, have Annie take on Double in the first place after she swallows Beowulf into Gehenna and he takes on Marie Ala Squigly and Filia.

That said, the dimwittedness is rather bland to me. It’s obvious Beowulf’s intellect shouldn’t be the brunt of the joke, and the fanbase was even worse with his treatment, outright ignoring him or treating him as the butt-monkey of the cast because Annie or Minette wasn’t voted in and it really does tick me off. We could have really shown how Beowulf was obviously using the wrestler persona to grieve for Grendel. We really could have had Beowulf figuring out just how big the Medici Mafia is and him going after those who wronged him after beating Marie. 

We really lost out. And that’s my biggest pet peeve.

Favorite line:

I am two hundred, eighty seven pounds of FOLDED STEEL, AND SEX APPEAL.

brOTP:

Beowulf and Adam

Beowulf and Big Band (After their fighting in the story mode and I imagine him coming back to right wrongs)

Beowulf and Annie (I feel like she should have been much more better friends with him. And of course I feel like she’d be so goddamn dirty with him in making censored jokes because he GETS it but he... He can’t man. The kid’s got him. And he can't curse because how would that look!!! You can't call out a kid who referenced how your ex was “all up on your blood sausage.”!

OTP:

Beowulf and Me aofhiefsjfa[

I’m actually okay with Beowulf and Ms. Victoria actually! I think they’d be so cute together, if anything because I use to think of me and my ex like that, hilariously enough. I.E: Beo is the sort of guy who would waste like 50$ on you at a carnival because he wants to get you the huge ass prize, but then on his last dollar, you take the shot, win it, and you give it to him and his eyes literally are just hearts.

nOTP:

Beowulf and Eliza (Realistically, she’s only gonna use him for his blood to get stronger. I feel like if anything, there’s nothing left of Eliza. So, at this point, you’re dealing with a real monster.)

Beowulf and any underage cast member - I mean C’mon. Really.

Beowulf and Annie - See above

random headcanon(s)

- Beowulf actually is really literate, and writes poetry time to time. However, no one would pay to see him go “To be or not to be… SUPLEXED”

- He likes to wear suede and you can find him walking and going about in his scarf and puffy jacket drinking hot tea and lattes because just loves winter months

- The Hurting actually is a sentient being and was given to Beowulf via his old sleazy manager Unferth (In the original tale, Unferth gives Beowulf the Hrunting, but beowulf is so strong, he breaks it.) yet it stays strong to this day. When Beowulf is alone, or when he’s really in a pinch, the Hurting opens up its maws and has long sharp fangs and monstrous tongue used to grapple opponents. Only Beowulf speaking to it can calm it down and turn back to an original chair. No one realizes a thing.

- Grendel’s arm hears EVERYTHING beowulf says, as Grendel is still alive through the arm. However, all it hears is Beowulf screaming his quotes so instead of coherent sentences its: “ALL’S CHAIR. RUNNING WILD. AWOO. I AM TWO HUNDRED–”

- Beowulf actually is a secret musical / Opera critic and is a big benefactor of the arts. He also shouts insults and screams very helpful messages to the actors. 

- When out of a job, Beowulf once took up a librarian job working in Filia’s school. Cue Ms. Victoria having to attend to students and him riding on the Janitor mobile and D. Violet secretly having a crush on him. He also bench pressed many a book case. I would know. I was one of the book cases. The kids later were the first ones to see him back in action with Ms. Victoria after he got back in the game, and they gave him a crude letter to him about being a hero and boy oh boy do I love Beowulf being kids’ hero like he was to me.

Unpopular opinion:

As the only male dude besides Big Band I feel he was purposefully thrown under the bus and really, there’s not enough porn or love for him. Much less, everyone seems to have like 2 intro animations, Beo has 1. I call favoritism but, anyway:

I think he doesn’t need a paring to shine as a hero. I think he needs to be shown more so people can realize just how awesome he really is, not with Annie saving his butt all the time so he can tout about wrestling being real.

Had he not shown up, we only would know about him via Peacock’s story mode with Andy Anvil saying he came out of retirement.

Give him love! He’s earned it!

And also like, I think he is as smart, if not, smarter than the rest of the cast, he just hides it under a veneer of being a pro wrestler. No one pays for WWE style entertainment in new meridian, they want real emotion, and that’s what Beowulf’s so used to. Because of that, he whispers and talks about things, but when you really think about them, they all have some meaning behind them, like when he calls Eliza the Crimson Scourge. I hate the idea that people think he’s a dumb dude because he’s not. Y’all just sleeping on a good character.

Song(s) i associate with them:

Space Jam’s Let’s Get Ready to Rumble

Dudley’s remix: Dudley Blew My Mind

Alex and Ken’s theme from Street Fighter 3: Third Strike

Major Lazer and Ariana Grande - All My Love

Because he liked 80′s songs and because I love funk music:

Bite the Apple - Rainbow Team

The Limit: She’s so Divine (In this case, he: “When I got here in July…”)

Let’s Get Physical: Olivia Newton AKA SIDE TO SIDE BEFORE IT WAS EVER SIDE TO SIDE

Reminder: I gotta draw him in that outfit afjnlsfgs

Also!!!

Side to Side + Let’s Get Physical MIX:

Dua Lipa: New Rules 80′S MIX (Totally something he’d listen to for the gym)

favorite picture of them

Wow it’s super nsfw but I’ll crop it for the benefit of all.

Here’s my fave sprites too

Look at him, majestic creature, no?

BICEP GRAB

Ass a palooza

And finally…

( I don’t recall the source rn for this pic, but I’ll be sure to update it asap when I get a chance!)

[naughty-teddy-innit]

Emily & Ed: Part 1                   Forever and Ever…A Love Story.

Title:       Ed and Emily - A Love Story Author: @naughty-teddy-innit Rating:  PG- No smuts, brief sexy texts, making out

Enjoy, and comments, Asks, Feedback and Reblogs are LOVE! Xoxoxoxo

There are certain moments in my life that I will hold tight and keep just for me, memories that are indelibly inked on my heart.   These memories, the building blocks of my soul, could never be adequately captured in a photograph or described in a journal, they exist only in me. They sneak up and trigger that waterfall of emotion that remind me why life is worth living.  The first time those beautiful, soft, perfectly pink lips found mine.  The first time his soft accented voice murmured the word “Forever”, and every single time after, because “I love you” was never enough.  The day I had to say goodbye to my grandmother, when my heart was broken and the arms I needed around me, to keep me strong, were halfway across the world and when I thought I couldn’t feel more pain, he was there, his arms around me, holding me up.  Christmas morning.  Walking into the living room to the glow of the lights from the tree lighting his face like an angel, and the sight of him down on his knee, pure love in his eyes, and my grandmother’s ring in his hand.  The smile on his face when I managed a “Yes!” through the tears. These moments are the ones that will stay with me, seared into my heart and spirit for as long as I live.  Today, the one instance that tops them all, the one that will stay with me until my life leaves me, is the look in his eyes as I walked towards him, down that aisle, to become his wife.  

