#im not doing anything with my rucking life

[kingxfmischief]

.

[gxxdnxises]

i hate being alone. i feel the moon pulling the tears from my eyes and there’s nothing i can do. it feels like i’m sinking into the floor and being pulled up at the same time. i choose to fill my time with friends, i haven’t been in solitude for months. i don’t enjoy being alone with my thoughts.

it’s nothing too jarring, it’s just hard. i tell my therapist i have no suicidal thoughts but the moment i am by myself i can’t help it. i really do not want to be depressed. there was a point of my life where i almost didn’t mind it but i’m tired of having to peel myself off the floor every time.

i think about lying face down in the ocean or falling over the edge of a bridge. i really don’t want to die i just want everything to be okay. i think of the tv static noise, but it’s not always too loud. sometimes it’s like white noise and others it’s like a blender. or it’s so quiet like a mosquito that won’t stop flying by your ear.

i used to always be alone every day. i was incredibly depressed and very unwell. i have ptsd, anxiety, adhd, and major depressive disorder; which i’m not sure if that’s any different from the normal depression but it sounds worse lol. i moved schools and made from friends which helped. i would always have company every second i could. my parents didn’t deny me because they saw how different i was when people where around. then i went to college and i didn’t have to be anymore. i am 20 and i have spent less than 5 nights alone since 2024 started. i am addicted to company. it makes it so hard when its just me.

and my girlfriend decided not to come over tonight which sucks. i’m not mad, just sad. i’m always a little sad concerning that topic though. she says she likes me but she doesn’t want me and i can tell. there’s a difference when you want someone around or want to be close to them. it’s like i’m her friend that she can kiss. and it’s hard because i enjoy our time, and i love our dates. but i still feel unwanted. we’ve been together for about 3 months and it all feels uneasy. i don’t want to base our relationship around sex but is it odd that she’s only touched me once? she’s never initiated either. i don’t try anything sexual unless she moves my hands; as i don’t want her to feel uncomfortable. she knows i would do anything whenever she asks, but i only stated it once- not like nonstop how men do when they want to ruck. idk im not pushing or even asking her for sex but i still want to feel wanted. i want her to want to fuck me. and i don’t want to bring it up bc i don’t want her to feel like i need sex for us to be okay. i feel selfish but i don’t want to mess this up if i’m just being a baby about it.

two separate issues but they’re both on my head. ugh

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Perfect Imperfections

Sam WIlson One Shot

Summary- 2.7k Sam Wilson x Reader. After a lifetime of issues with your skin that result in some scaring, you have a condition called hidradenitis suppurativa. (a chronic skin condition that has painful flare ups and leaves scars.) Letting Sam see these imperfections scare you, but he is a patient man. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- Needle use, mentions of skin imperfections, sexual moments. This is an 18+ Only Blog. 

A/N- This is written for @gotnofucks​ Body Positivity Challenge. As soon as I saw this challenge, I knew the topic I wanted to tackle with this. Thank you for such a wonderful challenge to participate in. Much Love always babes. 

Sam Masterlist

“I have what?” You cringe at the name, it's a long complicated name that ties up your tongue when you try to repeat it, the doctor gives a knowing smile in sympathy. 

“Hidradenitis Suppurativa, or HS.” He offered a simpler option for you, maybe one that wasn't so intimidating to say. 

“And how do I treat it?” You question nervously, what horror was it going to be? Some sort of surgery, endless medications, injections, or worse… would he tell you there was nothing to do but live with it. 

You were tired of living with it, you had the scars left over and really didn't want anymore. 

“I’m going to write you a prescription, some antibiotics and an injection that you will need every week.” 

Your heart lifted a bit when he filled out the email, sending it to your pharmacy. “Thank you.” you said with some relief that there was a solution to treating it. But nothing could take away what its already left behind.  

All your life you lived with these small sores that just came out of nowhere in the worst spots; inside of your thighs, under your breasts, under your arms. All these years you had been embarrassed to go to a doctor about them. But Sam finally convinced you to go when he saw you in pain and refused to let him come near you because they made you feel disgusting. 

That was the hardest part of it, was feeling you were hideous when you had someone like Sam who swore up and down every day that you were beautiful and tried so hard to prove it to you. Little text messages throughout the day, a surprise note stuck to the bathroom mirror for you to find, date nights out walking along the street with his arm around you and constantly whispering in your ear how he had the prettiest girl in town. All little things that he was persistent on, and sometimes they even worked. You would feel that shame lifting and your smile brightening for him. 

He would wink and press a kiss to your forehead in these moments. “That’s my girl.” 

Now you were sitting on the edge of your bed with the injection pen, your hand shaking slightly from the nerves. Earlier a nurse had shown you how to use it, and what to expect. 

But stabbing yourself was a different story then letting someone else do it. Your fear was getting the best of you and you had to set the injection pen aside. 

You drew in a ragged breath now that you were no longer holding the offending item, scolding yourself for not being able to do something so simple. 

Something your body needed desperately, cause maybe the flare ups wouldn't be so bad, you wouldn't be embarrassed to let Sam see you like he wanted, less pain. All of it could be better if you could get past this point. 

You never heard Sam come down the hallway towards your bedroom and happened to see you push away the injection, curl up on yourself on the bed. More then anything he wanted to take all of that pain and insecurity away from you, cause damn you were unlike anyone hes dated before. Sweeter then his grandma’s sweet tea, he could just bask in your glow that you brought to a room. Your laughter never failed to catch his attention from across a room and when you would set your sight on him, give that soft affectionate smile. Oh he was done. You made him feel like the only one in the room. 

And that was just the minor stuff. Everything in his building relationship with you settled in him as it all being so right, Sam was finding he wanted nothing more then to keep building a life with you. So these moments tore him because he just wanted to fix it for you. 

Sam gave a soft knock on the door frame before stepping into the bedroom. “Hey Sugar, you alright?” You rubbed at your face as the bed dipped from Sam sitting next to you and he grasped the injection pen, rolling it lightly in his fingers. 

“Yes…” You lied at first and Sam gave you a look, an arch of his brow that asked for the truth. “No. Im supposed to inject that and fuck it, my hand wont stop shaking just thinking about it.” You grasped your hands together and held them still. 

Sam rolled the injection in his own hands and tilted his head towards you, ghosting his lips against your cheek. “Would you like me to give it to you?” 

You cringed a bit, not that you didn't trust him, you trusted Sam immensely. You trusted him more everyday that you two were together. Sam was your strength, the one you leaned on. 

But you haven't been able to give up your body issues. That was something you were still scared to death for him to see. So much you wouldn't even let him see you completely naked in the light. Every night you would scramble to darken the room before settling into bed for the night. The horrible scars between your thighs that prevented you from wearing shorts or short skirts, the flare ups that shamed you till you would hide away making some lame excuse why you couldn't go out. Now this, having to take the shot made you squirm a bit to top all the other stuff. 

Sam tilted his head to brush his lips to your shoulder, trying to ease you. “If you want, I can give it to you. My Gram used to have me help her once in a while with her diabetes injections. You have a trained professional right here.” He tried putting you at ease, getting you through your uncomfortable feelings, but you pulled away a bit more. 

“No, it's not entirely that Sam.” You twisted your fingers together, looking down. “It’s-uhh- fuck. It's complicated.” 

He frowned a bit, setting the injection aside and reached his hand to cover yours, tugging lightly till your fingers weaved with his. “Well then let's uncomplicate it Y/N.” 

You lifted your gaze to look at him, this man who had the softest brown eyes and a smile that made your insides melt with just a few words, you felt silly, guilty and like a disappointment admitting anything out loud. 

“Me, I'm a mess. I will always have to do these shots, my body is going to have these issues whenever it feels like, I hate looking like this, I'm so scared to let you see me…” You dropped it all, Sam’s hand giving slight squeezes and when your voice started to crack, your words getting ahead of thoughts so they were all a rush, he reached to twist you to face him, his hands moving to cup your face, thumbs sweeping sway at some of those tears tracking down your face. 

“Oh Sugar, if you could see what I see, you wouldn't be worried about what I see anymore. Your stunning, fucking beautiful baby and I’m more then happy to remind you everyday.” 

“You don’t know Sam, it's so ugly…” You started and he let his forehead lean against yours to calm you. You felt his hands slide around you and yours eased around him, breathe in, breathe out, let your mind stop racing. 

“You don’t have to show me today, or tomorrow. Never if you are never okay with it. It's not going to change what I feel and know. So I will remind you everyday that you are the most beautiful woman to me. You love me flaws and all after all.” 

You rolled your eyes a bit, scoffing. “You make it easy Sam.” 

Winking at you, he slid his hands up and down your back while he eased away. “And you don’t? Sugar, you are so good to me that Sarah already told me I would be a fool to let you get away.” You could feel yourself loosening in his hold, your own arms circling up around his neck to press against him, each hugging one another. You could feel soft presses of his lips to your neck, squeezing you a bit closer. “And I agree.” 

