#i will also state the very obvious and say that bitti is such a pleasure to work with ajsnxnkck ….. please im on my knees

[unriding]

me n moze say good morning to the world !!! ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ

art by @rabbbitseason of course <3

[its-me-im-coraline]

NSFW Alphabet // Ethan Torchio

words // 2383

warnings // smut, clearly its nsfw headcannons

pairing // Ethan Torchio x GN!Reader (might be mentions that seem like they are for f reamer but comeon theres lingerie for every body 👁️👄👁️)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. an apology to the people on my tag list i think i accidentally have not been tagging you this whole time i am so so so sorry omg

request // yes, it was a reblog i cant find it right now

summary // self explanatory

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Regarding you, Ethan is the king of after care. As rough as he can be in bed, that’s just how sweet he can be once you're done with it. Goes full on dad mode (don’t know how else to explain this). He will have water, painkillers if you’re now in pain, a washcloth to clean you up, new clothes, and of course the cuddles.

“I’m alright, Ethan. I can do it on my own,” you say as Ethan walks to you with the wet cloth ready to clean the mess he made on your body.

“I know you can, amore. I just want to take care of you,” he says as he leaves a kiss on your lips.

I can also see him being the one to make a big fat breakfast the morning after, or at least get up early to pick something up.

Now I also feel that he is in need of some aftercare. It depends on the day really, if he’s had a pretty rough day and all I feel like he’d ask for some backrubs after. In this case he’d fall asleep so quickly like omg. But on the biggest part I see him feeling the need to reassure you that the things he said (i think we already established that this man would call you a slut) are not how he feels about you and will be asking if you feel the same.

“Do you love me?”

“Wha- of course I do, Ethan! Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know… I guess - I guess I am worried that you don’t after what I said.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

When it comes to himself I feel like he really likes his chest and arms. Like I don’t know but I see him really getting off with you pretty much mastubating on his chest. Ya know what I mean? (i think you do you little sluts). He pretty much enjoys anything you do on his chest. I can imagine him looking at the mirror after you two had sex, seeing the cum on his chest along with the marks you have left and just smiling.

“What are you looking at, love?” You ask, seeing as the man is standing in front of the bathroom mirror from your spot on the hotel bed.

“Nothing, just the mess you made.”

“Mhm, and I bet you like it, huh?”

“You have no idea… Hey, are you sure you got tired? Cause I think I can do another round.”

As for his arms, as I said, he simply really enjoys that he can man handle you anytime, get you in any position he likes and feel you scratching them from the pleasure.

When it comes to you, Ethan is an ass guy. Say what you want but the man is an ass guy, end of discussion. He loves anything that involves your but. It does not explicitly have to be something like anal. He simply enjoys seeing your butt and holding it in his hand. It does not matter if it’s big or not, if it has stretch marks or whatever. Wear lingerie that he likes or that itty bitty teeny weeny bikini if you wear them or even some tight pants that make your butt just poìp and he can not contain himself.

I think I have said that to someone here (i think I had sent an ask to zodi @ icouldbeyourputtet) before but I feel like this man is very into spanking, like not even the rough malicious way. but this very wholesome chill way.

You had been talking about it all day, not having had a minute alone with each other for days, you could only dream what you could do that night after everyone left.

A playlist was playing in the background and a cigarette was burning on the ashtray next to your legs, you assuming a similar position, as said cigarette, bent over Ethan’s lap as he caressed your ass cheeks and back, playing around with the lingerie set he had gifted you a while back. (Did I just go to search my fave porn vid, lol exposing myself, and get disappointed because I can’t find it and translate it into fanfiction? yes yes i did, so bare with what i can remember)

“It’s okay, baby, you can take a little more, come on,” he praised, leaving a spank and yet another soft rub on the very red cheek.

He continued, going with the music, a very nice pattern, not very rough spanks but just enough to cause pain, pleasure and redness all over. Accidentally the man landed a few very rough ones causing a gasp and a series of giggles as you practically fell off his lap.