From the moment we became engaged, we knew we wanted a wedding just for us, simple, with just our family and loved ones.  The people we cherished the most.  Ed’s heart lay in his hometown, it always had, and I knew when it came time for us to make those promises, that’s where we would do it.  We chose the church where he first sang in the choir as a child for our ceremony, knowing that going back to where it all started was the perfect way to symbolize our new beginning.  We debated where to have our celebration after the ceremony, a local B&B or maybe a hotel, but none felt right.  One night, laying in the hammock overlooking his gorgeous property in Suffolk, with our cold beers in hand and a blanket wrapped around us, we realized what we’d been missing the whole time.  We didn’t need a fancy hotel, we could bring our celebration to us, in the place where our new life was about to begin.  From that moment on, every bit of our planning led to home.

All these months later, I couldn’t believe The Day was finally drawing so near.  All week we’ve witnessed the transformation of this simple, yet stunning piece of land as it turned into our dream come true.  A huge, beautiful marquee would be set up, in beautiful blues and silvers, with what would seem like thousands of wildflowers hung everywhere. Candles and lanterns would line the walkways and delicate fairy lights would line the roof of the tent and the trees that dotted the property.   We didn’t want our guests to be separated, so we planned for only two single long tables set up on either side of the tent, with candles and creamy roses scattered throughout the table settings.  Our sweetheart table was simple, festooned with daisies and tiny candles, and framed by the glow from the fairy lights. A classic, simple dance floor would be set up at the far end, with a small stage for the band, and in the opposite corner would be a full bar, a requirement for my hubby to be.  It was going to be our dream English Garden celebration, and I couldn’t wait to see it all come together.

I opened my eyes this morning to the sound of rain, but I couldn’t have cared less.  I rolled over in my bed, a smile plastered on my face as I caught sight of my dress hanging from the window, and the small velvet box on the dresser containing Ed’s ring.  Today, he would officially, and legally, be forever mine, and I would be his.  We would make our vows and exchange our rings, and our new life would start.  I could not wait. I hopped out of my bed, thinking that it possibly was the first and only morning of my life that I wouldn’t need coffee!  My family, of course, had flown in for the wedding, and we were staying at the hotel where Ed actually had his first job.  Under any other circumstances I would have simply stayed with Ed in our flat in the city, but being the traditionalist I was, I had decided we would not stay together the week leading up to the wedding.  Even worse for the poor boy, I had made the decision that sex was off the table for the month leading up to the wedding, wanting our wedding night to be memorable and special.  Ed had NOT particularly been a fan of this turn of events, but despite many, MANY temptations, we’d managed to abstain.  Barely.  Just barely.

I had also insisted on maintaining the age old tradition of the groom not seeing the bride before the ceremony.  Ed had always been one to treasure of every single moment; one of the things I loved most about him was how he always wore his heart on his sleeve.  He’d talked many times about waiting for this moment his whole life long, and I was so ready to BE that moment.  I wanted to see the emotion in his eyes, the expression on his face, as he saw me for the first time at the back of the church.  He wasn’t the only one who’d been waiting his whole life, and I wanted to soak every bit of it in.

The hours leading up to the ceremony were a blur of waffles and mimosas, hair rollers and hairspray, and best of all, giggles and time with the ladies I loved the most.  My younger sister was my maid of honour, and my childhood best friend, along with my 2 best girlfriends from college, were my bridesmaids.  My hair was simple, I wore it half up, flowers pinned behind my ear, soft waves on my shoulder.  I kept my makeup soft and natural, Ed had always said less was more, and had never been a fan of any kind of makeup at all.  I had never much cared either way, so I went for the natural look, hoping it was enough to look pretty in our pictures.   Hair done and face all pretty, it was time.  I had been ready to step into my dress for weeks; I think I was in love with it as I was with Ed.  From the moment we began planning the wedding I knew how I wanted to look walking down that aisle.  Simple, traditional, classic, beautiful.  I had tried on only 4 dresses, and from the second that first one slid up my body, I knew it was the one.  Fitted to my body perfectly with a slight flair and with delicate, tiny, beaded cap sleeves, it was made of the most beautiful, intricate lace I had ever seen. The embellishment of the tiny cap sleeves was accented by the simple elegance of the illusion neckline, accented with the same lace that flowed over my dress.  It fastened with tiny pearl buttons up the back, flowed into a sweep train, and in my eyes, defined simplicity and beauty.  Initially, I had fought against a veil, thinking it would be far too much, and really, I wasn’t a bells and whistles sort of girl anyway. That all changed when my mother had managed to unearth the stunning, hand-sewn lace veil my grandmother had worn when she married my granddad.  It was light and airy and edged in gorgeous antique lace with tiny pearl accents, and flowed to the perfect length to frame my dress.  My mother had gently placed the veil on my head during my last fitting, adjusting the comb so that its cathedral length flowed around my body, and in that moment, I could feel my grandmother’s presence all around me. I knew she would be with me as I walked down that aisle, and there was nothing I wanted more.

I was as desperate for our wedding night as Ed was, a month is a LONG time, and so I had wickedly chosen my undergarments knowing they’d drive him wild once he got to them.   I chose a simple lace bustier, sheer with lacy patterning on the boning, with embroidered cups, laced with silky ribbon in the back.  To say it enhanced my cleavage would be an understatement, but thankfully the lacy illusion neckline of my dress kept that secret hidden, a little something just for Ed.  The matching lacy panties were high cut and butt-cheek baring, with tiny bows at the hips. I wore thigh-highs, specifically for the purpose of tantalizing and teasing Ed later on, and the little straps at the bottom of the bustier clipped to the tops of those.  I caught a glance of myself in the mirror, and biting my lip with a wicked smirk, thought maybe I’d share a taste of the view.  Grabbing my phone off the bathroom counter, I angled it low and snapped a quick shot.  The angle of it showed the lace edging at the bottom of the bustier, the bow at the curve of my hip, and the beginning of the strap that reached down to where it clipped to my hose.  I flicked open my messaging app and attaching the pic, sent a quick message to my soon-to-be hubby.

 Me: 2 hours to go and you’re all mine…thought maybe you’d like a little taste of what’s waiting for you later…xoxoxox…

Ed: Can’t wait till you’re MY WIFE.  Also can’t wait get those fucking sexy panties OFF my wife…Fucking HELL.

Me:  You’ll have to unbutton and unlace me first…

Ed:   Jesus. Em, you’re the ONLY wedding gift I plan to unwrap tonight….