You giggled softly, nuzzling in against him and letting his strong feel and warmth wash over you. Hints of warm cedar and sandalwood tickled your nose, and suddenly everything was just better. You pulled away with a gentle “Thank You Handsome” 

“Anytime Baby… now... “ He picked up the injection one more time and dragged his teeth against his bottom lip for a moment in thought. “We don’t have to rush with anything until you are ready. But this…” He tapped the pen against his fingers. “Will you let me help you with it?” 

You nodded and he moved to kneel in front of you, heavy palms rubbing against the top of your jean clad thighs as you moved your shirt up over your belly. 

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous about this.” You say shakily and Sam smiles that reassuring one of his that makes you feel at ease. 

“Don’t you worry Sugar, I got you.” He was gentle when he pinched a bit of your skin and pressed the pen to the area. You started shivering, your breathing caught. “Hey, look at me, m’kay?” It took a moment to pry your eyes away from the pen to his warm eyes. “Not gonna hurt, I promise.” 

Then there was a loud click and you jumped more in surprise at the sudden noise than anything. A slight sting was soon erased with giddiness that it was over and he was pulling the now emptied pen away from your belly. You sagged slightly in relief and Sam pushed himself up, gripping your chin gently and pressing an affectionate kiss to your mouth. 

“Told you Sugar, I got you.” 

Couple Months Later

You and Sam were messing around on the couch, your head laughing as he hovered over you, he was belting out a very off key rendition of Barry White’s Your Sweetness Is My Weakness while skimming fingers along your sides under your tank top and kissing down your neck. Your hands rubbed over his head to fist in the back of his shirt and tug it over his head, discarding it over the back of the cough. His own rucking your tank top over your head and leaning back on his thighs, whistling at you all stretched out before him on the couch, making you cover your face in embarrassment. “Hey, none of that. Fuck Sugar, you are so damn fine.” that last word hissed from between his teeth as his eyes dripped molten warmth, flaring in the pit of your belly.  

You peeked at him from between your fingers and arched slightly to reach behind you, unsnapping your bra and he eased it down, giving a groan. 

A very appreciative groan. The groan of a man who saw something he really wanted. 

His mouth landed on you as well as his hands, roaming supple soft curves and tasting your sweet skin, like a collection of honey dew salt on his tongue. A nipple swirled around his tongue with a hum that was like a jolt to your system. 

Lacing your veins with desire, you felt the mindless buzz of worries start to fade to the background while you enjoyed the sensations he built in you. Now and then you would catch sight of his gaze flickering upwards to you, a check in that you were okay with how this was progressing. Your body had a mind of its own, clearly aware of how to roll under his hands, enabling him to shift you further down the couch till he was inching to a kneel between your spread thighs. His hands slipped over your hips to hook his fingers in the band of your shorts, your hips arched for him to drag them away, but that is where Sam stopped. You gave an impatient whine and flickered your gaze up at him. A slight sheen of sweat coasted across his broad tensed chest, every part of him held back with anticipation, and you couldn't for the life of you figure out why Sam stopped right here. 

“This is what you want, Sugar? Are you okay with this?” 

Then it occurred to you he was giving you the option to say no. Some of those anxieties started to drift back, your fingers twisting together as you spiraled away from the moment. You wished he just kept going, not giving you the option. But that wasn't who Sam was. 

It was now or never, and your resolve settled in you, almost a comfort that you were taking this step with him. A nod made Sam drag his teeth across his bottom lip, taking your confirmation to continue. 

You squeezed your eyes shut while your shorts came off, and you felt the familiar calloused hands sweep along the inside of your thighs and spread you open wider, a soft gasp from him making your eyes shoot open in fear, was he repulsed by the scars?! You knew you should have never let it get this far. Everything in you was afraid to look and see his reaction, just picturing his handsome face looking at you in disgust. 

What you saw was anything but, Sam looked you up and down with nothing but lust in his eyes and an appreciative groan as he let his thumb trace along your slit, spreading your lips apart. “Y/N, you are absolutely beautiful Sugar, and all for me? What a gift.” 

You hovered at the pool side bar while Natasha mixed together a luscious fruity drink, anyone who said these drinks were “girly” simply didn't know. The amount of liquor she mixed with vibrant syrups till you had a tropical blue concoction would get you buzzed faster than any one shot of liquor could. It was just what you wanted. An explosion of fruit on your tongue that would leave you feeling good. When she handed it over, you sipped from the frosty edge with an appreciative hum. “Mmhh, perfect.” You praise while she wedged on a pineapple slice to the brim. 

“I know, you are telling me nothing new Y/N.” She teased while she whipped up her own, the red head sauntering out from behind the bar with her own drink, the two of you approaching the pool side to sit in the warm sunshine. Natasha settled in one lounger, stretching herself out with another sip of her drink before setting it aside. 

You spread a towel out and then unwrapped your cover to let your two piece bikini be revealed, no longer hiding yourself away. 

You felt no more shame in the scars inside your thighs, the dimpling of skin where sore have healed over and over. Sam had helped you chase those fears away over time and now when you applied your sunscreen, you looked over your shoulder to see Sam strolling along the pools edge, his eyes all over you with a wide grin. Making his way over to you two, his hand sweeping around you to grasp your sunscreen bottle while kissing your shoulder. “Let me Sugar... “ He brushed his nose against your neck while moving to sit in the other seat, scooting closer to spread the sunscreen across your shoulders. “You look fantastic by the way. Is this a new swimsuit?” 

You hummed while tilting your head forward, popping a shoulder as if it was no big deal, but it was the first time you had worn a swimsuit out in public in longer than you could remember. You felt his arms circle your mid section, pulling you back into his set so you could lounge back against his chest, your legs weaved through his. 

“Brand new Sam, do you like it?” 

He growled lightly against your ear while nipping your earlobe, whispering against the shell of your ear while he flushed playful kisses to that sweet spot just behind your ear. 

“Very much so, good luck stopping me from peeling you from it later.” 

Playful touches and heated kisses made you feel just like his queen in the summertime sunshine, unable to keep his affections to himself. 

[benny16bombs]

im just going to put this here because it didnt do well on ao3

“I can’t believe the NBA is canceled,” Jake whispered and bit his lip. He looked up at Sean who was sipping coffee. “Babe, do you think hockey would be canceled?’

Sean looked up at Jake, and his blue eyes warmed Jake’s heart. “I mean, I think it will be.”

Jake stood up from the table and went to the fridge, but got nothing. He put his fingers on his lips, something that made him normally calm. He remembered he couldn’t do that no more and quickly jerked his fingers away.

“Why does this have to happen?” Jake sighed.

“I don’t know,” Sean sighed. “But people are treating it like the Black Death, it will be fine Jake.”

It will be fine, Jake told himself as he looked through the fridge, even though he wasn’t hungry. Sean told me it would be fine.

-----

A few hours later hockey was canceled. Because of the virus.

Sean acted calmly, maybe a tad pissed off, but Jake didn’t know what to do.

Hockey was his whole entire life, the only thing he did was eat. He loved hockey, it was his serotonin, what was he going to do? Become sad? Depressed? Will his anxiety be shit like normally in situations like this?

“Babe, you okay?” Sean questioned, and Jake’s thoughts conflicted with his physical appearance. “Jake, you look sad-”

“I don’t know what to do, Sean!” Jake’s emotions burst out. “You know how I love hockey so much, and I don’t know what to do! It’s like my whole en-”

Sean cut him off by grabbing him and put him and carried him bridal style. “Hey, we are going to kill each other with boredom. We can play games, all the shit you do.”

Jake sighed and put his head on Sean’s shoulder as he sat down, still holding Jake in his arms. “Am I overreacting?”

“My best friend is Danton, who burned a couple of cars and smashed glass after his favorite team lost to the Bruins,” Sean cooed. “You reacting like this is perfectly normal. I even miss hockey too, I’m just taking everything in and then I’ll handle it bit by bit. Everyone is different.”

“You’re right,” Jake smiled and he blinked. “Maybe I’m crying because the last time I did was that Blues game, my eyes couldn’t contain the moist water.”

“Nice excuse, you aren’t even crying,” Sean smiled and kissed Jake’s head. “I got you some Oreos, do you want to watch a movie and eat them?"

Jake’s eyes sparkled. “Of course.”

-----

The movie they ended up watching wasn’ that great. But Jake still watched it and ate Oreos. Sean went on his phone to look through news and check up on how all the Bruins were doing. Then he stopped.

“Hey, Jake?”

“Yeah?” His voice was muffled since there was Oreos in his mouth.

“Did you have sex with Chuck?” Sean looked at him with a smile.

“No?” Jake swallowed the Oreos and looked at Sean like he was just hit by a frying pan.