“Ethan, what the hell?” You laughed getting up from the floor and this time sitting on the man’s lap, sharing kisses with him.

“What,” he copied your action and laughed, “it was not intentional. I got carried away by how nice your butt is.”

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He is and is not messy. He will not want the cum to be in every surface possible you know, he will be careful but at the same time this man just loves to see his cum on you, whether it’s your back or your stomach, or in you if you’re ok with it. I bet he has a teeny weeny breeding kink but not necessarily because of the idea of breeding you but rather because he looooves seeing his cum run out of you… I'm not sure if this falls in the breeding kink category but alright

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes to fuck you while watching porn.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I feel like he is pretty experienced. From what they band has said in interviews and stuff, he seems to be getting some pretty often (no one, NO ONE, is surprised at that). He is not acting arrogant tho (not unless that’s the dynamic of the night), he is willing to learn what works for you and you specifically

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

As I said this man is an ass guy so I’d say anything that involves having the view of your ass. Humor me but i think he’d really like 69 with a female/afab partner (don’t know if this works very well with two dick-baring people lol). It has it all, eating you out,

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think it can be both with him. He will not exactly try to make jokes but if something like the previously mentioned spanking incident happens it’s def welcome.

Now as a general rule I see him being pretty serious. I will be honest, I’m getting brat tamer vibes from this man so it’s all pretty serious when you really get into it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Considering he’s an Italian man and if you look at a lot of photos of him he def fit the ‘mediterenean’ man type. I see him just barely grooming. I don’t see him really shaving or whatever but he also wouldn’t want you to choke on pupic hair, he much rathers you choke on his dick

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It all depends, really. He can be quite intimate with you but it all depends on the moment. There are different occasions for everything. For example, and this is a paradox that I hope I’m explaining well enough to understand, he is not very rough (will not be very aggressive and stuff, like to the extreme those tik tok boys want to pretend they are with their * growling * ew) but he will be rough. intimidating looks, spanking just enough to make you feel pain and redden up your ass cheeks. He’s like that mostly when you are being bratty.

Most of the times, like we’re talkin kind of lazy sex moments, it more wholesome ig, like very intimate and just comfortable and almost comforting. Ok, but like why do i see him having sex and having casual conversation (not the most common, i see this as like lazy day off, having nothing else to do and not being like super horny but being more like h o r n y … am i making sense?)

Setting the scene, you two are at home, both have a day off but it’s kind of raining so any of your plans are ruined. At this point it’s at around 10 am, not early, not late. You have missed each other and both have made it obvious but you are both in a very tired state so you opt for something not too much.

Plain and simple missionary is what goes around this time, Ethan on top just holding your legs around his waist,, going at a pretty medium pace.

“It’s a pity the weather is bad today,” says Ethan staring out the window.

“I know, we were going to go to the beach… I’m bummed about it,” you say, short of breath as the man continues his pace fucking you.

“Mhm, true. But this is better, amore, no? I’ve missed you so much,” he breaths out the last part, moans interrupting his words.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does that pretty often, especially if you are not around to help. Sometimes it’s because of you that he needs to. I would def see him exchanging naked pics with you and at first he does that to tease you but he ends up teased when he sees a video you sent of you masturbating.

Bets that he’d be taking photos and vids of you fucking on occasion so he goes to these when he misses you on tour.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As I mentioned previously I see Ethan to be a brat tamer. That I see to be the main kink that kind of works around everything else.

“Can you stop this, slut? It has gotten exhausting. I told you no noise but here you are,” he ordered, looking down at you trembling below his finger tips.

His face was quite stoic, voice never wavering from the strict and cold tone he tended to have when scolding you on the daily. Most times it was leaving a cup out of the sink but this time the scolding came from misbehaving. As if it was not enough that he was punishing you for being a brat and riling him up all morning, now you had to disobey orders. It was getting to him for sure.

