#i do like the snake head on the arm tho ngl

[rect-bibi]

i still need to get chenyu vale out of my head so here is my attempt at herblord (totally not changsheng lmaoooooooo whaaaaaaaat)

below is a version with sliiiightly darker skin and some lazy "concept art" i did!! (the concept art skin tone was closer to the drawin above just i changed it to see the white of the dress and the hair better cause it was lineless so ya)

[imnotevenhere9]

If you're still doing Matchups, could I please get one for Lotr and The Hobbit please? Thanks so much!

🌱 She/They Nonbinary // Bisexual // Autistic and Chronically Ill with a bonus Anxiety Disorder // 18 years old at the moment

🌱 I know a lot of Home Remedies and Superstitions for like no reason. For instance, did you know that Raspberry Tea helps with Menstrual Pain, or that knocking on wood invokes the protection of the tree spirit and that’s why it’s said to give you luck? I don’t know why I know that, but I do.

🌱 Winning a fight is on my bucket list, but it has to be for a good reason. I’m not one to just pick fights for the sake of fighting, and I’m actually pretty conflict-averse, so I need to actually have a solid reason for throwing hands. But I’ve always wanted to do it for some reason.

🌱 I often get the inexplicable urge to bake something, so my loved ones just kinda end up with surprise brownies and zucchini bread at random. This habit has only worsened over Quarantine, of course.

🌱 I really like studying Witchcraft for some reason. The first spell I ever performed was a Healing Spell to help my friend who was sick with Crohn's Disease. Thirty minutes after performing the ritual, I got a text saying he felt a lot better and he was released from the hospital a couple days later, so I guess it must’ve worked. 😁

🌱 My love language is definitely gift giving. I’m pretty cheap, but I’m also an artist, so when push comes to shove I’ll just make something for someone when I like them. I pay very close attention to what people like because it gives me more ideas on how to interact with them. I’m essentially a large, flightless Crow. You were nice, so you get something shiny. But though I like giving gifts to others, I’m not very materialistic at all. I prefer to be practical when it comes to things, and I get very nervous when spending money.

🌱 I LOVE going outside and getting messy. Playing in the mud, getting soaked in the rain, I’m the type to go outside and come back home covered in dirt and twigs. It’s just really fun to me.

🌱My Dad’s a really good cook and I seem to have inherited that gene. He actually has me make dinner whenever we’re having eggs because I always cook them better than he does.

🌱 I’ve always wanted to be a really good gardener. My dream house is just covered in flowers and plants and such. I want to live in a Greenhouse, basically.

🌱 I have a habit of giggling to myself just by remembering something funny that happened, even if it was a couple years ago. I also laugh when I do something stupid, because I find my flaws and shortcomings funny for the most part. I love to laugh with people, but never at them.

🌱 You know the sort of “Girl Next Door” trope? That’s my type. Like the guy in the dorm just down the hall, or the girl in my neighborhood who I casually flirt with. I’m a sucker for cute little interactions like that, so it’s not too much of a surprise that I always fall for people like that. I never forget people I meet on the road, and often find myself hoping to meet up with them again someday.

🌱 I know way too much about Spirits and Fae. My favorite book is called ‘The Encyclopedia of Spirits’ and it shows you how to contact and interact with a ton of different deities and spirits, and I’m addicted to reading it. It’s the best.

🌱 I’m basically like a tiny, less-impressive Aragorn. I love travelling on foot, getting messy outside, I was kind of a Horse Girl as a kid ngl, I’ve always wanted to be a knight or king of some sort, chances are that I haven’t bathed in awhile, and I too would pine for a hot elf girl for literal years on end.

🌱 I always have to have some sort of weight on me to feel comfortable, because of my Autism. That usually takes the form of a large backpack stuffed with books and snacks, or a big jacket. However, my muscles are always pretty stiff and achy, so that does kinda backfire too.

🌱My closest friends say I give off “Dwobbit” vibes. That’s a ½ Dwarf and ½ Hobbit btw. I’m around 4’ 10” tall, I don’t shave, I love crafting and art, I live in the Mountains, I’m tomboyish but I also love gardening and can be a bit of a homebody, I love going barefoot, etc.

