#I just hope the vibes are okay. And by 'okay' I mean in symphony with what I want to tell here.

[604to647]

Scherzo (a Barón Tovar Takes a Wife one-shot)

3.1K / Bridgerton AU Regency!Pero Tovar x fem!reader

Scherzo - a short composition – sometimes a movement from a larger work such as a symphony or a sonata

Summary: Your husband takes care of you when you get hurt during your travels.

Warnings: None! All fluff, though reader gets cheeky with her husband cause I mean, it's Pero? Protective!Pero, Soft Husband!Pero (I NEED HIM). A little bit of violence is described where reader gets physically hurt, nothing graphic.

A/N: This was written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna challenge; please see #jettsflora&faunachallenge for all the other amazing works by some wonderful authors (I didn't do much with the meanings of the flowers, was just going for ✨vibes✨ - hope it's okay!). I tend to always miss my babies after I complete their series, and can't help but write little one-shots for them to see what they're up to. This is our Regency couple from Barón Tovar Takes a Wife, but you don't need to read it (although it would be cool if you did - I'm kind of proud of this one 😭) - just know our happy Barón and Baronesa are doing what they love the most, which is travelling on the high seas together.

Beautiful Bridgerton inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰

Truth be told, Naples is not one of Pero’s favourite places to visit in Italy; the Barón much preferred the rolling vineyards of Tuscany or the cultural diversity of Milan.  At least it will be a short stay, too short to even arrange for lodging in the city; it was much easier for everyone on the ship to remain staying in their onboard quarters while he oversaw some Royal fleet business with the Italians.  It would be just three short weeks before they're set to raise the sails again, this time charting a course up the western Italian coast to the Civitavecchia Port of Rome.  He realizes the last time the two of you were in Rome had been when you said your final goodbyes in his youth, parting ways and not meeting again for over ten years; Pero looks forward to strolling the cobblestone streets together once more, this time with you as his bride.

In the meantime, he would try to expedite the matter before him – if the Italian dignitary sitting across from him would acquiesce, perhaps he can still save enough of the day to take you to do some sightseeing before nightfall.  Just as the stout man’s mustache twitches at something he’s read on the document Pero gave him, someone bursts into the office, violently banging open the door.

Recognizing one of his trusted footmen, Pero exclaims, “Miguel, could this wait?  Signor Romano and I are in the middle of something.”

“No!” cries Miguel, alarmingly, “My apologies, Barón!  It is the Baronesa...”

Pero reacts with blinding speed, his chair knocked to the ground from the force with which he stands, “What has happened?!”

“There was a commotion in the square, my lord.  Your wife was hur-”

Pero is already out the door, running as fast as he can towards the city square where he knows you and your lady's maid, Lucia, had planned to do some exploring while he was away at meetings.  Wind rushing past his ears, he can hear behind him the faint thundering footsteps of Miguel the footman trying to keep up with his master.

When he gets to the square, Pero is stunned to find it in a mild state of chaos – several shops have been vandalized and an overwhelming number people seem to be in a state of mild panic, crying.  He scans the crowd and when he finally spots you, he nearly falls to his knees.  You’re sitting on the ground next to Lucia who is crying loudly, comforting her the best you can; and while Lucia is clearly emotionally distraught, she appears to be physically unharmed - the same cannot be said for you.  Your dress is torn in several places and covered in blood; whose blood Pero does not know, but he realizes, stomach dropping, that some of it at least must be yours when he sees the long bleeding cut down your left forearm.  Your beautiful face has at least one messy scrape across your cheek that he can see even at this distance and your lip looks like it’s starting to discolour and swell.

You spot Pero when he is a but few steps away and instantly feel a wave of relief wash over you at the sight of your strong, handsome husband (though you do hate to see the look of panic and terror on his face).  Dropping down to your side, Pero immediately cups your face in his warm, bear paw hands, careful not to disturb any of your injuries, “Dulce!  How are you?”

You don’t want to tell Pero that your heart is still beating fast from how scared you had felt during the stampede, or how the cuts on your arm and face sting and that your sides and back have started to ache.  You know that doing so will only make him feel worse - but you’ve never lied to your husband in all the years you’ve known him so you simply say, truthfully, “Better now that you’re here, Pero.”  Melting into the soft tender kiss he presses to your mouth, you try not wince when his soft lips meet your bruised ones but fail miserably.  Trying not to shatter in front of you when he hears your pained whimper, Pero wills himself to pull back with a silent reminder to handle you with more care; as he starts to check over your injuries, he asks delicately, “What happened, mi amor?”

One of the sailors who had joined the footmen in accompanying you and Lucia starts to explain before he’s silenced by a glowering look from your husband; Baronesa Tovar is not a woman who needs others to speak for her.

You give the poor sailor a reassuring smile before drawing Pero’s attention back to you and recount for him what happened in the square earlier.  Noticing that the Barón's hands have been cold in the mornings as of late, you had headed out today with a mission to purchase your husband some gloves made with the fine leather craftsmanship that the Italians are known for.  While admiring the buttery softness of a pair of large leather gloves handed to you by a lovely stall merchant, a fight had broken out across the square between a mob of over twenty large and angry Italian men.  The fighting horde continued their bout while moving across the square, barreling into families and unsuspecting people just trying to go about their day.  Caught unawares, the pedestrians scattered and ran panicked in an effort to get out the way of the oncoming melee.  The fleeing crowd had ran in your direction and you and Lucia could not get out of the way fast enough – pushed down to the ground, in your attempt to shield Lucia as the two of you tried to crawl to the side of the street and away from the mob, your dress had been torn by the flurry of feet as runners stampeded, your body kicked more than once.  At one point, someone had produced a pistol and shot at several buildings; and while that effectively ended the fight, several windows had shattered and some of the errant glass had fallen and cut your arm.

Pero feels absolutely sick at the picture his mind conjures of you being physically pushed and kicked, imagining how scared you must have been; he wants nothing more than to sweep you into his arms and comfort you, but without knowing the extent of your injuries, he settles for pressing his forehead to yours and whispering that everything will be okay now.  You believe him.

With some difficulty, Pero helps you stand and brings you back to the ship; both of you agreeing that when the doctor is called, it should be to the safety and comfort of your own quarters.  Though ever gentle with you, the fearsome scowl on Pero’s face clears a path from the square down to the docks – the deep furrow of his brow accentuating the faded scar over his left eye, as if to challenge anyone who would get between his wife and her safe haven.  Calling out for medical supplies and hot water as soon as he’s onboard, Pero leads you to your chambers and sits you on your shared bed before falling to his knees in front of you.  Slumping, tension in his strong frame finally dissolving, Pero lays his head in your lap and lets a few tears fall at the relief of finally getting you back home, safe.  You stroke your husband’s soft curls lovingly, understanding all of him and letting his devotion wash over you - it brings you a calm that you haven’t felt for several hours now.

In silence, you let Pero tend to your cuts and scrapes, eyes never leaving his handsome face as you watch him concentrate on being gentle with his big, sometimes clumsy hands.  Pero washes your face and hands, wiping away all evidence of the time you spent on the hard stone streets of the square, then takes care to thoroughly clean your injuries.  When you hiss at the sting from the salve he applies to the cut on your arm, Pero murmurs, “Be good for me, Baronesa,” and distracts you momentarily from the pain with that sweet smile of his that he knows makes you melt.

Finally comes the point that Pero has been dreading; he undresses you carefully to tend to the injuries on your body, hoping none will be too serious.  Once he has you stripped to the barest of your undergarments, he takes in the bruising that’s starting to show on your legs, hips and back and thinks he might cry again; his beautiful wife, so brave and strong – he cannot believe you sustained these injuries and still allowed him to move you about as he has without complaint.  As if reading his mind, you run a finger through your husband’s scruff that you love so much and try to lighten his mood; nodding towards your discarded dress on the floor, you joke, “I do not think I will be wearing that dress again.”

Half serious, Pero replies, “I think I will bring it to the Polizia tomorrow, when I demand answers for how they allowed what happened in the square to transpire.”

“Pero.”

“Or we throw it over the side of the ship,” he shrugs, a little bit a light returning back to his eyes when he sees your good humour is unscathed; permitting himself to hold you close, Pero breathes his first calm breath since Miguel interrupted his meeting, inhaling your soft perfume.  Seeing Pero in a better mood instantly lifts your spirits, and while in the safety of his loving arms, you give him a playful little wiggle and press your barely clad body to his. 

“Dulce,” he warns, voice dipping low at your giggles.  To show him it’s just a little bit of teasing, you straighten up immediately and allow Pero to run the warm cloth over your body and finish cleaning you up before dressing in your most modest nightgown without any more shenanigans. 

The doctor who is called leaves a short while later, declaring that both you and Lucia will be fine and that a few weeks of lightened activity and rest should heal your injuries without issue.  It’s not something you’re looking forward to, but you agree with Pero that for the remainder of your time in Naples, it would be better if you recovered from the safety of the ship.

For the first few days, you enjoy the calm and quiet of your vessel, many of the sailors and staff taking the opportunity to enjoy some leave while docked.  But as the days go on, with Pero away for most of the day on business, you find yourself getting restless.  You read your books and write your letters.  You play your piano and even entreat Lucia and whomever remains onboard to play cards with you.  From the ship’s deck you can still see much of the city, and even though you have no particular wish to return on this trip (your experience in the square still too fresh), it unfairly beckons to you like a siren.  You’re bored.  And despite loving your ship, you’re starting to feel cooped up.

Pero does his best each day to finish up his work as quickly as possible so he can return to you, enjoying the warmth of your company and checking for himself that you’re recovering properly.  The Barón brings home delicious treats and pretty trinkets for his wife everyday, leaving no doubt that you’re ever on his mind even when apart.  And while you love your husband dearly for his thoughtfulness, you cannot help, while enjoying his gifts from within the boundaries of a ship that once represented freedom to you, feeling a bit envious at being unable to go out and procure them for yourself.  Pero can tell that you’re feeling a bit out of sorts, not your usual cheerful self; he so hates to see the wings of his pretty dove clipped – it saddens him just as much to see you try to hide your melancholy from him.  And although he cannot agree to lift the current restrictions on your movements, he deeply wishes for a way to make your so-called confinement as pleasant as possible.

The morning that marks the start of your last week in Naples, you wake to an absolute ruckus coming from the ship deck; for a moment you feel a stab of fear, unused to such loud noises and voices without having been given some forewarning.  You must still be feeling some effects of your recent scare, you think; upon listening a bit more carefully, you relax to the realization that the voices are primarily instructive and even calm.  But it’s still much too early for this level of activity from the deck – the footsteps and voices you hear must be from at least double the amount of people you would normally expect to be up at this time of day.  Also unusual is that you’ve woken up to an empty bed; every day following the incident in the square, you’ve woken up to your husband curled around you, arms and legs thrown over your body like protective amour.  You don’t think you particularly like today’s change, but it makes sense – you can’t imagine whatever is going on outside to be taking place without your Pero’s permission.  Not especially looking forward to another day of doing the same things again within the same confines of the ship, you lay in bed for a while longer, at least until the noises start to die down and your curiosity gets the better of you.

The sight that greets you as you open the door to the deck nearly knocks you off your feet.  Somehow, it’s not a wooden ship’s deck that you’re now gazing upon, but a colourful and enchantingly idyllic scene, something that could have been painted by a great master of the arts.  For a moment, you have to pinch yourself, is this a dream? 

You step through the doorway from the ship’s hold into an ethereal garden – blooming flowers have overtaken every inch of the ship’s deck: thick braided garlands of roses, violets, and peonies wrap wondrously around every one of the ship’s railings, big bright pots of lilacs, azaleas and irises line the sides of the ship and surround a makeshift sitting area where some garden furniture you’ve never seen before has been arranged.  Even the mast has been decorated to look like a spring maypole, intertwining vines of clematis and jasmine crisscross all the way down from the crow’s nest so tightly you can barely see any of the dark wood that normally centres your great vessel.  Every bow is positively dripping with wisterias, reminding you for a moment of your beloved Bridgerton House.  You walk slowly through the dreamlike scene, weaving between the lush plants and the fresh, bold flowers.   Brushing your hand over the railing as you meander, your fingertips flutter at the soft feel of the blooming petals and your eyes brighten at the rainbow hues that paint every perimeter inch of the ship.  Your nose breathes in the sweet and intoxicating floral scent that now dances lightly in the air.  You close your eyes and inhale.  Your eyes open again with a soft exhale.  Repeat.

You’re turning around slowly, trying to take in the entirety of your magical surroundings when your eyes land on your beaming husband, standing like a handsome faerie king holding an exquisite bouquet of your favourite peonies in his hand, waiting for his pretty queen to take in all his hard work.  Despite the residual pain you still feel a bit in your sides, you launch yourself into Pero’s arms, throwing your own around his neck and passionately press your lips to his.  Mouth opening, you let Pero lick in and explore, before pulling yourself up onto your toes and suck on his tongue eagerly.  Pero pulls you in tightly and when he feels your tongue stroke behind his teeth, lets loose a deep vibrating hum of want that reverberates through you, straight to your core.  With a quick nibble to your bottom lip and a few chasing flutter kisses, Pero reluctantly pulls away; he’s sure there are curious eyes all over the ship deck, even if they are currently concealed by the splendid greenery that’s overtaken the space.

When he steps back look at you, the expression on your face almost gives Pero enough reason to throw modesty and decorum out the window, grab at your enticing curves and throw you down amidst the lush fauna he’s brought onto the ship to have his way with you.  Almost.  Your eyes shine bright and twinkle, there’s a fresh glow to your cheeks, and your smile is the widest that he’s seen in weeks: you’re alive again.

“Pero,” you cry in bliss, “what is all this?”

The Barón gently cradles your head in his hand and reverently strokes the soft hair of his beloved Baronesa, “Mi amor, I could tell that staying confined to the ship has not been agreeing with you.  If you cannot go out to explore and play in the wide world, then I will do my best to bring the wide world to you.  Now, instead of a cold, dreary ship deck, I hope you will enjoy the remainder of the week before we set sail in your own private garden.”

You could cry – what did you ever do to deserve the love and devotion of your perfect husband?  He forever thinks of your comfort and the wellness of your heart – but he does so much more than just take care of you or do things that make you happy, he’s the reason for your joy, for your very being.  You cannot stop murmuring, Thank you thank you thank you, into his chest as he holds you close, not only to him but for him.

The flowers last a week which is precisely how long you need them to last.  During those final days before your fleet sets sail, you find yourself soothed every time you enter or sit in your personal secret garden; second, by the tranquility and peacefulness of your botanical hideaway, and first, by the knowledge that you have the love of the kindest, sweetest man on earth.

Leaning now along the once again bare wood railing, with the salty sea wind blowing through your hair, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist.  The patchy facial hair of your husband tickles your cheek as he presses a sweet kiss to your temple and whispers in your ear, “Happy to be on our way, Dulce?”

Turning in his arms, you snuggle into his safe hold; tucking yourself under his chin, you sigh into Pero’s neck, “Just happy, mi amor.”

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

Okay, sorry, I saw the orchestra AU card game post and I just have to nerd our else I'll burst. Hope you don't mind!

Whether a piano is present in an orchestra depends on 1) type of orchestra 2) time period. This is because pianos originated (well, I say originated, but honestly nobody really invented pianos as they are now - they have very long history) as a chamber instrument, or in other words, an instrument that was meant to be a part of small group of instruments and mostly played with a small company at one's comfort, not a music hall. Of course, they were also able to be played solo. But for... Some time, piano as an instrument wasn't as popular as it is now. One of the (many!) reasons for this is the modern pianos' distant ancestors (harpsichords, for one) really weren't able to give that much of a powerful sound that could carry in the orchestra like many more instruments did.

Coming back to the type of orchestra - this is why symphonic orchestras (orchestras that primarily play symphonies - huge, long pieces consistent of around 4 different parts) don't usually have pianos. For the longest time, they just weren't needed nor used. That changed with the invention of fortepiano (so... Basically a Loud piano), and its rise to stardom, in late 18th century and onwards - now some symphonies started to include pianos, although it was - and still is - rare. The first (known) symphony with a piano part in it was composed in 1886, to be precise.

[Then more stuff happened, fortepianos were kind of used in the orchestras, then not used, becoming obsolete again, then used again in 20th century and now we have a mixed bag - completely unimportant for the point I'm making, just wanted to say that classical music is both much more of a dumpster fire and an absolute historical mess than I think most people realize (so don't blame me for inaccuracies haha-)]

Why am I saying all that? Well, pianist Mafuyu would either be a guest pianist for a new, kind-of-revolutionary but we aren't sure people will like it symphony written by... Someone (Kanade?), which would already kind of be intriguing, or she'll be an accompaniment to someone else, a part of a small chamber orchestra perhaps. But I feel like the first option is just so much Vibe with the whole late 19th century aesthetic, especially with Rui's whole... Lightbulb thing in that card, and how he compares himself to Edison in EN translation. Just that kind of time period, if we skit around the accuracy and go for like, completely made up fantasy setting. The Vibe.

Sorry I went onto a tangent, you accidentally touched my hyperfixation (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) you don't have to add or even respond to this of course, I just felt compelled to infodump. And I can't do that in reblogs because tumbrl is very mean to me.

please don't apologise at all, that was so interesting!! yes, i rather like old fashioned AUs so that would fit perfectly, oooooh...