“I’m sorry daddy,” you whisper, Ethan seeming satisfied with the response.

“Aw, why so tame puppy, now you decide to be nice?” His tone stayed the same, his words imitating a joke but the whole ordeal was not even close to it.

Now as for other kinks (did I open a site because I could not think? yes, shut up), as a result of being a brat tamer dom there are some few more kinks accompanying specifically that. He is def into bondage, both tying you up but also being tied up on occasion.

“Puppy, I have told you that is not a way to treat me. Untie me,” he says calmly, wrists tied on the headboard of the bed, eyes fixated to you.

“Well, why not? You do it all the time,” you whine, placed on all fours, facing Ethan as you lean towards him on your hands, “I want in on the fun.”

If only he was not tied… Ethan’s mind was already going places, figuring out exactly how he would punish you after you untie him -or after he escapes the restrains, whatever comes first. You knew that, very well - in all honestly that was the plan, that is always the plan.

“Amore, let me go. Let me go and your punishment will be tame,” he voiced looking at you, now positioned on top of his lap, touching yourself right then and there.

“I sense you want to be punished puppy, don't you?” You simply nod your head, eyes closed in pleasure.

“You see, the problem is you will not enjoy what I am thinking.”

“Mhmn.”

“Well, get yourself off now that you can, cause after I get my hands on you… You’re not getting to cum for days, amore.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Honestly, anywhere. I can see him having a preference to the luxury of either of your houses or a hotel room but if you push his buttons just right, some restaurant’s bathroom it is.

why can i imagine him having sex at a weeding venue’s bathroom….. omg…..

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Honestly, both. I feel like he would be extremely good at giving it, but would never opposed to receiving

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s ok with them but he doesn’t love them, ya know?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

Is surely try to do new things but it will always depends on what it is.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Come on. This goes without saying. He is a drummer for a living. He can surely go on for long…

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I def feel like he has a fair amount of toys. Some for himself, some for you… He looooves using them to punish you.

(small mention to my last fic little puppet)

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A ton! It’s his specialty. Maybe one of his most common punishments is edging and teasing. He can drag it on for days

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is not very loud but is surely encouraging you to be.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost

[catsafarithewriter]

“You’re my first choice. Always. Okay?” for either Louise/Sephie or Lune/Yuki?

A/N: Louise & Sephie it is! (I’m eternally weak for those two.) This went down a human AU rabbit hole, with Louise and Baron being not siblings, but engaged. This turned out rather bitty, and has some sad moments, but it ends happily, I promise!

x

They had been betrothed for as long as Louise could remember. Longer, even; the records stated that her parents had barely waited until her first birthday before agreeing to the union with the von Gikkingens.

A fine family, everyone was quick to assure her any time she expressed her doubts. True, normally a baron wouldn’t even be considered a suitable match for the daughter of a duke - as titles went, baroncy was about as far down you could go without falling off the nobility ladder entirely - but his line was a long-standing favourite of the royal family. If it wasn’t her, it would be some other high-ranking young lady to snatch him up.

Or so everyone kept reminding her. 

And she tried.

She really did try to love him the way a fiancee should. 

And, fair enough, he wasn’t a bad match. She could have had worse. He wasn’t unkind or cruel; he respected the fact that they’d both been thrown into this commitment with little - or no - say so, and was actually funny and considerate and intelligent. 

But there was still no spark. 

Louise was a realist. She knew that marrying for love was impractical; that betrothees often learnt to care for one another; that she was lucky in that at least he was only a few years her senior... but still...

He was a good companion. A childhood friend. A brother to her. She could imagine spending her life alongside him, but as his wife? As the woman of the household, mother of his children?

Her future stretched out before her, known and secure and dull; a path paved before she even took her first steps. Where was the excitement? The mystery? The chemistry? Where was the romance?

