#thank you for this ask i woke up at 4am and it had manifested in my inbox

[puffinpastry]

Ranked from least to most likely, who do you think of the main DQ crew would be a batrachophile? (a frog lover)

Related: who's the biggest lizard lovers?

I hope you were looking for a serious answer because I've GOT ONE

OKAY -

Coming in at number 7 we've got Hendrik. I'm going to take his Canon fear of bugs and stretch it out to cover any slimy or creepy crawlies.

He probably wouldn't run away from a frog but he'd probably scream if one touched him.

Next up at 6 we've got Sylvando. I Don't think they'd dislike frogs, more of a look-but-dont touch kinda person. Unless it's Bullying Hendrik Time. Then touching frogs is acceptable.

At number 5 we've got Jade. She's a princess, and I'm willing to bet there are some stories of some attempted frog kisses from her childhood.

4 goes to Erik. Are there frogs in Sniflheim? Probably not! Not a lover but they're unique and charming.

3 to Serena. They're cute. Does she need any other reason?

2 to Veronica. She carries them around. Don't piss her off or you'll be the next turned into a toad.

And coming in 1st we have our batrachophile himself, the luminary.

This is just Canon. He put frogs in apron pockets as a kid and I don't think he ever stopped. Frogs are his partner in crime, move aside Erik.

Everyone loves lizards. Don't make me assign lizards because I will.

[bang-and-a-blintz]

A Little Extra

Deadass. I woke up the other night at like 4am because this idea popped in my head. Would’ve been nice for it to have been a dream but whatever (thanks a lot, subconscious) and I tried to write it instead. For some reason I can’t stop thirsting over Sasha but I also just want to give him a big hug so this ended up manifesting from that. And yes, I know his character is supposed to be a total twat but I still love him. 

So here’s a little Sasha Mann/Reader oneshot that miiiiiight potentionally be more. I have lots of thots. 😇

Fandom: The Affair

Relationship: Sasha Mann//Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warning: In the realm of smuttiness (basically just some not-so-dry humping)

Word Count: 3,504

~A Little Extra~

You've seen him on set a few times but never had the chance to be properly introduced, and it's not like you can just waltz on up to the lead actor, especially someone with as much prestige as Sasha Mann. No way. At least not when you just got hired fairly recently as an extra for the film. It had been a dream come true to finally be working on a real set in Hollywood and, not to mention, you always did have a little crush on Mr. Mann, so it was just a stroke of luck that you landed the same film.

Oh, how you wished you could go up to him and just say hey or something. Anything for the chance to hear him say your name with that charming accent and smile in that endearingly boyish way of his. But you feared the opportunity may have passed ever since he and that Helen woman split up. You had nothing against her, but the Sasha that walked into work now was a far cry from the man you remembered before the breakup. 

Gone was the sweet and genial man who came in every day with a big grin on his face. Now, however, he was so easily irritated and ill-tempered, snapping at anyone who crossed his path.

He rarely smiled anymore and it saddened you.

Before, Sasha had always been kind to everyone working on set; he would make a point to take time out of his day to greet all of the cast members and crew. On several occasions, he treated the everyone to some wild nights out on the town. You knew the man must make a fortune, being an A-listed actor and all, but even still, catering to a group of fifty or more for all expense-free parties around town must add up eventually. But he never even batted an eye; it seemed like he just loved to see everyone having a good time. All in all, the guy was generally pretty friendly with anyone who crossed his path. At least as far as you could tell, but unfortunately, it didn't seem like that was the case as of late.

"Where the fuck is my coffee? And who the fuck has taken my robe?!" Sasha roared across the room and the chatter quietened a smidge. A few people scurried off while his assistant went over to him with the article of clothing in question.

"The coffee is brewing, sir."

"Brewing? Fucking hell, are you a witch cooking it up in a cauldron, hm? Ever heard of a goddamn Keurig? Well, I'll tell you, it's one of those funny little machines that have a rather conveniently placed button that when pushed, miraculously funnels out the magical fucking coffee!"

Yikes.

"Mr. Mann, it's broken." The guy looked bored with his boss and you had to give it to him for dealing with Sasha's little tantrum. He was acting more and more like a pretentious asshole every day and it was getting old. 

You stood by and casually sipped on your cup of mint tea. They had just finished filming a scene with you somewhere off in the crowd and now you were just relaxing before they called wraps. Not wanting to be anywhere near Mr. Mann’s warpath, you shuffled around them and hoped no one would notice.

The last thing you needed today was to be caught up in that nonsense.

All of a sudden a hand gripped your arm, nearly spilling the tea everywhere, and pulled you in the opposite direction. It was the assistant director and he looked frantic. "Y/N, right? Well Rachel, the lead, you know, she's just called in sick and we have a super strict schedule today and it turns out that you look the part exactly so congrats to you. You get to be one of the big shots for a day! Sex scenes always get the talent agent's attention, so really, you’re probably getting the better end of the deal."

"Excuse me, did you say sex scene?" You stumbled a bit but his iron-like grip kept you upright as he plowed on forward towards the make-up department.

"Yes, you had signed the nudity rider that your agent had sent over to us stating that you would consent to any nude scenes that involved sexual activities, but not the actual act of sex itself, of course. This isn't porn." You begrudgingly remembered a conversation you had with your friend who had been sort of acting as your agent at the time. She insisted that these riders were simply a formality. She assured you that they were usually only for something like a pool party scene that would have you wear a bikini in the background or something of the sort. In this case, it seemed, you were getting the chance to do a sex scene with the main fucking character. "This is a very unique situation; normally we would not ask this of you, but seeing as time is of the essence and we are super behind schedule, we're going to have to make an exception today. Sasha just had to go through a fucking existential crisis in the middle of this movie. Set us back three goddamn weeks. Fucking prima donna."