Kanade could definitely fit in the AU, actually

[the-official-account]

Episode 18 liveblog YIPEE!

Fewer opening notes on this one. I'm gonna attempt liveblogging AND drawing at the same time, let's see how that goes. I'm currently feeling very smug with my advertisement efforts and while I hope to get to spar and vellum today I realized I made Anya kinda thin and that feels...not right for her vibes. So I'm doing Anya again...that's my excuse JGLDKDHDIS she's so...she's like a purse sized friend

Anyways, beginning of this i was not in front of my art tablet so:

"we come as a pair" haha. Cute.

Cloven heart said OUR little brother figure [bugs bunny com meme]

Scientist with a radio tower.....max.....hm. interestinger an interestinger

Yeah josepha you might be the only person in town who wants cloven heart to be the "center" of anything. Why not sindershore? She already works....idk, there? Or in v.n

Vellum just pulls out the papers lmao. Like why not!

Max came up with the schematics... Did max disappear? Yeah. Hm. HM!

Josepha used to be a woodworker? Was I remembering that right or did my brain just make this up.

"We would talk to Thorne" 😬

MAX WHAT

THEIR NAME WAS MAX WHAT?

Did grey have like....a really shitty alias? How old was max??? Fifteen days ago.... Hmmm.

Vellum would know if his uncle was out of town for like 2 and a half months if there was overlap and it took like a day or half a day of a train ride to get back and forth. It's unlikely vellum wouldn't connect those dots

"I was on drugs when I named it I will be honest".josepha is SO good. She's lovely. She's so funny. Oh my god.

"This may not be to your taste of perhaps it is I do not know how you party vellum" NFOSBDKSHDO

"THINK I COULD ROCK THOSE"

"I ALSO DONT KNOW HOW YOU PARTY AGENT VELLUM"

Trying not to burst out laughing in public this is a struggggllleeee

"The belt has 3 slots for arcane cores" I would rather we not go looking for bombs.... But yk. Queer people have plenty of odd hobbies who am I to judge

Okay but like short distance teleportation for someone with a bad leg is a pretty banger deal

"Sometimes you wake up one day and you're retired" In THIS economy?

Also I'm mentioning this out of order bc this episode is being funny faster than I can type, but (I say this with all of the respect) was vellums "I'm sure I'll find other use for you" sultry or was that just Ila's voice? HFOSHSKSBSOS

Spar sounds so depressed. Give this sheep dog some enrichment!

Vellum being like 'Hey you're good we still need to find some more bombs!' he is in fact giving spar some enrichment

"Waiting for this boat and seemingly intent on returninf to clovenheart"

I just squinted with SO much suspicion that that would be diamond

"Is Brunhilde!!!" Dksgsud ok

"Do you say hi to your mom as you're pretending to arrest the chick you dated who you invited into her home on grounds of a repeat assault?" My god

Spar is ~5'8 tati is 5'3 very good to know

~ many hours later, now doing art stuff~

Vellum could fall on this face and STILL look cool

Anya spar and vellum having a snack has gotta go on my to-draw list (my mind is so fast and my hands are so not fast! Ahh!)

OH NEW MIDTRO isk if this was here last episode. OH SHITFUN FACTS? i love blorbo facts

he has written a SYMPHONY? The essentricism is genetic i think.... a smphony baout YEARNING FOR BELONGING? you are handing me a fic idea. NOTE: symphony driven by loss and isolation over being trans, having lost his parents, wanting to find a place where he's accepted

Smooth velvet is his stripper name this episode is just raining fic ideas, huh? (i am joking but also I am not joking. BUt im joking but im not joking....I am deciding if im joking)

DONT BE MEAN TO ISHBALA (spell chat tdb) SPAR!!!!!!

DONT BE MEAN TO GREGGINS EITHER!!! LJKSAFHGLKAHFGLAKSG

greggins binder generator.

[not episode related but im battling between having sincere thoughts about Anya's fashion sense and going "ooooh belly"]

I FEEL LIKE THIS IS PROBLEMATIC AND YOU'RE GONNA GET CANCELLED AND HERE'S WHY

ALSDHGLKASDHGASKGFASGD MY SWORDS A GHOST NOW OHHHH MY GOD I LOVE THEM

SEKITAN WAS A VICTIM....WOAH.......WOOOOAH.

ALTERATION RESISTANT BLOOD? HOOOOLY SHIT. WOAH. WOAH. WAOH MAN. WOW. FUUUUCK. i dont evne......

anya said hey your uhhhh. Your uhh special friend is little stressed. go makeout of whatever. THEY'RE WALKING ARM IN ARM LMAOOOO

ishbala just chose violence SO unprompted

[anya is drawn now for spar and vellum iterations i am...........Well to be fair i am Never very confident going in and it walways turns out okay!!!]

"*he puts a gun in vellums hands* its goot to know you're with someone who can protect you." s;aldfalsfdjaw awhhhhhhhhh!!!!!! SPAR DOESN'T GET PROTECTED SPAR IS ALWAYS THE ONE JUMPING IN FRONT OF THE BULLET DO YOU KJNOW HOW MUCH THIS MEEEEEEEANS TO ME?????

"when you got a good one you keep em" thats it thats spar

spar is correcting vellums stance and vellum must be SCREAMING inside lmao. Vellum focuses SO HARD on everything BUT spar directly behind him and accidentally becomes an expert

ARE THEY ALSO IMPRESSED BY THE SEXUAL TENSION

vellum, full on titanicking it with spar is trying VERY hard to respect boundaries and that is my FAVORITE kind of tension. "I am not making moves because i respect you as a person" is never not entertaining

STOP JUMPSCARING ME WITH THIS FUCKING KISSES I GASPED TOO HARD AND CHOKED ON MY SPIT HOLY FUCK. HOOOLY FUCK.

ughhhhh drawing kisses is such a pain but FUCK do i wanna.

oooh this new outro is so fancy!!!! i love the format changes that are happening here!

im torn between doing another episode tonight and saving it for tomorrow so I can focus fully on drawing.......ill feel out the vibes after i get spar's jaw right. LOVELY episode. spar is making moooooooves!!!!

@threeheartscast i almost forgot!

[justice4canyonmoon]

Holding a vibe to the head of h's cock and one to his prostate and making him cum over and over again until he's squirming and crying

Anonymous asked: overstimulating harry

holy shit I'm finally writing again!!!! this one is pretty short, but I felt like I would've just been putting in filler material to make it longer. I hope you like it :)

warnings: smut!!! 18+ only!!!! overstimulation, vibrators, anal penetration, mean-ish dom! reader, sub! harry, crying during sex

wc: 685

“I-I can’t, baby. ‘S too much,” Harry whimpered, nearly sobbing.

He was in a somewhat compromising situation. A pink vibrator was being held to the head of his cock, fastened in place by tying it to his thigh with a belt, and a purple one was stuffed into his tight hole, nudging against his prostate. The vibrations of the toys were incredibly pleasurable; the sounds of the buzzing toys and the wrecked moans spilling from Harry’s lips in perfect harmony as they filled the room with a symphony of his pleasure. He had already cum twice, though, and both areas were feeling increasingly sensitive.

“Oh, it’s too much? I thought you wanted me to make you cum, baby. That’s why you were sending me naughty pictures of yourself while I was at work, isn’t it?” you mocked, flicking the setting of the pink vibrator up a bit higher.

Harry jolted from the sudden stimulation, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, “F-fuck, b-baby, I-”

He cut himself off with a high-pitched moan, bucking his hips as you pulled the purple one out of his hole and thrusted it back in.

“What were you saying, darling? Couldn’t quite hear you,” you taunted.

Harry swallowed, trying to keep his composure as he whined, “I-I wanted y-you t’ make me cum.”

“I am,” you stated matter-of-factly, though you both knew what he meant.

Harry wanted you directly. To finger him, suck his cock, eat him out, ride him.

“W-want you t’ t-touch me y’self.”

You shook your head, “Don’t deserve it today, sweetheart. You were a bad boy, so this is all you get. I know you’re close again, you can cum for me one more time, can’t you?”

His legs trembled, tears now stinging his eyes, “I-I don’t know.”

You grew a little worried then, “What’s your color, love?”

“G-green,” he stammered out.

And it was true. It was intense, but so fucking good. Sure, he’d prefer your hands on him, but if this was the best he was going to get, he’d take it.

“Then quit your fucking whining and take it.”

You flicked the setting up on the purple one so it matched the pink, and Harry thrashed on the bed. Desperate calls of your name were falling from his lips, and the tears that were in his eyes now fell down his cheeks.

“You look so pretty when you cry,” you cooed mockingly, leaning forward from where you were knelt between his spread legs to kiss the tears off of his face.

He sobbed out a little “please” as he approached his release, needing you to bring him there. Your lips trailed down to his pert nipples, sucking one of them into your mouth as you continued to thrust the purple vibrator in and out of him.

“Y/n, f-fuck,” Harry sobbed as his orgasm slammed into him.

It hit him with a breathtaking strength. His legs shook as you pulled his third orgasm of the day out of him, crying out into the air surrounding him with pleasure and pain as they toys continued to overstimulate him through his release. When he came down from his high, you still hadn’t pulled the toys away, and you nudged the one in his hole against his prostate a bit harder than before.. He cried out your name, his body squirming underneath your sweet torture.

You detached your mouth from his nipple, “Think you can give me a fourth, my darling?”

Harry swallowed hard, but nodded, “I-I think so.”

“Then stay still this time. Hard to make you cum when you’re squirming.”

“Can’t help it. ‘S too much,” Harry protested.

He squeaked when a sharp smack landed against his thigh, “You’re going to help it. If you can’t, I’m tying you down.”

“O-okay. I’ll t-try,” he promised, though he didn’t know if he could keep it.

You turned up the setting on both vibrators, smirking at his trembling limbs as he tried to keep still for you despite the amount of pan and pleasure coursing through his veins, “You’re in for a long night, sweetheart.”

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Brothers and Side Characters Go on a Road Trip!

So, Diavolo, Lord of the Devildom, wants to go on a road trip for reasons unknown. You know what? Screw it, the reason is because Dia wants to do a fun human thing because MC brought it up during tea time. No one can defy the king, so TIME FOR A ROAD TRIP!

Shut Up! HE DOESN’T NEED DIRECTIONS! (Lucifer)

He was going to turn that car around. That’s it, he was going to leave. Someone else drive.

I hope your MC likes staticky traffic updates because that’s what Lucifer constantly had on the radio.

Obviously, some of the brothers complained, so Lucifer put on Beethoven’s Symphony no. 9. HELL YEAH TURN IT UP DJ!

Lol JK no one can car-dance to classical music. Just go back to the staticky traffic updates…

Lucifer would have preferred it if MC or Barbatos were riding shotgun next to him, but Diavolo ended up getting it. Dia is constantly asking Lucifer to stop so he can take pictures of the most mundane shit.

Lucifer stopped stopping after the first fifteen requests.

“I’m not stopping at McDonalds- hang on. Hi McDonald’s employee, one black coffee please.”

In true father fashion, Lucifer got lost and REFUSED to ask for directions. They were lost for five hours before Diavolo finally asked:

“Lucifer, you can turn on the GPS right?”

“Yes, but I don’t trust it.”

Everyone screamed in frustration and were all fully prepared to abandon Lucifer at the side of the road.

Please… can someone else drive? Anyone else…

Are We There Yeeeet..? (Mammon)

Okay, so, Mammon was one of two ways on that road trip. One: complete ADHD daydream zoned out. Or type Two: AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRREEEEE WEEEEEEEE THEEEEEEEEERRRRRREEEE YEEEEEEET???!

He wanted to stop and go to all the tourist traps, by the end of the road trip Mammon wanted to open his own.

The Avatar of Greed loves driving, problem is, he’s used to driving off into the sunset as a lone bachelor, not with his friends and brothers in the car as well.

He only got to drive once, and it was awful. 0/10 would not recommend. Luke thought MC was driving and called shotgun…

Mammon just turns on the radio for music and hopes something good is on at least ONE channel.

STOP WEAVING BETWEEN LANES YOU MORON-

Not all of Mammon’s time driving was bad, the combined powers of Luke and Mammon meant that everyone stopped at a petting zoo at the side of the road. Everyone had a good time, even though when they got back into the car they all smelled like a farm.

Did anyone else hear that oinking in the car-

*Vibes to Music in the Backseat* (Levi)

After being cruelly dragged from his room and placed in this stupid van… he just climbed into the backseat and put on his headphones.

Maybe anime openings could drown out this problem…

Levi only drove for fifteen minutes, it was the most terrifying fifteen minutes of everyone’s lives.

Mario Kart is not a substitute for proper driving school!

Listen- Levi actually saved the entire trip, after stopping at a gas station everyone noticed that Levi never complained about what was on the radio because he was wearing headphones, so everyone bought their own pair and the car trip was so much more pleasant…

No matter how many times Lucifer told Levi to get his feet off the seat, he wouldn’t listen, he was GAMING and they took him away from his gaming chair! HE NEEDED TO SCRUNCH HIMSELF UP LIKE A GOBLIN TO FOCUS DAMMIT!

Whenever the car would stop so everyone could get out and take a picture or look at something, Levi had to be practically dragged out of the car and manually posed for the pictures.

“Is this one of those vans with TVs in them? I brought the first five volumes of TSL on DVD!”

While Satan was driving they stopped at a lake, and Levi burst out of the car and made friends with all the lake fish.

He was still soaking wet when they had to leave.

I’m a Responsible Driver- IS THAT AN OLD BOOKSTORE?! (Satan)

Satan, we believed in you…

Our favourite nerd wanted to stop at any and all historical spots or cool looking bookstores he saw.

When everyone went to buy headphones, he got a pair with cat-ears on them! Because obviously!

Satan’s a responsible driver, and he’s not as prone to road rage as one might think. He has patience, remember in the Jobs event when he worked in customer service? Those kinds of jobs take a godlike amount of self control to do.

Asmo called shotgun and Satan got to have the wonderful experience of having his ear chatted off by his dear brother.

Satan was not about to have fast food for the eighth time in four days, if everyone wanted food, he’d stop at a restaurant.

He was terribly sorry to anyone who needed to use the restroom, but they should have gone at the last rest stop.

When Satan stopped at the lake, he gave everyone a long lecture on the historical significance of the place, then noticed that Levi was being crowned king of the lake and decided he should cut his history lesson short before Levi abandoned his family to chill with the fish forever.

I wanted Satan to be the normal chill one with the radio… I really did… but deep in my subconscious I feel like Satan would put on one of those language learning DVDs so he can learn another language on the go like a total dork.

Road Rage (Asmodeus)

No one saw this coming but- Asmo gets some B A D road rage. Someone cuts him off? “Hi hello dear, WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SHOVE MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS?!” Someone doesn’t use a turn signal? “YOU BRAIN DEAD MORON! LEARN TO DRIVE!” Someone just pisses him off? “*prolonged horn sound*”

It’s just… the car trip was so taxing on the poor Avatar of Lust… he was crammed into the middle seat for the majority of the trip… he had to give his sleeping mask to Belphie… Beel was getting crumbs all over him and he couldn’t move over… just so tragic…

Solomon called shotgun and it was the greatest couple of hours of his life. He got a front row seat to Lucifer and Barbatos dragging Asmo back into the car because he tried to pick a fight with another driver.

Asmo wasn’t having a good time…

He didn’t want to stop for any gas station food or go through a drive-thru so it was another expensive restaurant trip. Rest In Peace to the gang’s wallets.

When he wasn’t driving, Asmo was loudly talking with MC or talking on the phone. It was a blessing in disguise when they went through an area with bad phone reception and Asmo finally had to shut up.

Oh well… at least he got a few nice pictures for Devilgram.

MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! (Beel)

We all know Beel is massive, right? His head is touching the ceiling and every speed-bump hurt.

He’s the one begging to stop at every gas station or fast food place they pass by.

Beel’s section in the car was covered in empty bags of Doritos by the end of the trip.

When Beel got to drive, Belphie got shotgun! Hell yeah dream team!

Poor Beel, he got distracted and ended up somehow popping a tire. He pulled over next to a farm, changed the tire, then got back in the car and kept driving.

Uh… there was an awful lack of snoring next to Beel- OH FUCK THEY LEFT BELPHIE!

Belphie was found sleeping next to the cows on the farm they had stopped at earlier.

The cows didn’t want to give their sleepy god up so easily…

After that… Beel didn’t want to drive anymore…

“Look, cows.” (Belphie)

I really need to stop with the cow jokes but I CAN’T

*snore*

Belphie’s crammed between Beel and MC for most of the trip and is probably drooling all over poor MC’s lap or shoulder.

Beware, he jolts up randomly and looks around in a panic before he realizes he’s in a car. This happens every three hours.

Belphie’s not allowed to drive, he’d fall asleep. But when Lucifer takes the wheel and puts on that fucking staticky radio, Belphie forms an idea.

“*ahem* four thousand bottles of beer on the wall, four thousand bottles of beer,”

Mission success, Lucifer wanted to tear his hair out.

Belphie ended up asking to stop when they get to a stretch of road with no streetlights, everyone got out of the and stared at the stars.

…listen, it’s a miracle no one got axe murdered but the stars were gorgeous.