“We could always adopt,” Humbert says during a quiet moment of yet another royal ball, this one celebrating an engagement, one similarly built out of politics and logic. She doesn’t mind balls - they’re one of the few chances they’re able to escape the usually ever-present chaperones and really talk. 

“Pardon?” Her mind is on other things, in particular the sad eyes of their future queen-to-be. 

“Adoption,” he repeats. “Once we’re married, there’ll be expectations of an heir. If we time it right, no one has to be any the wiser. We retire to a country house for a year, return with a child, hope it takes after one of us.”

“We’ll have to time it well,” she says, but her mind is still on other things; the words come out almost automatic. “Bribe the right people to keep them from tattling...”

“I have people at my estate we can trust.”

She is silent for a moment. She watches the royal fiancee turn down another invitation to dance. “Is this what you really want?” she asks softly. “To spend the rest of our lives living a lie?”

“If you have any other ideas, I’m listening.”

She chews her bottom lip. “We could always refuse.”

There is a whole heartbeat before they both give a bark of laughter. It passes as quickly as it comes, but the humour persists in the corner of their lips. 

“Have you ever considered eloping?” she asks.

He gives a most ungentlemanly snort. She wonders who he’s been spending time around to pick up such a habit. Certainly not either of their parents. “I think that would somewhat defeat the objective.”

“Not together. With someone else.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, but there’s something sad in his silence. “I confess I have never felt such a way about someone.” He gazes across the ballroom, as if in search of that long sought-after connection, and then to her. “Have you?”

“Never enough to elope,” she answers. She doesn’t speak of how it’s a choice. That every lingering look and stray spark is haunted by the knowledge of the inevitable hardships that would follow up if she allowed herself to feel any such way. 

She doesn’t say any of this, but she suspects she doesn’t need to. Sometimes having a best friend for a fiance is a double-edged sword. 

He catches the way her gaze slides once more to the lonely royal fiancee, and gives a low chuckle. “Do you want an introduction?”

“She looks so sad.”

“She looks like she needs a friend.” He holds out his arm in the very model of a doting fiance. “Shall we?”

She takes the arm and allows herself to be led to the King’s table. The King, as usual, beams at the von Gikkingen presence and shoots what he probably thinks as a charming grin Louise’s way. She ignores the way her skin crawls. 

“Baron,” he croons, as if there’s only one baron worth knowing, “How wonderful to see you join us. And your lady.” He winks. Louise smiles thinly. “How’s it going, babe?”

The improper endearment - if endearment is indeed the right word - has long lost its sting after the many times she’s heard the King lavish it upon the ladies of court. She still dislikes it. 

The King continues, as if he’d never asked a question, and gestures broadly to the woman by his side. “I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting my bride-to-be, have you?”

Humbert bows. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”

She tips her head graciously back, loose black curls falling about her face and Louise has to remind herself to breath. “The pleasure’s all mine, Baron von Gikkingen. I’ve heard tales of your family’s involvement in this kingdom. I can only hope you are also made of such stock.” Her eyes brush past Louise. “And this must be your wife, I presume.”

“Fiancee,” they correct simultaneously. 

“Ah,” the foreign princess says. There’s something knowing in that look that leaves Louise glad the King isn’t half as perceptive.

“In fact,” Humbert proceeds - Louise is sure he saw the look also, but has always had a talent for seeming unruffled - “that’s exactly what we’re here for. Since myself and my fiancee shall be in the palace frequently after our wedding, it seems sensible for the two ladies to get acquainted.”

Louise shoots Humbert a look. He ignores it. 

The King claps his hands. “An excellent idea.”

Neither ladies move, and Humbert leans in to Louise. “Now is when you ask Her Highness for a dance.”

Louise reddens, embarrassed more that Humbert had to prompt her, of all people, and holds out a hand to the foreign princess. “Your Highness,” she manages, “would you care to dance?”

x

“I’m sorry about my fiance,” Louise apologises as she draws the Princess out onto the dance floor. “He tends to think he’s helping by meddling.”

