#this was far too long to leave uncut

[cherryc1nnam0n]

Separation anxiety | Brahms Heelshire x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Ever since Brahms revealed himself he can't stand being far from you, specifically, out of you...

Cw: Anxiety, separation anxiety, trust issues, abandonment issues, nsfw, smut, vaginal sex, self indulgence, mentions of pregnancy

From morning to night, Brahms had to be inside you, all day if it was possible

He had a huge sex drive, one that was almost insatiable and he needed you all the time, needed that tight pussy around his cock, he needed to be balls deep in you 24/7

It was the only way he felt close to you, like he belonged somewhere and that he was loved

So, whenever he had the chance, he would fit his cock inside you

For a man that's lived in walls for years, you didn't expect him to have such a huge and magnificent cock, it was huge, uncut and fat

Many mornings you woke up to him burying his dick inside you, making you moan and whine from just waking up "Brahms... It's too early" you would whine at him

But he would look into your eyes, pleading you "Please Y/n... I need it... I need to feel you, to be inside you..."

So he would fuck you until you whined and pushed him off, or he would sit inside you for as long as he wanted to, or until he eventually fucked you

It didn't matter where, when or how, he would enter you when he wanted

You could be in the kitchen, cooking lunch or washing dishes and he would yank your pants or pajamas down and fuck you right where you were

Reading a book in the living room, he would spread you open and fuck you while you read your book, like nothing was happening

In the shower he would just go in with you and fuck you against the wall

Brahms was insatiable and you knew it, so you got used to never wearing panties around him, just putting on some shorts or pajama bottoms and go about your day, waiting for when he would get a raging boner and would come looking for you to satiate his hunger

"One day you'll get me pregnant Brahmsy and we'll have to raise a baby..." You said mindlessly flipping through a book as he pounded into you from behind on your shared bed

He groaned into your ear, "That's my goal... That way you can't leave me... You'll never leave... You'll have to stay here forever, raising a baby with me..." He said in between heavy breaths and moans

"Mmmmm, who said I was leaving honey?"

He smiled under his mask, pounding you harder now

Eventually he did get you pregnant... What did you expect?

[wutheringcaterpillar]

I’ll Always Be Your Boy

Summary: Tommy reminisced back to his lost love, his first and only love. It had been years since he’s seen you, and one night when he pulls into your driveway, it all becomes too much for far too long. He needed to be reunited with you, even if the cost was his life.

Warnings: Suicide, drug addiction (opium), trauma, flashbacks, mentions of death, mention of tommy’s mom, mention of miscarriage

Partially inspired by the song below, be prepared with tissues y’all🥹

The brisk midnight air rolled in through the foggy car window as he pulled into the rocky driveway, still trying to figure out what the fuck he was doing here. Tommy hadn’t seen you in years but yet you still crossed his mind, he still worried about you even though he had taken the most vulnerable part of you and shattered it into a million tiny pieces. Now here he was staring at the damaged, once white house that he once promised to fix up before the argument. The wooden fencing now fading, the deteriorating paint now detailing the uncut grass, green vines covering the width.

Pulling out his cigarettes, he brushed the unflamed end over his plush, chilled lips.

The trees bristled, whistling and bellowing through the atmosphere, scattering leaves around the yard.

Tommy thought back to a a particular afternoon, reminiscing the way you laughed when he tripped and fell into a mud puddle, the way you smiled brightly whenever he would partake in hobbies you enjoyed such as creating masterful works of art out of chalk on the stoned sidewalk. 

You were graceful, mesmerizing everything Tommy could’ve asked for in a woman, most of all you cared for him. Making him soup when he was feeling ill, running a warm bath to a temperature of his liking, knowing how to calm him from an angry fit or a stressful day. 

God did he miss you, he’d do anything for the chance to take it all back, to treat you kindly and cherish you, give you anything your little ecstatic heart desired, but he fucked it up and he blamed himself every second of every passing day.

He wished and prayed that you knew there was no moving on, you held his heart and he was still that boy you fell in love with all that time ago.

A day hadn’t passed where he didn’t think of you but times were becoming tough. The business was failing, any woman that approached him, he simply ignored, only wanting you back.

Stepping out of the car, he approached the house ignoring the silhouettes of storm clouds rolling in accompanied by a deep, rumbling thunder. 

Scanning the rooms, he stopped near the kitchen doorway, glancing at the stove where he had partaken in baking sweets with you. He didn’t like desserts himself but what you made you happy made him happy, and he’d always at least taste whatever you made. He would try to help, to assist in rolling dough, gathering ingredients and putting trays in the oven but you always shoved him playfully away after burning a batch of baked goods, putting him instead on the job of decorating. 

Smiling softly, he carried on, stopping every now and then as he walked down the crooked, abandoned hallway, glancing at the dusty photos that still stay portrayed on the walls.

A photo of your first date in a milkshake shack, splitting a chocolate shake while giggling with one another, this was just moments before you had convinced him to go rollerblading and he can still say to this day, that was the most fun he’s ever had, for some reason it made him feel alive.

As he carried on scanning the house, he’d heard objects moving while the abandoned floor boards creaked. He could see the shapes of shadows in the distance but he didn’t feel scared or endangered. Perhaps it was you.

“It’s just me love, nothing to be afraid of.” He wished he could see you, he had missed you tremendously but still blamed himself for your death. He should’ve been there, he could’ve stopped it, and now he was reaping the consequences with a broken heart.

When he approached his final destination, he was greeted with a hole in the rickety old door, flashing back to the time where you’d had your first and last fight over what now seemed to be a pointless event, an event he regretted. If he had knew that would be the last time he saw you, the final thing he’d said to you, the frigid, cold words would’ve never escaped his lips, and he knew very well that the argument was a misunderstanding.

Dragging his feet over to the bed, he removed a bottle of opium from his jacket. That was the only thing getting him through this. He had tried to off himself multiple times, just wanting to see you once more, they even had to confine him in the draft which was nearly unheard of.

Pulling out a needle, he punctured his arm after increasing the dose. Almost instantly he could feel his thoughts slowing, a euphoric rush running through his veins causing him to feel tired and lay down on the abandoned bed. The awful fight replaying in his mind.

Bursting through the door, you jumped in the sitting position of your bed, the book in your lap tumbling down onto the floor from being startled. 

Tommy stood in the doorway, bottle of whiskey in hand with drenched, disheveled hair from the pouring rain.

“Where have you been? I needed you, and you weren’t there!” Tears brimmed at your eye lids seeing him in this state, knowing that you should’ve been there but you couldn’t. 

Standing up while the tears streamed like a river down your heated cheeks, you closed the door and turned to Tommy.

His angelic blue eyes had a clear perception of pain, himself also crying. Tommy never asked you for anything, not once.

“Y’know not everything is about you, maybe if you stopped and looked around every once in awhile you’d realize that but I guess it was stupid on my part to believe you ever truly loved me. You are just a selfish girl, and I can’t believe that for a moment I thought you gave a shit about me.” You tugged at his arm, begging and pleading for him to hear your side of the story as to why you weren’t present at his mother’s funeral but he wouldn’t listen. Hearing your excuses only fueled the anger and extreme upset inside of him but he didn’t know you were dealing with a loss of your own.

“Listen to me, please! I love you Tommy I do, you just don’t understand I-“

“No, no don’t do that. You don’t get to do that I have a crystal clear understanding that I can’t be with someone who doesn’t and never has given a shit about me. Enjoy your life Y/N, because I’m not sure if I want to be in it anymore if all it’s going to be is excuses. I really thought you were different, but you’re just like any other useless whore.” Slamming his fist through the door in aggravation and immense upset, the sound echoed through the house. His words stung like a bee, a sharp and direct hit to your heart.

The following morning Tommy woke from a deep slumber, arm reaching for you only to realize you weren’t there, half of the bed was empty.

He had regretted those things he said, he should have heard you out but all of his withheld emotions came crashing down on him like a hurricane. 

Getting up and dressed, he decided the best way to apologize was to go and retrieve your favorite flowers and take you out on the town. He could be such an ass sometimes but he was still learning. 

Heading to the kitchen Pol was shocked to see him out of bed, bright eyes and bushie tailed, dressed to the tens.

“I’m surprised you’re up so early given the events of last night. If you need anything don’t be frightened to reach out Thomas, we all need a little help sometimes. Sweet girl she was.” 

“Who are you talking about? If it was that Lee girl I’m not surprised, bat shit crazy she was.” Tommy poured himself a cup of tea, adding only cream before reaching for the paper and sitting at the kitchen table.

“No one told you?” Tommy looked at his aunt confused while taking a sip of his tea. Pol relaxed her tone knowing full well this would break her nephew’s heart. With sympathetic eyes, she settled her hand atop of his.

“There was a fire last night. Y/N didn’t make it.” Tommy froze, this couldn’t possibly be true. Pol could see the panic and disbelief in Tommy’s baby blue eyes. When she tried to walk over and console him, he bolted for the door needing to see for himself.

In a fiery fit of anger and sadness he sped over to your house, seeing the damage that has been done. In that moment his heart shattered into a million pieces and he punched the steering wheel repeatedly.

“Fuck!” The thick walls of his mind were closing. If he had controlled his temper, he would’ve been there, he would’ve been able to pull you out of the fire and save the most important piece of his heart. Why you? Why not him? He had nothing to live for without you. He never even got the chance to apologize.

The only thing that seemed to be intact was your car parked in the grass near the mailbox. Stumbling out of his car, he needed to know, know what it was you weren’t telling him that day. What it was he didn’t even give you a chance to say.

Rummaging through clothes, and misplaced papers and pens, he opened the glove box only to find something that changed everything the day of his mother’s funeral.

Pulling out the small piece of paper, his hands trembled as he stared down at the ultrasound of what would have been your bundle of joy. 

All of your emotions from that day seemed to seep into his mind. You must’ve been so scared, felt so alone. Why didn’t you tell him?

Flipping the paper over he noticed writing.

TIME OF DEATH: 11:25 am.

11/20/1913 

10 weeks old.

You had miscarried just two hours before the funeral and he was too busy shouting out you to know. The tears sprang freely, his heart aching as he wept in the passenger seat feeling the world crashing down him, accompanied by the profound loss of someone he loved.

As the opium kicked in, he lay his dreary, spinning head onto the singed pillow, clenching his fists in what was left of your crisp sheets.

His eyes became heavy, limbs weak while his head span in a euphoric frenzy. Your face flashed through his mind, memories and moments shared together. 