Remember when I said Satan put on those language learning DVDs? Yeah uh…. Belphie woke up from his last nap of the trip almost fully fluent in Spanish. At least one person gained a new skill on this trip…

Oooo, Look at Thaaaaat! (Diavolo)

Even though the side characters were in a different car most of the time, sometimes people would switch to the other car if they met up at a gas station.

By the end of the road trip Dia looked like one of those tourist dads, Hawaiian shirt and all.

Dia can’t drive

He’s absorbing human culture… and human culture involves ordering everything at this random Wendy’s.

Diavolo’s camera roll is so unbelievably full by the end of the trip and he refuses to delete ANY of the pictures.

Most of the pictures are of really weird and boring stuff, like traffic signs and trees, but the picture he ends up printing out and putting in a picture frame is a picture of the whole group at the petting zoo having a grand old time.

He wanted to take home a baby goat but Barbatos said that wasn’t a good idea :(

Help. (Barbatos)

So, it could have been worse for Barbatos, he could have been stuck in the car with the brothers and MC.

Dia always had the seat up front, but when he left the car to go hang out with the dude-squad, Solomon got the passenger seat.

Solomon decided it would be a good idea to pester Barbatos to go faster and take weird shortcuts through (probably not legal) backroads and creepy forest paths.

Good thing Barbatos, Luke, and Simeon had functioning brain cells and knew that’s how horror movies began.

Barbatos stopped for fast food once and only once. It’s not healthy!

He’s the only driver to take suggestions for music, meaning that the side characters’ car was the best one of the two.

“SOMEONE GET THE BARF BAG!”(Simeon)

He’s just… he’s just trying his best not to vomit…

Simeon thought the car would be a good place to get some writing done while they drove down long stretches of road. Simeon was wrong in that assumption.

With his head down way too much while the car zoomed down the highway, Simeon felt himself getting *very* sick about four hours in.

He was worried he may have accidentally eaten something of Solomon’s… but nope. The angel was carsick.

Luke had the important job of patting Simeon on the back as he leaned over the barf-bag while Solomon dry heaved up front.

Hurry and open the windows before Solomon barfs too!!!!

Other than the car sickness, he had the job of making sure Luke was entertained, there was a good hour of eye-spy until they just got to a stretch of forest.

After that, Simeon realized that he could just give Luke free permission to ramble about whatever he wanted and that would keep the little guy entertained for HOURS.

What do You Mean I Can’t Legally Make This Turn?! (Solomon)

Shifty bastard can drive, problem is, he doesn’t care about the laws of the road.

He ended up getting pulled over after breaking approximately 11 traffic laws in less than ten minutes.

“License and registration.” “Yeah yeah yeah…” “…sir, this license expired in 1989.” “…shit.”

Solomon gunned it and managed to use his magic to hide the car and evade the very confused traffic cop.

Luke was completely aghast at the flagrant law breaking, but Solomon’s excuse was that the 80s were a lawless wasteland and he completely forgot he legally had to update his license.

He’s an equally obnoxious passenger as he is driver, but at least no one in the car is bored.

“You know, back in the day cars didn’t have seatbelts.” “Solomon put your seatbelt back on.”

…Can we keep it? (Luke)

He was against this from the start. A road trip? With those nasty demons? No! Never!

Okay fine… maybe he wanted to see some more of the human world… he agreed to go.

After helping Simeon through his car sickness, he misheard the other car say that MC would be driving, and Luke wanted to hang out with his third parent 🥺

That’s how he ended up riding shotgun next to Mammon. It started out rough, but when the two spotted the petting zoo it was all sunshine and rainbows.

Luke made friends with all the animals! He was like a little Disney Prince. He got especially attached to this one piglet, it was a surprise to Simeon that the goodbye wasn’t tearful.

Luke smuggled that piglet out of the petting zoo and they were all over fifty miles away before anyone noticed.

Of course, everyone was just shocked that Luke had stolen something, but he looked so cute holding the little piggy… awwww…

The bros obviously joked that Luke had gone to the dark side and was totally evil because he had taken the pig, much to the poor kid’s dismay.

Simeon tried to convince Luke that he needed to return the piglet but Luke was adamant that he could totally take good care of it.

Welp, time for Lucifer to fix this.

“Luke, you need to go put the pig back, it’s not yours.”

“No! I’ll take good care of it!”

“That doesn’t matter, you stole it. It’s not your property, do you want to end up a scummy thief like Mammon?”

“No not at all. Let’s go return the pig.”

“THAT’S ALL IT TOOK?!”

[homerforsure]

Whumptober No. 21

bleeding thru the bandages / pressure / blood-matted hair

Whumptober No. 31

disaster zone / trauma / prisoner

Tour Guide Buck AU

(This one is a little messy, I’m afraid. I used it to play with the vibes I might use for Eddie in this fic and also I let the night get away from me so I’m a smidge sleepy)

*

It’s chaos in the wake of the wave. So many voices are begging at once, screaming, trapped, dying, that they start to blend together, a symphony of suffering. The streets that Eddie is finally starting to recognize are suddenly familiar in a different way. He can feel his gait change as he moves through the city. No longer just single-mindedly charging towards a lone emergency, Eddie has his head on a swivel, constantly scanning for victims. For danger. Like slipping on an old coat, he’s Staff Sergeant Eddie Diaz again. 

Because it’s exactly who he needs to be, Eddie doesn’t fight it. The ABCs he learned in paramedic training give way to the MARCH of the army as the 118 responds to trauma after trauma: crushes, lacerations, compound fractures, traumatic head injuries, and more than one impalement. There are an uncountable number of drownings, all of them over and final by the time they arrive on scene, and the hopeless bodies they leave behind in pursuit of ones they can save are going to haunt Eddie for years. 

Despair is paralytic so he puts it aside for now, refuses to allow the anger that would make him reckless and unfocused to kindle in his chest and falls back hard on his training. Tourniquets and pressure dressings, bags of fluids and piles of shock blankets. None of them know when any of these people are going to see a real hospital or a real doctor so Eddie’s job is to give them the best chance of living long enough to get there. 

“Good save, Eddie,” Bobby says, clapping him on the back as Hen and Chim work to stabilize the teenager that Eddie saw buried under what used to be the brick façade of a bookstore, only his fingertips visible and moving under the rubble. His praise is fainter when Eddie climbs a half-uprooted tree to untangle a woman trapped in the upper branches and then performs a needle thoracostomy to decompress a pneumothorax. By the time he’s performed an emergency tracheotomy on a man with severe facial trauma who can't receive oxygen any other way, his captain’s mouth is pressed in a thin line. 

Eddie thinks he knows what Bobby’s seeing. He knows the way he gets in a warzone, the way he has to get to survive it. There’s a ruthlessness to field medicine the same way there’s a ruthlessness to a surgeon’s scalpel. It’s not just leaving your feelings about a case at the hospital doors, it’s never letting them in at all. Terrified last breaths and bloody faces and mangled limbs are the purview of nightmares. Eddie can’t process them, can’t see them, right now or he’ll never be able to do his job. And Bobby sees Eddie not seeing them.   

“Get some air,” he says finally, after Eddie responds to a case of secondary drowning at the field hospital. The kid is young, younger than Christopher, and there’s a moment when Eddie thinks it’s too late and all of his careful detachment slips and Bobby sees.

“Cap-”

Bobby fixes him with that gaze that’s less captain and more dad and says, “Eddie, this shift isn’t going to end at seven. We’re going to be on search and rescue for days and it’s not gonna get easier. Call home. Rest for an hour, okay?”

It’s a direct order which means that Eddie says, “Yes, sir,” instead of “I’m fine.” 

He goes outside, but it’s too late to call home. He shoots a text to Carla, asking if she can get Christopher to school in the morning and back home again after and hopes he can keep enough charge on his phone to follow up when she replies in the morning. 

After that, Eddie should lie down. Rest is essential and he’s learned how to grab it at any time and in nearly any condition. But he can’t stop scanning. He’s watching other first responders rushing around, treating the victims that just don’t stop pouring into the field hospital, grabbing each and every one and directing them to the type of help they need most. There’s something soothing about it. Like LA’s a giant ant hill that got washed out by the wave, but here its people are, out and rebuilding right away. That’s the part that was missing during his service. The thought that there might be an end to it. 

He sees something. 

Eddie doesn’t quite know what it is. He’s scanning and then something trips his senses so he scans backward. Forward. No one is moving in panic. The scene is chaotic, but in a predictable way. Nothing really stands out as-

A flash of orange. 

If he hadn’t spent so much time looking for that flash in a crowd at some of the busiest tourist attractions in LA, there’s a chance it could have escaped Eddie’s notice. But his heart lurches and he knows he’s not imagining it. 

Eddie loses sight of it in the crowd as he leaves his position next to the tent and he raises himself up on his toes to see over them. He starts panicking, thinking he lost him and then the crowd parts and Eddie almost loses his breath. 

“Buck.”

His voice is too soft and Buck doesn’t hear him. He looks a little lost in the crowd. Worn and disheveled and, fuck, he looks beat to hell. That ridiculous orange tour shirt is ripped and filthy, wrinkled beyond belief. 

“Buck!” Eddie calls again and Buck just gets his head up before Eddie makes it to him, his blue eyes bewildered and cloudy.

“Eddie?” he asks. 

There’s a child on his back. A girl in a purple t-shirt, less than ten and just as exhausted and bruised as Buck is. She’s clinging to Buck’s neck, her legs around his waist, and Buck is somehow holding both of them upright. But not for long. He takes a staggering step forward, saying Eddie’s name again and Eddie grabs for Buck and for his radio at the same time.

“Hey, I need some help out here.” 

“I think she twisted her ankle,” Buck says. “It doesn’t look broken but I-I-I don’t really know how to tell.”

“Okay,” Eddie answers, cataloging the deep gashes on Buck’s face, the red soaked rag around his arm, and the painful stiffness to his walk. When he gets close enough to take the girl in his arms, he can see that what he thought was just water dampening Buck’s hair is actually blood, half dried in places, but still oozing a little from the part in his hair. 

“It’s okay, kiddo,” Eddie says to the girl who protests as she’s shifted from one perch to another. “You’re safe now. We’re going to take care of you.”

Buck seems to fade as the weight is lifted from his back, like that purpose was the only thing keeping him upright and he says, “Violet. Her name is Violet.”

Hen emerges from the tent at Eddie’s call. She finds him quickly, taking in Violet, listless in Eddie’s arms and noting Buck staring at both of them from a few feet away. “What do we have?” she asks. 

“This is Violet,” Eddie answers, passing the child over again. “Can you take her inside?”

“Where are her parents?” Hen asks.

At that, Eddie looks over at Buck who shakes his head. “Missing,” Eddie replies. “Check out her ankle, okay? Buck thinks she might have sprained it.”

“Buck?” Hen says, looking up at him with a different expression on her face. “Is he-?”

“I’ve got him,” Eddie answers. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Violet whimpers in Hen’s arms and that’s the end of the conversation. She hurries away with the little girl and Eddie watches them go until he sees Buck start to crumple in his periphery.

“Whoa, easy, I got you,” Eddie catches him just in time and Buck sags against him, boneless and shaking. Gripping tight, Eddie bears him up and says, “Don’t worry, Buck, I got you. Can you walk with me a little bit? I gotta get you inside, okay.”

It takes a phenomenal effort, but Buck puts weight on his feet again. He’s still leaning heavily against Eddie, but he lets himself be led slowly inside toward one of the few empty cots left. As Eddie helps him to sit, Buck groans pitifully and tries to lay down. Eddie doesn’t let him. 

“Hey, hey, hey, stay with me, Buck, okay? I need to check you out before you can sleep. Can you tell me what happened? Can you tell me what hurts?”

Buck looks up at him and his expression is distant.

Concussion, Eddie thinks. Exhaustion. Blood loss. It could be anything. His skin is cool under Eddie’s hands and everything is so wrong. Buck shouldn’t be here like this. He’s meant to be happy and carefree, shining in the sun and not limp and broken.

“Where’s Violet?” Buck asks, frantic without warning. “She was just here. She-”

“She’s okay. My friend’s got her right over there and she’s going to take good care of her.” He points out where Hen has Violet on a cot across the way, lying down as Hen listens to her chest. Buck sees and relaxes a little and Eddie keeps talking, “Where did Violet come from, Buck? What happened to you out there?”

When Buck lifts his gaze to Eddie’s again, it’s all Eddie can do not to reach out and stroke his fingers gently over his matted hair. He settles for gently turning his head to take a look at those gashes on his cheek and confirm that they don’t reach all the way to Buck’s eyes. As he does, Buck answers, “We were on the pier.”

“The pier?” The pier is destroyed. There is no pier. There aren’t any survivors from the pier except for the few they managed to pluck from the ferris wheel. 

But Buck nods, “Santa Monica tour. The water left all at once and I told everyone to run. Her dad, Max, he handed her to me and said he couldn’t run. He said I had to get her out. Eddie, the water. It came so fast. I lost them. I lost all of them.” 

“Not Violet,” Eddie answers. “You got Violet out.” 

Buck looks toward the girl again to reassure himself and then back at Eddie. He frowns, “What are you doing here?”

Somehow, Eddie actually laughs, “I’m here to take care of you.”

“Okay,” Buck answers. “Good.”

Someone gets him a med kit and Eddie gets fluids into Buck’s arm right away. Buck blanches at the needle, but he lets Eddie do it, just like he lets Eddie clean his wounds and check his pupillary response. Buck’s a quiet and compliant patient and every little flinch he gives, sends a matching prick of pain through Eddie’s chest. The head wound is especially nasty. It opens back up again as Eddie tries to clean it and the fresh blood trickling down Buck’s cheek makes him finally moan a little. 

“I know. I’m so sorry,” Eddie says, encouraging Buck to fall against him, running his hands over his back and whispering soothing nonsense into his ears. “We’re almost done. I’ve got you. You did so good today. You’re so good, Buck.”

He can’t imagine it. Buck crossing the city, escaping the landing site of the tsunami, and carrying a little girl on his back the whole way. Eddie knew that Buck was someone special and finding out that, actually, he’s a real-life hero isn’t that surprising. But there’s a price to be paid for heroism. Buck’s seen all of the carnage that Eddie’s seen today and then some; it’s no wonder he’s exhausted. All Eddie wants to do is gather him up and take him home. To shelter Buck from any more horrors. 

Against his chest, Buck is trembling. His fingers are wound in Eddie’s shirt and his head is tucked into the crook of Eddie’s neck. There are other things to do, other patients to treat, but Eddie doesn’t let go until Buck’s grip on him starts to loosen. 

“Where’s Violet?” he whispers again.

Eddie turns to look and he doesn’t see Hen anymore. He doesn’t see Chimney either or Bobby. But Violet is asleep on her cot, a rough blanket tucked under her chin. “She’s okay. She’s sleeping.”  

Nodding, Buck pushes himself back a little to look at Eddie’s face and Eddie can’t help it, he reaches up and brushes a thumb over Buck’s brow. “You should sleep too.” he says.

“You have to get back to work?” Buck murmurs, his eyes drifting closed.

He does. His shift won’t be over for another four hours and, like Bobby said, they’re days away from this being over. But with Buck drained and hurt in his arms, Eddie doesn’t think he can drag himself away.’

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says. And when Buck’s entire body shudders in relief at the words, Eddie knows he’ll do anything to make them true. He scoops Buck close again and kisses the unmaimed side of his head. “I’m staying right here with you.” 

[swimmingtvshowghostwoman]

This is my thoughts from my first listening of mercury act 2(not including bones and sharks because this is not my first listen to them)

Ahhhhh so excited

General thoughts:

I love that they put act 1 and 2 together

I am really tired but this is so worth it

Bones is so fun I can’t not see Dan dancing

Honestly I will probably love all of this in many different ways

And will definitely have more thoughts once I listen to each song more times

I love sharks . It is a whole vibe

They honestly keep outdoing themselves

The bubble in sharks gives me life

Symphony:

I really like the beat

This is so catchy

I really like this

Ahhhh

I just fucking love this it is so cool

It is so different from everything they did but yet so them

It gives me beach summer vibes 2014 in the best way

I’m obsessed 

I don’t like myself:

Like the beginning

The lyrics!

It is insane how opposites the lyrics and melody sounds but at the same time it is the same

I love their brake verses in all songs and this one is so good

80’s mixed with like 00’s in teen drama vibes again in the best way(like I can see this in the oc or OTH maybe even later things)

Blur:

I don’t know what this is but I like it

It’s so good

The range!

This reminds me of their earlier stuff

“You should give up the fight” hdhdbdjsjsn

I really like this

The instruments are just wow

I honestly love Rick

Honestly I don’t know the vibe but I love it

Higher ground:

I like the rhythm

Idk why but it made me think of bullet in a gun

I like it but it is a mood based song for me or at least need to listen to it more

It is cool

Is it weird I can see them preform this even though I never saw them preform this (i don’t think they have) 

Crushed:

If this is anything like wrecked I will cry

Rain in the beach at dark vibe

His voice gives me chills in like a inside pain way

It is so soft and beautiful

Idk what I’m feeling but I’m feeling it

It is amazing

Take it easy:

My brain went blank and I have zero thoughts other then I liked it and I LOVED the last minute and 8 seconds a lot

Waves:

I ducking love this

I like the way he is singing this

Fuck sad lyrics vs happy music . ID specialty

The end ♥️🤍(slow line)

Again beach vibe but in a completely different way 

I’m happy:

I just ….idk

No words really

Kinda stab in the heart but in a good way but also not good

The end is weird

Ferris wheel:

I love the melody at the beginning

Ferris wheel is very love Simon so lets see if this song is that vibe

I want to hear this as a duet

It is love Simon vibe! honestly it is more the book then the movie (I’m probably just looking for it but still)

I love this

So calm and lovely and just pure it makes me smile

Peace of mind:

The meaning is the vibe

Okay ouch feels called out

I also want someone like this

It makes my brain just work idk how to explain it but it just makes my brain jdisjdbjdjd

Sirens:

Already love this

The melody lyrics vibe rhythm all work so well

I love this

A misunderstood Witch in the hero role vibe

Tied:

Fuck this is sad

It makes me sad smile

The emotions in his voice !!