No lie, though, you weren't even mad, and to refuse such a golden goose of an opportunity would be insanity. So you shook away the shock and squared up your shoulders as you let the man lead you into the makeup department. They touched up your face for the camera, even though no close-ups were going to take place, and fit you with a pair of skin-toned pasties accompanied by matching underwear. 

After you were all dolled up to the assistant director's satisfaction, he unceremoniously dragged you the rest of the way to the set, opened a door, and tossed you into a room.

You tugged the silk robe tighter around your body and looked around warily; the scene had been made up to be like one of those super-cheesy-over-the-top romantic movies. An extravagant bed sat in the middle of the room surrounded by rose petals and candles, which made you a little nervous. It would be just your luck to accidentally knock one over and burn the whole place to the ground.

"Hello, who are you? This is a closed set." Sasha's deep voice cut through your internal monologue causing you to notice his presence and looked up at him. He was tall. Really, really tall. You swallowed thickly.

As he took a step towards you, you instinctually took a step back and then remembered your voice, "I'm Y/N. They told me to come in because Rachel is sick and they really needed someone now and apparently I looked the part…?"

"Of course she is." Sasha rolled his eyes, ignoring your rambling, and huffed in frustration while he dragged a hand through his hair. He wore a matching robe that was untied and hung open shamelessly. You tried not to stare and focused on his face instead. The look in his eye was wild and angry and almost sad but it quickly disappeared after Sasha blinked. You noticed how flawlessly he put back on the mask of a debonaire. "Well, let's get to it then."

With wave of a hand, he turned to shed his robe and you took that as your cue to do the same. When you spun back around, you saw Sasha staring at you for a little longer than what you imagined was normal. He took his time imprinting the image of your nearly nude body in his brain. You could hardly believe it was something to gawk at, not that you were ashamed or anything - you were rather fond of your body and appreciated it. But he was Sasha fucking Mann; he could have anyone he wanted. What made you so special?

"I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to be doing here…" You spoke quietly and Sasha smiled at that, the first you've seen on his face in awhile.

It was a lovely sight.

"It's all very easy, you and I will act like we're having a very romantic affair and they are going to film through the walls." He came closer to you and you couldn't help but smirk a little at the funny cock sock he wore - it looked ridiculous. Clearing his throat, Sasha drew your attention back up to him. "Listen, Y/N, I know this might be a little strange and overwhelming but I promise to be nothing but respectful and professional. If you are in any way uncomfortable, please let me know and we will stop immediately. Okay?"

You couldn't help but nod dumbly, wasn't it just moments ago you were wishing Sasha would simply say hello to you? Now you were about to pretend to have sex with him…on camera.

"Are we - are we going to kiss?"

He chuckled and the sound went straight to your core. It was deep and throaty and you didn't realize sounds could be craved until that very moment. "Yes, some kissing and touching and perhaps a bit of pseudo-cunnilingus; all depends on how much time we have."

"Okay, let's start then." You hoped you didn't sound too eager but the way his smile stretched spoke volumes of your discretion. He called out 'action' but your focus was currently fixated on the way his chest hair traveled down all the way until it disappeared beneath his skin-colored underwear. 

If only you had an unrestricted view.

One of Sasha's impossibly large hands motioned you towards him. You had seen those hands before and appreciated them from the distance, but at this proximity, you carefully took mental notes of all your favorite details. Like how long his spider-like fingers were, how the thick veins protruded from the tops of his hands and ran up his forearms like tantalizing lightning strikes, how the ridges of his knuckles seemed to be chiseled out of stone, and how they all moved together like a symphony of skin that drew you in with a single beckoning curl. "Come here, Y/N."

This man had a magnetic pull that was too strong to resist, so you didn't even try, and easily stepped closer into his embrace. One of those aforementioned hands came up to cup your face. His thumb drew a line from your bottom lip down to the base of your throat and then back up to the curve of your chin. You barely comprehended his other hand clasping around yours and bringing it up to rest on his chest.

You couldn't help but smile while flexing your fingers against his solid body, delighting in the feel of his fur tickling your skin. He took notice of your intrigue and tightened his grip on your jaw, smiling when you inhaled sharply. 

Those long fingers reached across your waist, slightly digging into the supple flesh, and his thumb drew small circles along the hipbone.

Moving closer, you brought your other hand up and dove it into his thick expanse of hair. It was just as soft as you had imagined however many countless times before, but the sensation of feeling the silky locks sift through your fingers was far better than anything you could have made up. 

The butterflies in your belly were throwing a rager.

It may have been just your imagination, but you could have sworn that he leaned ever so slightly into your touch. That vulnerable look flashed again in his eyes but when he blinked, it was replaced by hunger. Those dark brown orbs stared right through your soul as Sasha slowly brought his lips down to meet yours.

This was not how you pictured your workday going and, if you were being perfectly honest, you figured it was all a dream of which you would be woken up from very soon. So why not enjoy it while it lasted? You ignored the blaring sirens that rang in your head that told you to be conscious of the dozen people watching your every move. Fuck 'em.

If they wanted a show, that's what they were going to get.

Throwing caution to the wind, you happily sank into the pillowy softness of his lips. His eyes were locked on your facial expressions and you gave up trying to maintain eye-contact the moment his velvet tongue teased open your lips.

There was no battle for dominance; you were willing and ply and perfectly content with letting him take the reins. His kisses were gentle at first but quickly grew deeper and more desperate.

The grip he had on your waist tightened considerably as he pulled you closer and then slid his hand up, spreading those fingers wide along the space between your shoulder blades. 

Sasha pulled his lips away from your mouth and began to drag them across to your neck, angling your head for better access. His breath was hot and heavy in your ear, "Arch your back a bit," his hand guided your body so that your breasts more firmly pressed up against his chest. He cooed, "Just like that, yes, good girl."

You couldn't help but moan at his words and it seemed to fuel the fire. He groaned loudly in return and devoured your mouth with a new fervor. 