Me:  It’ll be worth the wait.  I promise….  See you at the altar, Teddy  <3 xoxoxoxox

Ed:   I’ll be the one in the monkey suit…probably trying not to cry.  Forever and ever Love…

I let eyes my shut for a moment and let the enormous smile inside of me spread across my face.  I loved this man so much.  I wanted to call him husband and wear that ring and be his wife, I was READY.  Well, except for the half naked part, though I’m sure Ed wouldn’t have minded. Time to put on the dress and become a wife!  I wrapped a silky robe around me and hurried out of the bathroom, ready to step into my gown and get this show on the road. Our talented photographer arrived just in time to capture the getting-ready moments that I knew would be so lovely to look back on; the smiles and giggles, last minute jewelry and makeup touch-ups, and group hugs with the women I loved the most.  I stepped into my dress, carefully sliding it up my body and guiding the tiny sleeves over my shoulders.  My sister and mother fastened each button, while my best girlfriends helped secure my tiny teardrop earrings and pearl bracelet.  My dress in place, I slid my feet into my comfy, specially bedazzled flats while my bridesmaids held my skirt.   Heels and I did not have a good relationship, so this was my special treat on my special day, and I LOVED them.  The veil would be placed in my hair once we arrived at church, simply because of its length and my not wanting to ruin it in the car.  I swallowed, and with the help of my entourage, turned to face the mirror, ready to see myself as a bride.  The reflection that stared back at me was everything I hoped to be on my wedding day.  The dress clung to me perfectly and made me feel the most beautiful I’d ever felt.  I didn’t feel overdone and gaudy, but rather natural and soft and stunning.  I couldn’t wait for Ed to see me.  The tear on my mother’s cheek and the looks on the faces that surrounded me…they spoke volumes.  I was ready.

We took many photos, I wanted to capture every moment I could.  We posed on the bed, by the window, all together and one-on-one.  As we finished with photos, and began to gather our handbags and emergency supplies, we were interrupted by a knock at the door.  My sister waved me aside as she ran to check who it was, not wanting anyone to see me who shouldn’t.  The visitor turned out to be Ed’s older brother, and best man, Matthew.  He had the sweetest smile on his face when he saw me, and in his soft voice commented on how Ed was the luckiest man in England today.  That brought a blush to my cheeks and a smile to my face, and so I gently hugged him and thanked him.  He was carrying a medium-sized, flat box, simply wrapped, with an envelope tucked under the silver ribbon.  I felt a hand guide me to the chair by the breakfast table, and someone helped hold my skirt while I sat down.  Matthew placed the package on the table beside me, and said simply “He wanted you to have this.”  As he stepped back, I carefully untied the silver ribbon, and slipped the card from its envelope, steeling myself for what was written inside.  I knew my fiancé better than anyone, and I was betting it was a good thing I was wearing waterproof mascara.  I wasn’t wrong.

 Em, My Love,

Everything I’ve done in my life has led to this day, and I can’t wait to share it, and every day after, with you.  Every moment with you has been the best of my life, and I know it’s only going to get better with you by my side.  I can’t wait to be your husband for all of our days.  

Hurry up Wife, I’m waiting….

Forever and Ever Xo

                                              Teddy

That man had the power to undo me in a heartbeat, and reading those words, had my heart nearly bursting.  I looked to the ceiling, trying to hold back the tears that had sprung to my eyes.  

I could barely comprehend how one man could complete me the way he did.  I felt tissues being pressed into my hands, and heard the sound of my sister gasping that I’d smear my makeup, but in that moment I could have walked that aisle with raccoon eyes, and not cared a bit.  I dabbed my eyes, and took a slow, shaky breath, replacing the card on the table. I reached for the package, carefully unwrapping the paper and seeing a simple white gift box.   My fingers fumbled with the lid, eagerly trying to remove it so I could see inside, but in my eagerness it didn’t want to cooperate. My mom quickly helped lift the other end of the lid, allowing me to yank the whole thing off, and I tossed it to the side, dying to see what was underneath.  My breath slowed and my eyes widened as my fingers found the soft leather cover of the photo album inside.  I pushed the tissue paper aside and lifted it carefully from the box, setting it on the table.  I could feel my eyes water as I took in the intricate detail embossed on the cover, and the gorgeous smell of the leather.  I gently flipped it open, and the only words I could force from my mouth were Oh Teddy, as my eyes welled up. The first page contained the very first photo ever taken of us, a selfie of all things at mutual friend’s holiday party, ugly Christmas sweaters and all.  He’d collected photos from our friends and family, combed through our personal collection; even printing snapshots from our phones.  I even recognized a couple of photos as shots taken from various Instagram’s.   My eyes couldn’t take them all in fast enough; as I continued to flip through the pages, the memories and feelings that came with each one almost overpowered me.   Rosy cheeks on a ski vacation when I’d managed to wreck my ankle the second day. Our first New Year’s Eve together as a couple, silly hats on our heads, noisemakers in our mouths.  Arms wrapped around each other, goofy grins on our faces at my college graduation.  A sneaky shot of us fast sleep on an airplane, my head tucked in his neck, his face buried in my hair.  My first (and only!) tattoo experience, the cookie monster on my foot, my hands clutching Ed’s as he tried not to laugh.  An intimate selfie of us cuddled up in bed, me in my glasses and makeup free, both of us content and cuddled up in blankets.  The two of us entwined under the Christmas tree, the lights reflecting in our eyes as I showed off my ring the morning we got engaged, my face wreathed in the biggest smile I’d ever seen.  I noticed looking at it now, how Ed had eyes only for me, there was such love and tenderness on his face; it was like he didn’t even realize the camera was there.   The gorgeous engagement photos we had taken on his property in the spring, the sun on our cheeks and the beautiful trees he’d planted in the background.  So many precious moments captured, and he’d put them all together in this gorgeous book, and even dated and handwritten a caption under every single one.  Our whole life together so far, my whole heart, wrapped up in a box.  It was so beautiful, so thoughtful, so overwhelming that he’d put so much time and effort into this perfect gift.  I couldn’t have been more in love with him than I was at that moment. 

I gently closed the book, smoothing a hand over the cover before placing it back in the box.  I looked at Matthew, and still trying to hold back tears, gave him a message for Ed. “It’s perfect.  Utterly, completely perfect.  I love it.  Tell him I’m ready, and he better be waiting!”  Matthew grinned, promising to pass on my message, and then politely showed himself out. I stood up from my chair and determinedly declared it was time to go, I was ready to marry my man.  “I’m leaving with or without you”, I told them with a grin, and with a chorus of “Yes ma’am’s!” we gathered our bags and belongings and headed out.  