It’s beautiful . And so sad

But like sad with a tiny bit of hope in it and I love this

God…. Again the last minute…wow

It is so beautifully broken if that makes sense

Younger:

I’m excited for this one

It makes me smile

It is weirdly hopeless and hopeful

Plays in the back of a reboot

This part!!! The solo!! I want to hear it live!! Wayne

I wish:

Fuck

Tears

Fuck

His voice

Beautifully painful

Continual:

It reminds of dolphins for some reason

It’s so ✨🤍🍀💫🎼hope

They don’t know you like I do:

I can’t believe it is the last one

Hurt

Fuck

Tears

I love it is is so open and just amazing

End thoughts:

This album was so beautiful

I love Rick Rubin

My feelings during the listening 📈📉📈📉📈📉

I can’t wait to listen again and again and again on a loop

They just keep reinventing themselves and just keep on doing amazing work and are just wonderful

It was definitely worth staying up for

[genuinelydecimated]

Get It Done, Chargebolt. (kamijirou playlist)

Link: Get It Done, Chargebolt.

Duration: 59 minutes.

I’ve been holding back from uploading this playlist because of the manga, but now I have no reason to keep it secret anymore. This is the kamijirou playlist!! It was actually complete for a while, with small tweaks here and there. This is a really happy and lovely playlist, all the kamijirou vibes.

Note: this playlist does not include Electric Love by Borns, I apologise if you were hoping that song would be in here, but honestly I got tired of it.

Song list, lyrics (the reason I chose them), and notes below!

1. Pull It From My Teeth by Galaxy Family

“Oh sing with me, just pretend that I’m not listening.” “Wandering down the line of love and lunacy.”

2. This Side of Paradise by Coyote Theory

“You’re the ground my feet won’t reach.” “So if you’re lonely, come be lonely with me?”

3. Hallelujah by Paramore

“This time we’re not giving up. Let’s make it last forever.” “Somehow, everything’s gonna fall right into place.”

4. Yr So Retro by Fuller

“I just want your song in my head.” “Be the song in my head tonight.”

5. worldstar money (interlude) by Joji

“I looked at you and said, ‘oh, oh, oh...’“ “Don’t hate me, am I crazy?”

6. Untitled Unloved by MyKey

“Are you gonna love me, like I love you?” “I may come off a bit too strong, I haven’t felt real love in so long.”

7. Symphony (feat. Zara Larsson) by Clean Bandit, Zara Larsson

“And now your song is on repeat, and I’m dancing on to your heartbeat.” “‘Cause I’ve been hearing symphonies. Before all I heard was silence.”

8. lvl70champion by Bilmuri

“So hold me ‘cause it’s a bitter world, but we can make it beautiful.” “But you make it so beautiful to me.“

9. Still Into You by Paramore

“But when our fingers interlock, can’t deny, can’t deny, you’re worth it.” “Let them wonder how we got this far, ‘cause I don’t really need to wonder at all.”

10. Everybody Talks by Neon Trees

“I’m a sorry sucker and this happens all the time.” “Hey baby, won’t you look my way?”

11. Goodnight Moon by Go Radio

“‘Cause I’ve been trying way too long to try and be the perfect song.” “How’d I ever breathe without a goodnight kiss from goodnight you?”

12. 18 by One Direction

“So kiss me where I lay down, my hands pressed to your cheeks.” “We took a chance. God knows we tried. Yet all along, I knew we’d be fine.”

13. Check Yes Juliet by We The Kings

“Don’t sell your heart. Don’t say we’re not meant to be.” “Three, two, one, now fall in my arms.”

14. So Good by HARBOUR

“Tell me just how you feel. Darlin’ tell me just how you feel.” “And tell me baby, please, that this is something.”

15. Scene One- James Dean & Audrey Hepburn by Sleeping With Sirens

“How the hell did you ever pick me? Honestly, I could sing you a song. but I don’t think words could express your beauty.” “They say that love is forever. Your forever is all that I need.”

16. Permanence by Bears In Trees

“We sing our love songs in the dark, so no one has to hear the sparks.” “I want to feel chaotic, but calm enough to hold you in the morning.”

17. We’ll Be Beautiful (feat. POLYDRIVE) by Tobias Dray, POLYDRIVE

“The only time you open up is when you’re singing, but I want you to know I’m always here to listen.” “If you get high, or the sky fall down, just take my hand and we will fly this out.”

This playlist is one of the first ship playlists I ever made, but kept under wraps because the manga was making me nervOUS. So nervous. But I think I’m okay now, so here it is!

You can shuffle the songs, there’s no real order or anything. This playlist means a lot to me, so I truly hope you enjoy it!

[please-say-less]

push my luck (part one)

player: mat barzal | new york islanders word count: 1, 539 warnings: light angst, pining, your heart will literally melt at how sweet mat is, no beta we die like men summary: growing up with mat, you’ve only ever seen him as the shy boy that you’ve spent your whole life being best friends with. after moving to new york, he hasn’t kept in much contact, but when you come to visit, he just wants to know if you’re feelings for him have changed too. author’s note: issa three-shot. bad summary is bad but kinda wrote this on the basis of mat as moreso a Soft Boy™ with hints of being a goober. yeah bro idk what’s with me and roommates to lovers tropes. ok but let me know if y’all are even vibing with the way i write his pov cos my writing feels highkey cringe to me all the time. whoops.

beginning | part two

“Hey, you okay, dude?”

It’s difficult to breathe with the air stuck in his throat, and he can’t help but rub his clammy hands all over his new suit－oh well, it looked nice enough for a few photos. His face is getting a little too hot, and he’s become a stuttering mess with his words. Anybody would think after the last couple of years as a well-known athlete in New York, he’d be able to handle any stressful situation, yet you manage to give him the same effect time after time.

“Huh?” he looks back over to Tito. “Y-Yeah. . . Totally fine.”

The questioning look on his friend’s face is enough of a dead giveaway that Mathew is probably the worst actor and liar on Earth, but he doesn’t care about the endless amount of teasing he’ll get for this. It’s been too long since he’s last seen you and to say that he misses the butterflies you give him would be quite the understatement.

Even now, he doesn’t see you as anything different than the same girl next door from home that he’s spent a majority of life being smitten with and the same ball of energy that’s cheered him on at every game from youth hockey to playing in the NHL until the two of you had to part ways. Yes, the worst event of his life that he’s dubbed his Untimely Death Part 1－Part 2 being the time Tito took him out to Coney Island and handed the poor boy a pretzel before the seagulls started chasing him down the boardwalk. In a way, he’s spent part of his time in New York mourning the death of what used to be, and there’s still a part of him that regrets not keeping in contact with you.

He’s not the most confident guy when it comes to dating, and as he swallows the lump of nervousness that’s been building up in his throat, Mathew hopes that his uncertainty isn’t as painfully obvious as he usually makes himself out to be.

He downs the shot of whiskey, and as the amber leaves a burning trail from his throat down to his belly, he mentally prepares himself on his introduction to you. He wants you to know that he’s grown in the last couple years, and he’s not the same immature boy you knew back home. He’s a man now and has the means to take care of you, should you need it. Chin up, head high, and shoulders back－he struts up to you with his newfound confidence.

“You look beautiful in that dress,” he comments.

Turning around confused, you smile as soon as you see who it is. The two of you embrace, and he can’t help but admire just how well your body fits in his arms－as it always has honestly. He probably has the dumbest, widest smile on his face right now, but he’s just so elated to see you again. It’s hard for him to concentrate on the words coming out of your mouth as he gazes at you with loving eyes through rose colored glasses. You’re just really here right now.

“Mat! It’s been too long!”

He offers you his arm, and you take it as he walks you over to the bar and orders two flutes of champagne from the bartender. The two of you continue to chat for too long of a while, and he almost forgets that talking to you comes just as naturally as breathing. He admires your features and notices that you’ve done some growing as well. Your curves have filled out lusciously, and you have a more womanly aura that surrounds you.

“So how are you and that one guy?” he asks. “You two still together?”

“Please, we were never a thing,” you roll your eyes. “I can’t believe my mom told your mom about that－it was just one date!”

“I’m guessing it didn’t go great then?”

“He spent the whole time messaging other girls, so I made up some excuse to leave. The loser wouldn’t stop messaging me wondering why I wouldn’t go out with him again, and I had to bite my tongue!”

He nods in understanding as you let out an exaggerated huff, but mentally, he’s doing backflips out of joy knowing that maybe you’ve been waiting just as long for him too. How else could someone as beautiful as you still be single after all this time?

“New York seems nice,” you say.

“It’d be nicer with you,” he chuckles.

“Those are some bold words to say, Barzal.”

“It gets kind of lonely sometimes. Tito’s always been closest to me, and now that he’s got a girl, it’s just easier to tell them I’m busy than suffer through being a third wheel.”

You can’t help but laugh at his lame attempt at getting you to move countries, but at the same time, a change of scenery doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all. Besides your family, nothing’s really keeping you tied to your hometown, and your parents continuously insist that you see the world before you settle down. After all, you were single and fresh out of college but having a familiar face in a new place didn’t make it seem as scary.

“I don’t know. . .” you chew your lip. “I did get a job offer around here.”

“Oh yeah?” he tries to contain his excitement.

“I just wouldn’t know where to stay or what to do. A new city can be scary.”

All the stars and moons in the galaxy have perfectly aligned for this moment to finally culminate, and this must be the work of his prayers finally being answered. He needs to shoot his shot now while the ball’s in his court, or the chance may never come again. A sudden wave of nervousness crashes over him at the possibility of the actual death of his relationship with you should he hesitate once again.

“You could stay with me if you wanted－I mean－until you can find your own place.”

He sincerely wants to help you, but he also feels a sense of guilt in hopes that you end up depending on him. Although money hasn’t become an issue in his life after taking the big leap and signing a contract with the Islanders, New York City is by no means an inexpensive place to live.

“I wouldn’t want to impose. . .”

“No－I want you to stay with me!”

Suddenly his Untimely Death Part Three is going to come sooner than expected. His shoulders tense and jaw clenches as he realizes what he’s just blurted out, and he can feel his face turning red at just how dumb he is. He’s just revealed his biggest secret, and he’s in no way subtle or chill about it. He’s ready to turn back around, run out of the building, and head back to his house to hide under a rock until things blow over, but he becomes confused when he hears you giggling.

“I think you’re the only person who’s ever been this excited to live with me,” you smile.

“Uh－Yeah－Wouldn’t want you staying with some stranger or creep, y’know?”

He tries to play it cool, but Mat Barzal, in fact, is not by any means playing it cool. If anything, he’s the creep for trying to get you to stay with him. As if by some magic, you would fall head over heels for him overnight, and everything he’d been dreaming of since childhood adolescence would finally be coming true.

He’d whisk you away, and the two of you could be married somewhere beautiful with white sand beaches and ocean water as clear as the sky. Then maybe you could honeymoon throughout Europe before settling down and buying a house. After that, kids could fit somewhere into the equation. Wait, do you even want kids? He ponders the idea to himself for a moment before smiling at the idea of how cute you would look pregnant, and when he imagines you as a mother tending to your children and husband, he’s sold himself on the idea.

“Careful, I might have to take you up on that,” you snap him out of his daydream.

“Wh-What?” he stutters.

“Honestly, I kind of miss hanging out with you. No one back home can really compare to the Mathew Barzal.”

A light blush spreads across his cheeks. His full name sounds like a symphony coming out of your mouth, and he spends a little too much time focusing on the way your plump lips sound out each syllable of his name. He can’t help but imagine how soft your lips would feel if they were pressed against his, but as he continues to picture the other things those lips could do, he stops himself before having to deal with the possibility of his Untimely Death Part Four in the middle of this gala.

Somehow with his not-so-convincing words, he’s managed to talk you into moving in with him, and when you talk to your families about it, they’re more than happy about your new living situation. It gives them the excuse to visit more often, but he’s more excited at the thought of just being around you again.

[searchingforbucky]

FIC REC (Part 13) :)

Okay! So, this one has been requested at least 13 times lol, I hear you guys, and its finally here! I now present the Single Dad!/Single Mom! AU. I hope you guys love these fics as much as I do! 

Astrophile by @all1e23

Surprise surprise, there was absolutely no way this wasn’t going to be on the list. There is not a single fic that I have been invested more than this one. Like don’t get me wrong, I have favorites, but I am literally invested in this family. This a story about the sweetest (also firefighter? yes) Bucky (December) and his baby girl Orion and a newcomer “Beck”, cue the road to the purest relationship I’ve ever seen, with love that lasts a lifetime, and a universe that is so expertly crafted.. I read this fic at least once a month, and wait on baited breath for the “Astrophile files”. If you haven’t read this, I personally guarantee that you will love it. I know I cant imagine anyone who wouldn’t. My heart was in a constant state of mush during the whole thing.

Ready of Not by @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan

One of my favorite types of stories are the ones where its like a modern AU with Bucky coming back from war, and this is the story that started that love for me. Bucky is out of war, missing an arm, but gaining the cutest therapy dog. Who loves dogs? The readers baby girl. This was just so phenomenally cute, and also like, raw in a way. You see the traumatic effects the war had on bucky so its really realistic, but its also beautifully melded with the sweet moments between Bucky and Gracie, and the reader and Bucky. It may be lame f me to call it “deep” but I really do feel that way, it was a fantastic read. Also, check out her story Bittersweet Symphony, which is another fantastic and honestly kinda sad, albeit unfinished story. 

Sweetest love @propertyofpoeandbucky

Do you want to know Keira? Jesus, this is it. This is a story about a single mom reader, starting a relationship with Bucky, deciding to introduce him to her daughter, and from that we just see the purest real Laois and ship for me. It is so absolutely adorable to see how lovely Bucky is with this baby girl. The title is absolutely encompassing of the fact that it really is just such a sweet pure love between these two people. This family deserves all of the love it can’t get, because my heart absolutely just melted for them. Also check out her stories Bed and bath & From left field which are also so cute. 

The lucky one by @avengerofyourheart

Alright, so Anika Has a fantastic gift for being able to take canon story lines, and interweave these AUS inside of them and oh man did it create a wonderful story. Like I genuinely could believe this is what happened. Bucky is on the run, and single mom reader needs some help on the farm. What can go wrong? This story was just so investing, I feel like I’m still invested in it like I wanna know everything that happened to them. It was such a good story, and that sounds so basic but I really mean it. They were twists and turns and I read it all in one go, and then I just had to go back and read it again because I felt like  I needed to take it in again because it was just so good. Also check out her other incredibly cute story Of snowstorms and men

Bookmark my heart by @moonbeambucky

OK, so I’m not gonna spoil anything, but those of you who know this or will read this will understand why am a little iffy about putting this on this specific list, but also it’s really good so I decided to put it on just because it’s a really good story lol. There are so many feelings that come with this, the reader works at a library and Bucky is there with a little girl and he catches the readers I, and I can’t blame her boy is fine as heck. There are some definite plot twists that come with this, but it is so cute, and Bucky is so baby, and their relationship is so adorable. I need me a bucky. 

Sweet as can be by @yallneedtrek

What’s one trope you guys know I love? Detective Bucky, and what can make it better other than Dad Bucky! Oh my God, this one was literally so cute. Bucky is just a single dad, who has a lot on his mind. He loves his daughter so much, but he doesn’t have the best memory. He needs help with his daughter’s birthday planning that’s coming up within the next day or two, and who better to help other than Baker reader. This couple is absolutely adorable, I think really just the dynamic between all of the characters, like just the love you can see between Bucky and his daughter, and just a kind of mutual pining between the reader and Bucky really just is recipe for a wonderful story. They really are sweet as can be lol

Because I met you by @captain-ariel-barnes

this one is a single!mom reader, and holy hell its cute. Okay so Bucky meets the readers daughter who has a prosthetic arm, amazing concept right? And its just about as cute as you would think it would be. Its such pure interactions between these three, and it really just made my heart absolutely melt. Like, and im not gonna spoil it but holy hell the ending really made me cry, everyone is just way too pure. 

The art teacher by @irndad

God this one is soso cute. 1) its written so well, like poetry the way he describes the reader, its so lovely, and 2) the whole forbidden lovers aspect of dad x teacher thing is so good haha, I love those kinda things. This is short, but so sweet, and the line “the two loves of his life” oof, my heart

Bewitched by @buckyofthemyscira

oh man, OK, so this one is another Halloween time related story, and it’s so cute. It’s a single dad Bucky story where he takes his baby girl out on Halloween, and absolute utter adorability ensues.  He’s dressed up as Indiana Jones, his baby is Winnie the Pooh, I was dressed up as a mess of heart mush and tears because oh my god it was so cute.  Bucky really is just the best father, he’s so sweet and caring and this family made me just want to give them all a group hug.  