Suddenly, both of his hands were cupping your ass and he lifted you up effortlessly. You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist as he took a few steps towards the bed.

"Watch out for the candles." You gasped at the movement and gripped his shoulders to steady yourself.

There was that damn chuckle again, "No need to, they're fake."

Before you could even think about his response, Sasha caught your lips again with another searing kiss. The second his tongue lapped against yours, all coherent thoughts escaped your mind.

Not breaking the kiss, he held your body against him as he delicately lowered the both of you onto the mattress. The weight of him tucked in-between your legs and pressed against you was utterly divine; you wished to never be bereft of the feeling again.

He grasped both of your wrists with one large hand and pinned them above your head. Your body writhed beneath his and caused a low growl to emanate from his chest. You felt the vibration travel across his skin and couldn't help but grin against his lips. Briefly, you wondered if this was at all affecting him the way it was you or if he was really that good of an actor.

Well, there certainly was a way you could find out.

At once, you gently sunk your teeth into his bottom lip, and, while using the leverage of his weight firmly pressing your hands above your head, you rolled your hips up to meet his. 

Sasha’s reaction did not disappoint.

"Oh, fuck." Those big beautiful brown eyes slid close as his body shuddered. He buried his face in the junction of your neck and panted against the sensitive skin. The evidence of his arousal was rather obvious now as you felt it pressed ardently against the inside of your thigh. He canted his hips and, with a grunt, gave a sharp thrust. "You're doing so very well."

Hearing your gasp, Sasha brought his lips back up to meet yours and the two of you began to set a pace. It became a blur of frantic grinding and clawing and teeth and skin and lips and tongue and sweat and saliva. He was everywhere at once; you could do nothing but hang on to the wrist that anchored you down and enjoy the ride.

You realized that the line of professionalism between the two of you had been long since crossed, but you could not have cared any less. The shocks that shot up your spine every time he rocked into you told you that you were completely and utterly fucked…or at least that was the sweet redemption you prayed for.

Sasha seemed to feel the same as he stroked your side all the way down to the curve of your ass and then brought his hand back up to palm your breast. 

Knowing that your panties were sopping wet and he was sliding his hardness along your slit made you let out a long moan to which he returned with another nice, hard thrust.

Instantly, you saw stars.

"Oh god, Sa-Sasha, I think…I think I'm going to-" You breathed the words in-between his relentless kisses but he paid no mind to your concern. If anything, it seemed to spur him on even more. 

The flimsy fabric between the two of you could barely even act as a barrier; his cock felt hard and hot as he rutted against you with abandon and you could feel the tension begin to boil over. You could focus on nothing besides the raw, wicked feeling of Sasha Mann enveloping your every sensation. Bright lights exploded in your field of vision as he sent you spiraling blissfully over the edge.

Your moans and sighs filled the room as your back arched, pressing yourself even closer to him. Sasha released your hands and instead curled an arm under your waist to hoist you up for a better angle. You immediately dragged your fingers across his scalp and held onto him as if your life depended on it. 

After a few more short, frantic thrusts, his whole body tensed and he pulled you tightly against him. Sasha groaned lowly in your ear and buried his face in the crook of your neck as he came.

All you could hear above your heart pounding was the mix of panting breaths as the two of you tried to maintain control of your breathing. 

After a moment, Sasha lifted his head to look you in the eye, and what you saw nearly broke your heart. His face was riddled with guilt.

"Y/N…" He started and then licked his lips, not quite knowing what to say, "I'm so sorry, I-"

The door to the room burst open and the two of you looked over with equally dazed expressions, feeling like two teenagers caught in the act. You had nearly forgotten where you were when you saw the assistant director standing there.

"Hey guys, we called cut like five minutes ago. Time to wrap up for the day." He said and gave you two a weird look.

"Oh, good. Well, thanks for letting us know, we'll be out in a minute." Sasha forced a smile and waved the other man away. The guy took that as his cue and closed the door behind him.

Awkward.

You turned your gaze back to the man above you, but he refused to meet your eye.

He began to ramble, but you were irritated with how he adamantly kept his head turned to the side. "I’m sorry, Y/N, this was completely inappropriate and I should have never let this get out of hand. I really fucked up and you have every right to -" 

You were having none of it and cut him off, reaching up to cup his cheek and gently forcing him to make eye-contact. The raw guilt and sadness that was written all over his beautiful face felt like a knife to your gut and you wanted nothing more than to make it go away.

"Hey, don't…it's okay, Sasha. There is no reason for you to apologize. I mean, I enjoyed that quite a lot." You smiled up at him and smoothed out some of the crinkles in his brow with the pad of your thumb, "Did you?"

He contemplated you quietly for a moment and his silence was starting to make you nervous. Did you read the situation wrong? Was this all a mistake? Were you going to be thrown off the set for violating the lead actor? A barrage of anxious thoughts and self-conscious questions ran through your mind at alarming speeds and every second of silence was torturous.

Until that warm beam of a smile broke across his face and it felt like sunshine on your heart.

"Yes, very much so." As he spoke, those big brown eyes searched yours for permission before he leaned down and delivered a sweet little kiss to your lips. Sasha tucked some hair behind your ear and cocked his head down at you, grinning easily, "Now how about we get cleaned up and I can take you out to dinner?"