“Men are exceptionally good at that,” the Princess replies, and Louise wonders if there’s anyone she’s specifically thinking of. “And I know your... fiance’s name,” and the way she refers to Humbert makes Louise worry their platonic status is obvious, “but I believe he omitted yours, Lady...”

Belatedly, Louise realises both men forwent naming their brides. “Louise,” she says. “Louise DuBois. Princess...?”

“Persephone. Soon to be Queen.” And there’s the curl of her lip - almost imperceptible - as she says it. A trophy queen, and they both know it. 

“How soon?”

“The end of summer,” the Princess answers, and her eyes drift to the winter trees outside. “Planning a royal wedding takes time. And you?”

It takes Louise a moment to register she’s being questioned about her own wedding to Humbert. For a moment, a simpler moment, she had forgotten. “Midsummer. The wedding has been on the table for twenty years; our parents are content to wait a few more seasons.” Even if it had taken some persuasion to give them that much grace. 

“Betrothed?”

“Since we were children.”

A new song starts, and the Princess moves into place, stepping opposite Louise. She may have led the life of royalty, but she’s taller than Louise, her shoulders broad and her arms strong, and Louise’s heart stutters as the Princess gently takes her hand. The Princess’s eyes catch on the table where both their fiances watch. “From the stories I’ve heard, he sounds to be a good man.” Her gaze turns to Louise, questioning.

“Indeed,” Louise says automatically. “Any lady would be lucky to have him? And the King? What have you heard of him?”

The Princess’s lips twist into a wry smile. “Any princess would be lucky to have him,” she echoes. 

x

She sees the Princess frequently in the coming months - enough so that any gentleman-caller would have raised questions, but Louise goes unnoticed - and before the winter is out, the Princess is Persephone and no longer Your Highness. 

They become fast friends, bound by the shared fate of a chosen husband they hold no romantic interest in. 

“He’s like a brother to me,” she tells Persephone once. “I love him... but not in that way. Not in the way I’m meant to.”

They sit at opposite ends of the library window seat, a unread book open in each of their laps and the tresses of their dresses overlapping. Louise’s mind skitters each time their toes brush. 

Persephone runs a thumb absent-mindedly along the pages of her book. In the otherwise silent room, Louise can hear the rustle it makes. “And he feels the same way about you?”

“Yes.” She hesitates, unsure of how much to shed. “I don’t think he often feels that way about people anyway. At least we both know where we stand. If it comes to it, we can manage.” There are worse fates than an unwanted engagement to one’s best friend.

The rustle of pages continue, faster. Louise isn’t sure Persephone even knows she’s doing it. “And yourself?” the Princess asks. She’s not meeting Louise’s gaze, staring out into the royal gardens instead, and Louise can’t read the emotion. “Do you feel that way about people?”

“Yes.”

“Men?”

“Both. Either. Any.”

Persephone’s eyes flicker to Louise then, and the trepidation in them is not from the confession, Louise knows, but from the realities it brings; the truth they’ve both been hiding from is suddenly real and present and possible. 

“You?” Louise asks.

Persephone is back to watching the gardens. Her next words are so quiet, Louise almost misses them. “Just the ladies.” 

x

“Run away with me?”

The royal gardens are quiet, still cold even as spring takes hold, and Louise’s laugh bounces off the decorative hedges with abandon. They’re alone, the evening air drawing in, and they sit comfortably beneath a canopied archway. An ironworked seat is settled beneath its boughs, and Louise savours the warmth of her companion. In the privacy of the garden she allows herself to murmure, “I would love to.”

There’s no relieved sigh or excited gasp from Persephone, only the long breath of resignation. “But?” she prompts.

“Humbert.”

“He wants the marriage no more than you.”

Louise doesn’t answer immediately. She carefully puts her thoughts into order. “If I don’t marry him, his family will force him to wed some other lady.” She thinks of the lonely way he watches the world. “Someone who doesn’t know him the way I do, who will expect... more than he can give.”