I was extremely close with my mom, she was my best friend and most loyal supporter, and I was so thrilled to have had her by my side during this whole wedding planning process, but since the day I was born, I was, and always would be, a Daddy’s girl.  He had insisted that he not be told a single detail about my dress, that he didn’t want to see a thing until I was ready to walk the down the aisle, and so he had stayed in the dark, until now.  I knew he’d be waiting for me at the bottom of the gorgeous staircase that led down to the lobby of the hotel, and I couldn’t wait for his reaction.  My bridesmaids went ahead of me, followed by my mother, and when I could see them along with my dad in position at the bottom, I began my descent.  I hadn’t gone down 3 steps when I eyes locked with my daddy’s, and that was it.  The pride and emotion was literally beaming from his eyes, and his mouth was open as if in awe.  As I reached the bottom, he stepped forward and proffered his hand, assisting me down the last step, with the biggest smile I’d ever seen dancing on his face.  He kissed my cheeks and twirled me around, his eyes crinkling as he took me in.  He opened his mouth, trying to find the right words, and when nothing came out, that’s when I noticed his eyes were damp and he was struggling to keep it together.  Oh my sweet Daddy.  I kissed his bearded cheek and told him how debonair and handsome he looked, and that he’d better keep it together or we’d never make it down the aisle.  He just grinned and shook his head, telling me I’d always been his voice of reason.  He took my hand and we headed for the doors, ready to go to the church. Thankfully, any rain that had fallen that morning had disappeared, and the skies were now clearest blue. The sun was brilliant, its warmth enveloping me as we walked through the door, and I couldn’t help but bask in it, just for the briefest of moments.  I hadn’t any idea how we were getting to the church, only that my dad had promised he’d get us there in style.  He had refused to reveal anything more than that, so I was more than curious to see what awaited us outside.  I gasped when I walked through the doors, seeing the sleek, snow white, vintage Bentley that was awaiting us at the curb.  I could picture Princess Diana or Duchess Kate making their grand entrances from this gorgeous car.  All I could do was clap my hands and let out a squeal when I saw it, it was just incredible.  My mother and my dad helped me climb into the plush backseat, and arranged my skirt just so. I noticed a second, more modern Bentley pull up behind us, ready to chauffeur my mother, sister and best friends to the ceremony, right along with us.  After he ensured that they were safely tucked away in their ride, my dad climbed into the backseat right beside me, motioning to the driver that we were ready to go.  It was only a short drive, but that few minutes was enough for the butterflies to set in.  Unconsciously, I began twisting my fingers together, tracing my manicured nails over and over, and tapping my foot.   My gentle daddy, he clasped my hands in his, gently stroking my knuckles, and smiled that reassuring smile that had brought me through many difficult times.  “He’s the luckiest man this side of the pond, you know.” He whispered softly. “He’s so good for you, and you bring out the best in him.  I wouldn’t walk you down that aisle to just anyone. You know that.”

I swallowed back the tears that threatened, my father’s strength was my strength, and it had carried me through so much.  I could only imagine how difficult the prospect of “giving his daughter away” must have been for him.

“There won’t ever be anyone else, he’s the only one for me.” I took a deep breath, and gazed at him, the first man that ever loved me.  “I love you so much, Daddy. I’m so glad you’re here with me today.  I doubt I’d make it down that aisle without you holding me up!”  I let my fingers brush the softness of his beard as I wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him as tightly as I could.  Before he could utter another word, the car came to a stop, and there was the church, right in front of me.  Gallant gentleman that he was, he stepped down from the car first.  I had warned Ed the night before that he was to stay in his designated space inside the church once he got there, no sneaking any peeks, and he’d promised to behave.  Two strong hands suddenly grasped mine and helped me step out of the car and onto the walkway.  The second car pulled up behind ours and my mother, sister, and bridesmaids were suddenly all around me, escorting me into the church.  The bridal room was ready for us, and the flowers had been delivered, much to my relief.  We had chosen simple garlands and bunches of wildflowers and daisies for most of our décor, accented by clusters of soft pink roses, to go with the English countryside/garden motif, and I’d wanted to keep the bouquets to the same theme.  My lovely girls carried small, simple bouquets of gorgeous, brightly hued wildflowers, and I had chosen a simple bouquet of creamy roses, accented by wildflowers in softer, pastel hues.  Boutonnieres had already been distributed, and I watched as my father pinned the corsage he’d chosen onto my mother’s dress, and then kissed her cheek.  They loved each other so much, I hoped one day Ed and I would still be that in love when our children were grown.  

We touched up our makeup, checked our earrings, and brushed our teeth within an inch of our lives.  A visit to the ladies room also became a necessity, and all I can say is thank heavens for helpful bridesmaids!  A knock on the door suddenly caught all of our attention, and a smiling, eye-twinkling face poked through.  I grinned, seeing Murray, Ed’s cousin, so full of happiness and energy, but then he always was.  “I’m told to tell you he’s ready and waiting, love!  Church is full and he wants to get married!”

I smiled at him and said “We’ve just got to pin the veil on and we’re ready! Less than 10 minutes, I promise!”  I went to shoo him from the room, and a thought suddenly occurs that made me pause and call him back.  “Murray, WAIT.  You or John or Matt or SOMEONE, make sure he’s done his tie straight! He can’t get it right to save his life!”

“On it!” he says authoritatively, dashing from the room in his usual comic way, causing everyone, including me, to fall to pieces laughing.   I shook my head and took a deep breath, all of a sudden feeling the rollercoaster sensation in my stomach again.  He was waiting for me, and all I had to do was make it down that aisle.  

“Alright girls, veil me!” I commanded with a smile, wanting to get to those doors and see those clear blue eyes gaze back at me.  The veil itself had been very carefully cleaned and steamed so that there was not a wrinkle in sight, and it was hanging in a clear garment bag, ready to be placed on my head.  I watched my mom unzip the bag and gently pull it from the hanger, laying it over her arm so that it wouldn’t catch or wrinkle.  I faced the door so that I wouldn’t have to turn around too much once it was in place.  I felt my mom’s gentle hand smooth my hair and position my head, and then I closed my eyes and she slid the comb into the hair that was teased at the top of my head. My sister and my 3 bridesmaids gently fluffed the long length of tulle, arranging the material so that it flowed smoothly over my shoulders, cascading down to my train.  I could feel the gossamer light material brush against my bare arms, and my fingers found the lace edging, tracing the lines of the scalloping and the tiny pearl accents that dotted the lacy pattern. Having this piece of my grandmother literally surround me on my wedding day…it was everything to me. I turned to the side, loving the feeling of the veil flowing down my body. Catching sight of my reflection in the mirror, I abruptly froze in place, taking in the sight of myself as a bride.  I could barely believe it was me…my dress fit me beautifully, my hair was sleek and beautiful, my face flawless.  My jewellery caught the light, and my grandmother’s stunning veil….it took my breath away.  I just hoped Ed would feel the same way.  