🌱 I really love History, Folklore, Mythology and Fairy Tales. My favorite is the Irish myth of Oisín in Tir Na Nog. Look it up if you don’t know it, it’s a fantastic story. But I also appreciate myths from all sorts of different cultures, like the myth of Annapurna in India or the tale of Princess Kaguya in Japan. Did you know that in Mesopotamian Mythology, Nonbinary People were said to be given the gift of prophecy and magic by the goddess Ishtar? And that a recurring figure in Slavic Folklore is the Snake King, who’s just a big ol’ snake with a doofy looking crown? I love it.

🌱 I’m an Aquarius, INFP and 4w5 if that means anything. For reference, characters who are also 4w5 INFPs include Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice), Wirt (Otgw), Frankenstein’s Monster, Luna Lovegood (HP), Napstablook (Undertale), The Phantom of the Opera, and Celeste from Animal Crossing. That kinda tells you a lot about me, doesn’t it?

🌱 I’ve been growing my hair out, so it’s getting pretty long too. It’s always messy, and I both use a lot of conditioner and it naturally curls when wet, so I basically end up having a very fluffy mane with a lot of stray hairs and weird curls. Also, fun fact, I never learned how to braid because I’ve only really made friends with boys and I have very poor hand-eye coordination when it comes to such things. And my hair is so thin and fluffy that it’s impossible to tame anyways, so the best I can do is put it in a ponytail, since I’m basically incapable of doing anything fancier than that. When worst comes to worse, I have plenty of hats though.

🌱 I have really pale skin that’s always covered in moles, freckles (especially on my arms) and lots of scabs. It’s also getting warmer out, so chances are that I have a farmer’s tan. I have blue eyes and glasses.

🌱 I have a habit of seeing shadows move out of the corners of my eyes, frequently mistaking them for people or animals, but when I turn to look there’s nothing there. I’ve gotten my eyesight checked multiple times, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary, so it’s either a lack of sleep, or the Fae are getting antsy with me. Probably the former of course, but part of me would like to believe the

Oof, sorry that description was so long! I really hope you don't mind. Thanks so much in advance!!

A/n: I made it really wholesome (at least in my eyes), so I hope you like it! ^_^

Masterlist • Prompts • S/o match ups • Taglist

S/o from The Hobbit: Kili! 

will take your hands and kiss all the moles and freckles when you two are alone

listens to you talking about Fairy Tales while hugging you from behind and plays with your hair

likes to fall asleep with you on his chest, so he can plent small kisses on your head

loves everything you bake, it doesn’t matter if he heard of it or not, he always gets so excited to try what you baked

gives the best massages. He will prepare a bubble bath, help you stretch, whatever makes your achy muscles hurt less

small peaks behind your shoulder when you're

S/o from LOTR: Arwen!

adores your hair. Like literally. She loves to braid them, brush them, run her fingers through them, basically everything you can think of

please share everything you know and learnes about Home Remedies and Superstitions. She loves listening to you talk, it doesn't matter if she already knows all of it, she just wants to listen to you talk about it

your random giggles? In her eyes the cutest thing ever. Just hearing you giggling brightens her day so much

will probably go outside and get messy with you, because she loves to see you happy

gets shy when you give her gifts, she loves them all so much tho

will get you different books about Witchcraft, so you can learn and practice more!

[fishoutofcamelot]

Yves Montand's les feuilles mortes is Merwen as Gwen ages and becomes old, memories flitting in and out of her consciousness as Merlin tends to her last moments on her death bed, her hand caressing his cheek as she says the final goodbye. Merlin clutches into her hand tight, his shoulders tremored as he sobs, losing his last friend and lover.

Dude it’s MY job to make people sad about Merwen! If you keep this up, I’ll be out of a job!!! And I can’t afford that in this tragic fandom economy.

Ngl tho, you’re absolutely right about the vibes. Although if I might add, I also kinda get a reincarnation vibe from it too.

The scene: France, 1947. WWII is finally over. Merlin, or Michon Epinette as he goes by now, is walking down a wet cobblestone street. His face is sullen. As he walks, hands stuffed into his pockets and head bowed, flashbacks are interjected into his mind. Brief snippets of his time in Camelot - meeting Arthur, hanging out with the knights, saving the kingdom. But above all, his time with Gwen. All the memories and laughs and tears they shared together. 