Persephone is silent. Then, quietly, “I know how he feels.”

The truth of that hits Louise like a cannonball, and her mind switches off before it can remind her of the future laid out for Persephone. 

She takes Persephone’s hand and she doesn’t let go. “We have until the end of summer. We’ll find a way,” she promises.

x

Louise stands before the mirror in her wedding gown and tries to hide the tears. Her mother mistakes them for tears of joy and congratulates her daughter, once again, on a match Louise had no say in. 

“The prestige we’ll get - the family will finally gain the respect it deserves with this union,” Lady Elizabeth fusses, checking once more over the lacing. “Finally the DuBoises will join the von Gikkingens at the King’s side. You’ve done fantastically, my dear.” She pecks her daughter on the cheek; an action that immediately makes Louise want to rub the skin clear of the sensation. “We’re all so proud of you.”

Louise wonders if Humbert is receiving the same empty platitudes she is - the declarations of conditional love and pride from parents - and if he’s able to accept them with the same polite manner he wields like armour. 

As her mother leaves, Louise does scrub at her cheek. The provisional love lingers like a smear on her skin. Crawling. 

With a choking sound like a wounded animal, she reaches for the buttons along the dress’s spine and attempts to undo them. Two come off in her hand before familiar hands gently take over. 

“Rejoice,” Sephie says softly. Plainly. “You’re to be married tomorrow. The best day of your life.”

The gown falls from her and Louise is left shaking in the simple dress layered beneath. She falls back, sobbing as she leans into Sephie’s embrace. 

“I thought I could do this,” she manages in a hoarse whisper. “Give us another month to find the solution before your wedding. But to hear them all talk...” 

Sephie makes soothing noises and slowly, with the comfort of her hold, the panic subsides. Louise’s breathing returns under control, and she makes the decision without thinking. “Let’s do it,” she says. “Let’s run away together.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

“You’re not going to wish there were another choice-”

Louise’s hand snaps around Sephie’s wrist. “You’re my first choice,” she promises fervently, all fear gone with the knowledge of that simple, unshakable truth. “Always. Okay?”

The shock at Louise’s abrupt grip fades within heartbeats, and Sephie leans in, their foreheads touch in an achingly intimate gesture. “And you’re mine,” she whispers back. “Forever.”

x

There are multiple details to plan with elopement and Louise has considered none of them. Instead she stands in the starlit stables with a bag in one hand and her lover’s hand in the other and feels like she holds the world. 

Almost. 

“We should have told Humbert,” she says as she shifts the horses from their boxes. “He deserves to know.”

Sephie pulls a couple of saddles down from the wall. “And leave him an accessory to our elopement? The less he knows, the safer he’ll be.”

“He agrees.” 

Both women jolt. Leaning against the stable door is a tall, thin figure. “Evening, ladies. Going for an nighttime ride, are we?”

He steps into the lamplight, and Louise recognises the royal physician, Toto; a friend, but one under the payroll of the King. 

Sephie steps forward, suddenly no longer a giddy elopee, but the queen she was due to become. “Doctor, what are you doing here?”

“Both your fiances wanted me to keep an eye on the two of you.” There’s an amused glint in his eyes as he addresses the Princess. “With all the time you’ve spent on the von Gikkingen estate, the King was beginning to worry you were going to elope with the baron.”

“And Humbert?” Louise prompts.

“Like I said,” Toto repeats, “he wants me to keep an eye on you.” He brings another horse forward. “With all the adventure you’re due to have, he thinks you might be needing the best physician loyalty can buy.” He smiles then. “He figured you might be thinking about pulling a stunt like this, and he apologises that he can’t see you off in person, but ignorance is the best form of deniability.”

“Anything else?”

“He did ask me to pass along a message. I think the general gist of it was: Don’t worry about me, come back soon, and about time you did this.” 