“Well after Charlie got his first goal you said,” Sean had to stop for a laugh. “That you blew him!”

“Huh?” Jake grabbed his phone. “I, I don’t remember saying that…”

Sean smiled and went in to kiss Jake softly on his head. Jake felt like he was bright red.

“You always act drunk when you are getting interviewed, babe.”

Jake snickered. "Whoops."

"Are you enjoying this movie?" Sean asked, his blue eyes pierced Jake's soul.

"No, but it's taking my mind off of things," Jake shrugged.

"That's good."

-----

After the movie, Sean rucked in Jake and snuggled right next to him.

“You’re so cute, Jake,” he smiled and put his arm around Jake’s chest. Jake giggled and kissed Sean’s forehead, who in return put his lips on Jake’s.

“I love you,” Jake’s cheeks went red.

“I love you too,” Sean smiled. He kissed Jake again and got on top of him laughing. He directed Jake’s face to look at his blue eyes, and Jake’s heart throbbed. “Hey, you know what Jake, the world is shit right now. You shouldn’t look at the news since it's awful, just follow the repercussions.”

“I know, babe.”

“And,” Sean cut him off, “I know you are very upset about hockey, but we can do many other things. We can watch a ton of movies, we can call the boys, maybe even Danton because his team isn’t bugging him around. Or if you want, we can just spend all day wrapped up in each other, making out, romantic things. I know times will be tough Jake, and I am willing to do anything for you to make you happy.”

Jake felt like crying now. He was so happy that he had the most perfect boyfriend who understood him in any shape possible. “Why are you so amazing to me?”

“‘Cause I’m your boyfriend,” Sean kissed Jake’s temple. “And I am glad to be.”

Jake kissed him back and put his hands on Sean’s hips, but he moved them quickly to give Sean a hug instead. “Thank you.”

Sean smirked. “No problem, babe. Now how do you want this break to start with?”

Jake’s eyes beamed with confidence when he started to kiss Sean again, pulling him down on top of him.

for @kuraleapingoose9

[gg-astrology]

🌊

Hello!❤️💙🖤 Dropping in a little bit today bc I had? some stray thoughts about scorpios ;; ❤️💙🖤 

Scorpios and the idea of ‘black and white’ ⬇️

- adapting, personal identity and 'open-mindedness’ 

Alternatively NOT for scorpios, but for anyone who struggles to be ‘open-minded’ enough.

Or struggle with ‘accepting’ things right now ( ‘want to be better’ )  

🚫long post 🚫

y know.. ive just been thinking about -- well, myself. And how i AM a black and white kind of person. As most people are? 

Most of us tend to think of ‘black and white’ as connotation for being bad nowadays, we don’t usually like to admit it. Rather, we usually go ‘no no im not -- im not like that im open-minded and trying to be understanding’ - which isn’t exactly what black and white might be like to the person? 

I’m black and white in a way that I know who I am, and I know what I’m comfortable with. My space is big and small at the same time -- it’s not just me, but others as well. The people and the circumstances, the environment around me in my space and what i consider to be spaces i’m into. 

I think that within this space - I’m comfortable with getting to know new things, of accepting it, or being good and nice and comforting around it. Anything that pops into my stream of comfortability - of course I’d be wary of it at first -because this is a safe space. But it can integrate, assimilate into my space. It can be loved and it can be accepted. It doesn’t mean that you stay stuck in your own head - to me - black and white just means I have a flow for myself and I have to integrate it into me before I push it out into the stream.

It’s kind of like a stream with a flow of it’s own - water rushing, one direction, sometimes it gets big or small. It’s just the general idea of being comfortable in the different spaces of that stream because it’s your stream. 

I get uncomfortable if this space co-joins with another stream - another group of consciousness or people. It’s the different water temperature that gets me - sometimes maybe this new stream is cold - so cold that when it meets my stream (the one I’m familiar with) - I need to adjust to the new temperatures. It rucks up my sedimentary banks as well, things beneath the grounds, it ruffles the little organisms, treasures, things and brings it up. Evaluate it, turn it into a new leaf that I’m not prepared for/don’t know what they’re going to do with it. 

It’s very human to need time to adjust. Since your body doesn’t do well if you’re suddenly pulled into freezing cold temperature and a flow of water is moving in a different direction. Gut-reactions, impulses. These things (knowing you’re not prepared/used to it) keeps you safe and on your feet (as well as being pretty Scorpio and Martian as well). 

Motion exists - this new stream might be pulling in a different direction, you can’t stop your body from being pulled to a different rotation. You get dizzy if you’re the flow of the water. That’s just - how we can’t control certain things and how we have to adapt to it. How our biological body adapts but it needs time to do so (cool down/warm up). 

Sometimes it’s the expectations that we have to accept something immediately, when we don’t understand the meaningfulness of the purpose, of the concept to the other person. 

Most of the time, we have some pre-conceived ideas and concepts, we’ve assimilated we have to break down in order to get through to accept new ones. 

I don’t think having it is not not being open-minded? I think it’s very? what? consumerism? fast-consumerism? to expect things to happen just like that. 

Like oh just accept it (which can be good! and what is needed !) - but sometimes, the meaning behind it gets lost. Those who does this can still act out of ignorance because they don’t understand the true significance behind it. And they end up hurting the person after they accepted it, because they don’t actually understand it or stand by it- hesitance and not knowing yourself, sometimes kinda sucks to feel about your own person.

Adapting to things always takes time. Maybe this stream is slower than our stream - things that we aren’t used to or isn’t a part of us yet.  

Imagine a different case/scenario. If we didn’t have this - like, if we just expect people to adapt to different streams intersection into our lives all the time. We’d be totally dizzy and ill-prepared, we’d be off our footing all the time. 

With no idea of who we are, our own sense of identity and assimilation of the goal behind it into our core-values. How are we supposed to integrate into being a better person, if we never actually commit to understanding the concept + adding it into what we value/sense of identity? 

Sometimes it’s harder to not know our own identity, because we’re swayed by so many motions. Than it is to just think about swimming in different pulls of streams all the time.

Some people do well when they ARE prepared to jump into different streams, different intersectionality. But thats because 1) they’re prepared and 2) that’s inherently a part of who they are and learning about things, gathering stuff. More yang-signature than yin of nature to me.  

If I were to say who I am - I’m more prepared to go ‘ok, i’m dizzy.’ and set my foot down. To open up and make the stream settle into one, cohesive lake. Where there is a pull and language, understanding for it all (for the different intersectionality) and mediate from there instead.

Everybody wants to love, and to comfort and accept. I hope nobody actually wants to keep good things out of their lives if they can’t help it (well, healthily anyways). 

But rather than just gobbling up and saying ‘i accept’ over and over, in order to be ‘open-minded’ without truly understanding the significance behind it (the whole story) - sometimes we need time to understand something, to adjust, to look out and tread cautiously so we don’t get hypothermia or burnt. And that’s sometimes a part of self-preservation and/or attack or defenses.  

Does this make sense? Next time you think about Scorpios - try thinking about water flowing in a direction. Streams can help, whether some part of it is big or small. Things live in streams, micro-organism, fishes, etc. It curves and it follows, it’s a strong current that has it’s own path. 

Bending that path by man-made effort, requires understanding and respect - mostly of its original stream. The significance of the stream’s original responsibility - to other organism, to things it dutifully carries over its waters towards, nourishing trees and it’s resources, animals that are too nervous to be around humans. There’s more to it than what we see - or what we want it for our immediate benefit personally. Rather than jumping into the fray and seeing it from our own perspective/wants/needs only, some sights and consideration for what it does might help to aggravate them a little less. 

Black and white doesn’t mean it’s automatically unaccepting. Black and white can also mean there needs to be some understanding in-between, takes time to adapt, to seek out/find resources, some clearing of space, to make room for the new things to come in. Things when they are secured (like a lake/pond - Scorpio fixed sign) are cohesive and uniformed. Sometimes it requires pausing in order to be accepted, to settle and to see where things land. 

Adapting sometimes doesn’t happen like a snap of your fingers for everyone, and we probably shouldn’t expect it cold water to clash with hot water and there not to be steam coming off from it. But that doesn’t ultimately mean that there won’t be changes - whether its done by the person or those who evoke those changes themselves. 

Sometimes it’s saying one thing - but then going through to evaluate the thought, the turmoil inside - and then coming out the other end accepting it. I think that’s what it’s like for me - I’m not an all-accepting, open-minded person either - but that’s because I’m human and I need to adapt. 

I need time, and to make space inside myself, to evaluate things inside of me in order to do so. And I think that’s something most people can do. Or should do? in their life maybe.

The archetype of Scorpios.. I’ve been thinking alot about as well. How Scorpio’s greatest attack is their defenses, the resilience that makes them seem almost impossible to stop. 