The flashbacks increase in frequency the further along he comes, only now they’re all focusing on Arthur’s death, Leon and Gaius and Percival’s deaths, until only Merlin and Gwen remain. Until Gwen ages and dies too, until Merlin is left weeping over her dead body. But in none of the memories do any of their faces appear. The faces and appearances of his loved ones are just some of the many things he’s forgotten after all these years, much to his distress.

Merlin shakes his head to force the memories away, and enters a bar. It’s pretty empty. Everyone is fairly quiet aside from the clanking of glasses and occasional murmurs here and there - and on the stage, a slow, morose jazz performance.

He sits down at the bar and gets a drink, watching the performance and trying not to cry over how deeply the mournful lyrics speak to him. It’s the 1400-year anniversary of Gwen’s death, and it stings just as intensely now as it did back then.

The woman singing wears a yellow dress that is elegant yet simple, back exposed and black gloves deftly holding the microphone. Her own eyes are tearful, she herself affected by her own lyrics - Les Feuilles Mortes, now that he thinks about it - and if not for some impressive self-control then her elaborate makeup might have been running.

But looking at her face, her dark, gentle face and deep brown eyes, a most profound sense of deja vu settles into his gut. As if he should know her somehow. 

But Merlin has lived for many, many years, and has met many, many people. If he’s met her before, he doesn’t remember, and likely never will. And besides, it was probably nothing important.

Still, the clenching of his heart pulls him to her. As if something terrible will happen, as if he’ll suffer a loss worse than he can ever imagine, if he doesn’t hold her in his arms this very moment.

Instead of sweeping her up and never letting go, Merlin waits for the song to end, politely applauds, and then greets her as she sits down at the bar stool next to him. Another performer walks onto the stage in her place.

They speak in French as she asks if she’s seen him before, a puzzled look creasing her features. He says that he’s just got one of those faces, and reaches out his hand to shake hers. He introduces himself using his current alias, Michon Epinette, but his ribcage screams at him to tell the truth. To tell her that his name is Merlin. He ignores the impulse.

She calls herself Guinevere Laurent, and oh how his heart aches at the familiarity of it. Another Guinevere, just as kind and soft as his own had once been. He commends her performance, admits that it had made him cry, and she tells him it has that effect on people - especially those who have recently suffered a loss. 

Ms. Laurent asks him who he’s lost, then gets flustered as she apologizes for being so forward. He instead tells her that he lost a great deal of friends. Everyone he’s ever known and loved is dead now.

“The war?” she surmises.

“Yes,” he says, because while they’re not thinking about the same war it’s still true.

She sips from her cocktail glass. “I lost a great deal of friends to the war as well. My brother Elouan, my best friend Lazare, and my father Thomas. Normandy, all of them.”

He shrugs. “If they had to die at war, at least it was Normandy.” Then, flustering - “Oh no, I’m so sorry! That was so insensitive of me. I didn’t mean -”

Ms. Laurent - Guinevere - shakes her head. “It’s fine. You’re right, though. Normandy is...heroic. As good a place to die as any. I just...I just wish they hadn’t had to die in the first place.”

Merlin has nothing to say to that, so he doesn’t. And the two of them sit there at the bar counter, nursing their cocktails - which are, coincidentally, the exact same - and ruminate over their respective losses. Guinevere Laurent is likely thinking about the second world war, and Merlin is thinking about Camlann. And both of them are thinking about after. What happens next. Where they go from here, when everyone they care about is six feet under.

While the similarity in names is likely a coincidence, Merlin can’t help but feel drawn to this Guinevere too. She speaks and acts and feels so much like the one he lost that his chest burns with sorrow. But also, perhaps, with something else too. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

Merlin ventures out his broken heart and cracks a joke, trying to lighten her spirits. For the life of him, he will never be able to remember what the joke is, but it does its job in making a tentative smile splash onto her face. 

Warily, with an uneven and rough voice, she murmurs out a joke of her own. He won’t ever be able to remember that one, either, but he laughs just as quietly and genuinely as she did.

After an hour their laughter has transformed into something loud and unending, and it fills up the entire bar with an orange, jovial mood. Other people are talking amongst themselves with more liveliness than they had before, and now Merlin and Guinevere are not the only people smiling in here. Even the scrunched-faced bartender is cracking a grin.