“The general gist?”

“He used longer words, but the meaning’s the same.” 

“What about my fiance?” Sephie asks. “Your King. What about his orders?”

“My orders were to prevent you from eloping with the baron.” Toto inclines his head. “Since you are, indeed, not eloping with the baron, his orders are fulfilled.” 

“He’ll want your head.”

“He’ll have to catch me first.” Toto meets their gazes, and if there’s any deceit in them, Louise cannot see it. 

“Humbert will simply be wedded off to another lady,” Louise says. “He knows that, right?”

“He thinks the shame of being abandoned the night before his wedding will detour too many proposals in the immediate future and, beyond that, he’s thinking that a curse might work.” At Louise’s expression, Toto laughs. “Nothing major, just a transformation curse or something so he can enjoy some peace and quiet. Of course, if we come across any such spells in our travels...”

“We’ll know to keep an eye out.” Louise feels Sephie stand beside her, and she leans against her love’s warmth. “He knows I’m sorry, right?” she says quietly. “For leaving him like this. I love him, but...”

Toto holds up a hand. “He knows. And he understands.”

Sephie gently takes Louise’s hand in hers and places a kiss on her cheek. “We should go,” she says. “Before someone less understanding finds us.”

Louise exhales, and something unfurls within her. It feels like hope. 

“Yes,” she whispers. “Let’s go.”

[opalmothnightingale]

5- 19- 18 - What if I AM a bit of an island?  What makes my life turn on its axis?  Turning center, the core of my own values and mind, soul, my unique knowledge, interests, joys, sensory loves, my connection with spirit, guidance and nature?  Again and again.  My daughter’s presence is integral,...  

But she is a child, and what if she grows up and away from me?  What if I’ll never find my “kind”?  What if, really?  What if it’s too rare, one of a kind too literally in the everyday life relating level of how I want and need to live my life, to be well and not feel overwhelmed with other peoples’ differences from me, how it can wear me thin, exhaust, or lead to being cast out, unable to make them happy, not able to give what they want, them not able to want what I can give, as I’ve been saying and I see it’s so true, usually,...  What of it, then really?  I ask,...

So, ... What do you say, then Spirit?  

But I was thinking, because she will grow up, and what can I do to be happy, to be motivated, about my life, to fill my days when I’m not up to the task of my goals,...  Unable to focus, too stressed, etc,...  And also to help me be more motivated, later, like recharging, refilling my cup,...  

To help me have more energy and be up to par again,...  On tasks and goals, values,...  

So I don’t spend so much time breaking down, depressive, pre anxiety, etc, trauma, illness, whatever, because I heal better, faster, with these things,...  And I have been getting what I feel is some guidance on these things,...  What can I do to enjoy, feel pleasure, focus, senses immersed?  There was the thing of the rituals, enacted, like worship or offerings,dramatic things like that,...  I think that could be good for me at times...  Then there is childlike things, the path of childlike wonder, joy, and imagination and sensory things, and there is creativity, crafts and art, there is that,...  And there are games, another thing my daughter completely just loves,...  

And I can too, if it’s a game I really do enjoy, when I am in the mood for them, but yeah, there’s that,...  

These things are all things I can do to feel love, joy, meaning, satisfaction,...  And, motivation, purpose, whatever...  But,...  They are things that I can do alone, and they could take up huge chunks of my days, my life,... Even though I can do them with my daughter, but can’t I do them alone too?  

Don’t I even really need to be alone, in the quiet, so much, because my mind, introversion, sensitivity to noise,...  

Yes I also feel I need my daughter’s liveliness a lot of the time, 

...  Hm,... to keep myself from becoming stuck in the mud of stagnant fugue,, in a trance, ugh,..  these so very numb states of my mind, creativity, that I can get into, and, ... whatever,....  