In their gift of realizing deception, rejecting hollowness and seeing through shallow facades, Scorpios are not afraid to expose realty for what it is; they are the emissaries of a more complete sense of truth than many of us are prepared to contemplate, the penetrating aspects of it often being too painfully sharp for comfort. 

There’s a part where Scorpio and Virgos are very similar. And I think I’m mostly gathering my understanding about this from a very Virgo Mars perspective. 

I do think the idea of Scorpios being black and white + sediments being rucked up when soil underwater is disturbed, can talk a lot about being protective of things that shouldn’t be quickly consumed. We can sometimes be too impatient, so quick to want others to explain things or be/communicate or understand things just like us. But people aren’t always - not all are the same. 

Some people needs time, hot meeting cold water, water flowing in different directions. These things takes time, especially if you think about the body of water actually housing banks of organism underneath it’s watery body. If you walk in - even if it’s well-intended- trying to pull the stream towards yourself, sometimes you don’t know what significance it has, this is just asking for everyone involved, to put in the consideration and thoughtfulness for the nature (of others) around them as well.

Anyways! Yeah, this is some thoughts. ;; I tried to go over it a couple of times. Here’s more about Scorpio and it’s qualities, archetype if you’re interested. It’s where the above excerpt came from as well. I hope this comes across well, and give you some kind of hope, peace or calmness if that’s what it comes down to. 

In conclusion for those who feels like they are struggling: know yourself first, before you learn to know/accept/learn about others. Sometimes the struggle is just us being pulled taunt in different streams, different temperature and we’re reacting to it. Let our bodies adapt and let our mind (gut or feelings) assimilate the idea on our own terms. 

Sometimes we’re putting up a struggle because we’re trying to 1) assimilate the idea in and 2) know ourselves as well. Those two things can be at odds, and cause up a reaction (just like steam when temperatures met). 

If there’s things we need more time on, or things we don’t brush off, we struggle to work through. There’s more chances of coming out of this much more self-loving, accepting and understanding the significance much better processed. It takes time, but know yourself. Whether you’re stuck in a rut and you’re more of a jumping stream person, or whether you’re a calm-water person and is stuck in between water flow that’s different. Let’s learn to know ourselves a little better and adapt as we’re prepared for it.  

[the-pan-ace-writings]

Chapter 10 Days of Repair

First Previous Masterlist

A/N: Yall this one is pretty fluffy!, Im already working on the next update but classes just started up again so It might be a little bit before I update again, Also I plan on making a masterlist for this work and I will update previous chapters to include the link to it 

When they entered Diamond City again the arrival of the brotherhood was the only talk of the town, everyone seemed upset about their presence in the commonwealth, but Riona had never heard of them or even seen them until now.   Nick parted ways with them at the dugout and declared them to stop by when Riona could walk on her own.    MacCready at this point was supporting almost all of her weight, she looked terrible, gore was smeared all over her face and she was hardly conscious anymore near delirious with her dizzy. It was clear that she was badly concussed and would need to address her injuries when they got a room. MacCready and Nick hardly took any damage during the assault on Fort Hagen, Riona typically drew the most fire so their own injuries had been near misses or bruises. He shook his head and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her into the dugout and into a room, Dogmeat had returned to his typical dopey dog routine and curled up onto the couch.    “You gotta stop doing this doll,” he muttered as he placed her down on the bed, and started rummaging through her ruck to find the medkit. He pulled out three stimpacts and a medx that she had.

  He gave her a quarter of the medx before he shot her up with three stimpacks, hoping to knock her out before the effects of high doses of stimpack made her nauseous. It momentary concerned him when she passed out so fast but when he brought his hand to her nose he felt her breathing. He went to the restroom and wet some cloths and loaded one with alcohol, and went about trying to clean up the blood that smeared her face, the gash on her forehead he deemed would have to do with just bandaging because he didn't think he could handle stitching her up at this moment.   He was trembling as he cleaned her up inspecting her wounds, he started to realize how close she had been to overdoing it. He set her nose and bandaged that and slowly worked on pulling her out of her armor and leather, he noticed the large dent in the chest plate and pulled her shirt up to see the blossoming of bruises on her ribs, frowning he pushed on them slightly to determine if any had been broken, but quickly stopped when he heard her whine in pain at the action.   Once he had gotten her out of armor and mostly cleaned up he pulled her out of her gore covered clothes and dressed her in spare clothes she kept in her ruck. He tried his best to clean up and untangle her hair before adjusting her on the bed tucking her into the blankets, laying his duster over her and patting the spot next to her to have dogmeat with her. He hoped that she was out of it enough that nightmares wouldn't wake her up like the night after the interview.   It was fortunate that she was so drugged out because if she had been any more conscious without a doubt she would have stayed asleep, already having rolled onto her stomach clutching the pillow beneath her.. MacCready had cleaned himself up but had worked himself into a tissy about how much he had given her, that when he laid down next to her he kept a hand on her back to make sure she was still breathing.  It was a long night for MacCready and had only just fallen asleep when she jerked awake and emptied her stomach into the bucket that he had placed by her, immediately he was up next to her pulled her hair back and helped her lie back down, she clutched her head and he brought over a cool cloth placing it down on her forehead.    "Thank you” it was small and weak but he heard it when she spoke, she leaned into his hand when he placed his hand on her. Frowning he absentmindedly ran his fingers through her hair.   “Go back to bed, it'll be okay.” She nodded and curled in on herself eyes unopened. He climbed back into bed and was up for the majority of the night, only sinking into sleep when Riona had turned over, laid her head and hand on his chest, he curled his arms around her and pulled up the blankets on them.   He doesn't know what time it was when he woke up but he knows she was still fast asleep on him, he ran his fingers through her hair playing with it until she grumbled and stretched out.   He slipped out of her grasp and encouraged Dogmeat to move closer to her before he stepped out of the room. He went to collect noodles from the bar out in the commons for them to eat, and when he reentered the room Riona was just sitting up, adjusting her hair to sit nicely after having been down sleeping. She smiled sleepily when he handed her a bowl of noodles and thanked him. Her voice was rough and raw, most likely from screaming yesterday, and the hot broth helped sooth it.   “Riona, you gotta be more careful when we're out. It's no use if you die before you save your son.” He sat on the couch and tried not to sound like he was mothering her but he was so worried during the assault when she took off at it still hasn’t gone away. She frowned, her face twisting up and she turned from him.   “I know. It's just hard. He was so small when he was born, I didn't even want kids, he wasn't even Nate’s but he decided a kid could save our marriage, all it did was build resentment, but when he was born it was like something shifted and all I needed to do was keep him safe. And I let damn Nate hold him in the vault and now he's gone. It feels like everything is slipping again and I can't take it all the time. I thought we had him yesterday and it was all squandered when Kellogg didn't have him.   I've never felt that angry in my entire life, not even in the army programs with their chems. And I know I gotta keep it under control but it's so damn hard.” She was staring down at her bowl, watching is swirl as she spilled out her emotions, it was clear she was embarrassed and didn't want to look at MacCready.   He was silent for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts and trying to determine if he was going to tell her about Duncan when it was already spilling from his lips.   “My son... He’s sick. I don't know what's wrong with him. One day he was playing in the fields behind our farm the next he took fever and broke out in blue boils. Last I saw him he was too weak to walk. I didn't dare ask him to come with me.” he paused looking from her to the walk next to him. “I know it's different than what's going on with Shaun, but I want you to know you're not alone.” He stood up and made to leave pulling his cap back on and adjusting his scarf.   “Can you come here?” Riona reached her hand out, waiting for him to take it when he did she pulled him to settle on the bed tugging his cap off and running her fingers through his hair. “Thank you.” she was momentarily bleary eyed and narrowly focused on carding through his hair.   “Why did you leave the capital wasteland if he's still back there?” She leaned back against the headboard and let MacCready lay his head on her lap, still running her fingers through his hair, she spoke in low tones and was looking towards the window in the room. He took a deep breath and held it for a long time, she had started to tell him it was okay that if he didn't want to answer.   “No its fine, I'm looking for a cure for him. I had met a man named Sinclair who said his friend had the same confliction had mentioned that there was a cure around here.” he had stopped himself from speaking, as if he didn't want to divulge information he held close like he didn't want to get his hopes up, He tugged at his scarf. “It doesn't matter, I ran with the gunners for a while and left abruptly can't do anything with them on my back all the time.” he had pulled back his hair to show a scar in his hairline, something she had momentarily forgotten. She looked back down at him and pulled his hand away.   “Why don't you just kill them?”   “It's not that simple, I would have to destroy the entire wing base… It's not something I can do by myself.” The fell into silence, he had closed his eyes and was lost in memories of other things he couldn't do. Riona still ran her fingers through his hair and had moved her other hand to be curled into his scarf, she was surprised that they had allowed themselves to be this open with each other. The last person she had held like this was a girlfriend when she was still in the army and honestly couldn't remember if she ever held Nate like this. But she was determined not to lose this connection with another person. And it's likely the main contributor to what followed.   “I'll help you.” it was short and serious, when he had opened his eyes in confusion she met his, he had opened his mouth to protest when she interrupted him. “He's been lost for a long time, a little more isn't going to change anything at this point. Let me help you.” she turned away from him clearly ending that conversation.   They had spent the rest of the day in the room, both unwilling to leave the unspoken comforts of each other.