It feels familiar. It feels like he’s been in this situation before - laughing with someone as loudly as possible to chase away their mutual pains, until their desperation turns into sincerity and sincerity into passion. 

For one glorious evening, Merlin allows himself to exist in a fantasy world where Gwen isn’t dead, but sitting right next to him. It’s weird and wrong, for sure, but he can’t help pretending that Guinevere Laurent and Guinevere Pendragon are the same person.

The crowd raucously, drunkenly cries out to Guinevere for an encore, begging her to give them another song. She shakes her head and says she’s done for the night, and all her songs are too sad anyway, but the crowd remains insistent. 

Merlin nudges her shoulder with his own. “You can do this, Gwen.”

And for some reason, just locking eyes with him is enough for her to acquiesce.

She dusts off her dress and reluctantly shuffles onto the stage once more, and the current performer steps aside to let her have the microphone.

Guinevere discusses something with the people manning the instruments, and after a moment they appear to reach an agreement of some kind. 

As the music swells to life, she casts one final glance at Merlin. He nods encouragingly, and she nods back, then closes her eyes and begins.

“Je suis seul ce soir,” she sings in a soulful cadence.

He loses himself in the music, lets the medieval nostalgia consume him like a snake devouring a field mouse - and just as the snake’s venom strikes the mouse, so too does a heartbreaking realization strike Merlin.

He called her Gwen. He referred to Guinevere Laurent as Gwen, his Gwen.

But she’s not. She’s not his Gwen.

His Gwen is dead, and she’s not coming back.

Suddenly, the whole world flares harshly at him. The lights are too modern and bright, the music is too loud and lively, the crowd is too busy and young. And Guinevere Laurent stands on the stage, eyes closed as she sings from the heart. 

And it’s not Gwen. It’s not Gwen, it’s not Gwen, it’s not Gwen, and the reminder of this truth is a slap to the face. Gwen didn’t dress like that, didn’t speak that language, didn’t sing in French bars or drink cheap cocktails. 

Gwen died. She died in pain, and she died gasping for air, and she died pushing him away in fear because her senile mind could not recall who he was. She died afraid, surrounded by faces and places she didn’t recognize, tearfully asking for a brother who had been dead for decades.

But even despite with all the differences, Guinevere Laurent looks so horribly similar to Gwen, back when she was young and innocent. The similarities, the memories, are enough to shatter whatever shaky pieces of his heart he had managed to cobble together.

Merlin presses a trembling fist to his mouth as tears pierce their way through his eyes, clouding his vision and sapping his body of any resolve it might have had. 

He fumbles out of the bar to get away from it all, lest the agony bubble out of him like blood. The cold air stings his cheeks, but the bitterness of it provides a momentary distraction from the memories left behind in the bar.

Determined to find some other hole-in-the-wall at which to drink and forget forget forget, Merlin stumbles away, not even bothering to wipe away the curtain of tears shuttering his face.

But back in the bar, Guinevere Laurent begins to remember things. As the melody holds up her heart, as the fondness that ‘Michon’ had born within her chest lifts her ever higher, flashes of a distant life spark in her mind. 

A boy with an impish grin, stuck in the stocks but still shaking her hand. A young man with a colourful scarf, sitting on a hill and braiding flowers into her hair. A friend, back pressed to hers as they both hold swords and fight to defend their kingdom. A companion, holding her wrinkled hands and helping her get up the stairs.

The name whispers into her mind. Merlin.

But as the final notes of Seule Ce Soir  rumble to an end, as Guinevere opens her eyes in the hopes of soaking in the rays of her old friend’s presence, she finds no sign of Michon - Merlin - and instead a vacancy in his place. 

Thanks for the ask! <3

[girlbabyvelez]

Hasta La Muerte // Chapter Five

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, ya know murder, sexual harassment (not from one of our boys tho), and thats it??

@cnchoe-imagines (aka the best person ever) made me this movie poster for Hasta La Muerte. And I am soooo grateful. Thank you for this amazing bomb poster Tati. I literally love it with my whole ass heart. So please go check our her blog and give her love (im crying) I love you so  much Tati.