But if I actually did more of those things, on my own, of my own will, what would that be like?  If I did them not just when my daughter asked me to,...  But,... also doing them, once she is in school, so I can have more time alone and not be latched to her side 24/7, if I ever live alone as a single mother someday, for example,...  Yeah, just,...  during my own time, on my days I had by myself, then what would it be like for me?  How would I feel, really, I wonder?  

Because I feel so self referencing, and by necessity so, it seems,... And if my daughter grows beyond me, will I just have to be like this?  I wonder, but there are some ideas at least, about what to do when I’m not in the full force ahead do things to get things done on the priorities mode of my goals, values and all that,...  

Which till I get more energy, focus, emotional health, psychological healing, whatever, those things I need so badly right now, however I also don’t know how to do them so I wait, wait,...  Till then, these other tasks are even higher priority because they’re what’s going to keep me ok while,...

Still, I’m not yet healed, which is the first step after all,...  They’re going to keep me more ok than I am now, which I really do need to be more ok than I am now, more of the time, and learn to function just little bitty steps at a time, and that’s ok, so I will need these things to help me with that...  I think.  It seems like it, a really big thing to me.  

And now I see, it’s a mental health need, a really big one,...  I wanted to push forward but instead I have to learn to be happy and well while I just wait,...  

Yes,..  And,...  So I see and it feels so good not to apologize for it, to actually see how it can be, happy, content, fulfilled, proud, unapologetic, not even so much as explaining a thing,...  Not even to the voices in my head, or anyone else,...

But just doing these things, “nonproductive” things, for so much of my time, but you know?  I don’t care.  I feel I need it like this,...

And,,...  So I am glad to have realized these things, and the universe was seeming to be showing them to me, on purpose, to highlight these ideas, ...  Thank you spirit,...  again. 

I have to write these little ideas down because they seem as though they are not very much, oftentimes, obvious, or something, but then I forget and so, no, I really need to write them out, ...  

And, when I do actually write them, look at it, it takes way more words to even write than it might seem.  Yes I am wordy, but the ideas are kind of big for me, too, not just minor obvious things, I think...  They seem 

a little, maybe to me, they seem,...  

rather obvious at first glance, but I tend to forget them, so I have to make it really, really obvious and unforgettable, unneglectable, etc,

Even with the human mind and psyche and emotional trauma and turbulence, and life, just as it very so much is,...  So,... Yeah,...  All of it, in my subconscious haze of my daily life,...

Yes, as it so often is, and must be,...  Brain fog, overwhelm, etc, etc,...  But that’s what all those schedules, lists, reminders, and organizing, etc is for, 

...so one thing at a time, but I’ll get to them,...  In an inspiring, 

...  And a pleasurable way for them, too,... Everything has to be fun and sensory for me,...  It just does, so there.  So that I can be assured, responsible,...  So I konw that I won’t abandon them in my depressiveness, either...  Yay me. 

Yes.  I wonder how many other “losers” or whatever would benefit from this kind of approach,...  Hm...  Not that I like to call people that, but I relate to being labeled like that,...  Ugh  I think maybe such people might be very sensitive, creative, sometimes,...  Not up to the daily, loud, extroverted, ...

Oh the,...  so practical left brained society’s daily expectations,...  Maybe? 

I think,... Surely,... You know?  Some of them, at least.  

Well, ... Hmm,...  I want to share it with them, then,

...  My friends,...  Long lost friends, were all like that,...  As have I been all my life, in various ways,...  Trying to hard to please, work hard, overly scrupulous as a result, morally, etc, because I could never measure up,...  

These creative, spiritual, right brained, sensitive ones, who might not fit in to the workaday world, seen to be lazy, etc...  Yes, if this is their problem, like it is for me, I think,...  

I see now,...  That it’s a big stigma that society hasn’t really seen for what it is,...  and so they can be such a wrongly shamed group of people, so heavy the shame on that whole issue, leading to a vicious cycle of the wrong solution that makes the problem worse, etc, etc.