The sun was rising through the window peering in through the burnt curtains as Tommy’s vision became blurry and he could see sparkling orbs forming aside him a figure kneeling on the floor with what looked to be a child.

“Come daddy, mommy’s waiting.” The young girl’s voice was subtle, calming. She lay her delicate small hand on her father’s.

Through his clouded perception he could see she had his bright blue eyes and your facial features. She was beautiful just like her mother.

Beads of sweat formed upon his temple, the rush taking over his body bringing a sense of tranquility. Just before he stopped breathing, your voice spoke melodically through his head, bringing a sense of comfort.

“I’m here now. You can let go. We’ve been waiting for you.” He had never felt more at ease then he did now, drifting off into unconsciousness, awaiting his sweet descent into his lover’s arms being reunited as a family, forever content.

[respectthepetty]

WeTV has the uncut version of Cooking Crush, and I'm upset about it reporting the additions. I did it for the first episode, and I'm going to continue because it's wild what is being left out! Here's what you missed if you watched the YouTube version of episode two:

The Chefs go eat in the cafeteria, but Prem is too worried that Ten will pop up to eat.

Fire spots the group and confronts Dy over the contact information/phone call. Fire tells Dy it wasn't okay for Dy to trick him and chases him (Dy calls Fire "Firefly")

They place bets that Dy is going to get punched.

Fire chases Dy through the tennis courts,

but Dy, who easily could've escaped, CLOSES A GATE so Fire can catch him! (Fire does NOT hit him but Dy kinda wants him to)

Fire, once again, tells Dy how he doesn't like being teased or pranked and what Dy did wasn't funny to him. (This is all in the first five minutes!)

So later, when Dy comes back and gives Fire the right contact info, Fire teaches him how to play tennis.

Ten not-so-secretly tries to watch Prem making the food.

And it's clear he already likes him because little hearts keeping popping up as he watches Prem. (one of the hearts is right behind Prem, and another is popping up by the apron)

And in case you missed it in the edited version, there is a heart behind Ten as he eats the food.

After the date with Jane, Dy texts Firefly, and Firefly, who was thinking about Dy, lies and tells Dy it was a GREAT DATE WITH JANE (he puts it in caps)

Which upsets Dy, but his friend keeps telling him to leave Fire alone.

Long before calling Ten, Prem considered selling EVERYTHING to get the money. His phone, his laptop, his watch. Everything!

Prem doesn't ask anything over the phone. Ten picks up on something being wrong over the phone, so Prem actually shows up at Ten's house the next day to apologize.

Ten yells at Prem and tells him he doesn't want lessons anymore because Prem isn't consistent. (This is the halfway point)

Prem tells him that his grandmother scolded him and he saw the error in his ways. He begs for a second chance on bended knee which is a direct parallel to what Ten did the first episode.

After Ten tastes the food, he immediately transfers the 50,000 baht, and the sister questions how Prem got it so fast.

She says she appreciates Prem and tells him she won't lose it this time.

Once Prem leaves the apartment after the cooking show, Dy tries to tell his homie ghost stories, which he is not about that life.

After shopping, Ten asks Prem why he goes to the market for the food. He tells Prem he can go to the supermarket instead since he thinks Prem is trying to save him money. He said he'll pay extra for the food, but Prem tells him he likes going to the market. Ten then tells Prem to follow him home.

So Firefly (I'm keeping the nickname) and Dy are far more fleshed out in the unedited version and we already see the reason they are the second couple, while Ten and Prem are already in love with each other.

I'm salty like those Great Lakes in Utah.

[sunnyrealist]

Chapter 56: Keep Me Close

The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars

Summary and Details…

Previous Chapter Recap/Context: Sebastian wrote a letter to Ominis, contacting him for the first time in nearly a decade in hopes of reconnecting and learning about Anne's final years and marriage. Unfortunately, Kate's owl returned a day later with the same letter Sebastian had sent out. He was devastated, assuming that Ominis didn't want anything to do with him post-Azkaban. Kate and Sebastian discussed it over a hot cup of tea. He decided he would still attempt to contact Ruby, his close friend from his fifth year at Hogwarts. In this chapter, we see Seb's final day off of work from the DMLE, in which he sends the letter; in addition, he arranges for some romantic surprises for Kate, and takes part in a portrait session with her.

Pairing: 25-year-old, post-Azkaban Sebastian Sallow x 24-year-old Kate Mayflower (my OC), the assistant librarian at Hogwarts

Art Credit: @giselsann-opencommissions made all three of these gorgeous portraits.

Content warnings: In general, this is rated 18+, so minors should not read or interact with this story. This chapter is overall pretty sweet and romantic, but there's a brief mention of making love.

The full chapter is available below the cut; it can also be found on AO3 (link is posted below). Please leave some feedback if possible, especially if you like what you read! 🥰

Chapter 56: Keep Me Close

The next afternoon, Sebastian amends his letter to Ruby to inform her that he was unable to contact Ominis. Maybe she would have some news to share on that front, or maybe she would ignore his correspondence entirely. He wouldn’t know unless he tried, and with the disappointment of Ominis’ silence, he figured it couldn’t hurt much more to take another blow. 

He had taken far worse.

“I’m so sorry about last time, Hootie,” he murmurs soothingly to Kate’s owl, holding up the letter. “Hopefully this won’t be a repeat. I’ve got a field mouse right here as a special treat for your trouble, just in case.” 

Hootie makes an excited noise, chomping onto the dead mouse’s tail and then accepting the letter in his talons.

“Please bring this to Ruby McKinnon.”

Sebastian sighs nervously as the snowy owl takes off, not sure if it is worth the effort to hope.

It had been a busy morning. 

Kate had informed him, without a hint of exaggeration, that it would take her a great deal of time to prepare for their portrait session, and that she did not want him to see her until she was completely ready. It was clear she planned to pull out all the stops when it came to her clothing, accessories, hair, and perhaps even makeup. 

Sebastian knew getting ready would not take him all that long, so he threw himself into rewriting Ruby’s letter and he had gone into town to “run some errands.” Kate hadn’t questioned him at all, which was perfect. 

He smiles, pulling the custom gold locket out of his pocket to admire it. 

The jeweler had made quick work of the engraving, and Sebastian was quite impressed. He definitely planned to return there for future purchases… and perhaps to sell future treasure. He and Kate would have more adventures - of that he was certain. With the money he kept from the centuries-old jewelry and precious uncut gems he sold, he was also sure that he would likely be back to buy more gifts for Kate. Christmas, Valentine’s Day, her birthday next year… and maybe even surprises in between.

He had also stopped at the Three Broomsticks to make a reservation for a private room on an upper level.

A few moments later, Sebastian knocks on the bathroom door. “Kate - how much more time do you need in there? I still have to shower.”

“Oh!” was her response from behind the door. “Erm… I’ll be moving into the bedroom in just a few minutes, but I’ll still need time in there, too.”

He chuckles. “That’s fine. I’ll lay out my clothes in the study now so that I don’t disturb you.”

“Okay. Tell me when you’re done, and I’ll sneak back into the room,” she requests. 

“Not a problem,” he replies, finding her secretive preparation amusing. He heads right into the bedroom to grab his new tailored suit and undergarments. 

About an hour later, Sebastian is ready. He strolls into the bathroom to view himself in the mirror and to make sure his hair is still mostly cooperating. 

His eyebrows shoot up as he examines himself in the black formal evening suit. He has never seen himself dressed in such… fancy clothing. For his entire life, he never had a need for this kind of attire. He fixes a stray hair, then straightens the tan vest. 

Though he feels a bit out of his element, Sebastian has to admit to himself that he looks good. 

“Almost ready, Kate?” he calls out towards the bedroom.

“Just a few more minutes!” Kate answers. “I’ll come out soon - I promise!”

Sebastian chuffs under his breath and figures he ought to find a way to pass the time. He wanders into the living room and sits, then thinks better of it. He doesn’t want to wrinkle the suit before pictures are taken. 

He wanders towards a shelf with books, reading off some of the titles, none of which he recognizes. Emma, Persuasion, Sense and Sensibility, Little Women, Jo’s Boys, Wuthering Heights, Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus, The Tempest, Much Ado About Nothing… Likely all Muggle books. He pulls out the only title he recognizes - Homer’s Epics: The Iliad and The Odyssey, flipping through the pages to view the illustrations of the ancient Greek gods and goddesses and fierce mortal warriors, lingering on a picture of Odysseus reuniting with Penelope in Ithaca. He’s about to continue on, when he finally realizes he is being stared at.

“Hi,” Kate says shyly, poking her head around the corner. “I’m ready.”

Sebastian immediately shelves the book, then watches her step out, his jaw dropping unironically. He swallows, his eyebrows lifting and pupils dilating.

She looks like an angel. A golden angel.

Kate’s hair is arranged elegantly, half up and half down with soft, blonde curls flowing to her waist. A light dusting of makeup is on her face, showing off curled eyelashes, rosy lips, and a glowing complexion. She’s wearing golden earrings and a golden necklace that perfectly compliment her golden gown, which perfectly accentuates her figure. There are delicate straps on her shoulders and additional wider sleeves that hang just off her shoulders in a gauzy fabric that flows across the top of the bodice. Just a touch of cleavage is visible. The bodice features embroidered golden leaves. In the center of the neckline, the leaves form a kind of flower. The gown hugs her waist, and then the skirt flows out, sweeping the floor with a ruched fabric trim. The skirt features many embroidered leaves in various earth tones, connected by vines. Her shoes are hard to see, but the light yellow shoes poke out just enough that he can see a shiny little accent bow on each.

“You- You look… stunning,” Sebastian stammers, his face getting red. “Gods… you are gorgeous.”

Kate blushes, her cheeks turning a little pink. “Thank you.” She eyes Sebastian up and down, then adds, “And you are incredibly handsome. The formalwear suits you. You look very dapper.” She takes a few steps towards him and kisses his cheek.

Sebastian tells her in a serious tone, “I mean it. You look absolutely beautiful. I don’t think… I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as beautiful as you.”

Kate smiles, basking in the compliment for a moment. Then, she says, “We should probably apparate. I’d hate to see our clothes get dirty on a walk.”

“Agreed. Let’s go.”

Sebastian had never been inside of a portrait studio. Whenever his family had had pictures taken in the past, a photographer had always come to their home. His parents were proud of their house and always wanted it featured in mementos. 