"That sounds wonderful."

~~~

Taglist (just a few who I thought might be interested - message me if you want to be added or removed!) :

@festering-queen​ @vissidarte213​ @moony691​ @allis143​ @apocalypsenowish​ @torntaltos​ @hoefordarkness​ @thebeautyofdisorder​ @chrsitophwaltz​ @guardianbelle​ @gabesprincess​ @hiphop-gir​ @hyacinth-meadow​ @undead-notunreasonable​ 

[nisaadventures]

One year...

9/2/2020

Who needs sleep… I can’t right now… I’m no stranger to not being able to sleep. Stuck flowing in and out of tears… Remembering. 

What happened a year ago? 

One of her texts had come through the previous day… September 1, 2019 @ 10:42… “Doing good baby. Love you”

The texts prior were August 30th, prior to launch. “We’re here baby.” - Letting me know they arrived in Santa Barbara safely… and “Night baby. I love you.” 

In between were some cute GIFs of stitch, a bunny texting hearts, a kawaii kitty giving another a kiss on the cheek… Cute things. 

I don’t like to think about a year ago… The days ran together… Time felt hazy. 

Kuya called me… It was around 8am. The call actually woke me up. I had the day off for Labor Day.

Its not good… Do you know what boat Mom and Michael were on? Christina called me and told me there was a boat accident on the news… - Okay I don’t remember the verbatim… but these were the main points. 

As I calmly… and frantically… go to Michael’s office to look through papers… look on the computer… 

To put this into context… 

This same thing happened to me when Auntie Felisa passed… It was December of 2018… I was in Bali with Michael, Mom, and Evan… My phone was going off at 4am? Bali time… and it was Kuya… Calling me with the terrible news that Auntie Felisa had unexpectedly passed… and I then had to walk over to my sleeping Mom… her twin… to let her know something bad happened… as I started to cry… I ask if she wants to speak to Kuya… 

And prior to this… August of 2018… Michael had just picked us up at the airport… We just got back from Mexico for our friends’ wedding… when they told us that Uncle Richard had tragically passed in a spearfishing accident in Monterey… Cried the entire way home… 

So you could say our family had more than its share. 

I felt caught between holding onto hope that it COULD NOT be them… and the very real possibility that it could very well be… but we had no way of knowing at that moment. The coastguard couldn’t give us any details, or information because they didn’t know. We wanted the manifest for the boat, so we could make sure it wasn’t our loved ones… They said they would call us back… but they were responding to the worst maritime accident they’d ever seen… so its understandable. 

We were left to do our own detective work… and how did we find out? Nicole’s post of a photo of the boat with #Truthaquatics #conception… Or something like that… Like I said it was sort of a blur. 

So here we are… one year later… 

I couldn’t last on social media as the posts started rolling out… All of the photos.. Tributes… News articles... I read a few and started crying at work, so I stopped and just focused on the day...Got some assessments done, gave some vaccines, some case management… the usual busy day at work. Did a lot of running around. 

I’m kind of not sure how I feel right now. I feel like my mind is on defense… My guard is up. I don’t want to talk about it that much… I don’t want to see the things going up… I don’t want to be reminded of the worst day of my life… but even if I don’t want to… I still am. 

The pain is still the same… I get swept away in it so quickly and unexpectedly… I can shut it off a little better when I have things I need to do… It can wait until later… It can wait until I’m alone and have time to breath. 

I don’t want to make anyone feel bad for me. I’ve received many, “I wish I could take all your pain aways…” But I wouldn’t have anyone do that. 

My pain is mine because of how much was lost. If I didn’t love them as much as I do, I wouldn’t hurt as much as I do. I was blessed to have the time I did. I was blessed to be raised by such a light… with so much love… 

People dear to me always say how strong I am, how much they look up to me, how I carry on so well and how my mom would be so proud. Its true what they say, we experience the most change when we’ve hit our lowest points… and one year ago… that was MY lowest point. 

This last year...

-brought my family so close. We know the value of each day… the value of one another… 

-has made me move through life with a lens of appreciation and gratitude for the big and little things… hummingbirds in my yard… silver linings on clouds as the sun peeks through in a stream of light… the feeling of sand between my toes as the ocean washes over my feet… the gentle embrace of a loved one… deep and whole body laughter with loved ones… watching my physical manifestations of time grow up (the kids)... a home cooked meal… conversations full of genuine curiosity and reflection… drives and catch up time with my Kuya… return of loved ones into my life…

-has shown me that I need to continue to pour into my BIG friendships. I value them so much and this time has shown me time and time again how blessed I am. 

-has made me fearful. Fearful to think about my future… what I want life to look like… expectations��� making plans… love… 

-but its also made me brave… If I can survive this, no, thrive through this… then I can get through anything. There is a fearlessness that springs from knowing your worst pain. I feel that. So much good to come… and I smile while I write this because it is that real for me. 

-I learned so much more about myself than any other time in my life. What I’m capable of… How strong I am... How much love I have to give… 

-Focus on mental health and empathy guide me more than ever. Recognizing my feelings and dealing with them has helped me get through and come out on top. 

Honestly, I could write all night about this last year… I’m forever changed… 

Time is such a funny concept. I feel like so much has happened this last year… and yet so much didn’t happen. 

Its still so surreal... 

But here I am. I started this entry with tears in my eyes… and I’m ending with a smile. I guess that is what writing has done for me this last year… It has been my space of release and reflection… Its given you all a glimpse into my head… 

One thing I do want to always emphasize is that I don’t compare grief.. So if you are ever in a place of grief or sadness, just know that I am here for you. I always strive to understand and support in whatever capacity I can. Your feelings are valid. It is never a bad thing to feel sadness, anger, denial, regret… in moderation. Everything in moderation. Reflect on your feelings, understand where they stem from, and learn from them. 

Thank you for everyone who reached out today and this week… Thank you for looking after us… Thank you for loving us… Thank you for remembering with us...