Stranger danger by @highkey-holland

Okay so with this one its another sort of “Bucky finds the readers lost kid” story and ohhh man its cute. I always wondered like if the avengers would always get a lot of kids coming to them, and I think this answered my question, she didn’t talk to him until she knew who he was, but I feel like they just give off a safe vibe. The interactions between Bucky and the readers daughter is so pure, no one can convince me that Bucky wouldn’t be the best with kids, he’s so patient and sweet and :)) my heart 

Groceries by @ballyhoobarnes

Hell yeah, now this one is cute as heck. Bucky has a little boy, and oh man is he just the suavest little wing man. This little boy is just about the cutest thing, he’s just throwing out those date invites haha, and the shyness between the two is so cute. The reader is his sons teacher, so you have some of that trope (which I love) all in all its just really cute, shorter, but so sweet. 

Drabble by @bbbarneswrites

Okay I LOVE this one, something about Bucky just adopting an abandoned baby no questions asked makes my heart just want to explode. And seeing the way the avengers like all come together to help raise this girl, is like peak writing to me haha. And then we have mutual pining for his kinder teacher? Soft soft soft, I’m in love. Its just really so incredibly cute!

Lost and Found by @mybearyarmy

Oh man, okay, so this one is Single Dad!Bucky AND Single Mom!Bucky. Its a super cute story of the two of them coming together with their daughters after both losing their SOs (and their daughters at the zoo place haha) its really just a super, super fluffy story. I love the idea of their two girls being friends, and I love that their relationship after their past partners weren’t rushed. There are also some twists in there that I was surprised by haha, you never really can tell who is what in New York .

Life is Gourd by @redhairedfeistynerd

This one is super cute, it’s the start of a series I think, or at least a compilation of one shots. It’s about Bucky and his two baby girls coming together for some family time around Halloween, and meeting the reader, and it’s really cute. not gonna lie, I felt really bad for Becky because it must be so hard for him with two girls, and piper with a little bit of a butt haha. I’m really excited to see where this one goes. Hopefully the reader can help out with those handfuls. 

Best Ever by @suz-123

OK, so this is one of the two on here that aren’t single parent stories, but they were just too good not to include. Alright, let’s talk about something that absolutely melted my heart. that is, Bucky being so excited about his baby’s birthday. Oh my God, I about died I think one of the things I loved a lot about this one was the fact that it was just so in character for everybody mentioned, and the whole family feel it gave for the avengers and what not,was just so cute. I love the domesticity.  

Coming home by @hootyhoobuckaroo

OK so this is the second one that’s not really a single dad Bucky story. But I’m including it anyway because it’s really good, OK so this one is just like fantastic in terms of story writing, you really feel like you’re right there, right in the action, experiencing everything as they’re experiencing it themselves. It’s just really good, and the protective part of Bucky as a dad is absolutely wonderful to see.

Baby blues by @papi-chulo-bucky

Eleven months after a one night stand, Bucky is faced with raising his daughter and things are getting tough. That is, until he meets you, his extremely introverted neighbor. OHHH the neighbor AU, I love it, this one was so detailed and wonderful and just really well written and so cute. I highly recommend.

I hope you guys like these! :)

[nobodyeverasked]

00:00; mark tuan

(6293 words) - large

summary - there’s one small second where the world holds its breath. In that second, you feel okay.

Y/N tried to withstand the symphonies of the sunlight lulling him to sleep as he pinched himself through his sweatshirt sleeve and squinted at the projector ahead of him, really debating why he took Art History for the third year in a row despite how much he hated it. He needed the credit for his internship program in the summer, but he didn’t know he was going to have to withstand this kind of torment. 

He let his sighs dissolve into the pages of his textbooks which piled up his heavy eyes and tried to focus on the man gesturing enthusiastically at a black and white picture of a historic art figure Y/N swore he saw two slides ago. Professor Cross was a tall, gaunt man with nothing in his wardrobe other than those sweater vests that were so washed out of their colour Y/N almost sympathised with them. They looked like they were tired of his lessons too; the threads bouncing around his writhing arms looking like they wanted to rip themselves off and hide away in the nearest washing machine. Y/N thanked them for staying on, though, he ran out of eyebleach when he had to sit through an entire presentation by the junkies behind him on why erotica is the pinnacle of artistry and how modern interpretation and segregational stigmatism is the bane of humanity.

Don’t worry, Y/N didn’t stay awake for that one either.

He almost gave into the sleepiness that pulled at his eyes and weighed down his shoulders until a head leaned onto his, and heard a dramatic huff he knew all too well. He combed those famous brown and blonde box-braids out of his face and turned to face the one person in this entire college he didn’t entirely dislike. Gloria Antoine. One of the only people that was there to dash to his front door and cook some month-old ramen from the back of his pantry and be there to hear his rants that seemed to only surface under the veil of the moonlight. 

“Remind me why this is important…?” Gloria groaned and Y/N struggled to hide a chuckle in his sleeves. “I’m like, I get it, but why…?”

“You don’t find Cezanne’s works transcendent?” Y/N poked Gloria’s cheek before she lifted her head off his shoulder. “I wonder if Mcdonalds is still hiring?”

Gloria stifled a cackle and they both looked forward to the screen, letting the whispers of their laughter flutter around them and fuel the flames that lay smouldered under his fingertips. Y/N turned his hand over, the memories of the night prior still ingrained in his mind, still blessing every beat of his heart that pounded at the thought of the guy that made every second they spent together - in and out of each other’s arms - so special. Mark Tuan. He remembers the knot of devotion tied between them as they laid back on the hood of Mark’s mustang and looked at the canopies of ivory stars that gleaned like spotlights and spilled on their skin. He remembers Mark taking his lips with his own and the cold metal under them rendering itself useless. Mark was the arms of sanctuary that wound around his waist and would never let go. The feeling of safety and freedom, the moments that made Y/N feel like a bird soaring through a cloudless heaven.

 Mark was his everything, the vows of affection that tumbled out of them on their lazy Fridays, the sheets between them that scorched their bodies and drowned them in the waves of their own admiration. He was almost too good to be true sometimes. He sometimes felt so unworthy to feel the heat under Mark’s fingertips, to be scorched by the skin that runs so sweet under his tongue, like the stars under Mark’s skin always shone too bright, were always too beautiful for Y/N’s skies whenever they aligned.

Even so, he couldn’t wait for the bell to sound so he could fall into Mark’s embrace, drown himself in the haze of coffee and cherries that always reminds him of the clementine skies they shared on rooftops together, brings him back to when they had the golden sunlight carve out their leather-studded kisses in the sands.

Their nights draped in the Shanghai moonlight are all just a blur now, blissful memories that hang on the edge of their tongues-

The bell sent Y/N careening out of his trance and up to the students that scrambled for the exit, hoping to escape the clutches of black coffee are boredom that swelled in the room like pungent stench. He could hear Gloria whoop before jumping out of her seat and tossing her back over her shoulder, barely able to contain her excitement for the fact that this lesson was finally over. She tugged at Y/N’s arm, gesturing her head to the door and Y/N followed her out, the stiff smile he held out to Professor instantly falling off his face as he stepped through the doorway like a breath he didn't know he was holding.

He followed Gloria to her locker where her friends waited there expectantly, tapping away at their phones to distract themselves from the concept of socialization. Abbey - the blond one…? He didn’t remember - greeted Gloria with a hug and an avalanche of words came tumbling from their lips, frantic chatter taking over their small circle. Y/N just leaned onto the lockers behind them, taking in all of the latest ‘tea’ Abbey had to spill, wishing he could take in the melodies of his midnight conversations with Mark instead. Gloria snatched him down from the clouds of euphoria that began to swallow him up and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, bringing him back into the circle and turning him towards a new girl that he somehow didn’t notice stepping into their conversation. The shy hunch in her shoulders and the demure shimmers in her hazel eyes danced in the amber sunlight contorting to the busting chatter going on around them.

Was she Abbey…? Or was she Britney…? He didn’t remember, and he genuinely didn’t know if he wanted to care.

“Hey Y/N, this is Stella, she’s new here and I met her in my Bio class.” Gloria gestured towards the girl whose eyes were taken over with a flourish of confidence as she heard Y/N’s name.

“This is Y/N?” Stella’s smile was weirdly wide and brilliant. Y/N just smiled back awkwardly, Gloria’s arm that comfortingly wound around his shoulders failing to shed the shivers of awkwardness that slithered down his spine. “You’re the one that’s dating Mark, right?” Stella stepped closer, he could see the brilliance of admiration shine in her eyes, light up her smile. The same light which ignited every one of Mark’s laughs as they swayed in their living room,  the light that wound around them and dyed their most cherished memories, the light that was caught between their lips as they sealed their kisses in their indigo night. “Oh my God, Mark Tuan… I’m sad he transferred schools, he’s so hot.” Gloria could feel Y/N tense up and opened her mouth to cut in, but Y/N stopped her with a shrug.

“Yeah, he’s pretty amazing.”

“I know we just met, but I’m gonna be honest with you Y/N. Just for the one-time.” Stella building up her statement didn’t help the blissful toxins that bloomed under the violet tapestries of Mark’s admiration adorning Y/N’s chest from running bitter like as and stinging with regret. “I have no idea how you copped that. You’re lucky as hell.”

“Well, Mark’s pretty lucky too, Stella. Y/N can actually stay awake in art history.”

“Thanks Gloria…” Y/N shook his head. Gloria was always there to be his hype-woman when he needed her. “It’s not that impossible, right?” He turned back to Stella, trying not to let the doubts that boiled in his stomach and spilled out in smokescreens in his mind leech into his resolve too much. Y/N forced down a frown, trying not to snarl in the face of Stella’s unyielding persistence to make his kisses on mark’s skin feel paper thin, feel stone cold, like the paradise in his hands that Mark said was always there was nothing but a mirage.

“I mean-”

Gloria slammed her locker closed with a nudge of her knee and whipped her head towards Stella. “Thanks for the Ted Talk, Stella, but Y/N and I need to get going. I’ll see you girls tomorrow.” She didn’t pull back the punch of her glare into Stella’s hazel eyes as she nudged Y/N around the corner, taking his hand and escaping the estrogen-fest that did nothing but beat Y/N down. “I’m sorry, Y/N. We were vibing in Bio, I don’t know what happened.” Gloria shifted her gaze over to Y/N, his resolve crumbling in one defeated sigh. Y/N tried to focus on the clicking of Gloria’s heels against the white tile floors of the hallway before pushing his words past his teeth.

“It’s okay, Gloria.” He tried not to let her words bite too deep into his skin, to keep the stars under his skin that would always wait to align with Mark’s from fading in the whirlwinds of Stella’s words that kept Y/N with his fist clenched in his pocket and the hold on his textbook tightened to his chest. “How did I get a man like Mark? He’s literally everything, and I’m just a guy with a seventy average and a dream laid to waste..” Y/N stopped walking, gaze trained to the shine in the freshly waxed floors and the reflection of his eyes that held too many questions and not enough answers. Gloria froze where she stood and snapped her head to her best friend, someone usually so confident, so in love with themselves in others, now his voice was barely above a whisper fading in their breaths that echoed in their silence. She grabbed his shoulders, and brought his gaze up to hers, looking at him with a wildfire of determination lapping at her dark brown eyes.

“Hey, I know it’s been hard cause everyone seems to have a hard-on for comparing you two just because you’re dating, which sucks. Stella sucks. But you’re the best and you deserve to know it, okay? He’s so lucky to have you, because you’re so dedicated to him and me and us and you, and you’re so loyal. You’re beautiful, okay? You’re beautiful and talented and amazing.” Neveah took an exaggerated breath, a smile beginning to frame her lips as Y/N’s chuckles resonated between them. “Don’t-”

“Ah! Y/N! I’m glad you’re still here!” Y/N and Gloria turned their heads to the monotone voice they’ve grown to fear. It was Professor Cross, walking up to them and waving his arm above his head. 

“Can’t catch a break, huh?” Gloria and Y/N let their laughter fade into the evening air. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, and coffees on me.”

“Six shots of espresso or I’m suing.”

“Your wish is my command, Y/N.” Gloria wrapped him up in a hug before scampering towards the exit.

“Y/N!” Professor Cross called again despite their distance. Y/N tried not to scrunch his nose as he could smell the coffee and disappointment in his Professor’s breath, wedging his teeth into his lip as he suspected the hundreds of things that this could be about. He knows that he’s been falling behind, the worries and stress that riddled his mind like a plague and withered his willpower leaving him to stare at his essays with nothing but doubt, nothing but his knowing that he’ll never be smart like Mark. His favourite moments with Mark were when that didn’t matter, when knowing complex historical milestones or bisecting segments on invisible squares never came spilling from their lips like their vows of affection did. “We need to talk about your marks in my class…”

“I-I know, Professor Cross, I’m in a slump right now but the summative will bring my mark up, I’ve been working on a piece-”

“I know, I know, but I didn’t expect you to hit a slump, Y/N. You’re one of the most enthusiastic students in my class. Granted, it���s art history, that’s not saying a lot, but I was surprised when I got the numbers for your last few tests. You know, I thought Mark would have a better influence on you, after all. He was always first in my classes.” Professor Cross tried to joke around, tried to bring some hollow laughter into the stale air trudging between them, but he knew he took it too far. He could see the fluorescent lights above chipping away at Y/N’s resolve, the hands clutching his anthro textbook gripping onto the spine. Y/N’s gaze shifted to everywhere except on the professor, deep breaths drying his throat and weakening his forced smile.

“I know, Mark’s smart, he used to be the top in the class, he’s been making art, fixing cars and changing the world, I know…” Y/N tried to wring the sweat out from his hands, doing his best to not let the sunlight streaming from the classroom windows to scratch into his skin too much. “I know, he’s the best, I know…” Y/N only shied away as Mr. Cross took a step closer. “I’ll get my grades up, I promise, I’ll try hard.”

“Y/N-”

“Have a good night, Professor…” Y/N could barely raise his gaze up from the ground, the weight of his professor's words dragging down on his shoulders and keeping his breath lodged into his throat. He turned away without a second thought and barely spared a glance towards his Art History professor before whipping himself around the corner of the nearest doorway. He needed to escape, he needed to escape from the spotlight that burned into his head and constantly sung his inadequacies into his ears  whenever he let his mind wander. This was no swansong that so easily fell from between Mark’s lips, and this light was not the ivory whisper of the starlight that would alway drape over their entwined fingers. 

He tried not to let his inner thoughts consume him as he made it to the main gates, the smokescreen of his doubts boiling, bubbling under the breath he finally let out as the amber sunlight followed in his footsteps to the main courtyard of the campus.

*

Mark leaned against the side of his car, playing with the edge of his sleeve as he waited for Y/N in the front of the parking lot, bathing in the amber sunlight streaming from the golden sky. It’s been a few months of this routine, picking Y/N up and heading home to bask in the fires of their admiration together, and Mark could not get enough of it. Seeing Y/N’s tired smile bloom as they sat next to each other in the front, the lazy kisses and intertwined fingers making them grateful his windows were tinted. Mark couldn’t get enough of it, he wanted more, just to take Y/N in and all of the wonder that spilled out from between those beautiful lips - heaven’s gates - the edge that their secrets used to tremble on and now free fall into the oceans of their trust, their love.

He couldn’t help but beam as he saw Y/N finally scamper out of the entrance to his design college, but he didn’t notice Y/N’s shifting gaze and the dejection weighing on his shoulders. Mark only focused his gaze on Y/N’s eyes that seemed to sparkle in the gilded sunlight and his skin that glowed under the golden skies, his lips that always wrenched his gaze on them and reminded them of how sweet they tasted under his tongue and between his teeth. The stories they told, they could go on and on and he could spend hours listening to what they had to say. That head of hair still singed by his wandering hands and burning touch where he could bury his worries, and revel in the softness that he tangled between his fingers. Those shoulders he would wrap his arms around and feel the tides of their cherry chapstick crash on the shores of their adoration, the shores like those beaches they burned black with the circles they danced in the sands. 

“Hey, baby.” Mark wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist and kissed the top of his head, lips trailing down to his cheeks and waiting, longing to paint his skin in tapestries of their compassion. Y/N just hid his face in Mark’s hands, eyes taking sudden interest in the pebbles on the concrete. “How were classes today?” Mark cradled Y/N’s cheeks between his hands and kissed his lips, his smile slowly fading as the one that shone behind Y/N’s pressed lips didn’t budge. “What happened? Did Mrs. Fletching go on about why colour theory is JUST A THEORY, A COLOUR THEORY!” 

Mark nudged Y/N’s chin up and pecked his lips, unknowing of the judging stares and jealous glares that dug into Y/N’s back and ripped out his spine Mortal Kombat style.

“Something like that…'' Y/N’s lips finally budged with a shrivelled whine, his head leaning onto Mark’s chest, hoping that his leather jacket and beautiful hands could hide him from his own shame and the girls that he knew were whispering about him by the library entrance. Y/N’s smile always sweetened the sparks that ignited between their teeth, and Mark wants to get that blissful glow under Y/N’s cheeks again. “Can we just head home?”