The photographer was skilled and prepared, with backdrops and furniture ready. He assured the couple that their portraits would be in color and available in just about an hour. That was new. Sebastian had always remembered the development process taking weeks, if not over a month. Kate inquired about new advancements in America that her friends had written about. Lottie and Otty had been able to take moving photographs, just like paintings could be enchanted to do. It became a long conversation, with the photographer excitedly chattering about the intricate spellwork and materials that were supposedly required and that perhaps in a year or so, moving photos would be available in Europe.

About to leave, they finish up by confirming the number of prints and sizes for each. They step out, but Sebastian stops and says, “Oh, wait, I forgot something,” ducking back into the studio on his own.

“Excuse me… I wanted to make another request if I could. I would also like a small portrait of my girlfriend - pocket size. And… also a portrait of myself and our portrait as a couple made for a locket in this size,” he requests, showing the locket to the photographer, who nods in understanding. “I’ll come back later for the prints. It’s for a surprise.”

“This… is lovely. And such a wonderful surprise,” Kate murmurs, dabbing her cloth napkin over her lips. 

Sebastian admires her across the table, their private dinner illuminated by candlelight and accompanied by soft music from a gramophone. He refills their wine and tucks back into their meal of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, buttery dinner rolls, with a medley of seasoned carrots and green beans. 

Kate sips the Pinot Noir. “Did you know this is my favorite meal?”

He smiles. “You told me when we were hiking in the Highlands.”

Kate gazes at him, raising an eyebrow. “So… What is the occasion? It’s clearly an occasion. I’ve never dined in a private room here, and you’ve arranged my favorite meal.” 

Sebastian replies, “I wanted to end my week off of work perfectly with you.” He pauses, studying her reaction. “It has been… the happiest week of my entire life. Being with you… makes me feel complete. And after all that has happened, all that we have learned, moving in together… Well, a celebration was in order.” 

“It truly has been wonderful,” she agrees. “Thank you for arranging everything. Our trip was a fascinating experience, and… I’m excited to live with you and… experience all that lies ahead. I love you, Sebastian.”

“And I love you,” he echoes, “so deeply, Kate. You’re my sunshine. You’re all that is good in the world, and… I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you as my… future wife.”

Their eyes meet, both of them smiling.

Sebastian glances at his pocketwatch. “I know this might seem a bit silly, but… I am so anxious to see the photographs. Do you mind if I quickly apparate over to the studio after I order dessert and settle the bill? We can look at them here.”

Kate grins even more widely. “By all means, yes. I can’t wait to see them.”

Once they finish up with their dinner, Sebastian heads downstairs to order a blackberry crumble for them to share, which he was told would pair excellently with the Pinot Noir. He pays the bill. Then, he ducks out of the restaurant to head to the studio.

After a refreshing dessert, they finally are ready to look at the portraits. Sebastian scoots his chair right next to Kate, handing the envelope to her. 

She carefully opens the packaging, and the first portrait she pulls out is the portrait of them as a couple. She gasps upon seeing it. They are seated at a bench with the backdrop of a garden. Kate was given a matching parasol as a prop, and the two of them smile, appearing to read a book together with Sebastian leaning in, their foreheads practically touching.

The next portrait is of Kate. The photographer had asked her to pose for a close-up, insisting this was the most current fashionable style - it would make the subject appear glamorous, soft, and romantic. The photo features her from the bust and above. Her hair is flowing and is voluminous. She rests her hand on her cheek. Sebastian whistles.

“A goddess,” he murmurs.

Finally, the portrait of Sebastian is revealed. He is seated on a chair, looking right at the camera with a bit of a smirk on his face - an apt depiction.

“Merlin, what a good-looking man,” Kate murmurs, looking closely at it and then flashing a grin at her boyfriend.

“I suppose we are a rather attractive couple,” he replies with a smirk.

Kate continues looking at the pictures for several minutes, then places them all back inside the envelope.

Sebastian has been waiting for this moment. He reaches over to take Kate’s hand. “I have something for you.”

“You do?” Kate seems surprised.

He pulls out a small box from his pocket and opens it for her. There lies the golden locket. Kate gasps, then examines it closer. 

“It has… a moon! That’s you! And flowers… I suppose that’s… me!” she notes with an excited laugh. “Sebastian… it’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. Just what I would have chosen myself.”

“I’m glad you like it. Here, take it. Open it,” he requests.

She obeys, opening it carefully, and inside are tiny photographs - their portrait as a couple and a portrait of Sebastian. She studies it adoringly, then closes it. Throwing her arms around him, she murmurs “Thank you” in his ear. When she pulls back, she kisses him tenderly and repeats the sentiment: “Thank you.”

Sebastian stands behind her, and she holds her hair up as he fastens the necklace. “You can always keep me close. And I’ll be able to do the same.” He reveals the pocket portrait he had made of her. “It will help me survive being away from you.” He chuckles. “No easy task. I cannot even fathom having to wake up for work tomorrow and leaving you in bed alone.”

Kate reaches out to caress his cheek. “I don’t want you to go back to the Ministry tomorrow. I wish you could have the entire summer off with me.”

“Me, too, sunshine. Me, too,” he whispers wistfully. 

After a few moments, he suggests apparating home, where they immediately make the most of Sebastian’s final evening without responsibilities. Their lovemaking is slow, unhurried, as they thoroughly explore each other’s bodies. 

The only thing Kate wears to bed that night is the locket.

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

The Sixth Doctor

Featuring British Actor, Colin Baker

Back in 2022, I fancied a trip to Birmingham once I found out that Colin Baker (the 6th Doctor in ‘Doctor Who’) was going to attend ‘Collectormania 27 – Film & Comic Con Birmingham’ at the NEC, Birmingham. With my diamond pass, I was able to meet up with Colin, who signed my Season 22 Blu-ray booklet. We had a nice chat about Season 22 and reprising his role as the 6th incarnation of The Doctor in the latest episode, The Power of the Doctor.

He was really friendly with me, asked me about what I was up to, if I was dating, if I was staying at the same hotel as everyone else. As we briefly chatted, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He was a beautiful old man, blue eyes that twinkled, ruff and rugged lines in his face coupled with a smile that made my heart flutter. My eyes were zeroed in on his wide, hairy chest, and I was imagining running my hands through it as I fuck his ass. Feeling myself about to make a tent out of my pants, I said my goodbyes.

"Good day to you." He said, winked and smiled a warm friendly, knowing smile. If I wasn't here at Collectormania 27, I would have made a move for this man.

After hours of fun and entertainment, I headed back to the hotel. Wanting a nightcap, head over to the hotel bar and to my surprise, Colin was there. He bought me a couple drinks. With my bladder now full, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Colin told me he’d join me since he had to go too.

The bathroom was empty, but when I went to the urinal, Colin took the one right next to me. I didn’t mind, but when I’d finished peeing, I realized I hadn’t heard him pee, so I looked over briefly and saw him stroking a thick, 7 inch uncut cock with a big head. Seeing that, got me rock hard quick, a result of staring too long. When finally looked up, he was looking right at me, smiling. It seemed like my heart stopped beating before only to beat a thousand times a second.

Then Colin surprised me again by placing his hotel room card on the edge of the urinal right next to me before heading to the sinks. He quickly rinsed his hands and walked out, leaving the key behind. I grabbed the key, pausing long enough to wash my hands.

By the time I got to Colin’s room, I was afraid he’d think I wasn’t’ interested, but when I entered the room, he was ready and waiting. Colin was in a hotel bathrobe and he’d ordered porn on the television. How lucky could I be. Colin was the epitome of a big horny grandpa and he was primed for action.

It didn’t take long before we both found ourselves naked on the bed, hugging and kissing each other. I held his tits and cupped them using my thumbs to flick his big nipples as I kissed my way to suck them. You talk about being content! Heaven can’t be better, I thought to myself as Colin moaned and stroke my hair while I nursed his nipples.

While sucking on his super tits, I ran my hand down to his cock and started jacking him off. I licked and kissed his belly, working my mouth down to his pubic mound. When I got close, I moved my mouth over his cock and started to licking his tasty treat. Taking the head in my mouth, sucking it, making circles with my tongue before taking his cock deeper in my mouth. The sweet smell of his crotch turned me on and I couldn't stop myself from sucking him.

After a minute or two, I was suck it with long strokes, reaching up to claw at his chest and nipples. Colin was thrusting upwards, fucking my mouth good as I bob my head like crazy on his sweet wet dick. My throat was full of thick sweet Granddaddy cock as I breathed threw my nose to take it all while Colin was grunting like a bull.

“Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes!” He said as rammed his hard cock deeper in my mouth. Then without warning he grabbed me by the hair and forced my head down on it as far as I could take it.

Just then, I felt his load bursting out of his cock and filling my mouth. I swallowed as much as I could while he jerked and hunched in ecstasy. It was fantastic to know I could give him so much pleasure as I closed my eyes and twisted my head from side to side to set him off!

Looking down, Colin beaming from ear to ear before rolled over onto his belly, spread his legs and smiled as he said, "Come and get it."

When he presented me with this view of his beautiful ass. I quickly spread his cheeks wide and began to lick his ass. I started at the rim and gently pushed my tongue inside of him. This drove him wild and he pushed his ass back farther on my probing tongue. He was moaning loudly and I continued fucking his ass with my tongue and mouth.

I could tell he wanted me to fuck him hard and I grabbed my cock and started to touch the rim of his hot wet ass hole. He pushed his love hole on to my cock as I eased the tip of the head of my cock in his hole. I thought I would spew right then and there as I slowly pushed the full length in. It looked so hot to see his salt-n-pepper hair, the fur on his shoulders and back with traces going all the way down to the ass my cock was now firmly buried in. I didn't pull out but started to gyrate my hips to give him the full sensation of being fucked. Colin’s arms were folded under his chin when looked back over his shoulders and said, "Fuck me hard Jack I need it."

I slowly began to pull out until the head was just visible, then slammed it back as deep as I could go. Each time I would do this, I would feel his ass quiver in anticipation of my next thrust. He pushed his butt as hard as he could back down on my shaft. He wanted it all. The sensation of him pushing his hot big butt on to my cock was driving me wild. If I had died the next few seconds, well my life would have been worthwhile to have had the chance to have my cock inside such a sweet, hunky handsome mature man.

"Yes", he moaned as he reached back to pull me against him, making sure I was all of the way in.

I fell on top of him as I pushed my pelvis to his hot ass. His hole opened up wide now as I fucked him more freely now. He moaned loudly and began to push his butt to me meet my pace as he was loving my dick in his ass. Every so often he would squeeze my dick with his ass muscles. I could hold it no longer, my body tensed and I pulled him as tight as I could against me. It was only another three or four strokes before I slammed up against him and held myself there, my dick in him as deep as it could get and shot my load into him.