His dark eyes focused on your picture, looking over your features as he thought about his next move. He needed to do something to you that would scare you and a little threat wouldn't hurt you. Santiago stood up from his desk, one his hands picking up the picture of you before looking up at the two men in front of him.

"¿Cuál es el plan, jefe?" Paulo asks, linking his hands in front of his body ready to hear the order of his boss. Santiago looked between Sergio and Paulo for a moment, making sure he picked the right men for the job, then looked down at your picture before throwing it back onto the desk.

"Warn her. We need to scare her, and warn Richard not to mess with us." Santiago orders.

~

You step back into the room, gently closing the door behind you. You spin on your heels and see Christopher, his back leaning against the head of the bed and his fingers pulling at Aaliyah's stuffed animal. He was aware of your presence but he kept his focus on the toy in front of him.

"She has the cutest laugh." He whispered with a smile. You shake your head and let out a laugh, making your way over to the bed.

"She does." You reply. You were surprised how good Christopher was with Aaliyah, mostly because of everything he did with the mafia. "You treat her like she's your own," You say, crawling up on the bed until you were able to rest your head on his legs. Your words cause him to pause his movements, taking that moment to look down at you before shifting his focus back to the toy.

"I wish she was," He mumbled, hoping you didn't hear him but you heard the words loud and clear. You freeze in his lap and think of your next words, you didn't want to put either of you in this situation.

"You want kids?" You ask him, lifting yourself from his lap and into a sitting position. Christopher looks up at you and drops the toy on the bed. He grabs onto your hands and looks at you, oblivious to the fear and dread running through your body. You couldn't raise a child in the dangerous life that Christopher lived, they would be destined to follow in his footsteps and you knew how hard it was for you to get out of that life.

"Yeah. I can't wait until I have a little baby Velez in my arms. But I want three kids and all of them would be the perfect babies." He answers. You noticed the smile he got when he said he wanted a little baby Velez and your heart shattered for him. "¿Y tú?"

"Chris..." You begin. You honestly didn't know where to begin, you wanted to make this deal work for your brother but you couldn't destroy Chris' dream either. You opened your mouth to finish responding to his question, break the truth to him when you heard the light knocks on the door and Aaliyah's sobs. You let out a sigh of relief now that you had time to gather your thoughts, getting off the bed and opening the door. Aaliyah stood there with tears rolling down her face and her arms outstretched towards you. You scooped up the young girl in your arms and rub her back for comfort.

"Papi," She cried out, her head resting on your shoulders, your heart broke for her.

"He'll be here soon mamas. Want to sleep with me?" You ask her, moving your head from her back to her hair and twirling it in your fingers. You could feel her nod her head so you turn back towards the bed, avoiding Chris' gaze and crawling under the covers with Aaliyah.

"Y/N," Chris whispered and adjusted himself so he was laying next to Aaliyah, an arm reached over her and caressing yours.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow." You tell him and bring the girl closer to your body, humming a song to help her sleep. Christopher ran his hand over your arm to silently communicate with you, but you just ignored him and focused on the girl in your arms.

~

His dark brown eyes were the only visible part of his face, the mask was wrapped around his face and his hair was hanging in front of his face, hiding his identity. Yashua held the gun tightly in his right hand, finger hovering over the trigger.

"Do it," Romeo taunted. He had dry blood matted to his hair and fresh blood pouring out of his nose, his face was different shades of blue and purple. He was on his last legs, but he was never going to give up the information that he held. He wasn't going to give up the plan that Santiago had in mind for them, he would take it to the grave. At his words, Yashua quickly leaned up and pressed the gun harshly against Romeo's temple. It had been one week since Romeo had been locked up in the room, legs and arms chained to the chair, and yet he hadn't given up any information. He was fucking useless to them now.

"Any last words?" Yashua questions, shoving the gun harder into his temple. Romeo winced at the action, the gun digging into a bruise he had. But he only did it for a second before he smirked at Yashua.

"Santiago is going to kill all of you. I promise you that."