Good night

[dwarven-beard-spores]

34for aziraphale and crowley

Thank you! This one turned into a sort-of sequel to this other one and basically I have a lot of feelings about the Dowling years

34. “You come to my room and wake me up at 4am to cuddle?“

Crowley liked children, as a general rule. They were more fun and more creative than adults, wildly wicked and wildly good all at once without really meaning any of it. Children liked Crowley back because Crowley told them things that adults wouldn’t. She had always been a fan of sharing forbidden knowledge. 

But Crowley wasn’t used to being responsible for a child. That was new and, well, not so bad really, though the fact that this particular child was asleep came as a relief. Warlock was just starting to manage walking and talking and had realized he liked those things so much there was no reason to ever stop.

But he’d finally settled down, and Crowley had retreated to her room with the mattress that was more comfortable and expensive than the Dowlings believed they had paid for and the black silk eye mask for extra protection against her snake eyes being noticed if she was disturbed in the night.

Which she was.

It was, perhaps, a testament to how alert one had to be to raise a child that Crowley woke up at all. She had slept through much greater disturbances than a light turned on, the creak of a floorboard, and an angel saying “dear,” coughing pointedly, and repeating slightly louder, “dear.“ 

“Hngk,” Crowley said. She slid the eye mask up her forehead, wincing at the light. “What are you doing here?”

Aziraphale stood next to Crowley’s bed (nowhere near the light switch), worrying his hands. He was not dressed as a gardener but as a bookshop owner, cleaner and softer. “I thought perhaps we ought to… compare notes,” he said.

Crowley sighed and sat up. “We’ve set a time to compare notes, and it’s in three days. Unless…” something cold bloomed throughout her insides. “Nothing’s happened, has it?” It was only a matter of time before Warlock started manifesting the sort of power that could bend and eventually destroy reality. In theory, the sooner that power showed up, the sooner Crowley and Aziraphale could start teaching Warlock that it were not for Apocalypse-starting, and that would be a good thing. In reality, Crowley had been dreading the moment she had to stop acting as though Warlock was an ordinary child and start being afraid of what he could do. She had, unfortunately, become somewhat attached to the boy, and the house, and seeing Aziraphale every day in the gardens.

“No,” Aziraphale said quickly. “Nothing’s happened. He’s still, you know, normal.”

“Oh,” said Crowley. “Well don’t do anything to wake him up. It took ages to put the little monster to bed.”

“Of course, of course.” Aziraphale shifted from one foot to the other. Crowley blinked at him expectantly.

“So, what?” she said finally. “You come to my room and wake me up at 4am to cuddle?“

"No…” Aziraphale answered again, looking slightly guilty. “Er, I thought we’d just talk.”

“I’m too tired to talk, Angel,” Crowley muttered. “Cuddles or nothing.”

“Well, in that case.”

And then Aziraphale was climbing into Crowley’s bed and spooning her, wrapping thick arms around her middle and sighing into the crook of her neck. Crowley instinctively relaxed back into him, bony spine cushioned by his soft stomach. The light clicked off.

“What’s this about?” she asked. It was her job to instigate cuddles; Aziraphale never thought of them on his own. Not that she minded, it was just… odd.

“Nothing,” Aziraphale lied.

Crowley rolled her eyes.

“It’s just… I was thinking,” Aziraphale said. “And I wanted to be here.”

“Mmm. You might be leaving out some details there.”

Aziraphale huffed and squeezed Crowley tighter. “I thought you were too tired to talk.”

“I am.” Crowley yawned and her jaw cracked. “But the thing is, if you’re here, it obviously can’t wait until morning.”

Aziraphale was silent for several long moments, as though waiting for Crowley to fall asleep. She didn’t.

“I was thinking about the bird,” Aziraphale admitted finally.

“Oh,” said Crowley.

“Eternity,” Aziraphale clarified.

“I remember,” said Crowley. It was mostly true, though she had been very drunk at the time. So thoughts of eternity made Aziraphale want to be here, cuddling her? Well then. She shivered, and Aziraphale held her closer, and she rested her hands on his.

What did one say to that? Nothing, even if Crowley had been awake enough to go into deep conversation. Eternity was eternity, but this dark morning was now. 

This time Aziraphale must have believed Crowley to be asleep, because after several false starts he murmured, “sleep well my dear.” Crowley didn’t have the guts to correct him.

[sassysweetcollegegirls]

I’ll Love you No Matter What pt2

Allura’s room wasn’t to far from Shiro’s and Keith was hidden pretty well in the huge hood of Shiro’s sweater. He couldn’t seem to get past the feeling of the things on his chest. With every step they jiggled and it annoyed him.

“Shiro are boobs always this bouncy?” He asked his honey sweet voice was dripping with annoyance. That bothered him to, since when did HIS voice become honey sweet.

Shiro stopped for a second to look at him and then he shook his head,” if you have questions about Boobs or girl stuff, your going to have have to ask Allura or Pidge.” He mumbled and Keith saw the red on his face.

“PIDGE IS FLAT AS A BOARD.” Keith hissed as they reached Allura’s room.

“She is still a girl regardless of the size of her breast Keith.” Shiro reminded him as he knocked politely on Alluras door,” One I expect you to treat with respect.”

Keith rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. The action was harder to accomplish with breast as he had to tuck his arms carefully under the two orbs and pretend they weren’t there.

Allura came to the door wrapped in a blue robe rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Shiro it’s 4am what’s going- Who is that?” Her eyes immediately drew to Keith who still had his arms crossed and was hiding in the hoodie.

“Allura we have a bit of a situation... Can we come in?” Shiro asks looking down the hall quickly ,” Also it would be good if you called Coran.”

“Shiro you can’t bring CONSORTS onto this ship you are a Paladin of Voltron! You can’t go sticking things in any weary traveler you find!” Allura looks panicked as she leads them into her room which is beautiful and larger than any Keith has been in including Shiro’s. She has a wide window that shows the floating outside of the ship and Keith approaches it with wide eyes.

“She’s not a consort Allura first of all. I like dick. Secondly that would be way to gross in this situation.” Shiro shakes his finger in her face he’s the only one allowed to be slightly combative to Allura in any manner.