“Of course baby.” Mark opened the door for Y/N and then wound around the front to head in himself. “Do you want to talk about what happened? I really like your smile and…” Mark paused, trying to choose his words carefully so the heavy silence practically crushing the car could feel just a bit lighter. “I haven’t been seeing it a lot nowadays, you know I’d do anything to see you smile.” Mark caressed Y/N’s cheek, seeing a weak smile spread across his baby’s lips made him feel a tiny bit better, at least the words spun like silk from his lips could always make Y/N feel safe. He meant every word and wanted Y/N to know that.

“Maybe later? I just wanna get out of these tight-ass jeans and sleep…” Y/N shrunk back in the seat, with Mark’s touch melting from his cheeks and smoothing across his hands, the demons thrashing about in the pits of his stomach made and making him question his worthiness of such a man. A man who smiles in Y/N’s adversity… 

I don’t deserve him, Y/N thought as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed home.

*

Y/N sat on the couch, doodling on his tablet, one of Mark’s many sweatshirts that found their way into his closet on his body. Mark couldn’t resist the way Y/N looked in his clothes, the scent of coconut and lavender staining all of his shirts and the admiration that dripped down their necks in the nights under the moon drenching the collar of everything he put on. It was the smell of home to him, the touch of home to him, the feeling of home to him. Y/N’s fingers between his, the coffee flavoured kisses starting every one of their slow mornings. He shuffled over from the other side of the couch, raising to his knees to tower of Y/N’s huddled form and looked to the tablet to see what masterpiece he was conjuring on that screen this time. He played with Y/N’s hair, kissing his forehead and stroking his arms before scrunching his nose at Y/N’s focus on the brilliant screen between his hands.

“Y/N~” Mark kissed Y/N’s nose, earning the cutest little squeal he has ever heard in his life. “What d’you want for dinner…?” Mark straddled Y/N’s legs, playing with the hand that wasn’t vigorously scribbling on the screen with his stylus. Y/N leaned forward - eyes finally off that screen - to press his forehead to Mark’s. His big baby. Sometimes, in moments like these with the evening sunlight draped over their shoulders and the gleam of their smiles taken between their lips, he feels like he deserves this. Sometimes he deserves Mark, the most caring, affectionate, optimistic and beautiful man he’s ever met. But it just takes one day, one thing, one word to break that all down, to tell him he’s not worth him, not worth anything. The sting of his classmates’ glares still burned into his skull, etched themselves into his memories every time he and Mark kissed. 

Maybe they were right - he thought. Maybe… 

“Uhm~” Y/N sang into Mark’s skin, the fingers tracing the lines in his palm and the body inching itself between his thighs breaking his melody a little. His heart burned for Mark, longed for him, but did he deserve a man like that to fester the flames? To ignite the weathered stars under his skin? Sometimes when he ran his hand through Mark’s hair or listened to the symphonies of his precious heartbeats on the nights that used to leave him sleepless, he could feel his skin burn. Not with the sparks that writhe between their sweat-soaked chests, but with a toxin of those doubts that leech into every hesitant kiss he plants. “How about pizza?”

“Sounds good to me.” “You wanna come?”

“I think I’ll stay here, gotta get some stuff ready.”

“My hero.” “Turning on netflix and everything.”

“I know, superman was found jobless.”

“You’re everything superman wishes he was.” Mark headed to the door with a parting kiss Y/N wanted to last forever, until the sunset bled black. “And so much more~”

“I don’t deserve you.” Y/N widened his eyes as he realized what tripped over his tongue, he hoped Mark didn’t read into that too much. 

“You deserve the world, baby.” Mark hummed into the coffee-stained air of their house before slipping out the door, making sure to send a wink Y/N’s way. The scarlet in Y/N’s cheeks bit into his skin. He wanted it to feel good, the way Mark’s sweet nothings made his cheeks burn like wildfire. But so many voices in his head, Stella, Professor Cross, that one teacher that constantly calls him Mark’s boyfriend. They all started screaming, voices in his head that tore the feeling of Mark’s lips from his skin. 

As the door shut and Y/N sighed into the haze of silence settling in the house, he just let the voices twist and echo in his head and rip into his heart. He let them stifle the flames stoked between the symphonies of their twilight, he let them wash away the footprints in strawberry sands and make the coral sunlight that melts on their skin on those summer nights they’ll always cherish submerge him in pools of guilt.

“I don’t deserve you…”

*

Mark stumbled through the front door, kicking off his shoes with a stagger and proceeding into the surprisingly dark house. Pizza boxes in one hand, house keys in the other, he stalked into the kitchen with a cocked eyebrow. He presumed Y/N may have been napping, but he knows Y/N hates having all the lights off. Mark learned his mistake the last time they did that during one of their many journeys to thwart the waning moonlight together, Y/N in Mark’s arms as they tried their best to keep their eyes on a horror movie Mark said would be ‘just fine~’. He could still remember the popcorn they had to clean off their carpet and the nails that dug into his arms. Neither of them slept that night, but at least they had their midnight conversations and entwined grins to help ignite the starlight between them and ease the nerves that rumbled through their nervous laughter.

He sighed at the memory, still feeling the cinders of their admiration staining his fingertips as he dusted off his hands and walked towards the bedroom - going to retrieve Y/N from whatever blanket cocoon he was probably in -  but instantly halted when he heard sobbing scratch at the bathroom door. Desperate and fragile sobs freezing Mark in his place. He scrambled to the sound and rushed towards the bathroom, pressing his ear up against the door.

“Y/N?” Mark didn’t hide the panic beating senseless at his throat or the stress that fested under his shaking hands. He remembered Y/N’s silence, the hollow light of his weak smiles. He remembers how Y/N’s gaze always fell to the floor and how the kisses to his fingers as of late weren’t moulded by the grin he loves to see. Why couldn’t he see this before? 

He kept his forehead on the door, wincing as the sobs and whines from behind it instantly stopped as Mark called out Y/N’s name again. “Y/N… What’s wrong? Can I come in?” Mark didn’t know how to handle this… The stench of grief that oozed from under the door and rose to his ankles. He didn’t hear an answer, but pushed past the silence and saw Y/N in the corner, knees hugged to his chest. Y/N’s head snapped up to the sound of footsteps and let a gasp rip through his sobs as he clambered to his feet.

Mark put his hands on Y/N’s shoulders, stopping him in his place before he could escape. 

“Y/N…” 

He didn’t like this, seeing the tears rolling down Y/N’s cheeks, staining his hands and carving rivers into his skin. He sat Y/N back down onto the floor wrapping his arms around Y/N without a second thought. “What happened?”

“I...I…” Y/N tried to choke out some sort of excuse for why he was feeling this way, battling through the smoke and breaking the mirrors that housed a reflection he despised. He brought his knees closer to him, his efforts to wipe away the onslaught of tears staining his sweatshirt stopped by Mark, who took Y/N’s hands into his own and kissed his knuckles softly, his face contorted with confusion and worry. “I really don’t deserve you… The more I thought about it, what everyone’s been saying, the truer it seems.”

“Y/N- what are you talking about? You-”

“You’re the most beautiful, empathetic, loving man I have ever met. You can do anything you set your mind to and even when I decide to let my thoughts take over and consume me, you’re still there to hug me and kiss me and hold me even when I ignore you or dismiss you. Everyone is so right… You’re too good for me, your everything is too good for me, Mark. I-”

“Stop!” Mark shook his head violently, taking Y/N’s face in his hands and standing him up. “What are you talking about? Who’s making you feel this way?” Mark’s voice was barely above a whisper as he brought Y/N away from the corner, wiping his tears as he waited for an answer. Something. 

Even with Y/N’s face between his hands, his eyes still looked everywhere but him, Mark couldn’t stand it. Y/N was hurt, someone was hurting him, and he wasn’t telling him who it was! “Please, Y/N tell me, who-”

“ME!” Y/N tried to push himself away. “I… I don’t have a reason, but every day I look at you, I realize how worthless I am, how I could never do anything you do, and yet you come home or pick me up and you take me in your arms and tell me that I’m perfect…” 

The girls in the wallways...

“Every day I start to hate myself more and more because of who I am, what I look like, what I do or what I CAN’T do… And no matter who tells me to get over it, or that it’s just in my head, doesn’t understand that I can’t stop it!” 

Stella… Professor Cross… Everyone… Everything!

“I don’t know what to do, Mark… I love you more than anything. But I don’t deserve you… I don’t deserve your smile, or your love or your compassion because I’m ME! I’m a failure, I’m just another guy who’s trying to make his dying dreams a reality. I’m a guy who thinks he has everything down pat until the test comes up and I fail again, I’m the guy who lies about his problems ‘cause I’m always told they don’t matter. I’m just a commendable, malleable second choice for everyone around me and I don’t know how to stop it!” Y/N’s sobs ripped through from between his teeth, hitched breaths boiling in his throat as he hit his head against Mark’s shoulder. His cries took up the silence in a cacophony of sadness and anguish, and the light in his eyes that Mark could embrace himself in for hours died out like the withering flames of whatever confidence he had left. 

“Y/N…” Mark pulled Y/N into his embrace, hoping that his kisses to Y/N’s neck could straighten his frown or stop the chills of his cries from biting so deep. “I didn’t know you were feeling this way… I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice and I’m so sorry I let these thoughts get the better of you. They’re not true, not a single one.” 

“It’s not your fault, Mark… It never was, please don’t blame yourself.”

“We’re each other’s responsibility, right Y/N?” Mark angled Y/N’s chin and fixed their gazes, trying to take solace in the fading galaxies that embraced his boyfriend’s teary-eyed gaze, the stars that light his nights ablaze.

Mark pulled Y/N forward and turned him towards the mirror, wrapping his arms around his waist and setting his chin on Y/N’s shoulder. With a shaky breath, he entwined their fingers and pointed towards the mirror, leaving Y/N to cock his head their reflections. “You know what I see?” Mark kissed Y/N’s neck, feeling the fires of their adoration start to dance under his skin with every second Y/N spent in Mark’s embrace. “I see the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid my eyes on-”

“But-”

Mark stifled Y/N protests and let his tongue take their place, looking at Y/N with so much purpose, so much love. Even now, when the flames between their skin are just tiny sparks, even when the sunsets in their skies are pale with their cries and the tears drenching their hands and cheeks dwindle the lights in their eyes. Mark’s admiration never wavers, will never waver even if anybody wants to tell Y/N otherwise.

“You know what I see…?” Mark nudged Y/N’s nose with his, the small chuckle he earned from between Y/N’s lips made his hopeful smile that much brighter. “A gorgeous, compassionate individual, who is also an amazing artist and the best boyfriend a guy like me could ever ask for. You will never be a failure, Y/N, the mistakes you make now will only help you become an even more perfect guy if that’s possible. I know it’s hard to realize, especially now babe, but what those people down the hall or up the creek or whatever say, shouldn’t matter. They’re the same people that will marvel at every single thing you’ll create through those beautiful, beautiful hands. I can’t completely understand what you’re going through, but I’m here to stand with you, I’m here to help you respect yourself because you deserve it, Y/N. It’s hard to hear the love when the hate speaks so loud, I know… What others say though, shouldn’t affect you like this, they aren’t you, they don’t know what your can do or what your precious, pure heart is capable of. I know you love me so much. I know that. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you, with the weird looks we used to get in public or those people that don’t know what love is or how free it should be. But when I drop by to pick you up or come home and see that smile and hear your beautiful voice, it helps me believe. It helps me believe that I’m worthy to wake up next to you or to see you embody the moonlight you hold in your hands.” Mark took a breath, looking up into the mirror to see Y/N’s teary-eyed gaze and a smile as brilliant as the sheets of starlight that drape around their shoulders on the nights they’ll never forget. 

Y/N whipped around and threw his arms around Mark, the arms instantly tightening around his waist and the lips ghosting his ear leaving Y/N’s sobs as nothing more than shrivelling whispers behind Y/N’s grin. The flames of their admiration that lapped at their hearts in delicate flames burst under their fingertips and spiralled between their breaths. Mark pressed his forehead to Y/N’s, the sweetness of Y/N’s skin that ran under his lips like velvet and the light of his smile that made the sun look like a shadow made his chest swell in happiness. The wildfires embracing them and their hearts lifting the haze that choked out their sobs and letting their breaths of ease mould the soft kisses Mark traced Y/N’s cheeks with.

“I love you, Y/N. You mean so much to me… I just want to show you how special you are, not just to me, but to yourself too…” Mark’s breath was caught in his throat as Y/N entwined their lips with a flourish, tongues caressing lips that curled into grins as soon as Mark’s back hit the wall. Tear stained breaths burned up in cinders to reveal languishing sighs, the streams of sunlight now stained with their quiet laughter and the ruby red that painted their kisses.

“I… I don’t know what to say…” Y/N held the hands that cupped his cheeks and pressed them to his chest, kissing Mark’s knuckles as their giggles ignited the dreary darkness of their bathroom. “I didn’t expect all of that, thank you, Mark. I love you more than anything and you mean the world to me. I’m sorry-”

“No apologizing!” Mark freed his hands and messed with Y/N’s hair, scrunching his nose and burying his kisses into the hair he would knead through as the summer rain sang it’s melodies at their window, or when the glow of the clementine skies of their autumn evenings finished carving out the ripples of their sheets and ran weathered between their restless hands. He draped his arms around Y/N’s waist, looking down to his pout he couldn’t help but kiss away with a blissful, lovestruck grin plastered onto his face. Y/N just leaned onto Mark’s chest, breathing out into the symphonies of silence that surrounded them and the violet evening that began to bloom above the rooftop of their house. 

They enjoyed the silence that draped over them like the ashen sheets just two doors over that housed their safest sounds, the amber sunlight stepping through the door and painting their grins gold like the honey that embraced their most cherished memories. 

“Now, I, as your amazing, loving boyfriend brought home pizza that’s probably freezing cold by now. Would you care to accompany me on my journey to the microwave?” Mark let his stray fingertips prod at Y/N’s waistband, failing to hide his smile as playful shrieks soaked into his neck - music to his ears.

Y/N just remembered why Mark went out in the first place, making him wince into Mark’s skin. He hummed at Mark’s proposal. 

“Microwaved pizza… How romantic…” Y/N followed Mark out of the bathroom, tightening the knot of devotion that burned between their interlaced fingers, their giggles spinning into the gold that dripped from their smiles. The sweetness of the air following them out into their hallway that surrounded all of their midnight walks down the block shoving their heads under the reckless waves of their ocean.

“I’m honoured, my beloved.” Mark playfully nudged Y/N towards the wall, pressing him up on it and taking his skin between his lips. “I love you, baby…”

Y/N looked into Mark’s eyes, auburn gemstones of untainted beauty. The one place he could truly see himself - suspended in Mark’s star-studded gaze. Mark was the flowered path of happiness and acceptance he longed for every day the full moon peeked out to talk with him on his lonely nights. He did deserve this, he thought. He deserved to savour the air that stings with the sunlight they stir every morning, the fingers that tangle in his hair and worship him like a treasure, the ivory spotlight that hangs over their dancing tongues, the desire stuck between their teeth and dripping from garnet lips. Maybe he did. 

As he cradled Mark’s cheeks with hands scorched by the beautiful novas that burned between their lips, they let the blissful silence ignite between them and allowed their fingers to wander across skin they were blessed to memorize every inch of under the spotlight of the stars.

“I know, Mark. And I’ll never forget it.”

“You better not.”

[girlofmanyfandoms]

The Angel and The Siren

A/n: Based off of anon prompt that I’ll post separately so y’all can see that! Ily anon, that prompt was just *chef’s kiss*. Also I got a lotta stuff to do, so idk if this is good or not (it’s not)-

Word count: 2000

Warnings: idk mate, executive dysfunction kicked in and this happened

Writing taglist: @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @bookwyrminspiration @holesinmyfalseconfidence @percabetn @an-absolute-travesty  @linhamon-roll @holesinmyfalseconfidence @linhamon2 @a-lonely-tatertot @loverofallthingssmart @vibing-in-the-void @clearlykeefitz

Linh dozed off to the side before jolting back to life. Marella shot her a concerned look, but she waved it off to the side. She had to fight through this. Sophie’s lips were moving, but all she heard was the distant calls of the wind mixing with the cries of dawn. Off in the distance, she saw a flareodon glide from the forest to the ocean, it’s beak gracing the water just enough to cause a beautiful rippling effect. Yet still, the colors blended and blended together, the world nothing but a watercolor painting fading away.

“Linh!” 

“I’m alive,” she blurted out. 

“Yeah, I almost couldn’t tell,” Tam muttered, grunting as he helped her up from her near-fall. “You nearly passed out.”

“I’m fine,” Linh reassured him, putting a great deal of her weight on her brother’s shoulder. “I just... need a breath of fresh air.”

“You should probably head home,” Tam suggested, though it was obvious he was restraining himself. “I’ll update you when I get there.” 

Linh had an amused look playing on her face. “Tam, I’ll be alright, I’m just tired. I’ll take a walk and see how I feel, okay?” 

“But-”

“I’ll go with her,” Marella offered eagerly. She flushed, and began to correct herself. “Just to make sure she’s safe.” 

Linh’s face lit up and she grabbed her hand, grinning from ear to ear. Her guardian angel had arrived. “We’ll be safe!” Marella called before dragging Linh out of the house and down the porch of the vacation home.