Next

[whatmack]

are you continuing 'im not making u eggs' :D

Anonymous asked: hi its ur crackhead mattneil anon again :))) r u rlly gonna leave us all hanging like that (also i think u forgot to tag the 2nd part of im not making u eggs) 

Anonymous asked: VOFMSKCN ’VE OW JVKW JS WHY DID U LEAVE IT THERE U HEATHEN

@lunylovegoodlover asked: Your mattneil fic is KILLING ME like OH MY GOD like THEYRE SO SOFT and WHAT GOOD HEALTHY COMMUNICATION THEY ALL HAVE i love them all so so so much. Everything about that series is so soft and perfect and lovely, I’d kill for more of it whenever your fancy strikes. (like seriously though I’ve basically been staring at my laptop in shock for the last five minutes trying to process how much I love this)1) YELL HEAH I AM listen despite knowing before I started which couple was endgame I’ve been riding this mattneil train since day 12) HELLO HELLO and thank you! It should be fixed now?3) ;)4) YOU’RE SO NICE GOSH HELP communication is so! good! A lot of what I write has to do with communication, or miscommunication, I’ve been realizing. It’s so important!

“Hah—wh—n—yeah?”For a terrible moment Neil thinks Skype has cut out for his confession. Hegathers himself to say it again. Matt forestalls him by leaning forward, the crinkleof the blankets loud over laptop speakers, touching his fingertips to the outsideof the camera as if he’s holding Neil’s face. “You, um. Like. You mean like…like?”Neil fists his hands in his lap. Matt has cut right to the heart of it. It mustbe easier for him to think that way, all heart as he is. If Neil’s stomach keepssquirming it’ll wiggle right out of his body, maybe down a leg first to beextra uncomfortable. “I think so? I want to kiss you. And I like spending timewith you. And you’re…you look good.”Especially now, in a threadbare t-shirt that clings to the definition in Matt’schest, the yellow light from his bedside table warming the angles of his face. Neil’snot used to this. It’s similar enough to how he feels about Andrew for him torecognize it, but it’s not the same.Less edge-of-the-world. More…lazy Sunday morning. Though lazy Sundays withAndrew are some of the best parts of Neil’s week, so that division doesn’t makesense.

Neilcan’t define how he feels about Andrew. Has never been able to, to hissatisfaction. He just knows that the feeling is there. Maybe if he’d tried harder to categorize it, he’d be able tofigure out how he’s feeling right now, about Matt.Sensing the beginnings of a headache, Neil presses his fists into the seatcushion through the gap in his crossed legs and pulls back. He first thought ofAndrew in terms of actions; actions are something Neil understands. He wants to kiss Andrew. He enjoys kissing Andrew. He wants to kiss Matt. He likesholding Andrew’s hand. He likes holding Matt’s hand. He likes going places witheither one of them, or both, the few times Andrew has agreed to it. He likessex with Andrew. Does he want–Warring answers clash in Neil’s chest, sending his head spinning off. There’s ajubilant, hungry yes that presseseager pictures of Matt’s smile, his hands, his body, reminds Neil how good itfeels with Andrew, whispers that Matt would be good as well. It batters againsta spike of fear so sharp Neil can’t breathe. It’s not only the memory of hismother’s slap. It’s also his general unfamiliarity with non-Andrew-related desire, thecertainty that despite Andrew’s permission he’s not supposed to feel like thisfor anyone else. It’s not how he’s put together. He’s been silent for too long. Matt has messaged him, the text popping up belowthe pixelated worry sketching wrinkles across his eyebrows, digging lines oneither side of his mouth and poking dimples in his chin.  Neil can u talk to me?

Kinda worried about u

Neil?The panic ebbs, notbanished but content to wait. This is Matt. Matt is safe, warm, giving. Hemight have answers Neil doesn’t, but even if he doesn’t, he’ll help Neil findthem. Neil unclenches his aching fingers and rests them on his knees.

“Do you?” he asks.

Relief breaks across Matt’s face. Neil knows Matt hasn’t heard him over thereassurance of him speaking again, so he repeats himself. The pencil lines ofMatt’s expression rearrange themselves. Thoughtful; holding back. Internally,Neil shakes his head.  The most neutral faceMatt is able to make is a beaming grin.

“Do I want to….” Matt’s lips close in the shape of a kiss. He touches the backof his hand to them, and then blinks and looks away, embarrassed at thegesture. Neil’s not sure why. “Uh. I mean if you’re down?”

His voice cracks. Matt jerks a hand up to cover the bottom of his face. Neiltilts his head. He’s never seen Matt be shy.

It’s fascinating.

“Sorry,” Matt says, muffled by his hand. “Never—actually.”

“You cut out for a second,” Neil says, and Matt swears. He sounds more likehimself as he lowers his hand to try again.

“I just said, I never thought this would happen.”

Neil frowns. “You thought about it?”

“Dude,” Matt groans. He flops back onthe pillows, tipping his image back and forth. Neil’s glad he doesn’t getseasick. “I might have been thinking about it for a while.”

His face is hidden by his pillow and the angle of his chin. Neil doesn’t thinkit’s an accident. “Why?”

Matt’s eyes appear as he cranes his neck. He’s got his t-shirt pulled up overhis nose. Neil misses the sight of his mouth until he notices that Matt’s bellybutton is now exposed. It’s a sight Neil has seen more times than he’d honestlylike to, but this new feeling welling up inside of him urges him to stare. Theskin there looks smooth, a patch of tiny curls meandering down into Matt’swaistband. Neil wonders what it would feel like, to touch. Would the musclesjump if he tickled? What if he scratched, lightly like he does to Matt’s head?

“Hey.” Matt’s voice is gentle. He comes out of his shirt, friction working onNeil’s side for once in his life and keeping it rucked up. “Do you want this tochange anything? It doesn’t have to.”

Neil nods, firm. Of this he’s sure. He wouldn’t have said anything if he didn’t want his words to have an effect. He’s too good at hiding forthat. Unfortunately, that’s where the sureness stops; Neil doesn’t know whatkind of change he wants to happen, just that he wants something. And hopefullyit can involve kissing, but that isn’t necessary. He stares at Matt through thecamera helplessly, wishing he could pierce the miles between them and lean againstMatt’s strong chest, rest in the knowledge of Matt’s breathing and that thingsare, for the next few hours at least, going to be all right.

“How about…um. Can I take you on a date?” Matt bites his lip and then smiles,boyish exuberance trickling back into his frame. He sits up against theheadboard and takes the laptop with him, gesturing with his free hand. “When Ifirst got signed Dan and I used to do these video dates. I’d still like to takeyou out for real, but it’s not that far off from the real thing, we can dressup and everything…” he sees how Neil’s not moving and with visible effort calmsdown. “If you want that. We can do something else.”

“I’d like it. The date,” Neil says, feeling a bit topsy-turvy himself. He’sonly vaguely sure what people do, on dates; he and Andrew don’t tend towardsthat sort of thing, or if they do, it’s more one of them dragging the othersomewhere and them insulting each other and seeing how soon they can get the maître-d(or cinema worker, or park concert usher) to kick them out. Neil has never regrettedthe lack of traditional romancing. It’s a pointless ritual when he and Andreware already wrapped past each other’s deepest twistings. But with Matt….

Matt is so excited, and Neil feels himself pulled along. A small spark ofanticipation pricks under his breastbone. “We can try it.”

“Great!” Matt beams at Neil, and Neil finds himself blushing. Starting to workout why Matt’s smile is affecting him differently now hasn’t dampened thereaction. If anything, it’s made it stronger. “Now where’s my little boy?”

Neil recognizes the distraction tactic for what it is, and is grateful for it.There have been too many feelings for today. He relates the story of the newkitten’s latest exploits to Matt’s rapt attention, which runs right into Mattsharing the story of the puppy he saw on the way to the gym this morning, andthey exchange subjects until Neil gives a cracking yawn and Matt demands thathe go to sleep.

“No,” Neil says, to be contrary.

“What if it will make me feel betterif you go to bed?”

“Guess you’ll never find out.”

Matt laughs. Matt’s laugh has never made Neil feel excluded, the way thelaughter of other children did when he was younger. No, Matt’s is aninvitation, and Neil is smiling without really knowing why. “Okay. Goodnight, babe.”

There’s a slight hesitation before the babe,and it makes Neil want to wrap himself in his bedclothes and hum. He raises hishand to wave as Matt mimes a video fist-bump, and then cuts the call.