“THEN WHAT IN ALL THE NAME OF LIONS IS GOING ON?!” Allura shouts and Keith takes off the hoodie and turns around and in the voice that belongs to him but really isn’t his he responds.

“My Name is Keith Kogane. I am Paladin of the Red Lion and I have boobs.” He looks at Shiro who has his hands over his face as Allura is standing mouth open almost appalled as he has lifted the tank top to show Allura the two fleshy orbs on his chest.

“Shiro please tell me she is joking.” Allura pleads rushing forward and pulling the tank top down and wrapping Keith in Shiro’s sweater again.

“Afraid not Princess. Keith I told you not to do that. “ Shiro groans

Keith mimicks Shiro carefully and then shifts away from Allura.

“And we’re one hundred percent sure this is Keith?” Allura is begining to pick at his clothes and look at him ,”did it take the umm?”

Keith rolls his eyes and drops his pants leaving his ass bare to the window for all of space to see,” I lost my penis to.”

“Can you not just flash people like this.” Shiro tries to wave his hand in front of his face blindly still attempting to give Keith modesty.

“Shiro is right Keith granted you and I now share a gender. Shiro is still male and generally we want to make sure that we have some modesty around them.” Allura says as Keith carefully pulls his pants up his point made

“THANK YOU PRINCESS!” Shiro uncovers his eyes and sighs.

“ I am still concerned on how this has come to be. Is this a normal human thing?” Allura asks innocently and Shiro has to stop to pinch the bridge of his nose and count to fifteen

“Just tell me Coran is on his way in.”

“Coran at your service! Though I will say it’s a bit early... what seems to be the DEAR WEBLUM! WHO BROUGHT A CONSORT ON TO THE SHIP?!?!” Coran is still in his royal silks and his hair is a disarray so when he arrives and says things like WEBLUM and Consort loudly Keith feels like he’s looking at someone who did drugs.

“I’m not a Consort! I’m Keith I just got fucking Boobs.” He opens the sweatshirt this time but he doesn’t lift up the shirt and Coran comes closer to inspect.

“How do we know this is the Red Paladin.” He asks picking at Keith’s clothes his hair and then eventually poking at one of the boobs experimentally.

“CORAN.” Shrio warns him the Dad Voice evident

“I am checking for the authenticity because if she is who she says she is then where is her penis?” Coran looks shamelessly in Keith’s shorts and Keith finally feels like someone is looking at this properly.

“Thank you! Finally someone whose not like ‘protect the boobs.’” Keith grumbled the voice like honey to smooth for his liking.

“Oh on the Contrary lad! I’m all for protecting the boobs. It’s just how did this occur?”

“I woke up like this. I was hoping you could tell me.”

Coran looked at him for another moment and then he stroked his mustache. “ I’d like to run a few scans and test to see what we can find. I’ll DNA test you as well. Then we’ll have to develop a plan from there. “

Keith didn’t like being a lab rat but the sooner they found out if he was fixable or if this was permenat the better.

***

Keith was waiting inside the pod completely naked (a new development ) as Allura ran a few scans of his body. They had already done a DNA test which had been 100% match to Keith. Shiro and Coran we’re outside playing blackjack until Keith put on a white robe that Allura found.

“Everything is normal.” Allura reported her head tilted and she looked at the scans “Coran can read these better though.”

Coran took the tablet and looked it over and then looked at Keith,” it seems you’ve completely switched genders overnight. Congratulations Lad.”

Keith wanted to cry. He had no idea what it meant to be a girl or even how to handle the body he was given it felt so fake almost Alien to him.

Shiro was the one who spoke up,” Is this permanent?”

“It’s hard to tell, part of our scanner is reading energy levels off this place on his neck. May I Keith?” Coran approached pointing to the spot on Keith’s neck where E’s symbol was tattooed.

Keith moved the hair carefully and held his neck out and Coran looked at the tatoo. “Lad when did you get an Altean spell tattooed on your skin?”

“It wasn’t a tatoo. I can’t get it to come off.” Keith hissed attempting to wipe it off. Of course the honey sweet voice of his had no bite and it just seemed pathetic when he said it.

“What on earth.” Allura said and she came to examine it. “Desire of thine heart.” She whispered.

“Keith where did this come from?” Coran asked tone serious and all of a sudden Keith felt self conscious about the woman in the woods calling herself E.

He looked to Shiro who nodded and then he recounted the tale of meeting E. How the ink had disappeared and then he’d woken this morning to it being back and how he had swapped genders and now he was here.

Keith rubbed his arms they were slender but they were still conditioned like Keith’s own muscles were. He looked at all the faces confused,” Can I go back please?”

He wanted back into his own skin. The one that Lance teased him about. He wanted to feel the scrape of his stubble when he forgot to shave which would be often, and the way the muscles in his shoulders seemed to ache when he got cold. This body just felt cold all over. It felt like it needed an extra layer and Keith wasn’t mad but he wanted to be able to wear his tank top and sweat and threaten to rub it all over Pidge if she didn’t move out of his way and something told him that this body wasn’t going to do that for him.

“Unfortunately until you’ve found what you truly desire you are stuck... though I don’t think I’ve ever seen the spell manifest this way before. And your sure she said her name was E?” Coran asked running his hand through his hair

“Yeah and she had white eyes and white hair.” Keith whispered looking at his hands.

“Do you know her?” Shiro asked and Keith looked to his brother wanting clarification for what was happening who had done this.

“Nope but I’ll do some digging. For now, Keith your going to have to survive. I’ll see if I can find a reversal, Altean spells are hard to solve though more like complicated riddles.” Coran tried soothing and Keith wanted him to clap him on the back like he normally would but Coran did no such thing because Keith was a girl now. Girls had to be handled differently.

***

Keith was standing in Allura’s room his arms crossed uncomfortably as she dug carefully through some of her drawers. 

“I know how difficult this must be for you.” She claimed as she held up a black article of clothing that Keith had no clue what she could possibly do with because it was was simply two strings and and a triangle. 

Keith rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. Shiro’s hoodie had provided warmth and comfort and strangly this weird smell that Keith wanted to hide in. So he kept the hood pulled up. “ Really does your genatilia switch randomly?” he asked. He was still not used to the smooth honey voice that had somehow become his. His voice had been gravely and coarse but it was still attractive in it’s own way. This new voice was soft and smooth and it sounded like it was filled with want. 