His hole sucked me in further still as my load bubbled inside him. I had shot more cum than I ever remembered shooting in my whole life. I rubbed his back until I felt my cock soften. I dropped to the bed and he turned over to grab me in his strong arms. He held me close and kissed my like I’d never been kissed before. I lay there in his arm's, exploring his body with kisses. He pulled me to his chest kissing the top of my head caressing me with his arms. He held me ever so tightly. What a sublime comfort. He caressed me like his baby boy. We were soon falling into a deep heavenly slumber.

[samandcolbypost]

▪️My thoughts on the Conjuring Video▪️

I’m going to start on the skeptic side of what I’m thinking first and then go into the rest of what I believe.

First, I love the new owners and their thoughts on how one should keep an open mind because most spirits are just going off you vibes. I also really like Satori and Cody. Okay I’ll finally get into my skeptical side, cuz come on, I feel some of us still are at least a little bit. When they started doing the arm holding thing and started naming off Sam’s grandma, I began to get a little skeptical. Especially when they stated they tend to get through to family members. I know there’s the feeling that “no one would even known that name” or, who that member is, but it’s not that hard to find someone’s family history, especially social media people if you look up their last name like “Sam Golbach” for instance and search for those who’ve died. Also “Libby” was in the obituary title. So if it wasn’t there I would feel a little less a skeptic of what they’re doing. Now for Colby I can’t really say how they could find something 2 generations before, unless they looked on some ancestry site or something 😂 I can’t say for that one. But what I’m trying to say is it isn’t a hard to do a little digging on people and see their past. Everyone had to put their name on the conjuring booking website for them to come, especially overnight. The other thing I wanted to get into was the taps. At first I did have a thought that came across that someone could be around them doing that but then that went out the window when they moved places. Second thought, someone mentioned a box type thing in Cody’s pocket. I’m not sure what it is or if it’s possible for “taps” to be coming through it, and something is hooked up to it for someone to hear and know when to tap ect. I’m just going to leave it at that because I think it’s really hard for that to happen but anyways, this is just my skeptical side.

Now onto the my believable side

If I didn’t watch their uncut video, I would have a harder time believing. That’s so insane though, I wonder if Sam and Colby could try that if anything would happen. The fact all their past relatives came through is a very comforting thought especially knowing someone is looking over you. I did just watch the video but did they ever get much conversation with Abigail? (My minds blanking right now). So far everything has been super positive and I think that is a good way to set things straight for a hopefully peaceful, yet safe time for them to be there. The people who let them stay seemed very lovely. When those 2 started the arm thing I thought it was crazy how S&C could feel the vibrations of the taps happening everywhere and it was coming from all over. It made it even more believable watching the uncut footage of them getting a random location to go to, and still get those 2 names from each location. (I did look those 2 people up before they even posted it in the video lol) I’m really curious how that spiritual connection works. I didn’t really find anything online to see if it’s like a connection with the other side, but I kinda think I’ve heard of that before? Anyways, I know those taps aren’t coming physically (not including an object that could make the noise) from Cody or Satori because as S&C debunked, it’s not just 1 location and it’s not their shoes or noises from their mouth. The looking up the 2 names from each location would be hard to even look up since it was random and the taps were connected with what she was saying. I think it would take a bit to look up a name and then have the taps connect with, so I don’t think it’s possible they knew the names ahead of time. I hope you guys understand where I’m coming from and feel free to post your thoughts too! Overall, I think this was a really good video and actually one that could change those that don’t believe into believing that the afterlife/paranormal exist.

Sorry this was long 😬

[clumsiestgiantess]

Part 11 of the poll story, choices C & D.

“What are you doing up there?” you laugh, “Just don’t fall off.”  Ralyr nods enthusiastically and you continue down the broken trail.  Despite the strangeness of the arrangement at first, you begin to grow used to his presence so close.  He begins to tell you about the first time he came across a sphinxen, when a loud creaking comes from the side of you.  Leaping to the side, you barely avoid being hit by a falling tree that had snapped partially in the being’s wake.  It hits the ground with a tremendous THUD.  Ralyr startles at the sound, and yelps your sudden movement, falling backwards off of you and tumbling into the brush.

“Ralyr!” you yell, frightened that he’d been hurt.  Hastily pushing aside a few ferns, you find him on the ground on his side.  A brief and intense jolt of terror spikes through you at the sight, but he sits upright only half a moment later, coughing slightly.  “O- On second thought, maybe we should try something else.”

Heart still racing, you slide a hand gently underneath his back and pick him up by his torso, quickly sliding him into your cupped palms.  You hold him to your chest a little longer before he moves slightly and you lift him out in front of you again.  Ralyr gives you a small smile — the hints of his fangs poking out from between his lips.  His ears fall slightly and you can feel his breaths against your hands once more.  He’s breathing more calmly than you are, though he was the one who’d fallen.  “It’s alright, I was just a bit winded is all.  I assure you, I’m fine.”

Exhaling a relieved breath, you carry him the rest of the way through the trail until it finally comes to a screeching halt at a large field.  Wind rushes through the leaves creating a lively rattle as the shin-high grass billows in waves across the open space.  If you weren’t on a mission to find a large possibly hurt being, you would’ve stayed to enjoy the moment a bit longer.  Instead, you scout the field for any more clues to where the sphinxen went.  The only thing amiss is a small hill where the grass looks withered and brown.  You walk over to it slowly, careful to check for animals that might be hidden by the uncut grass.  As you near the strange hill, the air changes.  For some unknown reason, you feel frightened — like you should be running or already gone.

The discolored mound suddenly shudders in the ground.  The earth around it splits and rises slightly, then falls back.  You and Ralyr glance at eachother in the silence, then slowly turn back to the quiet hill.  “You don’t think-”  

A massive shaggy paw bursts from the ground.  It’s bear-like, but it has longer claws and it’s larger than any bear could possibly grow.  More of the earth shatters into chunks and begins surging upwards.  You turn and run but trip on an unseen rock beneath the grass.  Ralyr leaps to the ground beside you.  He might’ve called your name, but you’re too distracted to hear it.  Fearfully flipping yourself over, you watch as a creature rises up and shakes itself free from the dirt.

The bottom half of him is animal — the top half human, besides his long ears.  Another one.  Only this being looked more like a centaur and was absolutely massive.  There were other oddities that stood out as well.  Besides a small beard and wild hair that reached his shoulders, the human half of him boasted two large horns, and his ears were far more rounded.  One horn rose up from the center of his forehead like a unicorn’s might, only it curved backwards in a crescent-like shape.  The smaller one jutted out of his nose, flattening its human appearance into something more animal.

Then there was his body.  Its front half looked like a grizzly bear of sorts, with shaggy brown fur and giant claws that poked out of his paws beneath it.  However, the back half of his body looked completely different.  The fur slowly grew sparser down his side, creating a strange mane that gave way to greyish skin.  You only stand at his elbows — the animal ones that make up his legs — not his human arms.  Whatever he is, he looks far more different to Ralyr than you’d expected.

The being yawns, revealing two almost tusk-like teeth in his bottom jaw, then glances down at you with an amused look.

What do you do?

A) Grab Ralyr and run.  Whatever that creature is, you don’t want to mess with it.

B) Tell Ralyr to go talk to him first.  You’ll join in later…

C) You slowly stand up from where you fell, too in awe to say anything.

D) Ask him if he’s a sphinxen; that’s what Ralyr guessed he might be.

[1p2p-heta-suggestives]

2p japan nsfw alphabet please??

Read more is here for now so people don’t read this kind of content without wanting to

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

• He’ll get them a drink and some painkillers but that’s really about it, he’s not good with the whole affection after sex thing. He just wants to take a bath and have a nap with them.

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

• He likes his hands, there’s no particular reason as to why, he just does

• He’s an ass guy, he will actively stare and not even be ashamed if he’s caught doing it

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

• He likes seeing their face covered in his cum, he thinks that it’s adorable

D - Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

• Plays porn games (e.g. huniepop, cloud meadow, etc) on a near basis, he has way too many hours on games like that, he refuses to admit it

E - Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

• Not actually that experienced despite how much of a horny mess he is

F - Favorite position (This goes without saying)

• Doggy style, he thinks it’s the best because it’s easiest to spank them, pull their hair, choke them, etc.

G - Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? Etc.)

• Not goofy during sex, he’s pretty serious during it because he has this very dominant sexual persona

H - Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

• Not that well groomed, he doesn’t really care to shave or anything of that nature. It’s the same colour as his hair.

I - Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

• Not intimate at all, he’ll make sure they’re alright and that they cum but that’s about as “intimate” as he gets during sex

J - Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

• Numerous times a day, he’s in his room most of the time so it’s another way that he passes the time

K - Kink (One or more of their kinks)

• Brat taming

• Edging people

• He’s very sadistic

L - Location (Favorite places to do the do)

• His room, he rarely leaves the place so it’s unsurprising he always prefers to fuck there

M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

• Someone wearing any kind of revealing clothes, he will stare at them and realise he’s hard

N - No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

• Being edged, he’ll edge someone else for hours but he gets pissy when they do it back

O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

• Absolutely prefers receiving, he’s not all that good at giving and he knows that so he tries to get out of doing it

P - Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

• Fast and rough, always, he just cannot finish it it’s all slow and sensual

Q - Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

• He loves them, he’s be perfectly happy with getting a quickie

R - Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc.)

• Adores both of them, experimenting and risks are something that he loves

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

• Maybe 5 rounds with breaks in between but then he’s too tired and needs to rest, he lasts about 8 minutes so very average

T - Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

• He owns a lot, name it and he probably has it. Vibrators, fleshlights, rope, cuffs, blindfolds, whips, riding crops, whatever. It’s a mix for who it’s used on.

U - Unfair (How much they like to tease)

• He absolutely teases all the time, he loves seeing how needy people can get

V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

• Mostly just groaning, he’s not really that loud, he’s very vocal when degrading them though

W - Wild card (A random headcanon for the character)

• Wants a fuck buddy but is too awkward to talk to people about it, so it’s a very far away dream from him

X - X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

• Very average, uncut and around 5 inches, has an apadravya piercing

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

• It’s really high, one of the highest of all 2ps, he is borderline insatiable

Z - Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

• Doesn’t fall asleep afterwards, he’ll rest but he won’t go to sleep unless it’s his usual time to sleep (early hours in the morning)

[mrsbsmooth]

So, um... *blushes* I hear you're doing NSFW headcanons? @longbobmckenzie had some pretty accurate headcanons about me, do you think you can get it right too?