They drew closer together, Linh examining Marella’s features in full. Oh, she was an angel alright. Her eyes held a sort of fiery determination that dared anyone to approach her, yet showed the upmost sympathy for those who struggled like her. For those who were weak and beaten down before they were strong and built up. Sunlight cascaded onto her, making her blonde locks swirl through the air like flames from a newly made campfire, warming everyone around her. Like a halo. 

Marella blushed and glanced to the side. “Is there something on my face?” Linh shook her head and leaned on her a bit, pulling her into a side hug as they approached the shoreline of the tropical island hideout. “You just have a pretty one.”

Marella scoffed. “You’re talking?”

“Yeah, I am.” Linh waded into the water, letting the tides bring her underwater, just to the point where her face was above water level, hair floating around her like thin sheets of sea foam. She sat up slowly, and started swimming farther from shore, stopping to beckon Marella. Follow me, the gesture called. The beautiful siren waited patiently, a strand of hair in her face with her head at a slight tilt making her look both shy and innocent, and sly but deadly. The angel was entranced, so she kicked off her boots and followed without hesitation.  

When Marella got close enough, Linh held her by the waist, ordering the water to surround them like walls. She pulled Marella close and guided her in a sort of slow dance, letting the tides carry them. Linh’s movement were fluid, and Marella followed her lead, trying to focus on mimicking her movements rather than her heart threatening to explode in her chest. 

Deep breaths, she thought to herself. She’s just doing this to keep Tam and the others off her back. Linh hummed, resting her forehead on Marella’s shoulder. “I wish there was something we could do about this.”

Marella panicked. She couldn’t have meant what she thought, or rather hoped, she meant. “This meaning...”

She broke their link, bobbing up and down with the waves, gesturing around her in a vague, fragmented manner. “All of this. The Neverseen, the Treaty with the other Intelligent Species, my parents, the matchmaking system. Everything. I didn’t ask for this. I just wanted to live my life, just like everyone else. But now the adults are cowards and force a group of teenagers, two of which were banished from their society for years, to save the world. I just-” She paused, her voice cracking as she looked towards the sky to blink back tears. “I just want to be a kid. Is that too much to ask?”

Even Linh, with her sweet and innocent front, was breaking. She was crushed, and broken, and in pain, and it tore Marella’s heart into pieces. “I’m so sorry. I-if you don’t mind me asking, what was that like? Like, what happened before you got banished?”

“I was a kid,” Linh smiles sadly in reminiscence. “An unhappy one, but a kid nevertheless. But when I got to Exillium... I became a monster.”

“You’re no monster.” Marella frowned. “And didn’t the group say that they feared ‘The Shade’ because he was protecting ‘The Hydrokinetic’?”

She chuckled in response. “That’s what they wanted you to think. The others were scared of Tam, definitely, but not before they were scared of me, and not for the same reason.”

Marella raised her eyebrows, daring to swim a little closer and lean on her a bit. “Care to elaborate?”

“I guess it would help to let something out.” Linh bit her lip in thought. “And... if there’s anyone I would want to tell first, it’d be you.”

She breathed for a moment, her action syncing with the swells of the ocean. “I got banished a week after the floods. We were going to Councillor Terik to see if there was any potential that would ‘save us from our fate.’ Terik said that he wanted us to meet with Quinlin and Livvy first, to view our records and check if we had any medical issues. We also had to go shopping for clothes, makeup, accessories, anything to make the two of us look different, like we were born separately. But since we both manifested relatively young, and we hadn’t gotten into Foxfire yet, we couldn’t control ourselves.”

“And that’s when the flood happened?”

“No,” she laughed. “If it were that simple, we wouldn’t have been banished. No, what happened was a combination of neglect, stress, panic, and misfortune.”

“So...”

“So something wasn’t supposed to be there, and we freaked out, and our powers crashed together and ripped the barrier open even further than it was getting.”

“It was already breaking?” Marella asked.

“It was old,” Linh shrugged, though from the way she was examining her damp clothes for lint, it was clear that the siren had told a white lie. She crossed her arms and looked down, presumably in guilt and shame, though most likely to fight off the wisps of pain and trauma that clung to her with a vengeance, like a ghost of who she once was. 

The angel was conflicted, but decided to take up her own strategy. She extended her hand. “Let’s get farther away from here. See what the jungle has to offer.”

Linh hesitantly accepted it, the walls descending slowly, soon at peace with the rest of their surroundings. A pulsing of emotions ran through her, a symphony from a past life. It confused her, but despite the vapor clouding her mind, she was able to make one clear thought.

Her hands fit perfectly in mine. Linh shook her head vigorously to clear it of those irrational ideas. She’d learned the hard way what getting close to someone cost. “What are you thinking then?”

“You said you’re stressed, right? Like you can’t be free?”

She nodded, eyes narrowing.

“Let me show you what freedom looks like.” Marella let Linh guide the two of them to shore, releasing all of the water trapped in their clothes and hair back into the environment. Doing an awkward hop to get her boots back on, she raced into the jungle, using her momentum to launch herself onto the nearest tree, managing to get her arms around the lowest branch. She swung her body up and let one arm hold her, using her other hand to aid her in letting out an ear-piercing summoning whistle. 

In a moment, the flareodon that had been circling the island landed on Marella’s arm like a hawk. Marella waved Linh over as it preened. “See? He’s free to go wherever he likes and do whatever he likes when he wants to do it; he’s got no calls of the sea binding him to a workbench and no looming duties of the hearth to dedicate his life to. And what does that make him?”

“A freelancer.”

“Free, Linh. That’s the key word. He’s free. And you will be too. You just have to have faith.”

“I wish I had that.” She sunk down against the tree opposite to hers, fiddling with a ridiculously large leaf that had fallen from a nearby plant. “And maybe there is some for you. But I’m a twin, and a previously banished one at that, and my life will be dictated by some stupid matchmaker trying to match me up with a stupid ‘powerful’ man that I’ll never love!”

The flareodon was startled by the quick escalation of her volume and took off. Marella, however, drew closer. “Is there a reason you know that you’ll never love that man?”

Quit the wishful thinking Marella! But still, her heart held hope.

“It’s based purely off of genetics,” she whispered, her voice betraying her.

“Linh, come on, I know it’s something deeper,” Marella insisted, bringing the girl to her feet. She diverted her eyes, refusing to even look up. “Answer me, please.”

“You know, you’ve got a lot of fire in your soul, Mare,” Linh murmured. “It’s admirable. But I think back and I analyze and there’s not a single thing like that about me. All I do is pretend to be an innocent little girl just to drag people down with me. There’s nothing admirable about that.”

“Hey, no one talks about my Linh like that, got it?”

My Linh? their minds screamed in unison. On one end, Marella’s cringe scorched at the edges of her mind. On the other, Linh was drowning in the overwhelming feeling she never dared to feel. Hope. Yet again, in the distance, she heard the wind throwing itself upon the raging waves. Though they weren’t raging anymore. They were systematically crashing together, a docile beat not so foreign to her combining with the whistling of the tree leaves to form the melody she longed to sing all along. Home. This is it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”

Linh tossed her leaf to the side, standing up with newfound confidence. “You didn’t. You don’t have to apologize for anything. In fact, I should thank you.”

Marella laughed nervously. “There’s nothing to thank me for.” She looked around for a change of topic. “It’s getting late, you should head home. Tam said he’d check up on you, he’ll get worried if you’re not there.”

“Tam worries no matter what.” Linh shook it off. “And besides, I don’t want to go home alone. I like... being around you.”

“I like being around you too,” Marella flushed. She glanced to the side and picked up a fallen hibiscus that was still intact, quickly braiding it into Linh’s hair. “There. Now you can have a piece of me wherever you go.”

Linh smiled sweetly, pulling Marella’s collar towards her and pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I think I’d rather have all of you,” she breathed softly, before stepping back and holding her crystal up to the Sun.

“Thanks, babe!” she called, a smirk proving her pride as she stepped into the light.

Marella touched her cheek, in shock from the confession, as goosebumps travelled up her arms. Her other hand frantically searched her pockets for her leaping crystal. Biting her lip, she glanced to the side, having to squint as the sun began its journey to the other side of the world. Surely the crew wouldn’t mind if she slipped away too. Besides, there was something more important. The siren called. 

[noxtms]

JANUARY 31ST, 2021. the shock that kingsley shacklebolt’s abrupt resignation ( and subsequent statement ) caused throughout the community is only beginning to ebb when stately owls begin distributing the handsome black & gold invites to the inaugural gala. it was to be expected eventually, but anyone who’s curiosity strayed to the traditional event would have been forgiven for expecting a delay. the show must go on is the general feeling, and what a show it’ll be - only the FINEST symphony orchestra hired to play throughout the evening, and only the most expensive of foods imported to be served to highly esteemed guests ( and the ‘regular’ ministry workers, to boot ). it’s as much an evening to wine, dine & dance as it is an opportunity to rub shoulders with the wixen elite, and anyone who’s anyone - or who HOPES to be someone, someday - jumps at the opportunity to attend. you don’t really have to like the minister to like what the ministers contacts can get you. 

he’s destined to be a controversial figure, though none could have guessed that it would be MINISTER KARKAROFF’S own daughter who would attempt to steal the spotlight on his very special day. she pops her head in. smiles for some front page pictures for the daily prophet. and then mysteriously disappears. word has somehow spread about the BLOWOUT houseparty that she’s hosting at none other than the ministers own manor - and did you hear that rumour about the hobgoblins performing ? this event promises what the other simply can’t, which is, of course, more FUN than you can handle. 

WHO, WHAT, WHEN, WHERE :  

IN LONDON : the inaugural gala is being held at the ministry of magic, as per tradition, and the required invites are highly sought after. you mightn’t agree with the recent change to minister, and you mightn’t care for the new mans politics - but being a part of history ( especially when ‘history’ means attending a lavish event that is a rare commodity ) has always been rather exciting. black tie is expected, of course, and the formal wear requirement is certainly indicative of the sort of night in store for those in attendance, as a fine and fancy four course meal is expected to be served to guests before taliesin’s symphony orchestra takes up their assorted instruments and entertains for the night. a speech from the new minister over the course of the evening, neverending & expensive alcohol and the promise of some formal dancing... what isn’t there to love ?

ELSEWHERE : karkaroff manor - located in the heart of the midlands - is where all the cool kids ( and, you know, anyone who doesn’t work for the ministry or couldn’t / wouldn’t secure an invite to the event, there ) are heading. mikaela karkaroff, disgruntled child of the new minister, has truly outdone herself on this one ( though it’s difficult to say how she got word out to so many people )... and trust me when i tell you that a wix houseparty is TEN times more enjoyable than the muggle variety. okay, so she couldn’t secure the hobgoblins for the evening - but she got a WICKEDLY close tribute band, and given how loud they like to play their music, you really can’t tell the difference. the bottles of expensive alcohol reserved for few and far between guests will be gone within an hour, but there’s plenty to go around when it comes to cheaper substitutes, and wix drinking games like firewhiskey quodpot, fuzzy niffler and ride the knight bus ( with some muggleborns surely lobbying to just play never have i ever ) are SURE to brighten spirits all around. 

OUT OF CHARACTER :

once again, we’re holding two events in one - and as always, it’s entirely up to you which one your character/s choose to attend ! it was, of course, important to commemorate our new minister of magic, but it was incredibly unlikely that certain characters would find themselves in the midst of a fancy ministry do. rather than force their presence, the two options are the aforementioned fancy do, complete with live classical music, a four course meal and black tie requirements - and the house party that the new ministers daughter has chosen to throw at his home with cheap booze, loud music & a definite hope that some family heirlooms get utterly destroyed in the chaos. i mean... fun. 

the choice you make in regards to which event to throw your characters into dictates a little more than just which threads you’ll be replying to & engaging with during this time, and also means a different vibe for any outfits you might want to throw together ! of course, saying any more than this would be a spoiler, so... 

the event officially starts on monday the 1st of february at 12:00am GMT, 10:00am AEST & 12:00pm NZST and sunday the 31st at 5:00pm PST, 6:00pm MTN, 7:00pm CST, 8:00pm EST & 9:30pm NST ! ending time is tentatively the same times, a week on - i don’t mind extending based off of interest & involvement, though ! 

i’m not going to ask for a pause to be put onto old threads, since it’s still the start of the new year & i know it’s far harder to keep activity up just by focusing on new events. 

all event related starters can be tagged as nox.event011, but to make it easier for me reblogging things to the starter blog, please make sure to also tag either nox.inauguration or nox.houseparty, even if you tag locations ( ministry of magic for the inauguration celebrations, karkaroff manor for the house party ). 

if you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to message the main ! once you’ve read this post, please express heartfelt congratulations to minister karkaroff ! 

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/70230384

Chapter 45

Sometimes Morrie couldn't believe the deal he had agreed to. That Norbert could have everonye he wanted, only with a small exception. On the other hand, it was easing the tension in their everyday life, especially with the many 'guests' they had. He didn't have to keep an eye on Norbert anymore, who just did what he wanted and instead he could make time for his own fans, or some musicians from other bands and he could finally be completely distracted.

However, it was far away from the feeling he could have had if Norbert would have been his alone, if he could've trusted him in every situation. Sometimes, he caught himself wishing that Norbert refused the deal and instead never touched a fan again. But Morrie knew it wouldn't happen. He kept himself from asking what Norbert was doing with his new freedom. A deal was a deal, and he wanted to be true to his word.

Norbert's behaviour was irrational enough already. His Joy-escapades became wilder and he started to forget the most mundane things. Morrie felt more and more like a babysitter who was making sure that the great rockstar got out of bed in time, ate enough, remembered their gigs and whatnot. Soon, he couldn't make it through the day without someone taking care of him. And with everyone taking Joy now, Morrie was afraid he would end up being the babysitter for the entire band.

There was one last chance. One person he considered to be reasonable, even though his trust into that person was crumbling already. He didn't know better, Morrie told himself. The whole town is crazy about this stuff, so how could he know?

When the manager was working in his room, Morrie took the opportunity to ask him for help. Virgil let him in without hesitation. "Hello, Morrie. Is there a problem?" "I think so", Morrie answered, asking himself why Virgil didn't notice it himself. Didn't it bother him at all? On the other hand, he wasn't involved in all this as much as Morrie was, so someone needed to tell him what was going on.

Morrie sat down on the chair that Virgil offered him and began to explain: "It's that Joy...I know it's supposed to help, and, well, Nick doesn't have stage fright anymore, but it's changing him. He's more than just happy, no matter what the ads say. He's...a completely different person now. He's...." Morrie fell quiet. He wanted to say 'reckless', 'smug' and 'oblivious', but he was afraid to indicate that they had a relationship. "...binged up?", Virgil offered. "More than that..." Morrie sighed. "Sometimes I don't recognize him." "He's changed, that's true", Virgil agreed and Morrie felt a flicker of hope.

"I always had the feeling that he was holding back somehow. That he couldn't be the man he wanted to be and he was unhappy because of that." Morrie gulped. "Did you talk about it?" "No, I only guessed", Virgil said and Morrie began to feel uneasy. What else did Virgil observe in all these years? "What if that was just how Nick was?" "I think he wouldn' t have changed that much. Whatever depressed him, it's gone now. He's free." Morrie furrowed his brows. "Do you like him like this?" Virgil nodded. "Much better. Better than watching him struggle and knowing he'll have another breakdown." "But that stuff is addictive! He can't live a single day without it!", Morrie blurted out. "It's proven that Joy isn't addictive", Virgil assured him, but Morrie wasn't convinced. "What if that's wrong? I don't like where this is going. The others take Joy now too. I'm the only one who's still sane. I'm surrounded by freaks who don't know what they're doing!" Morrie paused to take a breath. He hadn't planned to throw a tantrum but that whole situation was all exasperating. Why did no one believe him?

"Morrie...", Virgil said after he had been pondering. "Could it be that you are unhappy too?" At that, Morrie had to keep himself from passing a snappy comment. Of course he was unhappy. But then again he had the feeling that his current rage wasn't what Virgil meant. "What do you mean?", he asked instead. "Well, perhaps you have other plans." Of course, Morrie thought, I had other plans than having a boyfriend who keeps betraying me and turns into a big baby right before my eyes with me unable to help. But once again, that was probably not what Virgil meant. Because Morrie didn't get it, Virgil went on: "Perhaps a rockband isn't what satisfies you." Morrie's heart skipped a beat. "You mean, I should..." "Don't rush it. Just think about it. You could start a solo career and I could help you."

Morrie's head was spinning. He had thought about realizing his own projects. Maybe writing a symphony. But until now, it had been nothing but daydreams. Being confronted with it like that was something else. He didn't want to leave the band. He didn't want to abandon Norbert. And he didn't feel alien in a rockband as long as everyone had their heads on straight. "Think about it. You wouldn't have to start with nothing. I'm your manager after all." He gave him an encouraging smile. "And...the Joy? Is there no other solution?", he tried again and Virgil held up his hands. "I don't know a better solution. Do you?" "I see...", Morrie said quietly and got up. "Thank you for the offer", he said half-heartedly. "Forget it if you want, but try to think about yourself for a change. Not only Nick." Morrie only nodded and then left.