It seems he’s got a date.

[pinkletterday]

Dancing Queen

Pairing: Oliver Queen/ Barry Allen

Rating: Teen

Summary: Barry makes an awful pun and Oliver makes an impulsive proposal.

A/N: Arrow S5/ Flash S3 AU. Laurel's alive and Sam came back to Starling with William.

This is my Olivarry fic with the highest proportionate kudos rating. Idk why. It's a strange bit of fluff. :P

Read on AO3

When Mayor Queen's driver pulls up to his boss' apartment building, Oliver is still on his phone. He's been on his phone or in meetings all day, putting out fires, being sneered at by experienced Councilmen, harangued by the city treasury and being coached through dizzyingly complicated legalese by Laurel. He is trying not to drown in it all but can't ignore his night job either, especially considering a certain businessman who had turned up, thinking to offer the new and overwhelmed young mayor a tempting carrot and a large stick. Oliver has been urgently co-ordinating with Diggle and Felicity for the Green Arrow to divest the gentleman of both, post-haste.

His child's mother calling him to demand satisfaction is the icing on today's cake.

"Yes, Samantha, I understand this is the third time-," he absently waves the driver off, juggling his briefcase and files. "I know William was disappointed at missing his weekend with me - yes, I realize that - Sam, I just got sworn in as mayor! - well, yeah it was three months ago but - yeah, I'm still at my night job but I am being careful - yes, I am taking him to the Cardinals game this weekend - I'll make it up him, Samantha, I promise - I'm not lying to him!"

Samantha isn't done with him until he's at the doorstep of the apartment he now shares with Barry. Who had moved to Starling to be with him ("I can be in Central in 10 minutes, Oliver") but who, to Oliver's eternal guilt, has barely seen him this week, what with work and vigilante-ing ("That's still not a word, Barry.") and respective family commitments. He's two hours later than he said he would be today as well.

Oliver unlocks the door, weary apology on his lips, expecting to find takeout on the counter and a speedster flopped forlornly on the sofa, flipping through the cable channels.

What he finds is the delicious smell of baking pervading the apartment, along with the strains of Grease and Barry obliviously singing along into a broom. He's in his socks and Spiderman boxers, wearing one of Oliver's t-shirts that hangs so large off his slender frame that it makes him look like a misshapen manta ray. There's icing sugar on his nose and his hair is still fluffy from a shower.

"Better shape up, cause you need a man..." his boyfriend spins around á la John Travolta, does a double take when he sees Oliver and bursts into a smile like sunshine, continuing without missing a beat - "and my heart is set on you!" flinging his arm out dramatically to point at him. The complete dork.

"You're the one that I want, you are the one I want," Barry sings blithely into his makeshift mic, hustling up to him, "ooh ooh ooh," shimmying from side to side. Oliver grabs him by those enticing hips to pull him forward and kiss him as soundly as he can through both their grins. He tastes like icing sugar and almonds.

"What's all this?" asks Oliver when they break apart, gesturing to the kitchen island scattered with baking supplies and trays of fresh-baked doughnuts.

"Well," Barry leads Oliver by the hand to show him his handiwork, steps still bouncing, "I figured you'd be in hot water with Samantha because you had to cancel your last weekend with William 'cause of that thing with the vampire cult -"

They have vampires now, apparently. Because the world isn't already ridiculous enough. "Was that Star City weirdness or Central?"

"Neither, they turned out to be based out of Keystone. And you were the one who rolled out the magic stuff, not me. Anyway. Samantha doesn't understand about vampires so I figured she'd be on the war path -"

"She is."

"So your intrepid superhero boyfriend breezed by William's school and found out that his class is having a bake sale!" A grown man should not look that much like an adorable labrador that had brought back the frisbee, Oliver thinks. "And William says Samantha is pants at baking, so if you ride in on your white horse with two dozen homemade doughnuts -"

"I'd earn back some brownie points."

"Exactly. And it makes your interest look more proactive! Which it is!" Barry hurries to clarify as Oliver's face clouds, "You're just really swamped, Ollie. You'd bake all day for William if you had time. But you do have a speedster boyfriend to help out so...I'm just pinch hitting."

Oliver looks with tenderness and wonder at the younger man, bustling around full of effervescent energy.

"Thanks, Barr. You're amazing," he reels him in close by his waist and gently kisses the icing off his nose.

Barry looks pleased with himself. "I am."

"You look like you're almost done." Oliver looks around regretfully.

"Yes, but you can still help me put the icing and sprinkles on the last batch. I know you love them, you lying health food freak!" Barry smirks and pushes the bowl of icing and bag of sprinkles at Oliver, who gladly takes off his coat and rolls up his sleeves.

"Laurel called and told me you'd be held up at work, so I ate and put the leftovers in the fridge for you." Barry continues moving fluidly around him with dancing movements, opening cupboards and tossing cutlery in the sink.

"That's good. I was afraid you'd have waited for me."

"Babe, I'm a speedster," Barry snorts. "I'd die if I waited for you to eat. This stomach waits for no man, sorry. Not even the one I love."

"Stomach first, man second," Oliver agrees. "I have always suspected this about you."

"Yes. I only love you cause you feed me," Barry nods. He attempts to scoop up some more icing with his finger only to be swatted away by Oliver. "Hey! That was my icing first!"

"And now its my icing and my doughnut," says Oliver sternly. "Keep those thieving hands to yourself, greedy."

Barry pouts injuredly at him. "The love, it has been rescinded."

Oliver tugs him close, smears icing on his lips and kisses him in answer. "Has it really?"

"Mmmm," Barry noses his ear, "and how was your day?" he inquires, wrapping his long manta ray arms around him and trapping him in his own t-shirt.

Oliver buries his face in his lover's hair and huffs. "I don't even want to talk to about it."

He feels Barry's shoulders slump. "Same," he whispers. "I only got through today so I could come home to you."

They hold each other close for a long moment before Barry breaks away. "How about we just not talk about anything serious and concentrate on William's doughnuts?"

"I'll focus on his doughnuts," Oliver leers playfully, letting his hand slide below his boyfriend's waist. "You were in the middle of something when I interrupted. Please continue."

"What?" Barry looks at him befuddled. "You're serious?"

"I'm the mayor, Barry. I'm always serious."

"You want me to dance for you? While you decorate doughnuts?"

"Yup." Oliver smirks and gooses his partner, making him yelp and wiggle away. "Entertain me, serf. Go on!"

Barry gapes at him and then, when he continues to look deadly serious, starts scrolling through the song menu, pouting. An evil grin suddenly comes over his face and -

"Friday night and the lights are loooow..."

Oliver instantly regrets everything. "Okay no wait, I take it back - Barry, no! You know what, you're fired. We're breaking up. Give me the remote."

Barry gleefully spins out of the way and continues singing. "YOU ARE THE DANCING QUEEN!" he yells at Oliver, who cringes in his soul.

"This is the corniest you have ever been in your life." Oliver informs him. Barry does an unrepentant shimmy in reply.

"DANCING QUEEN FEEL THE BEAT FROM THE TAMBOURINE OOOH-" Barry is cut off as a cloud of icing sugar explodes in his face. He blinks and sputters in disbelief.

"Oh, hell no!" he growls when his vision clears, lightning sparking in his eyes. "You're not getting away with that, Queen!"

Oliver meets his boyfriend's glare with a smirk and spins the icing spatula in his hand like a nunchuck. "Bring it, Allen!"

...

Later, Abba is still playing in a low hum in the background, and the two of them are lying much dishevelled on the kitchen island floor which is covered in various cake ingredients. Barry's t-shirt (or rather Oliver's) is rucked around his armpits and both their pants are shucked around their thighs.

Oliver falls back onto the sugar-covered floor with a sigh. "I can't believe I had sex with you after that," he groans. "That was the unsexiest thing I've ever seen."

"And yet," Barry grins smugly at the ceiling. "It's not my fault you're easy."

Oliver props his head on his elbow and turns to look at Barry pulling up his Spiderman pants. There is flour in his hair, his cheek and chin are smeared with batter and he's lost a sock. He sees Oliver staring at him.

"What?" Barry asks warily.

Oliver continues gazing at him like he's seeing him for the first time. "I just realized how absolutely awful everything is."

Barry blinks and looks around. "Um. I can clean this up in a minute-"

"It's not that."

"I didn't think Abba was that bad?" he tries, bewildered.

Oliver stands, pulling his pants up and helps Barry to his feet. He pulls the other man onto the sofa and seats himself opposite him on the coffee table, knees brushing against each other.