You want them about you?? 😘 tell me if I’m close

NSFW Headcanons: Roberto

Below the cut 🤭

-> S m o o t h. He could talk a royal into bed, but he doesn't. He never has more than one girl on the go at any one time.

-> Vocal. VOCAL. He asks for what he wants, tells her what to do. The groans. Growls. "Yes, yes, like that". Starts in English, but as he gets closer, he switches to Portuguese, muttering curse words she doesn't understand.

-> Extention of the above - phone sex. He's away for long periods but that's not going to stop him from getting his girl off. He's so good at it that he can damn near do it in public, his earphones in, whispering instructions to her as he stays fully composed on his end.

-> Long and quite straight. Uncut.

-> When he's back from a long flight, and he walks in the door, it's on sight. She wants him to keep the uniform on, though. Lose the shirt. Keep the tie. She's wearing the hat.

-> The first time after he walks in is quick and dirty. Bent over the end of the bed, if they even make it that far. The inside of their front door has seen a lot of action. Picks her up with ease, pants around the ankles. Every one of the neighbours knows his name.

-> Cuddle for a few minutes, he missed her. Shower together, maybe dinner, then round two.

-> Goes down just to go down, he's missed her and he wants to take his time. Builds and teases her for ages, might even like to hear about her day while he's going down on her.

-> Loves to touch her thighs while he goes down, running his palm along the outside of her. Just to know she's there.

-> Speaking of, he loves when his girl is soft. He likes when she has a little bit of a tummy, when her thighs are thick, this man loooooves curves, whatever form they come in. As long as he can grab on to her, he loves it.

-> Blowjob he prefers sitting up, like on the couch. Likes to see her, but likes to be comfortable.

-> For no reason whatsoever he's really into 69'ing. Her on top, obviously.

-> Sex is sensual. When he takes her to bed, he can blow her back out if she wants, but he'd prefer to take his time. Touching, kissing, tiny little love bites, he just wants to savour her,

-> Fave position, girl on top. Not because he's lazy, but because he likes to see as much of her body as he can. Plus, he dies over the feeling of her pressing her palms against his chest while she rides him.

-> Power dynamic is wholly equal and fluid. One moment he's got her hands pinned by the wrists, the next she's pulling his hair and telling him exactly what she wants. He goes with whatever she wants, but he takes everything he wants, too.

-> Won't come on her. Prefers to come inside her above everything else.

-> Quick cleanup but fuck the sheets. They're going to sleep straight away and fucking three more times during the night. In the morning, the sheets are barely on the bed, there're clothes and pillows everywhere, and she's asleep on his bare chest, tangled in what's left of the top sheet.

-> He might have to go pretty early, but he never leaves without one last round, morning sex king.

-> That kiss goodbye leaves her wanting round six though. Oof.

How'd I do lol

[audioaujom]

Leo Gets Adopted

Stardew Hub, < prev, next >

Discovering Ginger Island and it’s lore was a huge boost in working on these oneshots long before I started posting them, so I figure it’s time to pay my dues by giving into my own personal fantasies and giving Leo a much more fleshed out adoption and giving him a house and a family and everything he deserves. Sorry I missed last week, it definitely will happen again. I'm low on ideas... ;-; Anyway, him, Vincent, and Jas are CUTE and I can not be swayed on the matter, so enjoy!

Word Count: 2165

--

Standing on the lively beach of Ginger Island, Sam turned a wide grin to a slightly overwhelmed Sebastian beside him. “This place is awesome!”

“Yeah, it’s quite nice.” Sebastian agreed, shielding his eyes from the beaming summer sun. “That farmer really fixed everything up.” 

Sam’s head swiveled around to take everything in, pointing off in a random direction before running that way. “Let’s go exploring!” 

“What? Wait—!” Sebastian sputtered and ran to follow, confused but also a little eager to check things out. 

“Look! Birds!” Sam finally explained, pointing again so Sebastian could spot the brightly colored feathers hidden by tall palm fronds. “C’mon!”

The two ran towards the nearby jungle, following the flapping of wings and flashes of bright colors of the small flock of parrots, only for them to be stopped in their tracks by the appearance of the farmer. They grinned as they saw the two boys, tipping back the wide brim of their straw hat to get a better look at them. “Heading after the birds?” 

“How’d you know?” Sam asked, a little embarrassed at seeming so childish, Sebastian faintly flushing red from beside him.

“It’s the first thing I did after coming here, too.” The farmer shrugged, before pausing and slinging off their backpack to start rooting through it. “Oh, here. You'll need these.” 

They offered the two boys two strange looking nuts, a golden sheen covering the outside of them that almost seemed unnatural. Upon noticing Sam and Sebastian’s hesitance to take them, the farmer grinned wide and shoved their hand further into the boys’ face.

“For the birds.”

“Oh, um, thanks…?” Sebastian stumbled out awkwardly as he took one and Sam took the other, going to say something else before the farmer was already running off—bizarre looking skeleton in hand—and disappearing up the stairs to the upper island. “Aaand they’re gone.”

“That farmer’s a little strange.” Sam commented as they disappeared, sandy footsteps fading to silence.

Sebastian shrugged, turning his attention back to the birds after putting the golden walnut in one of his pockets. “So's the rest of this town.” 

“Fair enough.” 

The two followed the birds through thick underbrush, eventually finding themselves in a small clearing with a small hut and another strange flight of stairs. Wordlessly deciding to investigate up the stairs, they only stopped as one of the parrots from a nearby tree flew down in front of them to block their path, only moving when they hesitantly handed over the nuts they’d gotten from the farmer.

The parrot happily accepted the offerings, turning and flying up the steps and disappearing into a treehouse that had been constructed at the top, Sam and Sebastian hurrying to follow.

The inside of the structure was sparse, built of unfinished and slightly rotten wood with a small pad of palm fronds covering one corner. The bird landed on a perch in the corner, letting out a loud squawk that shook the glassless windows on the front of the small house. Sam and Sebastian shared another look, before they turned to stare as a small boy descended a ladder against the far wall. Clothed in colored leaves and oversized fabric scraps, the boy couldn’t have been older than 10, with shaggy, uncut dark hair that covered bright eyes and a hesitant expression.

“Hey there, little buddy!” Sam greeted immediately, dropping to a crouch and smiling widely. “Are you alright? What are you doing all alone out here?” 

“You are… bird friend too?” The boy asked quietly, Sebastian copying Sam’s hopefully non-threatening posture. “Like farmer?”

“Yes, we are.” Sam nodded, sighing in relief as the parrot flew over to him and landed on the floor in front of him. “See?”

“Okay.” The boy smiled a little, the parrot flying back up to its post by the ladder. “I live here. This is my nest.”

“Your… nest?” Sebastian asked slowly, glancing at Sam beside him.

“Yes. We birds nest.” 

“Alright, well, I’m Sam, and this is my friend Sebastian.” Sam introduced, shifting to sit on the floor and carefully scoot a little closer to the boy. “What’s your name?” “Leo.” 

“That’s an awesome name for an awesome bird.” Sam’s quiet cheer had Leo grinning widely, him hugging himself out of an excited embarrassment. “Thanks for letting us come into your nest.”

Sebastian slowly stood up as Sam did the same, but still bent his head low as he asked, “Would you mind if we came back again some other time?” 

“No.” Leo shook his head, reaching out to pet the parrot beside him. “Bird friends always welcome.”

Taking that as their cue, Sam and Sebastian excused themselves from the treehouse and headed back for the main resort on the beach with heavy steps.

“So.” Sebastian started as they exited the thickest part of the jungle, greenery giving way to sand. “He’s coming home with us, right?” 

“As soon as I can get him to trust me, yes.” Sam agreed immediately. “I need to talk to mom.”

“Yeah. I’ll do the same, and see if she can talk to Marnie about Shane and Jas.” 

Sam grinned, his worry for the young boy easing slightly from the promise. “Good. I’ll see how Penny feels about another student, too.” 

“It’s a plan, then.” Sebastian stuck a hand out to Sam, who rolled his eyes before taking it and shaking it exaggeratedly.

“Good luck to us both.” 

Convincing Jodi to come see Leo wasn’t hard at all.

The parrots let her through as long as she was with Sam and Sebastian, so they made a whole family trip out of their mission and brought Vincent along—and definitely not because Sam thought the two boys would be really good friends.

Definitely not.

Sam and Sebastian had already come by the treehouse several more times and cleared Jodi’s visit, so Sam went inside with his mom while Sebastian and Vincent waited just outside.

“Well, aren't you just the cutest little thing!” Jodi exclaimed as Leo came down to greet Sam, eyes wary. “I'm Jodi, this silly guy’s mom.”

Jodi reached out and ruffled Sam’s hair, her son whining, “Mom!” as he tried to fix it.

“Sam here tells me your name is Leo.” Jodi smiled, watching as Leo seemed to relax a little.

He nodded very slightly, hiding behind his long bangs. “It is.”

“Well then, it's nice to meet you.” Jodi patted Sam on the shoulder, both of them sitting down on the floor. “Sam really likes you. He talks about you all the time.”

“Really?” Leo asked, his eyes flashing hopefully out from under his hair.

Jodi nodded as Sam brushed her hand off, playfully glaring at her. “Yeah! He’s got a younger brother your age.” 

At that, Leo seemed to really light up, eyes gleaming with nervous excitement. “Really?!” 

“Would you like to meet him?” 

In an instant his excitement seemed to diminish, him looking away and thinking for a few long moments before tentatively admitting, “...yes.” 

“Let me go grab him.” Jodi beamed, getting to her feet and poking her head outside to tell Sebastian and Vincent that they could come in. 

The three adults sat on the floor near the door and let Vincent run in and over to Leo, sticking his hand out with a wide, toothy grin. “Hi there! I'm Vincent.” 

“I'm Leo.” Leo shyly greeted back, reaching out to take his hand in a mix of interest and confusion.

“Sam says you're a parrot.” Vincent didn’t mind the way Leo didn’t understand the handshake, quickly shaking his hand up and down until the other boy reciprocated.

“Yeah, I am.” Leo said proudly as they let go of each other, Vincent jumping up and down in excitement. 

“That’s awesome!! I wish I was a parrot, I think it would be really cool to fly.” Vincent giggled, before excitedly asking, “Can you fly?!”