~

"Pa' arriba pa' abajo pa' centro pa' dentro!" You shouted, clinking the shot glasses with Lydia's and Tatianna's before you all down your shots. The alcohol burned your throat as it went down but it felt good to be able to let go for the night with your closest friends. You would have to face Christopher soon, after successfully avoiding him for a week and drowning yourself in work. But that wasn't a worry for tonight, you just wanted to get dumb drunk to forget how badly you would disappoint your brother and hurt Chris.

"Let's go dance!" Tati shouted over the loud music, she managed to grab your wrist and drag you and Lydia to the crowded dance floor. You shook your head and let a laugh out at your wild friends.

"Come on Y/N!" Lydia encouraged and began to shake her hips to the beat of the music. Tati nodded her head and copied Lydia's moves. You smiled at them before dipping your hips and shaking them side to side.

It felt like the three of you were there for hours, dancing to the music that blasted over the speakers, and belting out the lyrics when your songs came on. The worries seem to wash away with every sway you guys made. But you could feel the alcohol begin to wear off, and you needed more.

"Hey, guys! I'm going to go get us some drinks!" You shout to them over the beat of the music. They nod at you for a quick moment before turning back to their dancing. You managed to make it safely off the crowded dance floor, making your way over to the bar. You pull your phone out of your clutch, looking at the notification that immediately popped up.

Chris: Can you come over tonight? We need to finish our conversation from last week.

You ignore the message and shove the phone back into your clutch. No worries for tonight, just letting go. And that's when it happened. You were leaning against the bar, ordering another round of drinks for you guys, when you felt the hands slide up your thighs. Another pair of hands snaked around your waist and kept a firm grip on your hips, keeping you in place.

"Listen mamacita." You could hear him whisper in your ear.

"Get the fuck off me before I punch the both of you in your throat." You threaten them.

"Remember our names, so you can tell your brother Paulo and Sergio are here as a warning." One of them whispers. The other leans over to you, lips next to your ears and hands still on your ass.

"Sleep with one eye open mamacita because now you and Richard are targets."

Note: guess who’s back? back again.  heyy guysss im backkk. i know I took a month away from writing, its been a rough month for me ngl but thank you to all those who checked up on me, you guys are the best. but now that I am back, I have all the content coming for you guys so stay tuned. 

Taglist: 

@cncloca @wowvelez @babecita-1 @yashuazbabygirl @getmealife @phanislife124 @valeriiaaass  @cyaneaa @codename-nyx @cnchoe-imagines @moonlitzabdiel@damnthoseyes  @disneydejesus @ourkarlanicoleuniverse @niallisworld @multi-fandomgoddess @california-creator @ ego-allie-bap

[commissionsformel]

Underneath The Stars

bask in the glory that is this picture jfc 

| Afidgdwifgsajh I’m sorry this took so fucking long omg, tho ngl this does seem to be the best writing I’ve done so far uwu but despite how long this took, I hope that you still enjoy it |

| Commission for @first-blood-moon/ Picture above done by her also ; @menamiin-commi |

「  Part 1/2 」

「  Word count: 2143 」

「 Warnings: Mentions of sex 」

➽ As the evening sky glistened upon the new shiny car driving along the empty road, inside the driver struggled to focus on the road that was paved in front of him. His different colored orbs would frantically flicker back and forth to the brunette in the passenger seat next to him and the seemingly never ending asphalt in front of them. It was uneasy enough already, being in small area with his lover, and it didn’t help at all the brunette’s hand was moving slowly up the demon’s thigh.

Though when he turned to glance at the human he was on his phone as if nothing was happening, typical. Occasional teasing was very appreciated but he was driving for crying out loud, though it was clear Oliver didn’t care in the slightest. It seemed as though they could be out in public, a crowd even, and Oliver could touch Spencer in anyway, completely unashamed. Though of course, it’s not like the demon minded, in fact he loved the attention but in the right situation and under the appropriate circumstances of course.

Though the touching was very distracting, he was able to drive smoothly and safely. There destination wasn’t very far to begin with, about half an hour away. Still, it took a bit of convincing on his part to get his parents to approve of the drive. Him and Oliver had been dating for quite a while now, they were very close at this point. The amount of touching and kissing they did, one would think they had been dating for years and years though it’s only been two. Even so, Spencer was ready to move on now, finally. He had been thinking about this for a few months now, he was ready to take this to the next level.