"Barry...this week has been awful," Oliver begins, letting his forehead drop wearily onto their clasped hands. "I'm a college drop out, I ran my family's company to the ground and now I'm trying to run a city when everyone knows Im not qualified. I try to look as though I know what I'm doing but I'm in over my head every day. Thea and Laurel are like my life rafts and Im still just keeping my head above water. Not to mention my night job -

The fatigue of settles into his bones but he ploughs on. "It's been five years and sometimes I feel like I didnt make the slightest bit of difference - no, let me say this - I feel like I'm only damming the flood every night and I'll never be able to stop being the vigilante or live a normal life. I have nightmares that this city will drain me of everything I am until I'm nothing but a shrivelled, bitter old man alone in the shadows with his bow.

"My kid is the one thing that's pure and completely good in my life but I've missed so much of his. I am so mad at Samantha and my Mom for that. But I can barely be there for him, or make his Little League games or bake sales. My parents made a lot of mistakes but at least they were there for me. I cant give even that much to my son because the city is taking everything I have. I'm failing him, Barry."

He only realizes his eyes are wet when Barry brushes the tears away with his thumbs, framing Oliver's face in his hands with an expression of infinite tenderness.

"Oliver," he leans their foreheads together and breathes his name into the space between.

"But that's not it." Oliver draws back, capturing Barry's hands in his own to look up at him, willing him to understand. "I just realized...everything in my life is completely awful - and I am so goddamn happy." He takes a shuddering breath through the lump in his throat and looks his boyfriend the eyes. "Marry me."

Barry looks stunned. "What?"

"Marry me."

Barry stares at him. "I just sang "Dancing Queen" at you and destroyed our kitchen."

"I know. You're awful. And so corny. You look ridiculous in my shirts. You eat so much sugar that watching you gives me toothache. You keep watching the same three musicals over and over when you cant sleep. It's like living with a five year old. I love you. Marry me."

"This is officially the weirdest marriage proposal ever," marvels Barry, still bemused. "I still don't understand where this is coming from. Is it because you had a bad day?"

"It's because I had a bad day," Oliver agrees, "and then I came home to you being...well, you. And then nothing else mattered."

Tears are now shining in Barry's beautiful eyes as well, clinging to his long lashes. "I love you too."

They fall forward into each other as Oliver crushes Barry to him. "Never leave," he pleads into his lover's neck, where the scent of vanilla and batter is spiced with that of ozone and storms. "Stay."

"Yes," Barry clutches him back just as fervently. "I will."

"You will?" He stills, daring to hope.

"Well, no," his boyfriend amends, pulling back. Oliver's face falls. "You have to do it properly."

Barry gestures imperiously at the floor as he looks on in bemusement. "Properly, Oliver," he says sternly and the light of understanding dawns.

"Ahem. Of course." Oliver pulls a mask of solemnity over the exhilaration surging within him. "I don't have a ring though -," he casts around and spots - "Ah, well this'll do."

He takes the one rainbow sprinkle doughnut he had managed to ice which has been miraculously spared the destruction and ceremonially places it on a napkin on his palm. Then he sinks down on one knee in front of his giggling boyfriend.

"Barry Allen," his laughter fades as Oliver looks at him over the colourful confection, heart open in his eyes. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes," the tears that have been shining in Barry's eyes spill over and he wipes them away hazily. "Yes, I will."

He graciously holds out his pinkie for Oliver to slide the doughnut on and bursts out laughing when they kiss. Barry pulls away and starts eating the cake off his finger.

"What are you doing?" exclaims Oliver. "You can't eat your engagement ring!"

"It's my ring," Barry informs him through a sweet mouthful. "I can do what I want."

"What about me? Aren't you gonna share with your fiancé?"

"Remember what I said about the stomach coming first - Oliver, no!" Barry falls off the sofa with a shout of laughter as Oliver lunges at him.

Hours later, the kitchen speed-cleaned, remaining doughnuts salvaged and safely stored, the two of them lie in bed, fed, showered and sated. They are tucked comfortably and tightly in each other's arms, like two neatly fitted pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. There is no ring but their fingers are entwined with each other's in silent promise.

"Barry?" Oliver murmurs into his fiancé's neck.

"Yeah, babe?" Barry nestles further into his arms sleepily.

"You know I love everything about you."

"So you say."

"But can you do something for me?"

"Hmm?"

"Please never mention that song again. Ever."

There is a contemplative silence.

"That's probably for the best."

The End

[boycottmilk]

no one fucking cares enough to read the content of my messages, they just assume its in a rude yelling tone when literally im just saying facts and each part of the essays i write to finally put words to my thoughts niw that i have someone other than hades to look after, and they dont want me to even say theyre name. they were m whole kife and reason for living to take care of them. i knew theyd choose chey over me but to break it off so fast like it was nothing, like i wasnt doing full service to get them the quality of life thats below what they deserve, i mean they deserve so much more, so i guess, leaving them monthly checks the same to them, ill never stop loving and supporting them as a sister, but ruck im angry that they didnt even read or care about me writing a long message to their girlfried about how shes disrespected and ungreatful to a degree that she doesnt care about my health that i sacrifice to make the 20 minute walk and hour round trip to see them. that i do full service to get them cloths or help with whatever. i know its petty cash but being this disabled and in poverty it takes so much out of me, and its worth it because we grew up together and my whole reality is based on them. im gonna kill myself and these babies that are as big as a russet potato. i can feel at least 3 of them when i press down. it was supposed to be hades getting pregnant rirst with chey whos said to my face and behind my back she doesnt want me involved in her life or her childrens. i thiught we were friends until hades needed alone time for the first time in 2 years and told chey to stay at my place and she said, that worse.

i know they think im in the wrong for saying why shes disrespectful and why hades deserves better, but im nice er and amacable and not cruel or mean, and chey takes that as my whole identity, being stupid and slow and distant but also anything i share is oversharing. she said once she cant stand to look at me because of my scars. never agnoledged that im so disabled i need a wheelchair and she has me walk far with her and a quick pace because i dont complain. just be kind and nice. why is that gaslighting. why is that cruel. the only thing that matters in the world are actions and spoken words, regardless of the reason. hades and i broke up. chey was never my bestie in the first place bc my kindness and respectful listening wasnt enough. shes gonna have babies with my life partner and i just have to move on.lyla broke up with me when she heard the woed pregnant. ryan mitchel montgomery stood by my side for 4 days straight when all i asked was help doing laundry cause i was losing my mind and my health rapidly bc this is too much to deal with. what part of that is cruel? chey has a home with a family that loves her and can leave, this is hades personal voucher.i knew i wouldnt barely be involved bc chey doesnt want me to raise her kids, shes said that, after 8 years of us holding on to eachother and nothing wlse kept us alive but planning a family... i hope they find freedom and happyness without me bc aparently they cant deal with me being half as rude as they always are. im okay and accepting with theyre communication style and cheyenne cant stand it, more than that chey thinks she knows ades more because she dated them for like a year in highschool. i was there the day they broke up until the day they got back together,. i knew id raise my kids on my own with hades as a babysitter and our children being siblings. im too hesrt broken over hades, lyla, cheyenne, ryan, tabetha, none of them care about me anymore now that i have a reason to be pushy with not dealing with theyre stressers that theyve put on me so casually. i am kind and forgiving, but her saying my note to send to hades when i die in a few minutes or hours is gaslighting and evil and everything i told her is a lie, shows the depth of her character real well. i guess its me snd my cats, and levi and quinn, alexis and jane, my aunt andy, and im gonna live alone with their help as needed. im gonna have to try again to get pregnant on perpose when these drug and alcohol poisoned babies, with bad frostbite a broken ankle and many hard falls from it fpgiving out, and no will to live. i wish i knew sooner. goodbye all.

[artificialqueens]

just the two of us (hogwarts au) part eleven - shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - i’d like to apologize for the wait, things have been crazy and as ive said 83675345 times, I’m moving house (on friday!! yikes) so im very busy. however, i finished!! <3

i want to formally dedicate this chapter (and any others) to the heartbreaking anon who told me this fantasy world helped them escape their real life tragedy with their mother. whoever you are, my heart goes out to you and i hope that you enjoy this. <3 <3 <3

Thankfully, Alaska’s stay in the infirmary was short lived. According to what Dela had told her, she’d passed out for twenty four hours, during which time the purple hue of her skin had faded back into her usual rosy pink complexion. The antidote had done wonders for her, meaning she wasn’t going to be stuck with a slight sensation of nausea or dizziness unlike the other champions. She’d stayed overnight, passed out, and would be out in just a short while, whereas Phi Phi and poor Kim were going to be sick for a little while longer.

“-she was never out of this place yesterday, I swear sometimes I had to push her right through the doors to make sure she left. She was definitely determined that you didn’t wake up alone.” Dela was saying, bustling around the room as she chatted away to Alaska. “She’ll be upset that she missed you waking up. Dedicated, that one.”

Alaska craned her neck to look at the sheer amount of gifts surrounding her. They weren’t all from Sharon, obviously – some were from Willam, Courtney, Jinkx, and even just a few random admirers from the school wanting to congratulate her on her win. Perhaps it was a little self-centred of her, but Alaska wouldn’t have minded waking up every day to flowers, chocolate, and little novelty magic gifts.