“Of course I can!” Leo put his hands on his hips and stuck his nose up in the air, before leading Vincent over to the ladder that led up to the second floor of the treehouse. “Let me show you.”

Several hours later, when both boys had tuckered out—Vincent on Sam’s back and Leo being watched over by the parrots—the group met with Robin, who was watching the sunset on the beach as she waited, none of the three needing to say anything as she watched them with amusement.

“Just tell me where you want the extra room, and it's yours.” She said, looking at the sleeping Vincent fondly. Jodi and Sam glanced at each other with matching grins as Sebastian found a nearby chair and pulled it up beside his mom, the moment fading out into a hopeful silence.

“You should come live with me.” Vincent blurted randomly while playing with Leo a few days later, startling the other boy—who was building a small sandcastle by the volcano’s shore.

“What?”

“Mrs. Robin is building us a new room for you, and once school starts I won't be able to come here as often.” Vincent frowned, patting the sides on his own sandcastle half-heartedly. “And I'm sure Mr. Willy would bring you back here whenever you'd like!”

“I… don't know.” Staring at his sand-covered hands, Leo was silent for a while in thought. “Been a long time since I… lived with anyone but birds.”

“My mom loves you, Sam loves you, I love hanging out with you… the whole Valley wants to see you safe and happy.” Vincent tried, leaning over towards Leo, who for the first time since they'd met didn't shrink away. “So I think it would be best for you to move.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Mx. Farmer brought us all out here and taught us to make friends with the birds, just for you.” Vincent’s admission was met with a quiet sputter of surprise from the other boy, who hid his face behind his rather lumpy creation. After a stretch of no sound other than the crashing waves, Vincent quietly continued, “And I’ve always wanted another brother.”

Leo peeked up and over the top of his sandcastle at Vincent’s bashful face, slowly crawling over to plop himself down right next to Vincent with a small smile. “I… think I would like that, too.”

“Okay! I'll tell mom when she comes to pick me up.” Vincent grinned wide, the embarrassed flush on his face quickly dying out. “You won't regret this, Leo!”

The town was overwhelming for Leo, but not in a bad way.

Everyone came out to greet him after Jodi and Sam picked him up, including the wizard—even though he only really watched the proceedings from afar with Marlon and Gil. Emily took some measurements to make him new clothes while Haley demanded that someone—anyone—give him a bath. Lewis gave a big speech about welcoming him to their home, Linus offered to help Leo find the best foraging spots, and Harvey worked with Maru to give him a quick check-up so they could advise Jodi on helping him adjust. Jas seemed wary, and it didn't help that Leo couldn't make eye contact without furiously turning red while Vincent teased him from behind. Marnie and Shane didn't say much, but said he was always welcome to come check out the animals, and Penny was ecstatic to have another kid to teach. Willy made sure he knew he’d always have a ride back to Ginger Island, Elliot offered to have lodgings open in his cabin if Leo needed a change of scenery that felt more like home, and Leah suggested she take him around the woods to explore. Abigail, Pierre, and Caroline promised he’d always have something to eat, and Gus asked to learn some of his more exotic recipes to make him feel more comfortable in the Saloon. Pam, Clint, Gunther, and Demetrius made quick work of their hellos, while George and Evelyn spent a little too much time fawning in Alex’s opinion—even though he was just as eager to offer to help him learn to throw a football around. It was only made better by a final surprise from Robin—a treehouse in the backyard that both he and stray parrots could spend their time in.

It was much later that night after a long potluck organized by the farmer, Gus, and Pierre that Leo found himself properly indoors, in a small room next to Vincent’s in clothes that fit and a bed that was warm, feeling a lot of new things. He was unsure since everything was so new, but it wasn’t a bad new. It was good. It was warm. It was safe.

Jodi pushed his door open to check on him just as he’d finally fallen asleep from his big day, while Sam and Sebastian chatted animatedly in the other room and Vincent was asleep in his own bed, smiling to herself. She wasn’t always happy with her life in the Valley, but at least she’d raised her boys right. 

Together they’d made the right decision, and now Leo had a home.

[gravitywonagain]

Summer air holds its heat long after the sun has set, even this high up the mountain. The granite, too, is warm against the backs of Lan Wangji's thighs as he dangles bare feet and crossed ankles off the cliff's edge and over the wide river valley. He presses his palms to the smooth edge of stone, fingers curling down around the uneven surfaces. 

The sky is clear, star-freckled, and moonless. The valley below is lit with an unnatural glow. Lan Wangji still is not used to it, though he has had decades to adjust. 

A warm breeze gently lifts the ends of his hair and billows in the drape of his pant legs. He is aware, vaguely, that the loose fabric of his linen shirt and trousers is dated. His leather shoes were made at the turn of the previous century. He has thus far refused the skin-hugging fashions favored by modern youth culture, though sometimes he misses wrapping himself tight in six layers of silk. The way each fold impressed the importance of his station into his skin. The way the weight of the fabric held flesh to bone when it felt like everything else was drifting away. 

His hair is still uncut, as long as it was when he stopped aging for good. In public, he keeps it braided and bound, tucked away so as to avoid attention. But here, high and hidden in his own mountaintop sanctuary, he leaves it free and flowing down his back. The tails of his forehead ribbon coil around a small section to keep it out of his eyes, but he hasn't twisted into elaborate styles or guans as he used to for centuries. Not since Wei Ying... and the Sizhui... 

Footsteps sound on the path behind him. Rubber soles. Surprisingly quiet and precise, given the man who approaches. 

The footsteps pause, replaced by the susurrus of heels sliding out of shoes, then socks. The shoes are stacked neatly next to Lan Wangji’s. Another step, two, three; then Lan Wangji’s dangling feet are joined by another paler pair, faint black lines tracing the watershed branches of his spiritual veins. 

Warmth leeches from the air between them. Lan Wangji’s arm prickles with gooseflesh from the proximity, even now, even after centuries. But it is not uncomfortable, and Wen Qionglin is not bothered by the physiological reaction. 

The forest around them sings its nocturnal melodies. It does not mind that the men listening are old enough to remember its tallest trees as saplings. It has grown around them like it has grown around the cliff side and the mountain streams, shaping one another, finding balance -- harmony in coexistence. 

They sit together in silence, comfortable in the way of earth and stone. Years spent together and apart. They know each other better than they have ever known anyone else. 

The knowledge hurts, but still it is true. 

"I think he would have liked electricity," says Wen Qionglin after a long while, staring down at the strange glow. There is no need to specify who he is speaking of. Conversations like this are common between them. 

Lan Wangji hums, unconvinced. "Lightning trapped in a thin metal coil?"

"He never could hold a grudge very long." 

Death has stiffened Wen Qionglin's face so that he does not smile with his mouth or cheeks, but Lan Wangji can feel a softening, a fondness. He can hear it in Wen Qionglin's breath and heartbeat, could see it in black eyes if he turned to look. 

"Mn," he agrees. "True. We held them for him." 

They've looked for him, searched for signs of his return, ever hoping to find him smiling in a new life. Hoping to find any of them, truly. Siblings, children, but always always Wei Ying. 

There was a time, so long ago that it seems a matter of moments rather than years, during which Lan Wangji was jealous of Wen Qionglin -- of the love and bond he and Wei Ying shared, unique yet everlasting in a way that Lan Wangji feared would render himself superfluous in Wei Ying's life. Now he wonders why it ever bothered him that Wei Ying had even one more person to love him. 

Wen Qionglin's fingertips are cold as snow where they brush against the back of Lan Wangji's hand. Lan Wangji turns his wrist and presses their palms together, intertwines their fingers. He rises as Wen Qionglin bids him and follows him up the short steps into the small house they share when they need to get away from the world for a while. Neither the deadman nor the immortal require sleep or sustenance, but it is nice to share a pot of tea with a friend, a confidant, a partner. 

There aren't really words for who they are to each other. But there don't need to be. 

Lan Wangji kneels at the table and prepares the tea while Wen Qionglin settles his stiff limbs as best he can. He doesn't drink, but he enjoys the smell, and he enjoys the warmth of the steam on his frigid skin. 

"I'm planning a trip to the Americas next," says Wen Qionglin. "Will you join me this time?" 

It has been a long while since they traveled together, searched together. Maybe it is okay to indulge this comfort for a while. 

"Mn," says Lan Wangji. He sips his tea. "Perhaps we will find him leading a union riot."

Wen Qionglin huffs a laugh through his nose. "Then we'd better get to him before his government does."

It's an old joke, but one that rings with painful truth. There's no way to know how many times they've missed him, or if he's ever been reborn at all. Inquiry has never worked and the ghastly bond between Wei Ying and Wen Qionglin has never rekindled. But Inquiry didn't work the first time, either, and Meng Po's soup may wash away more than memory. It is impossible to say. All they can do is continue to hope. 

And search. 

Tonight they will plan. In the morning they will leave. 

Perhaps, someday soon, they will both hear the sound of laughter too long faded from their memories. 

Until then, they have each other. 

Lan Wangji pours himself a second cup of tea and allows a soft smile to curl his lips for his everlasting companion across the table.

[vole-mon-amour]

3x12, Jamie edition, part 1.

All his rings. All his expressions. Those puppy eyes. I love him, your honor. He's the best boy.

(In Louis Tomlinson's voice) Who wouldn't love him?

Jamie adding extra money for the party is so :')

Tbh, I'm still surprised every single one of them carries cash. As a person who is VERY far away from being a billionaire, I never ever have any kind of cash on me. It's all plastic or NFC for me. On the other hand, maybe it's easier when you have so much money, have some "pocket" money.

This kid can't sit and stand straight, but he also can't stay on the ground for long. High five like an average person? Impossible. I love him.

A girl? Roy, I am begging you, go kiss Jamie already and be done with it already. Honestly, sometimes he has a mentality of a five year old.

I love Jamie's hair SO much this season. It's long & free & beautiful.

Baby boy. Baby. Can we turn it into a meme?

Jamie can't stand still. He can't. He's so relatable.

I'll leave it uncut bc I love everything about this but. Jamie is LITERALLY vibrating with his entire body from excitement. This boy is such a wonder & Phil deserves his Emmy.

JAMIE. This kid is so wild <3

This is such a huge nod to 1x01. It's how Keeley enters the changing room when we're first introduced to her character. It's an obvious one, but this still makes me sad. I don't want this show to end.

P.S.: Jamie watching Keeley. In 1x01 she literally entered to picked Jamie from the training and they were dating then. I'm watching very closely.