He worried whether Oliver wanted to move on as well, but with all the sexual teasing and touching that goes on between them, the demon was fairly certain the brunette would be okay with it. Though of course if he isn't, then they would stop and do something else. Perhaps stargazing would be nice, the park they were going to would be perfect for that kind of thing, the field was very spacious. Evening was arriving, and it was quite cold, no humans would still be out at this time so it would be left for just them two.

The demon’s heart pounded just thinking about it, though, it didn’t help that the field had just now come into view and was now becoming closer and closer as the seconds went by. In all honesty, Spencer had no idea how he would initiate any of this, he secretly hoped that Oliver would advance onto him. Though he feared he might not, Oliver was quite unpredictable in situations such as these.

Pulling up into the parking lot, Spencer felt his face becoming hotter and he looked around to see that they indeed were the only ones there. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes briefly before turning the engine off. Though Oliver immediately exited to stretch, the demon remained quietly in the car. His hands making tight fists on his thighs, the material from his jeans compacted underneath his nails as he struggled to find the courage to join his lover outside.

‘He might reject me…’ he thought sadly, his top teeth sneaking past his lips to bite his bottom one harshly. He was probably overreacting, but it was hard to ignore his churning stomach. The way his eyebrow twitched as his heart thumped harshly against his ribcage, causing the demon to pant quietly. His thoughts jumbling around in his head, the possibilities of what could happen overwhelmed him immensely. The feeling of being closed in his own dark thoughts, it was surrounding him like a cloud. Like he could swallowed at any moment, and he would stuck forever.

A small knock at the window, Oliver stood outside, looking concerned as he peered into the car. A final breath left the demon as he exited the car slowly, his hair slightly disheveled. It stuck to his forehead with sweat… had it really been that bad to the point he sweated? In all honesty, he knew that there was no real reason to be nervous, he didn’t even know what he apprehensive about to begin with. Rejection? It was unlikely, he knew this, but still it hung over his head like a dark cloud.

Though his bitter thoughts were quickly swept aside with the gentle feeling of soft lips pressed against the cool skin of his forehead. Spencer gazed up and smiled warmly as Oliver pulled him into a tight embrace. His ecstatic heartbeat calming slowly as he melted underneath his lover’s gentle touch, his own arms snaking around the brunette’s waist. He held him closely, ensuring that he would not be able to leave until he was allowed it. No words were exchanged, though Spencer already felt so much better.

The feeling of Oliver’s arms around him, his light breathing upon Spencer’s neck made him feel safe, like nothing could ever happen to him. It was when he pulled slightly that Spencer began to panic again, though there mid sections still touched, Oliver’s head pulled back to look at the demon clearly. His eyes gentle and soft, his touch still warm on Spencer’s back as he parted his lips slightly and joined them slowly with Spencer’s cold ones. Closing his eyes quickly, Spencer basked in the kiss. It warmed him, the tingling feeling that ran down his spine had never ceased to occur since their very first kiss. It never failed to make his knees weak, though Oliver’s tight embrace ensured that Spencer wouldn’t fall.

It was a feeling Spencer knew all too well, and though it made him feel wobbly he loved it oh so much. If he could, he would stay like this for eternity, wrapped in his lover’s arms with the warm tingly feeling of his soft lips on his. He always wanted these moments to last longer, and he could tell, so did Oliver. Hands tangled themselves in the demon’s dark hair as Oliver deepened the kiss even more, he held Spencer’s head in place establishing that he was to stay here and not dare move in the slightest.

Normally in this situation, Oliver would be having Spencer chase after him. Teasing him, not granting him a kiss until he did what he was told to do… or something along those lines. Though it was fun at times, Spencer was no where near in the mood for anything like that. Suspecting this, Oliver proceeded to do what he knew his boyfriend loved.

Slow minutes passed by until the demon had completely calmed. Feeling his lover’s once clenched and tense muscles ease underneath his hands, Oliver pulled away slowly. The warmth of the kiss still lingering on his lips as he looked deeply into his lover’s eyes. His beautiful eyes were mesmerizing, though it was impossible to miss the deep concern that danced behind them. A quick pecks peppered along the brunettes cheek as Spencer spoke softly and sincerely.