If only it was that easy. 'Nick' wasn't able to think about himself anymore - at least not about what was good for him. Leaving the band was no option. Thinking about their conversation, one thing really bothered him. Had Norbert really been so unhappy with him that he fell into a depression and started taking Joy? Before Joy, Norbert hadn't betrayed him. Had it depressed him that much, that he wasn't allowed to betray him, that he went to pieces? What about all his talking of 'the love of his life'? Anyway, with the new 'free Nick' being the only one he had left, Morrie was afraid he was facing a very doubtful future.

Even Norbert noticed that the vibes around him changed. Every time the jolly effect ceased, he realized what was happening and he once again faced the abyss that was about to swallow him. It hurt to see the way Morrie looked at him. But considering everything his lover did for him, because his brain refused to work properly, he understood that Morrie had enough of him. He remembered the agreement that had saved their relationship and found that Morrie was rather gloomy since then. Norbert couldn't hold back when he was on Joy, and everytime he recalled what he was doing he felt ashamed. Other times he was angry that Morrie made him feel that way, because he felt he had the right to enjoy the fame he had been working hard to achieve.

Either way, he noticed that Morrie went colder. That he started to mock his new habits and his behaviour while he was too high to understand his remarks. His tenderness was gone. And he was more busy now, staying in his room for hours and writing songs he never played to anyone. Perhaps it was just his way to handle their situation. Still, it was one of the reasons why Norbert couldn't handle his life without Joy. Sometimes he was so afraid to wake up that he popped another pill after the first sign of withdrawal - duller colors, muffled sounds. When he tried to hang on until their next gig he anyway gave up after a few hours, because it was horrible to pretend that everything was okay and he didn't need Joy that much.

But not only Morrie bothered him. There were more quarrels in the band now. It couldn't be denied that Nick Lightbearer was turning into the band's most popular star and when the others started taking Joy, they tried to change that. So Norbert was subject to a sudden rivalry that began to dominate their everyday life. They fought for a bigger part in their shows, about who wrote wich song and who wrote the most hits and who had the best ideas for new songs. Norbert had the feeling they didn't grant him a single note anymore. They had always worked as a team. It was ridiculous to dismantle their songs like that. It made the already tedious sessions in the studio even more exhausting. Also on stage they kept fighting against each other.

Norbert was glad that their house was big enough so that he could avoid the others. It was one of these painful days when he sat alone in his room, because Morrie played busy again, and tried to endure Joy withdrawal. It was eerie to feel how everything around him changed, how also his thinking changed. He started to mourn for his love and his friendships and whished someone would stop their fall. After some dreadful moments of staring at his once colorful wall he was even too sad to take Joy. Suddenly it all felt right. He didn't move, only listened to his own breathing. Then he felt more and more helpless, as if his dark room would swallow him. Leaving it, he noticed that the corridor outside was just as dark. 'That architect screwed us over', he joked bitterly. He thought about the only friend he had left, the only one who wouldn't make fun of him or rebuke him. He needed his company now.

Virgil looked worried when he saw him. "Nick, what's wrong?" He must've looked horrible of course. "Can I come in?" All he wanted was to get in this room and lock the door behind him. Virgil approved, and so he let himself fall into one of his comfy chairs and decided to never stand up again. Then he stared at the floor, unable to speak. "You're off your Joy again, aren't you? Don't worry, I've made provisions. You'll feel better in no time," Virgil said and opened a drawer. Suddenly Norbert moved. "Oh, no, I have enough Joy." Virgil froze. "Did it stop working?" "No, no, it works just fine. Just like the first day", Norbert said gloomily. Virgil bent down to look at him, leaning on the armrests of the chair. "Nick, look at me." Norbert obeyed. Virgil also put a hand on his forehead.

"Are you in pain?" "No, I don't think so", Norbert answered vaguely. He guessed a heartache didn't count. "Can't I just stay here for a while? I won't disturb you if you're working." Virgil put his hand down. "Nicky, what's wrong? You can tell me everything, you know? Did you have another fight?" Norbert gave a deep sigh. "Everything is so complicated now...when I'm off Joy, I can see it...we're changing..." Virgil sat down next to him. "You're still learning", Virgil answered, "all this fame is new to you and you're just getting used to it." "It's not the band, it's...", Norbert began, then his eyes filled with tears. "It's about Morrie, he...", Norbert sobbed, then he fell quiet again. "He doesn't want to change with you?", Virgil guessed. Norbert hesitated to answer, struggling with himself, until he looked at his manager with wide eyes. "Can I tell you a secret?" Virgil locked gazes with him. "You can trust me. Whatever it is, it'll be just between us." Norbert smiled gratefully. It was the first smile off Joy for days.

Quietly, he said: "Morrie and I...we are in love...I mean, I don't know if he still loves me. Since I'm taking Joy, everything falls apart." Norbert paused because a crying fit choked him. "Whatever I do...it's wrong!", he went on sobbing. "I'm so afraid, Virgil! I don't want to lose him!" When he looked at Virgil, he saw no signs of disgust or taunt in his eyes. "I've noticed that you two are very close...", he only said. Norbert gulped. "I hope we are." "So, he doesn't like Joy, right?" "Yeah, he hates it! But it's his fault I'm even taking it!", he blurted out. "He never understood me! It's always been him or the band, I've tried to please all of them and he always left me alone with my problems! I just didn't know what to do anymore! I'm just not good enough! At least Joy helps me to forget it all, so I can play our shows!" When Norbert was shaken by another fit, his manager began to pat his back. It felt good. "Oh, Virgil, what am I to do?" "Start with being honest, Nick. Tell him what happened and what you feel. Only then, Morrie can understand you. And only then, you can find a solution." Norbert sobbed quietly, feeling Virgil's touch on him. He found it had been a good idea to come here.

"Actually, we have an agreement...", he went on. "No other men. But..." He ruffled his hair. "What if I fuck that up too? Most of the time I have no control over what I'm doing! I'm so afraid! When I fuck that up it's over! There's no second chance!" Another stream of tears choked him and Virgil's hand drew circles on his back, a soothing feeling. "Trust yourself, Nick. You're much stronger than you think." Norbert shook his head. "I do everything wrong." "No, that's not true...still, you should tell Morrie about your fear." "And what if I put him off? Because I don't know if I'll betray him or not? What if he breaks up because of that?", Norbert cried. "I can't lose him!" "Well..." Virgil sighed. "I'm sorry, but you have to leave that decision to him." Norbert uttered a wailing noise and huddled up. Virgil's hand was still there. "Nick...I'm sorry...Trust me that whatever happens, I'm still here to help you." "Oh, Virgil", Norbert sighed and pulled his manager into a hug. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Virgil engaged with the hug, patting Norbert's back. "It's gonna be okay, Nick..." When Norbert let go, he was calmer. "You can stay here, if you like. Can I offer you a drink?" Norbert nodded and gave another faint smile.

[haikyuu-matches]

@ my-me1ody 

hi lily ! it’s vy from quotev ^o^ finally set up a tumblr lol ~ this may be a little long ? anyway if it is you can just skim or delete the unnecessary parts haha. hope you’re doing well ~ and stay safe ^o^

general: female / she - her, heterosexual, aries sun&moon, libra rising, infp

personality: i’m pretty quiet to strangers ^^ and very polite. i’m the type to add “miss/mister” in front of names if the person seems older. pretty shy at first, i hate confrontation and try to avoid that haha. i can be really loud and talkative to my friends. i’m really critical of myself, but i tend to neglect the flaws of others and only look at the best. i usually out others’ interests in front of my own, which is a habit i’ve formed especially since i’m the eldest and only daughter of three. i’m pretty naive with little to no common sense, which is typical of a book-smart girl ^^’. i can be clumsy, i have butter fingers and trip a lot. i’m also really sensitive and i feel emotions in short bursts. i laugh really easily but i also cry very easily. when frustrated, i cry - scared, i cry - sad, i cry - disappointed, i cry. i’ve never cried due to happiness though, strangely. my motivation and ambitions are heavily reliant on my fear of disappointing others, usually my parents.

basic appearance: 151cm/39kg, black hair with blunt bangs past my waist, i’ve been told i look like a “vietnamese princess” type of girl. i definitely lean towards the cuter side vs pretty/hot side.

hobbies/interests: — reading, mostly romantic fiction ~ because i long for those kinds of things TT even though i’ve never had a true irl crush before lol.  — crocheting, i like making small stuffies. -— baking, i really, really suck it it. very much so, but i like to do it … haha

likes: — reading — anime/manga — cute things, i absolutely adore anything cute and/or fluffy/soft. just wanna squish. — food, i am an absolute foodie, and i can eat a l o t for my size ^o^. but i have a low tolerance for spice/sourness

dislikes: — scary things — criticism — false accusations

fears: — bugs/spiders, if it has multiple legs and or wings, i’m terrified. i nearly cried because a ladybug almost landed on me once, i have an irrational fear of bugs. — demons/paranormal, friggin scary, no other explanation needed. — heights, i tend to overthink things a lot, especially with things that can go wrong, since i lean towards pessimism for myself but optimism for others. — anything scary, i’m a huge coward. anything scary, i’m probably scared of it TT

fun facts: — i played the violin from age 4, but had no motivation due to constant criticism from my parents, so i’m pretty bad at it. i can do the bare minimum and get into local orchestras/symphonies. — i’m allergic to basically everything, including peanuts, grass, trees, and pollen. i developed immunity to some like milk, wheat, soy, and fish ^^. — i’m a speed reader, i can read 500 page novels in around 8 hours or less if i’m interested. —  i can cram-memorize something, but will forget it all shortly after.

thank you so much lily ! i hope you have a great day :)

✶⋆｡˚☆ﾟ✦

vy! you’re literally so precious; i hope you like your matchup !! (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

˚✶⋆｡˚☆ﾟ✦

i match you up with … 𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔 !!

i think you & oikawa would make such a cute match just because you’d balance him out & i think your overall demeanor definitely makes him attracted to you from the get go.

given that you’re more of a shy, book-smart girl, i feel oikawa woudn’t really know of your existence at first. but when he does end up interacting with you, he definitely gets that “dang. .  .who is she?” and the “why haven’t i seen her around before?” feeling. 

plus the fact you look like a vietnamese princess definitely makes him attracted to you, at least from a superficial standpoint. 

anyway, oikawa will definitely take in the little things that you do- he’ll notice how polite & considerate you are of others, how you are sensitive but in a good way wherein you have the biggest heart.

honestly, the people who are genuine & wear their hearts on their sleeves? that’s the kind of people oikawa would go for just because he doesn’t have to play mind games or guessing games with that kind of person. 

they make him soft, too?? 

and this coupled with the fact you like to see the good in people? mhm yeah- oikawa will definitely be content whenever he’s around you because for once, he won’t be overly smothered by fangirls or on the flip side, told that he has a shitty personality.

when it comes to you, he’ll feel an overwhelming urge to just hug you whenever you cry & wipe away your tears tenderly because he’s weak to your crying face. and if you were to cry because of him, he’d want it to be out of happiness.

in passing, oikawa also notices the way you look out for others & the fact you try your hardest to succeed, due to your fear of disappointing others.

he might try to persuade you to succeed for yourself and not be driven for the sake of others but that’s another topic of discussion. he honestly just wants you to be happy & i don’t think he’s the type to push his significant others too hard?? unless of course he thinks he’ll truly be helping them.

supportive oikawa?? for you, of course.

okay so … he’ll most likely seek you out because i get the vibes you wouldn’t be like his annoying fangirls or someone who would fault him for his passion for volleyball. in fact, you probably become his fan when you watch him play for the first time! just not in a crazy way.

anyway, i get the sense at the beginning stages of your interactions with him, you may be even indifferent of him?? especially at first! like, oikawa’s name is well known, however, you’re out here, studying & being a big brain ( like danng, you’re a speed reader. okay i see you! )  that you really never been apart of the oikawa hype train.

which means oikawa is even more interested in you. cliche trope i know but still.

oikawa is a bit childish & has a boyish charm about him, so he probably will lightly tease you for your clumsiness for your attention. it’s his way of showing affection to you. in all honesty, he can switch from being a little mean to you to absolutely lecturing you about how amazing you are when you’re being too critical of yourself. he’ll pout & comment how he doesn’t like how you treat yourself.

he knows you don’t like the criticism… but-

how can you not see what he sees?

you find that he’s both smart & dumb, kind & mean, mature & childish… and you wouldn’t have him any other way. you probably end up poking light-hearted fun at him as payback for him teasing you.

side note– he finds that your ambitions & interests are really cool. basically, you’re hella smart, play the violin, bake, and crochet?? he’ll be blown away by how cute your stuffies are & at the same time, he’s like “yeah that makes sense” because you’re cute yourself.

he probably shows off your talents & just how adorable you are to his teammates all the time to the point iwaizumi has to be like “shut up, we get it, your new girlfriend is amazing.” because his teammates are basically so, so envious & oikawa knows it.

on top of that, i can imagine oikawa absolutely brimming with happiness once you show him your talkative & loud side– he’ll feel so accomplished that you’d open up to him like that. he might have a smug face like “yeah i knew you’d open up”, but really he’s ecstatic.

once you guys become official, oikawa will be so affectionate with you?? like it’ll be a little embarrassing & perhaps overwhelming at first, but overall endearing. he’ll pull all the romantic fiction moves– from cute nicknames to late night convos to classic dates… but he can also have a chill, laid-back side in the sense he just wants to be with you & not everything has to be perfect. especially since you both get busy-

when you’re able to, you guys probably go out to eat a lot & take aesthetically pleasing foodie pictures & cute selfies & ah it’s just perfection.

in the end, i think you’d make a wholesome match & you guys end up making each other better by being together?? 

also you two are so photogenic, so people would be like “of course they’d be together- they look so good together”- 

possible runner-ups:

bokuto koutarou

hinata shouyou

˚✶⋆｡˚☆ﾟ✦

— lily ! ♡

[nisaadventures]

Hi Mom,

I think I’ve been avoiding you... But just like all emotions we try to avoid, they eventually find a way to meet the surface... Either that, or they break through with great force. 

I’m surrounded by the holidays. I’ve been watching all of the sappy holiday love movies on Netflix, which I’m sure you would love to binge watch on a Sunday with me while we eat popcorn...

I miss you... every single day...

It was weird going to the mausoleum on your birthday. I wonder if it will always feel like that... I’m sort of envious of the people who can go visit their loved ones, have full on conversations, and feel like they’re connecting in some way. Maybe one day? For now this is it...

One year, 2 months, and 17 days...

Sounds like such a long time when I lay it out like that... but it also sometimes feels like no time at all... Sometimes I wonder if my moments of happiness are simply denial. I feel the occasional grief guilt about being happy... I’ve been told that is common. 

Is not crying often a bad thing? 

Is it okay to feel happy?

Is the happiness some big cover up, band aid, to shield me from the sheer weight of my grief?

Am I packing on all these responsibilities and duties to keep me busy and help me avoid thinking about the pain?

I know, I know... This is a “normal” phenomenon that individuals experiencing grief may commonly feel...

I actually had a brief patch of what I think were nightmares... I say I think because I can’t remember the dreams, but I was breathing weird (crying?) and sweating when I woke up a few nights. That was coupled with a few nights of crying before bed as flashes of some of the worst images seemed to haunt me when I closed my eyes...

Anyways... Where was I? The holidays... Thanksgiving is in a week.

I made the parker rolls for the first time. It was fun and also sort of emotional. You’re the only person I’ve ever made them with, so there’s obviously a lot of sentiment for me. I hope you saw and I did you proud! <3

*sigh* The holiday season really isn’t the same without you... Its weird not having this automatic assumption of what the plan is... No more prepping this whole elaborate meal with you and helping you around the kitchen all morning... No more moments of you looking over my shoulder and inspecting how I’m chopping the veggies... or how much milk I’m adding to the mashed potatoes... of you reminding me over and over not to forget something I put in the oven and me reminding you, “I have a timer set”... or me laughing at you fighting the urge to comment and control the whole symphony of meal preparation.

You are a control freak (lol) and I love you for it.

I’m really questioning if we’ll ever have decent turkey again... I’m thinking of attempting to make a small one for fun and for practice. Of course I’ll utilize all the things I’ve learned from you over the years: stuff with oranges, onions, and other aromatics, cook breast down for majority of the cook time to keep them moist, use an oven bag and then finish uncovered with frequent basting to get that crisp and flavorful skin, and of course the key to any thanksgiving dish/turkey/meal... BUTTER LMAO. You used SO much butter, salted of course. Extra flavor.

The holidays will never be the same, but as with everything I have learned over the last year... there is always a lesson to be learned... something positive we can take away... reasons to be thankful.

I’m sad things aren’t the way they used to be... That people have lost site of family and togetherness... That people take for granted the time we COULD be having together... but I’ll focus on what we DO have and all the love.

Life is not the same... but that doesn’t mean life isn’t good, or great even... I think its okay to say that... It feels weird to think that a world without you in it could be great... but its not that its great because you’re not in it... its great because I’m carrying your spirit with me and making the best of the cards life has given me.

Well Mama, lets see how this next week goes... I’m sure you’ll be keeping a watchful eye. Send all the best vibes to our loved ones since we can’t all be together... COVID...

Love,

Your daughter

P.S.

I think you didn’t like it when I called you Mom lol. I still remember the time I text you and said “Hey Mom.” You were quick to accuse me of not being your daughter because “Nisa doesn’t call me that.” LMAO! Love you Mama!