“If he doesn’t cry…I sure as hell will.” I heard my father’s gruff voice in my ear as he took his place beside me, his eyes staring at the same reflection mine were.  “You ready to get married, sweetheart?”  I squared my shoulders and exhaled, as a grin spread across my face.  “Let’s do it, Daddy” I said, the butterflies gone and my heart ready. I squeezed his hand and nodded at him.   My three sweet bridesmaids left the room first, followed my mother and best friend.  It was just my daddy and I, and he gently scooped up my veil and helped me carefully walk down the hallway to the vestibule around the corner from the big doors that led into the church. The pastor who would be performing our ceremony, a sweet older gentleman whom we affectionately called Father Patrick, was waiting for us.  He offered kind words of encouragement and instructed us to wait for the cues in the music before we began our walk down the aisle.  With a final smile and a wink, he headed through the doors to take his place at the front of the church, his bible tucked into the crook of his arm. Matthew would be waiting at the front of the church with Ed, as his best man, but Stuart, Murray, and Jovel would walk down the aisle, accompanying my girls.  

I heard the soft strains of the piano and violin begin to play, and steeled myself, trying to keep my composure. Matthew had already escorted my mother to her seat before the music began, so it was just us, and it was time. The moment was finally here.  He was waiting for me.  Stu, Jovel, and Murray all kissed my cheek and squeezed my hand with encouraging smiles before offering my ladies their elbows, and lining up in the proper order. Ed’s little goddaughter was our flower girl and my little nephew was our ring bearer, and we’d see if they made it down the aisle together.  They looked completely adorable in their matching white dress and cream suit.   The doors were pulled open, and one by one, my girls made their way down the aisle with their dashing escorts, to take their places at the front, followed by the little ones, who were so excited they fairly tore down that aisle, forgetting even to spread the flower petals from the basket.  They were so sweet, I truly didn’t even care. Then, it was time.  The music faded out for a moment, and that was our cue.  I felt such affection as I watched my father fluff and straighten my veil, and brush a strand of hair from my eyes.  He kissed my forehead and lifted his arm up, tucking my arm through his, holding me tightly.  

I hadn’t allowed myself to look to the front of the church, I didn’t trust myself to keep it together, but I couldn’t wait any longer.  I had to and he was there, my beautiful Teddy.  He wasn’t facing me, not yet. He’d wait for the cue from the pastor to turn around, but oh….the way the lights caught the fire of his hair, the soft curls like spun gold.  The lines of his broad shoulders, and the way his tux jacket hugged him, oh my…. I could see his foot jiggling nervously, and then his hand reached out to touch Matthew’s shoulder as they exchanged a grin.  His head lifted suddenly, looking up to the ceiling and I could see him taking a deep breath, trying to prepare himself.  I could feel that strong, familiar hand holding me steady, and squeezing my hand, as the notes of Pachelbel’s Canon (Didn’t I say I was a traditionalist?) filled the church.  I lifted my head, smiled at my Daddy, and took the first step.

I held it together until I looked in his eyes.  I could see Father Patrick with a broad smile on his face, gesture to Ed that it was time. That I was ready.   His shoulders lifted, and with knowing smiles from him groomsmen, he turned around.  It was as if everyone else disappeared, the music faded, time slowed and my heart felt as though it was going to thrum right out of my chest.  His eyes widened, his mouth parted, and the wonder and joy in his eyes…it would stay with me every day for the rest of my life. His hands were clasped in front of him, and it looked as though he’d forgotten how to breathe, but he never took his eyes off me.  My eyes found his, those clear blue eyes that could see into my soul, and the love that fairly shone out of them, I couldn’t get to him fast enough.  The grin that spread across his face, it spoke of pride and love and pure joy, and it was like pure sunlight shining over me.  I took slow, shaky breaths, reminding myself to breath as I slowly made my way down that aisle.  I couldn’t see a single face in that church, besides Ed’s, and I could feel the tears as they spilled down my cheeks. He was everything.  After what seemed like an eternity, we reached the front, and Ed stepped forward.  I looked in to my father’s eyes, and lifted my face for a kiss.  His fingers brushed my face, wiping the tears away before he kissed my cheek one last time.  Ed reached his hand out to grasp my dad’s, and in return, my dad raised his eyebrow in jest, and wrapped his arms around him in a big hug.  A smile lit both their faces, and it meant the world to me to see the love and affection between the two most important men in my life.  My dad stepped back, and we all faced the pastor, waiting for the words that would finally allow me to join my soon-to-be hubby. He asked the traditional question, who gives this woman to this man, and when my father responded: Her mother and I do, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Ed. He was standing proudly, his chest puffed out with his hands at his sides, but they were restless, like he just couldn’t wait any longer.  My dad lifted my hand and with a twinkle in his eye, finally, placed my hand in Ed’s.

His hands, they were so soft, so warm, and so strong. They cradled my fingers, while the pad of his thumb skimmed gently over my knuckles, in such a gentle, tender way. I squeezed his hands, and we both just gazed at each other, our eyes locked, and the most ridiculous of smiles on our faces.  There was such joy coursing through me, I could barely contain it. I squeezed his hands and bit my lip, ready to marry this man.  He shook his head slightly, almost as if in disbelief, and when he mouthed “So beautiful…” the look in his eyes was almost reverent.  Our ceremony was to be traditional and spiritual, and so we bowed our heads and spoke our prayers, and both of our mothers read beautiful passages from the bible. We sang a beautiful hymn in honour of my grandmother, and Ed’s Granddad, who were no longer with us, and knelt down to be blessed. The pastor invited everyone to sit, and motioned for us to stand and face each other.  His hands found mine, and my fingers slid around his, holding on as tightly as I could. We’d contemplated writing our own vows, but ultimately had decided those sentiments would be ours to keep private, and to stick with the traditional vows in church.  The only thing we both agreed we didn’t care for was the “till death do us part”, and so we chose to change it to “for the rest of our lives”. I spoke my vows first, my heart beating out of my chest, repeating the age-old words that Father Patrick murmured to help us along:

 I, Emily Grace, take you, Edward Christopher, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish for the rest of our lives, according to God’s holy law. This is my solemn vow.  