I see you, Jamie. The smile, the nod, the "hey, Keeley." I see you.

You know what's worse aside from Jamie wanting Keeley there with him bc he loves her? He probably fucking means it. He's a nervous puppy (understandably, but still. He's pure like that.)

My kids. <3 The way Jamie hugs people is so cute. It's so... wholesome. He holds people with all of him & he MEANS it.

The way Keeley looks at him when Jamie is confused. She still loves him. Attracted to him, too, but right now I mostly see exes that are used to being more or less friends/friendly at a distance.

But the way they include Roy. It's so ot3 coded. Love triangle, too, but I choose to see RJK.

Keeley is GRATEFUL for Jamie giving her this opportunity to see Brazil. You guys. Yeah, sometimes it does read like a love triangle. Who will she choose, but at the same time I'd love the boys ending up together & her loving that for them. Joining them or not is another topic.

[catastrophic-crystal]

Thorfinn: is his outfit historically accurate?

Your resident Old Norse nerd is here to dissect Thorfinn’s (CBS Ghosts) outfit. Is it historically accurate?

What we know about him is this: he is a viking from Norway; he died around 1007 (7 years after the Battle of Svolder); ...and that’s about it really.

I’ll be using viking and Old Norse interchangeably throughout this post just to make the language a little less repetitive, although I should note that not everyone in Old Norse society were vikings.

Everything is under the keep reading line, because there’s... a lot of words. Probably too many.

So what is he wearing?

This!

So what did vikings wear? Not this.

For a start, we have no evidence that vikings wore arm guards/vambraces that looked like this--- instead, they may have worn splint armour.

They also did not wear their hair like that. The Vikings TV show was wrong! Shocker! The “Ragnar haircut” is an entirely modern-day hairstyle that people like to associate with vikings. As far as we know, vikings did not have elaborate hairstyles. Instead, they either had their hair long, or short. They may have tied their hair up to keep it out of the way in their daily lives, or worn caps or cloaks, but we have no evidence of this type of haircut. They also likely would not have worn little braids in their hair or beards like Thorfinn does. The beard is on point except for that though.

Vikings also did not tend to wear plain uncut and untreated animal fur like this. As I said, they would have worn capes or cloaks, and oftentimes those were lined with animal fur! But the animal fur would not have been worn alone. However, I am willing to forgive this, since he was left to fend for himself alone in the wilderness, he might have skinned an animal to get it, who knows?

I’m not sure what outer garment Thorfinn is wearing here. Something leather possibly? In any case, they would not have worn this either, not even as armour (they mostly wore chainmail armour or splint armour), and they certainly would not have worn those weird strap thingies? They wore tunics, usually made of wool, and those tunics would have been a lot less skin-tight than Thorfinn’s outer garment. The under garment seems faily accurate though?

The belt and stuff hanging from it seem fairly believable, so I’ll leave them alone for now. The only thing I would say is that Old Norse tunics were very long, so you would expect to see it going down near to his knees, but we don’t see it go further than his belt at all.

The trousers, while are at least loose, are certainly not loose enough. Not to mention there’s no leg wraps--- all vikings would have worn tight leg wraps going up to just below their knees, which would have made the poofiness of their trousers stand out even more!

And lastly... the shoes. Oh god the shoes. Vikings wore turnshoes and that was it, really. They did not wear boots, and if they did, they would not have been that long. The only evidence of boots in Old Norse society that I’m aware of is child-sized. Sorry lads, I know boots are cool.

As for colours, everything here is so drab. And I know, it’s everywhere, this idea that vikings wore natural or dark colours, but it’s so boring to see! Old Norse society was so colourful (depending on class of course)! All of his clothes (bar the shoes and belt I believe) would have been dyed depending on whether he had the money to do such a thing, and I’m of two minds about that--- he was a viking, so naturally of a higher standing than most, but clearly he wasn’t respected by his peers, so maybe he was an odd one out.

Again, depending on his status, he may have worn ringlets, bracelets, and armlets, usually made out of silver. But I’m less concerned about those. I do, however, wish he wore gloves.

Well that’s all from me for now! Hope you enjoyed and sorry for the longass post, I just really love Old Norse society and I Had To Do This. If I missed anything or got anything wrong, feel free to correct me! Just be nice about it :’)

[princesssarisa]

Sleeping Beauty Spring: "The Sleeping Beauty" (1889 ballet by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky)

Of the three ballets composed by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, The Nutcracker might be the most famous, and Swan Lake might be the most original, but The Sleeping Beauty is often considered the crown jewel of them all. A mainstay of ballet companies throughout the world, it serves as a grand showcase for classical choreography, for luxuriant sets and costumes, and of course for sweet, sumptuously romantic music. Its popularity has influenced retellings of the fairy tale far beyond the world of dance: for example, this ballet marks the first use of the name "Aurora" for the enchanted princess, but it would be far from the last version to give her that name. And excerpts from Tchaikovsky's score, particularly the famous Garland Waltz performed near the beginning of Act I, have become a musical mainstay in other Sleeping Beauty adaptations.

The ballet's scenario is mostly faithful to the familiar story, but with a few embellishments to provide showcases for dance, and only a few varying details between different productions. It's officially based on Charles Perrault's version of the tale, but it follows the Brothers Grimm version in cutting Perrault's second half, and in letting the King and Queen join their daughter in sleep and survive to the end. A prologue depicts the christening of the newborn Princess Aurora, attended by six good fairies led by the Lilac Fairy, who softens the evil fairy Carabosse's curse from death to sleep. After this, Act I consists of Aurora's sixteenth (or twentieth) birthday celebration, during which she dances the famous and difficult Rose Adagio with four suitors. The festivities are cut cruelly short, however, when Carabosse arrives in disguise as an old peasant woman and gives Aurora a drop spindle as a "gift" (or hides it in a bouquet of roses), causing her to prick her finger and collapse before the horrified eyes of the whole court. But the Lilac Fairy reappears to console the King and Queen and to put everyone to sleep along with Aurora.

Act II begins a hundred years later, when Prince Désiré (or Prince Florimund) is shown a dancing vision of Aurora by the Lilac Fairy, who then leads him to the castle and thwarts a last feeble attempt by Carabosse to stop him from kissing the princess. Finally, much like The Nutcracker's final act in the Land of Sweets, Act III leaves the plot behind and consists only of a royal wedding divertissement. The guests include an array of characters from other French fairy tales, who each dance in turn: Puss in Boots and the White Cat, Princess Florine and the Bluebird, Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf, Cinderella and her Prince, and Hop o'My Thumb, his six brothers, and the Ogre. (In performance, the Cinderella and Hop o'My Thumb dances are often cut.)

The demanding role of Princess Aurora is considered one of the ultimate showcases for a ballerina's art. But she's not the ballet's only plum role, as Prince Désiré/Florimund, the Lilac Fairy, Princess Florine, the Bluebird, and other roles also shine. Meanwhile, in some productions, Carabosse is a grotesque character role danced by a man, while in others she's a more glamorous figure danced by a woman, but either way, she's a flamboyant, scene-stealing villainess. Besides dance, most productions are also vehicles for glittering, flower-decked scenery and rich, colorful costumes, with an atmosphere of luxury that suits the world of fairy tale royalty. Most productions set the prologue and Act I in the 17th century Louis XIV era, and Acts II and III in the 18th century.

To some lovers of Perrault and the Grimms, this ballet might be too pretty and twee, without delving into the story's potential emotional depth or darker side. Some might also find it too long: at nearly three hours when performed uncut, it's the longest of Tchaikovsky's ballets. But no one can deny its appeal to lovers of classical dance, or the elegant, atmospheric beauty of Tchaikovsky's score.

Both as an adaptation of the classic fairy tale and as a mainstay of the standard ballet repertoire, Tchaikovsky's The Sleeping Beauty most definitely looms large. Every subsequent retelling of the story arguably stands in its glittering shadow.

@ariel-seagull-wings, @thealmightyemprex, @faintingheroine, @reds-revenge, @thatscarletflycatcher, @comma-after-dearest, @the-blue-fairie, @paexgo-rosa, @autistic-prince-cinderella

[i-will-cry-you-a-river]

“It hurts.” “At least you still feel it.” for C-137cest?💙

(I started to write this yesterday, before our date. Sorry for the angst 😬 But have fun reading it if you have time 💕 love you, thank you for the prompt ❤️)

The adventure was supposed to be an easy one. They had the blueprint, they knew where the gem was located, the guards, even the traps! Yet, they didn't expect one thing: the bounty on Rick's head. The assassins of the dwarf planet knew Rick would try to steal the gem he needed for one of his experiments, that's why it seemed so easy from the get-go.

It was supposed to be a short adventure, a leisure one just for the funsies, just in and out. They were too smug. Way too smug, and Morty paid the price.

It took them four days to escape, to make Ship work again, to get the fuck out of the traps the hunters laid for them, and to avoid the literal manhunt the aliens organized to catch them.

They were supposed to be above things like this. Nobody was supposed to be able to catch them. They were Rick Fucking Sanchez and his sidekick!

But this hunt was something else… something straight out of nightmares.

And Morty would know. He was well-versed in nightmares.

Escaping from them didn't make living easier. Running away, killing half of them didn't mean Morty was out of their grasp. He just had to fight against unkillable beings, the phantoms of his own mind, instead of mortal ones.

He closed off himself. He didn't want to go out, not to school, not to the groceries, and definitely not to adventures. Bed. His bed was safe. He did not want to leave - and nobody could make him. (Or nobody wanted him, his mind whispered.)

He didn’t know how long he stayed inside - in his bed, in his mind - almost forgot how human connection felt. Beth tried in the beginning, calling him down to eat, to have family nights. Jerry fumbled upon his "comforting words", ending with comparing Morty to Morty Jr. As in locking up a kid could fuck them up.

Morty didn't even have the energy to show Jerry in what other ways he was similar to his son.

Summer was the most relentless, yet most gentle. She still talked to him through the door. She still knocked on it every time she left for school, showing him she cared. She was the only one who could make Morty feel something other than the paralyzing emptiness that ruled over Morty.

Rick didn't even show up.

It became the new norm. He would stay in bed, staring out of his head, not even using his laptop. The days went by, and the only person he wanted to see was avoiding him, doing who knew what. His family members visited him less and less. He knew he was a burden, but he was just so tired, so scared to sleep and stay awake.

Only Summer stayed. Only his not-sister, who was more of a sister to him than his own ever had been. But even she wasn't enough.

He just wanted Rick.