“Well No, but some Altean’s decide to switch later in life.” Allura shut a drawer and then she turned to smile at Keith,” Some feel so uncomfortable with their bodies they just switch permanently. You have the opportunity to learn here Keith.” 

“Learn what?”

“What it’s like to be a woman. To be treated like a woman in battle, there are numerous lessons here Keith.” 

“What about all this Tatoo shit?” 

“OH. That too. I need you to strip for me please.” 

Keith looked down at Shiro’s sweater and then at Allura who stood in front of him holding a black what he thought to be a black bra and a pair of panties that were lacy and cute and that looked like they would be really soft. “ What are those?” 

“Well this is a pair of panties. They are super soft and comfortable.  And THIS little number is a Bra. That I hope will be big enough for you because you are quite a bit bigger than I am.” She held each article explaining as Keith undressed suddenly shy about what he was doing. He knew that the body he had now was different and he had been showy with it earlier but that had been because he felt like no one was taking it seriously. 

“Wait bra’s have different sizes?” He exclaimed

“Yes, Pidge wears AA’s and I wear C’s and this is a D” Allura claimed looking at the tags as she approached and handed Keith the panties. Keith put them on and he had to admit they were soft. Softer than any set of boxers he had ever worn. The thought made him blush. “Do you know how to put this on?” 

“Does it look like I know how to put this on?” Keith grumbled as Allura handed him the bra. His hair was flowing down his back and he was holding his breast in his arms. He shifted from foot to foot cold. 

“You truly are our red paladin.” Allura smiled,” Alright bend forward and let your breast go. Im going to bring the bra around your front and you slide your arms in the straps and I’ll clip it in the back. Alright? Ready?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

A hand goes to his back pushing him forward and he complies with the directions,” Not really.” 

Of course the feeling of his breast sitting in cups is different than of them being free. Keith thinks he likes them better free but the feeling of them contained is kind of relaxing to him. He isn’t worried about them bonking into his arms so much as he is and the band around his chest doesn't prevent him from breathing. “Are they always this bouncy?” he asks standing as he looks down at them. The flesh is still there just not so free to sway. 

“I’ve never thought of them that way but yes. You get used to it after a while. Now we will have to find you something appropriate to wear.”  Allura says starting to dig through all the dresses and things. 

“I draw a hard line there. I absolutely refuse to wear a dress.” 

“But Keith. You cannot expect to wander around in sweats and Shiro’s hoodie all Day.” 

“My clothes are just fine.” 

“NO. NO  and NO. They are not tailored to the phemonen physic.” Allura has a yellow thing in her hand and Keith is looking at it with fear. 

“Pidge wears boys clothes.” He challenges. 

“Pidge’s clothes fit her.”  Allura crosses her arms. She is not giving in. 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“I SAID NO.” 

“I said yes and there are no two ways about this. Or would you rather I toss you out in the hall in your undergarments?” Allura has taken Shiro’s hoodie and Keith’s sweatpants and she is holding them high above her head. 

“This is not a fair fight.”  Keith whines giving in as she stows the articles away. 

“ Now put this on. And I’ll brush your hair and We’ll be ready for breakfast!” Allura sang tossing Keith a short yellow floral dress that didn’t make sense but he pulled it on closing his eyes. He kept his knee’s together and gripped his wrist an sat in her chair. 

“Your going to pay for this I hope you realize.” He challenged. 

She smiled at him through her mirror and Keith’s own soft feminine face looked back grumpily ,” OH. I Know.” 

***

Keith stood outside the kitchen. He was picking at the the hem of his dress and looking at the toe of his boot. He knew that avoiding everyone wasn’t going to fix it and being afraid was natural but he wasn’t sure how everyone was going to take the whole ‘ I turned into a girl overnight and my voice is soft as honey and I have boobs now.’  

The dress Keith wore was cute he had to admit it was cute with a little scoop neck and short sleeves. If someone like Pidge wore it or Allura he was sure they would have trouble keeping their eyes to themselves.  Keith though. Keith just felt like a little imposter who was trying to hard. When Shiro stepped up next to him and gave him a once over he waited patiently. 

“ I should let Allura get ahold of Pidge.”  He said gently 

“ I tried using that as an excuse not to dress me like this and She said that Pidge’s clothes fit her. I feel naked Shiro. “ Keith grumbled the honey sweet sounded sticky instead of grumpy. 

“Well to late to back out now. Time for breakfast. Are you ready?” 

“No.”

“That’s the spirit.” Shiro smiled guiding Keith forward one hand on his lower back as the door to the kitchen popped open. Keith closed his eyes not entirely ready to face the reality of what was about to face him on the other side of the door. 

[averyxadeline]

-UNDER CONSTRUCTION UNDER CONSTRUCTION

PLEASE BE KIND PLEASE BE KIND-

There is debris in the young girl’s eyes, or perhaps she is no longer a young girl. Its been a while. She wakes up with the sourness of sawdust in her mouth and enjoys her coffee with a touch of graininess. Her dreams alternate between a good one, and then a bad one, depending on what God’s feeling like tonight, but the sound of drilling is a constant. But amidst the rubble, there is a quiet contentment that sits upon the back of the bee-like busyness that reverberates across 4ams. The signboards have been up for a while now; she’s glad people haven’t noticed them in the forms of “I’m sorry I’m busy over the weekend!” or “I need to make a move first!”. They’re not bad things or times, she simply wishes to go home earlier to talk to the stars that night. She’s learned to celebrate them as an equal to the day and acknowledge that her working hours are also lovingly distributed into them. It’s been a while since writing hasn’t been a place of pain.

So I don’t quite know what I’m building in this aftermath.