 As I finished speaking, I saw Ed swallow hard, the emotion on his face threatening to spill over.  I couldn’t help myself as I gently reached up with my hand to caress his face, mouthing the words “Forever…” so only he could see.  His face split into that brilliant smile, and his lips formed the words that always followed, “…and ever…”  He adjusted his stance as if to steady himself and gripped my hands tight as began his vows.  “I, Edward Christopher, take you, Emily Grace…”

Every word he spoke was fervent, passionate, and clear as a bell, there was not a shake or stammer to voice, not one trace of nerves. We never broke eye contact, his clear sea-blue eyes fixed on mine with such devotion my tummy danced.  I could lose myself in those eyes every time I looked in them.  When the last word left his mouth, he exhaled, and lifted my hand to his mouth, brushing his lips across my knuckles, his eyes crinkling as the biggest smile spread across his face.  I tried so hard to pay attention to the pastor’s words, but looking into Ed’s eyes, holding his hands, the smell of his cologne wafting over me, I was just lost in him.  Father Patrick began to read the passage that would have us exchange our rings, and suddenly, I saw Ed’s little goddaughter running up to us, waving the ring pillow frantically with a grin on her face.  My heart just melted as Ed knelt down to meet her, kissing her cheek as he palmed our rings.  She threw her arms around his neck with a squeal and he squeezed her right back, a gigantic grin on his face as he lifted her right up into the air in a bear hug before he put her back down.  She skipped off to find her mum, and the chorus of Awwww’s that echoed through the church definitely included every of us standing at the altar.  Her dad, Jovel, was beaming and trying not to fall to pieces laughing, and even Stu had a grin on his face.  It was a perfect moment.  Oh my Teddy, he was going to be the most amazing Daddy one day.      

His hands found mine again, and we bowed our heads as a prayer was spoken over the rings.  Father Patrick placed Ed’s ring in my hand, and asked me to repeat after him:

 Edward, I give you this ring

as a symbol of my vow. With all that I am and all that I have

I honour you, in the name of God.

 I let my fingers quickly brush across his knuckles as I repeated these words, and I couldn’t help but bounce lightly on my toes and lift my shoulders in excitement as I slid that simple gold band onto his finger.  I looked up at him, and grinned, and the look on his face as gazed down at his finger. It was just so adorable, like he couldn’t quite believe it to be true.  Ed was handed my ring, and he gently slid his hand underneath mine and lifted my hand to his lips, kissing it softly before repeating those same traditional words to me; “Emily, I give you this ring as a symbol of my vow…”   I’d chosen a simple, delicate gold band that matched Ed’s, and we both let out deep, shaky breaths as he finally slid it onto my finger; It sparkled in the light, and I loved how it nestled perfectly against my grandmother’s ring.  Neither of us could control the smiles on our faces as we clasped our newly ringed hands, and it took every ounce of control I had not to grab his face and kiss him right then and there.  The pastor lifted his hands and recited a beautiful blessing over us and our marriage, and then together with our family and friends, we spoke The Lord’s Prayer.  His face beaming, Father Patrick had us join our right hands, and then raised his hands, uttering the words we’d been waiting over a year to finally hear.

Edward and Emily have joined themselves to each other by solemn vows, 

signified by the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of a ring.

I declare, in the name of God, that they are husband and wife.

Those whom God has joined together let no one put asunder.

I thought Ed’s face would split in half his smile was so big, his eyes were dancing, and he literally was bouncing on his feet waiting for the signal that he could finally, finally kiss me. I kept pressing my lips together while I squeezed his hands so tightly, wanting to wrap my arms around him and never, ever let him go.  I was trembling and giddy and impatient, and I truly thought I might actually burst if I couldn’t kiss my husband right that very minute.  I fully expected the traditional words from the church ceremony when Father Patrick opened his mouth, but his eyes had an extra twinkle when he turned to Ed and proclaimed “Lad, what are you waiting for??”  

Before I could even breathe, his lips were on mine, a kiss so full of love and promise and adoration, and he was everything and that kiss was the only thing in my world.  I cupped his cheeks with my hands, kissing him back with more fervour and promise than I could ever have thought possible, loving how his lips were just made for mine.  I could feel his arms lift me up under bum, and I squealed and locked my arms around his neck as he spun me around and kissed me again, like he just couldn’t get enough.  My eyes filled with happy tears at his jubilant expression.  I suddenly was aware of everyone in the church clapping and cheering and hollering for us, and I couldn’t stop laughing as Ed set me back on my feet, and grabbed my hand, lifting it in the air with what I can only describe as a triumphant expression on his face.  He was my husband, I was his WIFE, I couldn’t believe it, and we were married.  He was irrevocably mine and I was NEVER going to let him go, ever.  He laced his fingers through mine and led me up to the altar, followed by my sister and Matthew, where we officially signed our wedding register, and posed for some photos. The exuberance that was positively radiating from his face was incredible, it lit his face up like an angel, and I couldn’t stop looking at him.  As Matthew finished signing his name on the register, I felt a soft, fuzzy cheek press against mine, and his warm breath tickle my ear as I heard him whisper softly so no one else could hear.  “Love you forever and ever, Wife…” He pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed my fingertips softly, without taking his eyes off me.  We finished with the signing, and Ed helped lead back to the steps at the altar, where we faced towards our friends and family, hands and hearts intertwined, ready to be introduced as a married couple.  Father Patrick ended our ceremony with a beautiful blessing and the sign of the cross, before he raised his arms once more and announced with great enthusiasm and gusto;

“I’m proud and pleased to introduce to you to the new Mr. and Mrs. Edward Sheeran!”  

Cheers, applause and roars of excitement filled the church as everyone jumped to their feet, and I took that perfect opportunity to sneak one more kiss with my new husband before we headed back down that aisle.  It was a sweet, perfect kiss, and I loved that even with my eyes closed I could tell he was grinning as big as I was.  The processional music swelled, and I pulled back, ready to walk down the steps and back up the aisle, this time as husband and wife.  I noticed the look on Ed’s face before I even had a chance to move, and before I could guess what he was up to (I KNEW that face!), he’d swept me up in his arms and was down those steps!  I threw my head back and wrapped one arm around his neck, while I lifted my bouquet in the air with the other, waving it in celebration!  I kicked my legs up, waving to everyone while I shook with giggles. What better way to start our journey, then in the strong, sexy arms of my husband?

Once we made it to the back of church, we were supposed to head outside to greet our guests and take pictures, but all I wanted was just 5 minutes alone with my new husband.  I looked down the hall, and looked at Ed with a grin, pointing to the door of the bridal suite I’d left behind not so long ago. “Just for a minute…” I whispered in his ear, biting my lip. “I want my Teddy all for myself, just for a moment…” He dropped a kiss on my lips and nodded enthusiastically. “Hell yes!” He murmured with a grin, setting me down on my feet, and then gripping my hand and fairly yanking me down the hall into that room, slamming the door behind us.  It just the two of us, no one else, and I wanted to just absorb every bit of my handsome, sexy, adorable new husband before I had to share him with the world.  