“I’m fine… I’m excited to be here with you…” Which was true, spending time with Oliver is what made Spencer happy. The way his heart beat damn near out of his chest, how his breathing hitched every time Oliver got close, the hairs that would stand on end when he felt Oliver’s breath on his skin… normally speaking this would all sound horrible to experience and in some ways it was. It was painful, it was awkward, but it was caused by Oliver, caused by the love he felt for him. It was a good kind of , an oddly endearing kind of awkwardness it was a pleasurable kind of pain. Though it wasn’t something Spencer would say, at least while he was thinking straight, it was something he knew Oliver would never let him live down if he found out.

“You sure princess? I’m always here if you need to talk…” His voice gentle and sincere, setting the demons ears on fire as his face burned up as well. A hand was placed protectively on the small of Spencer's back, the burnette’s thumb rubbing soothingly on the demon’s spine. A content hum escaped his lips as he nodded, placing another kiss upon the brunettes cheek. Oliver may have a big tease, though in situations like these he knew exactly what to do in order to soothe his lover.

A few more minutes of silence passed by before finally the demon pulled away, his dark thoughts and doubt now gone, though only for now, he worried. A soft kissed was placed upon his forehead before Oliver sauntered behind the car to retrieve the picnic supplies they had packed. Today was planned to be the best day of their relationship, so far at least, though how it was going so far Spencer questioned if that was actually going to be the case. It was going to be… heart pumping to say the least, though he was really just concerned about Oliver having a good time. He wanted the brunette to enjoy himself, not spend the entire time worrying about him. Spencer would be damned if they didn’t have a good time just because of his insecurities.

Shoving aside his thoughts to the back of his head he began helping his lover unload the supplies. They didn’t pack much just minimal sandwiches and pocky plus the biggest blanket they could find. It was often used when they spent the night together, it’s big enough to cover both of them though they prefered to use each other for warmth instead of the thin fabric. No amount of blankets could make Spencer heat up the way Oliver’s arms could, it was a feeling of safety and love, something no blanket or person could ever replicate.

Placing a small kiss upon Oliver’s cheek, Spencer began making his way into the great big field looking for a spot to set up their picnic. Though as soon as he turned his body away from the brunette, he felt a hand sneak it’s way into the back pocket of his skinny jeans. A jolt ran through the demon’s body though soon after, he found that his own hand was snaking it’s inside the brunette's back pocket as well.

The field was empty, completely void of any humans or any creature for that matter. All Spencer could imagine was running carelessly through the field, feeling the cool breeze across his face as he twirled and spun to his heart’s content. Perhaps attempting to paint the horizon might be amusing. He did find oil paintings quite interesting but he never really was one to be good at art, even as a child in school when you were taught to draw simple shapes and figures.

Striding a bit further into the empty field, Spencer set down the blanket at last, finally settling on a nice patch of bright green grass. Slowly he lowered himself, a groan of relaxation escaping past his lips as his bottom met the ground gently. Though he only had a mere moment of peaceful breathing before his lap was crushed by the weight of Oliver's body. He didn’t mind being sat on, though if he had warning beforehand that would be nice.

Without even so much as giving Spencer a second to gather himself Oliver captured his lips in a hungry kiss. He was selfish sometimes, not that Spencer minded, it was quite cute when he would ask or beg Spencer for attention. It didn’t happen often, but when it did it was absolutely adorable. To a point where Spencer wanted to tease and ignore him on purpose just to hear his whine, though it always backfired.

He decided now wasn’t the time to do that, he couldn’t bear the thought of him risking the chance to sabotage his plans for tonight. Everything needed to be perfect, his attitude needed to be perfect. Anything Oliver wanted to do, they would do… to an extent.

Kissing back with the same passion, Spencer’s hands lowered and rested themselves on Oliver’s hips. The warmth Oliver provided, the feeling of safety and love he gave off whenever Spencer was near was far too irresistible. So much so that it sometimes pained him to be apart, but that was a separate issue.

Melting underneath Spencer’s touch, Oliver leaned forward pushing Spencer gently onto his back. He was always the one out of the two to, without a doubt, clearly make obvious what it is he wants. Especially when it came to what he wanted from Spencer which is something that the demon appreciated very much. It’s very easy to make decisions. Perhaps then, he’ll know if tonight was the night they’d go all way.