I know it’s foundation, I barely have a blueprint but I know a little bit more about what love means. I know the firm foundation of the Maker’s love that’s consistently cradled my falls with its concrete. I know how things bruise and what scratches I need to hide with hung-up picture frames and I know the good faces, and the bad ones, that deserve a rightful place in them. I always tell people, in the aftermath of calamity, the most lasting mark is erasure, it’s whiteness is destructively felt as a returning eternity. It’s the most violent and yet deceivingly gratifying thing to do in the short-run, so I’m glad I chose to swallow all the pain at once and remember instead. One day I’ll tell my children that you don’t get to edit the past, you may thank it until you’re tired and then pat it on the back when it surfaces 2 months later. 20 years from now, when the dog wakes me up, I will get up and tell them over breakfast that I dreamt of You and I will thank You for being proof of their mother’s history that preceded them the way that they exceed me now. It’s a visual eternity that sits at the back of our heads until one day you forget the name of the bar you laughed with them at or the punchline of the joke that was always repeated in their presence. Snippets and snippets and snippets. Bricks and bricks and bricks. My old house got demolished and it taught me that homelessness will not predicate a poverty mindset forever unless you get accustomed to the dust in your nose. I’m also grateful that in this entire experience, I’ve not had to beg. I’ve been fed and nourished warmly by the soup of loving friends and family, some living in hermit-shells and others in mansions, but thankfully all in the same neighborhood. I would apologize for getting dust on your shoes but I know you’ll tell me not to and I’ll smile weakly and you’ll smile knowingly and pat me on the back. This pat, this lovely kiss of a gesture, has manifested in memes sent, photo booth pictures, long voice-messages with memory verses and making sure that I don’t have to visit museums alone. Please know that I’m grateful. But I’m terribly sorry for getting dust on y–

Okay, I’m inviting all of you in faith to a house that has not been built yet! Thank you for clapping when I laid out the foundation. I still stamp on it fortnightly not to test if it’ll falter, but because sometimes it’s nice to know that even if you haven’t got a roof yet, at least you’ve got the floor. I will build my life upon your love, it is a firm foundation. And I will put my trust in you alone and I will not be shaken. On every bad day that I’ve woken up to, I thank God for concrete and I take my shoes off in church. So at least the vertigo stopped. At least I get a good view of the stars which I wouldn’t appreciate if certain seasons didn’t require the ripping-off of roofs. One cloudy night when I was crying by the poolside, I felt God say, “My goodness is like the stars above; you know two things, that they’re there, and in an abundance that you can’t see or comprehend.” Ever since then, I’ve been counting stars, especially wherever I don’t see them. For that, I’m in no rush for a roof.

Morning comes and with new mercies, I really really lust for sunlight. Once, recently, I woke up from a dream so surreal that it happily merged itself with my real bedroom and it’s been hard for me to get up on the wrong side ever since. In it, I saw my own toes peek out from under the covers intertwined with someone else’s. Upon them, an enormous blast of orange sunlight flooded upon them so intensely that my toes felt heavier all morning. There was something about the sunlight banishing the mesh of our entire beings under the covers and summoning our ugly little toes to a begrudging new day. This is what I want. To wake up to orange sunlight and its illuminating game of footsie. I went to a museum with friends recently and for an interactive time capsule, they asked us to write down what we want for our futures. I don’t blame or condescend upon my friends for specifying the relationship, career or family they desired, we all have a picture of what that looks like and one day, I too intend to frame it up. But for now, I wrote, “Late mornings, photo frames, love, orange sunlight, ugly toes, and wide wide windows.”

If your windows are wide enough, you don’t quite need to worry about which door opens and which one closes. In this season of my life, kindness to oneself looks a lot like wide wide windows. I am constantly trying to welcome abundance; to crack a window when things get too much and remind myself that I still deserve to breathe even when the door is jammed. It also ensures that plenty of sunlight pours in to water the baby shoots that deserve new beginnings. In the confidence of its orangeness, any spirit of trepidation or fear dissipates with the new day. I made a vow to myself that I would water myself with the right things and voices. You cannot immediately recover from your own state of melancholy but it is more so your responsibility than anyone else’s to place yourself in environments that are conducive to healing. Indeed, recovery is a privilege but to embark on a journey towards healing is a choice. So on a daily basis, I choose to surround myself with people that provided safe and fragrant dwellings, I sieve through prophetic patternistic “maybes” that the world likes to impose upon us, and I look out for the voices of alternative hope that teach me how repetition can teach rather than enslave me. And above all, I choose to believe that love remains a selfless entity that is strengthened in me through the departure of loved objects that have found their own existences apart from me. Only in the abundance of sunlight do I have the strength to declare, “Amo: Volo ut sis! I love you so I want you to be!“, I want you to experience a beautiful day without it having to be my beautiful day! Please continue, I do not need to own your desire, don’t worry about me, I will survive, please enjoy. It is only in the dark that we grapple and grasp and attempt to possess because we do not have the dexterity to wait for the new morning that has never failed us before. So enjoy your morning, but sometimes I miss your toes.

The drilling is getting a bit louder, especially between the hours of 4-6am. Please excuse me while I quietly attempt to build a civilization without a blueprint. The dog has woken and the new dawn shall break soon. I’m running out of words, the bricks are getting few and there’s some dust in my eyes. Perhaps I fear my own solitude against the orangeness that should invade us in about an hour. But for all that’s been said, if you’re reading this, thank you for sorting through my rubble of words with me. It’s been a while since I’ve dared to come back here but I’ve decided against homelessness. Thank you for the pat on the back and the housewarming. Thank you for teaching me that I do not need to be completed to be congratulated.

I don’t know how long this construction will last, maybe forever, but thank God for wide windows and thank you for your kindness.

Under Construction Please Be Kind -UNDER CONSTRUCTION UNDER CONSTRUCTION PLEASE BE KIND PLEASE BE KIND- There is debris in the young girl's eyes, or perhaps she is no longer a young girl.