“Jesus…” he murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist.  “Em, you’re so goddamn beautiful.  And you are ALL mine forever. And ever. And…”  His words faded out as his hands found my hair and his lips caught mine, softly at first as we savoured our first embrace alone as husband and wife.  I locked my arms around his neck, pulling him close and loving the sensation of the tickly hairs of his beard against my jaw.  He tasted so good and his lips were so soft, and the kiss deepened as I tried, somehow, to absorb every bit him.  His hands traced their way up my body, his fingertips leaving fiery tingles in their wake, from my hips to my waist to the curve of my jaw, as his hands finally found my face.  His kisses, lingering, deep kisses so full of passion and promise, they stole my breath and lit me on fire.  My hands wound their way into his hair, those silky soft curls at his neck begging to be tugged.  His tongue begged access to my mouth and oh, God, any self-control I had was slipping at the fervour and intensity of his lips, his tongue tasting every bit of me and me trying to taste every bit of him.  I felt his hands leave my face and his fingers trail back down my body, down my arm, along the curve of my hip and then his hands were gently cupping my ass as he pulled the length of my body as tightly against his as possible, leaving not the smallest space between our bodies. It was the sudden feeling of his hardening length against my leg that suddenly jolted me back to reality, reminding me that as badly as my body wanted me to hike my skirt up and consummate our marriage right then and there, we couldn’t, not in church, not with our families and friends waiting outside the door.  Tonight would be the one of most incredible nights of our lives, I could wait for just a bit longer.

“Teddy…” I gasped, breaking away from his kiss with a giggle. I dropped a kiss on his nose.  “”We have to behave. There’s about 100 people waiting on us out there and I don’t think a catholic church is the place for us to be….well…”  

Ed’s face was flushed, but he was giggling too as he straightened up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Just got a bit carried away with my wife, didn’t I?” he said with a grin on his face.  “Guess I can behave for a while longer if I have to…”  I bit my lip and tried not to giggle as I noticed him adjusting his pants while he took a deep breath, trying to, um, calm himself down before we faced the masses.   I smoothed out my dress, checked my hair and touched up my lipstick, making sure that I did not, in fact, look like I just came out of heated make out session.  

“Shall we go, Husband?” I said teasingly, lacing my fingers through his as I pulled him through the door. “I am ready to be adored, worshipped and praised by the crowds!”  As we set off down the hall, I felt his soft breath in my ear, and it sent prickles of electricity through my body as his lips caught the soft skin under my jaw.

His voice was low, teasing, as he murmured softly so only I could hear, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you’re wearing under that dress, Love.  You will be worshipped and adored. All. Night. Long….”

To Be Continued.... Xox

*MASTERLIST HERE*

[toddmichaelrogers]

Letter to You

At an abandoned lot Meagen pulled out a picture, which she had glued onto a card. In the picture it was the two of us looking six years younger; though her face is covered in a raggedy cloth elephant mask, and mine is wearing a home-cut eye mask with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth. In the picture (though it is hard to tell) it is also two nights before Halloween, and we are spending our last night just as friends.

Inside the card it said happy anniversary.

*

Zach and I spent the last month mixing the EFFORTS EP. We kind of have an unspoken rule that the weirder the idea, the more we should pursue it. That’s kind of how the EP started as 3 songs and ended up being just 1 long track. If we a have a genre, I would have to call it ‘Spook Punk’.

It should be debilitating working on so many different music projects, but at this point, they're all feeding into one another. It’s taken the pressure off of my so-called perfectionism; something that has nearly threatened to destroy me at all times. (I wasn’t even meant to be writing a blog today. I came to the library to ‘fix’ the next Spell Saga deck--and was surprised to find nothing wrong with the thing. I’m getting better at catching myself.)

I can’t tell you how many times Zach has had to put up with me asking if we can “redo” a vocal. Our most this is a single song, May You Absorb All Evil took almost two years to get finished because I am a fucking idiot. But it’s done now, because Zach spent weeks fixing and mixing it through a giant board.

It’s on the EP, along with some other songs that I felt worked well as a warning. And that’s really how I’m choosing to think about the whole thing--our EP is a warning to those who are not prepared to hear 33 years of pent-up frustration. It was not fun growing up in a musical family without knowing I could do it. (A reverse Potter/Dursleys scenario, I can assure you).

I am the muggle. That’s a good song title.

But it was equally horrendous spending two decades in a city known to the rest of the world as “Music City”. Every person here looks and sounds the same. Everyone born here thinks they are chosen/deserving/special, or they just showed up from the midwest hoping some other band would find them (and their talent) like a black hole pulls in light.

Making art to get fucked or get attention makes me feel like I’ve just witnessed an assault in some parking lot. I want to break windows and arms and scream at people. “Don’t ever come back to my wal-mart!” but this is music city, and everyone around me is assaulting each other in a circle jerk while I just stand there wondering if someone’s going to help me carry these groceries. “You are ruining Black Friday!” I might scream, or “you are ruining the basis of the very institution you are attempting to crawl down into.”

I mean, make that money. But fuck.

Anyway the EFFORTS EP “May You Absorb All Evil” will be released in the (season to be determined) of next year. The full length album “I Bought You a Coffin” is already recorded and will follow shortly thereafter.

*

One of my other projects, Beset., is nearly finished with the DEMOS for our first LP “There Are Places They Can Get You.” You can actually listen to some of those HERE.

The Weapon and I try to get to these every Monday, so by year’s end we should be ready to start recording the actual tracks. We just need to fix this latest one--we did that thing where you start recording ideas before ever playing a finished song, and you end up with a mess--but hopefully “We Brought Weapons” will shine as bright as the others once we crack it.

And I’m really excited about the only song we haven’t recorded, “Make Peace With The Promise of Failure”. Not only is this the first thing he has brought to me first on guitar without me showing him lyric, but the chorus is fucking amazing (he thinks it’s a bridge, but I got a reallllll good feelin’ on this one).

*

Geoffrey W. Osborne and I are trying to finish and release the first ever DAMNSEL & THE EUTH GROUP EP for a New Year’s Day release. Which is a fitting day actually, as the last song on the album is called “Baby New Year”, something I wrote while listening to an old keyboard piece of his.

when I conquer death

when I have nothing left

I was Baby New Year

I was Baby New Year

so drink and be of cheer

good times were never here

middle of the road

new teeth and broken bones

I’ve known every fear

the end is almost near

when I mend my bones

they will call me home

I was Baby New Year

I was Baby New Year

That’s something about Geoffrey’s playing that I like, it’s easy for me to write lyrics to it. We did the same thing on the EFFORTS EP with a little interstitial song called Ringtone Money.

How we gonna leave

When we don’t know where to go

I got that ringtone money

And it sounds like solid gold

When you look at me

You look like you saw a ghost

How we gonna leave

When we don’t know where to go

For me, writing lyrics or changing something at the last minute is one of the best parts about making things. It’s like pushing a piece into a puzzle quickly while the puzzle is being framed. We did it again for a weird hidden track on the May You Absorb All Evil EP

wait another minute

I’ll get my revolver

you can be a skeleton

just give me a holler

*

I have one more musical project now. So far it’s just a name, an album title, and some demos. Also I made a cover because that’s how I do ma shit.