Summer tried. But then she, too, withdrew. It wasn't her fault, it was just… touch starvation, wasn't it? He'd seen it on the TV before. Once, she was handing Morty a plate full of his favorite foods, and her fingers slightly brushed Morty's.

It was like lightning struck Morty, he felt a deep shudder running through his body. He pulled back his hand so quickly, his instincts were telling him to run to hide, that no contact could ever be good. The plate shattered on the floor, but he barely registered it as he hid behind his blanket, face hidden behind his knees, hands over his ringing ears. Teeth sunken into his lower lip, uncut nails scratching onto the sensitive skin above his ears.

It took far too long to come down on the anxiety attack. The floor was scrubbed spotless, and Summer was nowhere to be seen.

He wanted to touch her again. And again. And maybe hug her.

But she didn't show up either. Just like Rick. Just like their parents.

He imagined getting up and going to her bed. He imagined his fingertips meeting with her cheek, to feel she was alive, that he was alive. But he wouldn't do that. He was already a burden enough. He was touch starved - not a monster.

Sleep was becoming more and more difficult at night. Nobody to soothe him, nobody to tell him he was safe. Nobody to hug him. He spent hours and hours tossing and turning, arms crossed over his chesty blankets pulled tightly around his body in a poor imitation of a hug.

He wanted body heat. He wanted strong arms wrapped around him. He wanted the smell of alcohol, burning fire, and stomach acid.

He wanted to feel safe.

Or at least to feel anything besides the dreadful hopelessness. He couldn't even feel like he was pathetic, a weakling, even if he knew he was. His brain told him everything he needed to know - but the feelings weren't there. He kind of missed them.

They would have meant he was still alive.

When he did sleep, when he wasn't trapped in nightmares, he dreamt of his family. A nice, better, caring version of his family. Of night huddled together on the couch, watching intergalactic cable TV, of odd compliments from his father, gentle smiles from his mother. He dreamt of Summer clinging to his arms like when they were little kids when she was his big sister who wanted to protect her loser baby brother. He, on Rick's shoulder, tired and napping, his hands around Rick's neck, legs crossed over his slim waist.

He dreamt of warm touches, soft and grounding, full of warmth.

He woke up empty and shivering, his bed icy cold and empty, as cold and empty as he was inside.

No Rick in sight.

The first time he saw the familiar green glow of the portal outside of his window after so long, he nearly cried. He wasn't sure if Rick was leaving, or coming back, but-

The muffled voice of his missing grandfather from downstairs felt like a piercing needle pricking through his bubble of emptiness.

"Y-y-urp-ou little shit." There was no knocking, no sign of intrusion before Rick almost broke down his door, but Morty didn't mind it.

Rick was there.

"H-h-hey, Rick," he whispered, his voice almost non-existent as he couldn't remember the last time he used it for anything else than crying.

"Mo-ourgh-ty, what the fuck do you think are y-you doing?!" Growled his grandfather. He should have been afraid, but his heart was racing in anticipation. Maybe in a mix of panic, but there was also excitement, and then there was-

He could feel his muscles tensing up, he could barely swallow through the lump in his throat.

He could feel that vast bubble of emptiness, artificial nothing burst out; the exhaustion, the physical, mental, and emotional pain he's been going through catching up with him. Midway through getting up, he sagged onto the ground, kneeling, shaking like a dry leaf in the wind stubbornly clinging to the last remains of connection to the tree branch.

"Morty?" Rick's question was coming from above the water. Morty didn't even notice when he got so close to Morty, but when he did, he flinched back.

Afraid of touch.

Afraid of losing his mind completely.

But Rick didn't leave. He stayed. He did more than just stay.

Arms wrapped around him, pulling him close, and that was the last drop in the glass.

He crumbled.

He threw his arms around Rick's neck, pressing his face into the crook of his grandpa's neck, wincing at every ugly sob that left his throat.

"I'm sorry," he rasped. "I'm sorry," he repeated. He wasn't sure what he was sorry for - maybe because he really was a weakly pathetic shit -, but he repeated and repeated, like a mantra, while sobbing, and rocking in Rick's arms.

He could feel Rick freeze up, and it made him want to tear himself out of his arms, afraid he was going to be berated, but Rick wasn't about to let him go.

No. He just held on, his hand cradling the back of his head in a gentle manner.

"I-i-it h-hurt-t-ts-s-s-o-o much," Morty sobbed, fighting for breath. It was as if a dam broke, all those unsaid, unfelt, locked-up emotions tore from his soul, desperate to be expressed, to be felt.

"Let it out, Morty," his grandpa shushed, so comforting, so safe, so genuine for once. Morty's chest ached, as his asshole of a grandfather just held on, letting him sob, even when he was pathetic, even when he soaked his lab coat with his tears, snot, and drool.

"I-I don't know wh-what's w-w-wrong with me," he stuttered, slurping back the snot from his running nose. He felt so tired. He felt so hurt.

He felt.

He could feel himself trembling, shivering so violently, but Rick's arms kept him together. He held him, not once trying to run from the expression of care. Even if he was worried that Rick would leave him, alone, with his memories of those four days and the feeling of abandonment when they got home, the old man stayed.

"Ssssh, let it out," Rick patted his head. "At least you still feel it, you are still living, you are still fighting," he murmured.

And wasn't that a punch in the stomach?

If he wasn't already on the floor, his legs would have given up. He kept clinging to Rick, he felt like he was drowning, if he let go, he'd lose himself forever - but neither of them let the other go.

"It hurts," he sobbed again.

It hurt. But it wasn't like before. Not the sharp, unbearable pain. It was… an ache. A blunt ache. It wasn't hurting him less, but… it felt a bit more manageable. A bit more normal.

"I really fucked this one up, d-didn't I, Mo-ourgh-ty?" Rick muttered, almost whispering as if he was talking to himself. But Morty could hear it. And he felt relieved by it.

"W-we both did," he mumbled into Rick's neck, his lips rubbing over stubbled skin. "B-but we-we are here. T-together. R-Rick and M-Morty fo-or a hundred years."

"Yeah," Rick gulped. "Rick and Morty for a hundred years," he said quietly, a hand rubbing circles on Morty's back. Morty could feel Rick relax under him, his shoulders tensing up then loosening again, then repeat.

Rick could have left him. He could have found a less traumatized sidekick, another Morty, but he returned to him. He hugged him.

He cared for him.

"I'm… I'm here for you," Rick admitted, his voice thick with emotions.

"I-I need you," Morty sighed, burying himself as close to his grandpa as he could. The old man tensed, and Morty was prepared to leave his confession unanswered, but…

"I know, M-Morty. I need you too."

[ameriebanefort]

The Babe of the River

(TW: depiction of dementia. amerie learns of the existence of a sibling through a retelling of her favorite bedtime story, that turns out to be a manufactured version of the truth)

"have i ever told you the tale of the knight and the lady of the river?"

had it been any other day, or year better yet, the question might have conjured a smile to the solemn ladies face. an answer of "only a million times." would be followed by jestful laughter and she'd beg to hear anything else. amerie couldnt treat such questions with the flippancy she once did, though. the maesters say it will only worsen, the way her memories ebb and flow to darkest depths of her mind and all the woman could do to soothe her is exactly what she's doing now. curve of a silver comb is grasped in her left hand, gently working through the soft tresses that remained uncut for the better part of 20 years.

"of course, mama. it's your favorite." reflection in the mirror paints the portrait of disappointment and confusion. its difficult to watch her get so wrapped up in recollections that her eyes begin to shift rapidly, as if going through every moment she can remember to find the missing piece. quicky, she places her free hand on the womans shoulder, like an anchor keeping her from drifting too far away and gives it a reassuring squeeze. they've had a better day than most and she wont see it spoiled. "its my favorite too, and i'd love to hear it again."

remembrances of when she was a girl sat behind her mother, little fingers doing their best to plait the womans hair in the western fashion of her fathers family while absorbing every story uttered by a once vivacious voice. only now it was weak, weary and one note short of losing breath. amerie had suffered a broken heart long before the illness set in, but watching her mother wither away before her eyes with no cure in sight, shattered her in ways she never thought possible.

so she listens, lips silently moving along with each dramatized sentence of a knight and lady, whose love was destined for disaster from the moment they laid eyes on each other. the warring families who would rather kill one another than let the lovers be together. the beautiful baby boy that would be the catalyst of peace and love between them. it seems to be the one of few webs she can weave without missing a beat and if telling it is what it takes to coax her away from another day of staring blankly at the shoreline, then the devoted daughter ask to hear it as many times as she would indulge her.

lines began to stray from the usual script, causing once fluid movements to cease entirely. "what a beautiful babe he was, edie. favored his father over me if you could believe it. grandmother would be turning in her grave to know a blackwoods genes defeated that of a bracken." said with such ease that it leaves amerie taken aback. its evident from ameries experience that shes slipping back to a time when sybella and her beloved sister would chat and gossip the way amerie and her own sisters do. only this story is one shes never heard before. she'd remember it amongst the hilarious opinions and retellings of romance with her late father that she has to cut short when she hears them bubbling to the surface. is it the illness? it must be, for amerie was the first child to be birthed by the woman. it was recorded.

"what're you on about, syb?" best impression of her aunts cadence resonates from between pursed lips. some days, the refusal of who amerie is strikes harder and pretending brings her a sense of calm. "you haven't a babe."

one could hear a pin drop in the dead silence that took over the room. the lady watches as her mother leans towards the direction of the door, listening closely before grabbing her hand. "i miss him terribly... and you are all i have to confide in, edina, please do not deny him when its just us and the ghosts." theres little to deny about the sincerity that dominates her tone. if it weren't based in truth, would the tears welling in her panicked eyes be so free to fall? the look of yearning for someone lost is unmistakeble. shes seen it in her own reflection enough to recognize it.

"my apologies, sweet sister, please go on." once the permission is given, its like her mother sprung back to life. so passionately she speaks of the child left in the hands of their families blood rivals. how rosy his little cheeks were, how his large eyes peered so curiously at his surroundings once they'd adjusted to the light of day. and the last memory she shared before retiring to her bed for the evening. one that would seem minute to someone else, but only solidified the truth in what sybella told her.

"he smelled of sunshine, and all things love."

a phrase used to describe every child after him. she thought it a sweet way for a mother to remember their childrens most vulnerable moments. now she feels unsettled by the sentiment, knowing what weight the secret holds. years of unwavering lineage at risk if she could keep her mother from repeating it to anyone.

all for the bastard of blackwood.