*

Meagen’s out of town for Thanksgiving. I spent the entire day playing Spell Saga and it meant something to me. Four years ago I was lost and sore; I had just failed to get the game funded on Kickstarter. I felt a sense of real shame about the whole thing. Like I had returned from a war I had single handedly lost. Maybe that’s insensitive. But after a year of planning the thing it was a real blow. So to be holding the prototypes four years later and playing through it one final time before it goes to print was really special.

But wait--you ask. Didn’t the Kickstarter succeed a year later, in the year of our lord 2014--and haven’t the cards been printed and are even now waiting in a Hong Kong warehouse?!

Yes.

But it’s been three years, so I took my own money and printed the next Deck so everyone could have it for free (Spell Saga is a game of multiple decks, like chapters in a book). Also I redid the packaging, because I am, in the end, a perfectionist.

So I spent all day playing through Deck 2: The Forest, making sure no problems could be seen upon them cards. And next week I tell the good people of Panda Game Manufacturing to go for it, set that shit to print. Here is a lot of pics I took of the play through.

*

Making things often means you are filled to the tips-of-your-toes with a sort of psychic horror--the unending logic that you are doing your best to prove on a chalkboard in front of the entire world that only you can solve an equation that proves you yourself are a fucking hack.

I often stare off into the distance like a farmer hearing a gunshot in a world where only he and his daughter were left alive.

The other day I was struck by the sort of thinking that makes all those bad thoughts go away.

My deepest concern was that while playing through Deck Two, I had a problem. Most of the cards I drew were of no use to me. Now, if you design a game, and while playing it, you DON’T use most of the pieces, that is a fucking issue. Except...because I am ME...and by that I mean WEIRD (see any paragraph above) this is not useful play test information. 

I don’t play games well. In fact, if someone plays against me in a game--even one that I MADE, I am bound to lose. The one exception I can even remember is winning a round of dat classic Mario Party at Cousin Lauren’s apartment, three years ago, while she was busy illustrating the very cards I was now concerned about.

Anyway, I stepped out of the shower the other morning and finally pinpointed what was causing the astral sand to be pulled out from beneath my feet--what the current was that I was stuck thinking about:

In Deck One: The Highlands the cards are meant to each do a specific thing, almost on their own. Some are necessary and some are fun, but they each sort of help you in their own weird way. In Deck Two: The Forest, this is different. There are several cards that need to be combined for the rules or effect of them to take place. That means a lot of time you’re left with a bunch of random pieces you don’t care about<-----my concern. Now, if I was GOOD at games, I would play with the cards I was dealt, instead of stubbornly waiting for the ones that I want. I know that. I understand it. And though that knowledge does not help me play any better (for I am indeed stubborn) It does help me tremendously while designing. Because I can imagine how other people will play, and how they will react to the pieces I have given them. In this instance, with us about to go to print and there being NOTHING I can change too drastically (the game is, after all, designed, and the deck itself was already redesigned almost entirely from the digital PnP version we released three years ago), I was definitely feeling a bit shaky. Until I stepped out of that shower, and realized the solution lay in how I treated the next part of the game, Deck Three: The Caves.

I won’t go into it further. But playing that DECK is going to feel REAL GOOD.

*

I will not talk about my day job--which is a night job. But the hours are horrendous, and I see myself now as a chain anchored to my home and swinging in a circle until I can destroy everything or fly off into space.

My childhood was not as bad as some, and it was worse than others. I chose then to believe I was suffering, so what difference is it if I’m now working hard to make art generated by those younger woes? Life continues.

*

The Novel.

I didn’t start playing music until i was 30 years old. But The Novel I started even years before that continues to surprise me more than anything else.

It is a terrible cost, a novel.

I fear it will continue to consume me, like a star going supernova in my head and eating up all the time I could spend on other ideas. And I fear that I would let it.

I have been sober for about eight months now. And I often feel okay about it, but the desire is there; a nasty trick of the mind that makes me feel like I was never an addict, and that it would really be something, almost a performance piece really, if I drank now in front of those that know me as a ‘survivor of The Thirst’. I wake up from dreams where I drink and can’t stop, and that disappointment I feel upon waking is pretty much the battery of my unexpected willpower. But I feel that desire, and I feel it with the novel as well. Destroy Everything and let it wither in ruin, so i might survive. And most days I kneel down and say “yes. Of course.” and “nothing matters but the ten year slow motion orgasm of making you.”

I had decided after years of start-stopping a second draft to just Do The God Damn Thing. I started on New Year’s Day 2016 and rewrote from the beginning to what I hoped was the end. But I got lost. A lot. I got stuck redoing the same things over and over again. Parts of the story changed. Good. Now it was a 2.5 draft, right? That’s fine. It’s for the best.

But I continued in my toil. And time passed. After a year I resigned myself to whatever life the novel would let me live; often sneaking away for just an hour a day before or between some grueling job or errand of adulthood.

This past Summer something clicked. It was that thing that always happens, where I’m worried about something until I realize only I can fix it, and the worry was only me being smart. Less a warning and more like a ...pre...answer?

I wrote a new beginning to the story that night I think. Clicking in the dim light of the living room like someone who had just discovered words. This led to other unexpected turns in the story...a brand new sixty page interlude in the middle of the thing...a whole section of plot points and chapters was also added--things and moments I had culled from a side story written years ago that I felt sort of circled the novel. Now it was part of it. Everything began to take shape into something that...I started writing this story in some form or another a decade ago, and the shape it became was something Unknown.

Then I kept getting stuck again--still moving forward I became unable to push through the white snow of blank expanse before me.

The whisper that was not a warning was there again. I would have to break the entire rule of the rewrite, and go back to the beginning and start over (madness) and not only this, I would have to change the entire tyle I was writing in (horror).

But I did it.

I looked at my life and it’s work and realized I was not writing the way I wanted to--the way I was meant to. I was living and dying in the predefined alignments of those who had come before me. Nothing I make is normal, why should my writing be any different.

I went back to the beginning and began a process which has led to work I truly feel terrified and sure of. What more could I ask?

Now the cards are going to print somewhere in Hong Kong.

I will have four separate recording projects throughout December.

The novel continues and will be finished sometime next year.

And I don’t think Meagen and I have ever been better.

I cannot enjoy any of it. Not the way I believe someone should. I am not normal. My enjoyment comes from everything spinning, and the sound of myself whispering a thousand little would-be-warnings as I navigate through it all.

And I have become good at it, maybe. I have done this a long time. I have mastered the act of handling some shit. And now it’s time for a new sort of thing. The plates and whispers are starting to combine into something else, and there is a something Unknown on the horizon...

Unknown but for a name: SUB(URBAN)HEATHEN.

-mE.