“Speak of the devil and she shall appear. Back again, Needles?”

Alaska sat up as Sharon entered the room, delighting in how her girlfriend’s face lit up at the sight of her awake. Despite looking messy – her robe was slipping off of her shoulders, her skirt was rucked up, exposing some of her pale white thigh, and her hair was completely dishevelled – the huge smile that entered her face upon spotting Alaska made her look impossibly beautiful. As quickly as she could, she drew up beside Alaska and took her hand in her own.

“I’m so glad you’re not purple anymore!” She greeted, her cheeks flushed as she tried to catch her breath. “I was beginning to think I’d have a purple girlfriend forever, and whilst purple is a pretty colour I prefer you when you’re your normal beautiful self.”

She paused, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. “I’ve just ran from Care of Magical Creatures, it was – it was chaotic.”

Alaska grinned, using her thumb to clean a smudge of mud from Sharon’s cheek. “Oh yeah? Anything exciting happen?”

“Of course!” Sharon enthused. “We’ve had this huge influx of Blast-Ended Skrewts and they’re so fun – I may have burnt my wrist handling one of them but they’re kind of ugly cute? I don’t know. But we had so much fun learning about their care and getting hands on! It’s been – it’s been so good.”

Alaska couldn’t help giggling. “Babe, slow down. I’m not going anywhere, you can breathe. Did you take care of your burn?”

Sharon shrugged. “Burns aren’t important. I’ll tell you what is important, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You!” Sharon was practically bouncing. “You won the first task! I knew you could do it, I told everyone you could. I’m so proud of you! Come here, get here now.”

Alaska swung her legs out of bed, springing to her feet so that she could meet Sharon’s lips and wrap her arms around her. Although she was still a bit weak, she simply clung to Sharon and allowed her strength to keep the two of them upright as they embraced. She was fairly certain that Sharon’s arms were the only reason she was still on her feet as she felt herself melt a little into the familiar touch.

“Listen, listen.” Sharon began, holding Alaska at arm’s length and forcing her to look up at her. “You and I are going on a proper date. I’m taking you out. Got it?”

Alaska nodded, smiling so hard her cheeks started to ache.

“And I mean a proper date.” Sharon continued. “I’m not going to break any rules to get us there, I won’t get drunk and fight anybody – it’s gonna be you and me, doll. You and me.”

If Alaska had been weak before, she was positively helpless now. Her heart felt swollen, thudding in the centre of her chest and threatening to burst right through her ribcage. A real date? What would that entail? Despite not knowing, the thought still sent her reeling with excitement. The idea of having Sharon to herself – not to be interrupted by Phi Phi, or Professor Visage, or any of their friends – was beyond belief.

“When?” She found herself asking, almost without realizing. “Soon?”

Sharon’s eyes were sparkling. “Tonight.” She breathed. “They’re opening up Hogsmeade so all the new kids can explore, and I’ve heard of this cute little place we can go. You down?”

“Are you kidding?” Alaska said. “Of course I am!”

The smile that made its way onto Sharon’s face was positively electrifying. Just like before, her whole face lit up with pure, unadulterated joy; an expression Alaska had missed seeing. It suited her more than she’d ever know. Alaska lifted a hand to brush a curl of displaced white hair away from Sharon’s face, her eyes zeroing in on the exposed gap in her front teeth.

“You’re so cute,” She murmured, her fingers threading through Sharon’s hair as her free hand pulled the Slytherin even closer. “Have I ever told you that?”

Sharon hummed appreciatively. “I don’t know… remind me again?”

“You’re so cute,” Alaska repeated. “You better hurry up and kiss me before I lose my mind.”

“As you wish, pumpkin.”

Sharon happily obliged, meeting Alaska’s lips first with a smile before actually kissing her. As always, they didn’t have long before they were interrupted yet again.

“Uh, ladies? I have patients here, you might want to stop doing that for a hot minute.” Dela chimed in, bouncing towards them with her usually bubbly attitude.

Alaska grinned. “Does that mean I can go?”

Dela considered her for a moment, before nodding. “Yes, I don’t see why not. Unless you’re wanting some safe sex pamphlets from me, I don’t expect I’ll be seeing either of you in here for a while.”

“Dela!” Sharon exclaimed, her pale cheeks colouring. “Oh my – okay, we’re leaving. Let’s go.”

Alaska couldn’t see her own face, but Sharon’s had turned a beautiful shade of flaming ketchup, the colour accented by her contrasting black and white hair. She began to gather up some of the gifts Alaska had been given, incanting some of them reversibly smaller so that they could be carried easily. Within minutes, the pair had gathered up everything and made their way out of the infirmary, Alaska noting with a hint of amusement that Sharon’s face was still scarlet.

Stepping out of the infirmary was like stepping back into reality – a quick transition from the warmth and quiet to the chatter and chaos of the school environment. Most of the students were on their way to dormitories or common rooms, or just meeting friends somewhere on the grounds, with lessons having finished half an hour or so ago. Alaska was glad to have escaped the between-lesson rush, despite now being one of the older ones with strength and status enough to push through the crowd of first and second years. It was a little quieter than she’d expected, but still loud and full of energy as always.

Sharon led the way through most of the students – they tended to part when they saw her – clearing a neat little path leading inside the castle walls. The biting autumnal wind ceased as they came inside, as did a lot of the noise. The quiet made it easier to converse.

“So… when are you taking me out?” Alaska flirted, batting her eyelashes and dragging out the end of each word unnecessarily.

Sharon laughed, her cheeks still flushed. “I was thinking at dinnertime? Whilst everyone else is eating, we’ll be able to go out and get ahead of the traffic.”

“I like it.” Alaska replied. “This is exciting. I feel like a real couple now.”

“Only the best for my champion.” Sharon smiled proudly. “Okay, bleugh, that was disgustingly cheesy. But you get it.”

Alaska nudged her elbow gently, careful not to knock anything she was carrying, and blew a kiss. In truth, it still hadn’t sunk in yet. Alaska – slightly scared of heights, so-called dumb blonde, terrible at potions, clumsier than a newborn deer, more unsteady on a broom than a drunken fifth year – had managed to win in the first Triwizard task. It didn’t seem real. Part of her was still convinced she had dreamt it all, and she’d wake up in her dorm after imagining it all, but the thumping in her chest was very much real. The feeling of the wind through her hair, the crowd screaming below. That was very, very real. It was pure elation.

Alaska was lifted out of her thoughts by Professor Visage, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere and materialized in front of the pair. Thankfully, she didn’t look angry or serious, so Alaska was fairly sure that Sharon wasn’t in trouble, but then again she never knew with Sharon. If she wasn’t in trouble, there was still a chance she’d find a way to get herself into it. It was a polyamorous relationship – Alaska, Sharon, and Trouble with a capital T.

“Sharon! Just the witch I’ve been looking for.” Professor Visage greeted, rather cheerfully.

Sharon’s eyebrows rose. “I love hearing that. Makes my day, it really does.”

“Alright, Miss Sass, tone it down. Anyway, I was sent to come get you by Professor Ru, you’ve got a meeting with the two of us and Professor Lake.”

Next to Alaska, Sharon visibly deflated. “Well, shit. How long is it gonna take? I kinda have dinner plans tonight.”

Professor Visage thought for a moment. “Probably only half an hour, max. You’ll be out by four at the latest. That okay with you?”

Sharon nodded. “That’s perfect. Alaska, are you okay with carrying all this on your own?”

It took a few minutes to reshuffle everything so that Alaska could accommodate it, and with a few helpful charms from Professor Visage she ended up enchanting some of the gifts so they would follow her up to her dorm. Sharon pressed a fleeting kiss to Alaska’s cheek before following Professor Visage to the office she’d practically been living in, and Alaska continued on her way up to her dorm.

The common room was full of people when she made her way in, obscuring her face with all her gifts to avoid having to converse with anyone. Of course, she knew that many congratulations were in order and pretty soon everyone would want to say something to her, but if she could just dump everything in her room then she’d be more than willing to bask in the attention. Thankfully, the students seemed to notice this, and she made it up the stairs and into her room without any interruption.

She threw everything down on the bed, totally haphazard, and flung herself down next to it all. She’d have to sort through it all later – she could see flowers, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, and dozens of other tiny gifts. Despite lacking the energy to actually move and open anything, there were still a few cards she could reach and have a read through.

Alaska, I couldn’t be more proud of you. Now I get to brag that my girlfriend is beautiful, funny and champion of a world-renowned magic competition. I knew you could do it, pumpkin. I can’t wait to watch you snatch that trophy. I’ll be there cheering for you the way you’ve always cheered for me. Lots of love and kisses, Sharon.

Alaska hugged the card to her chest, fully aware of how stupid she must have looked. Sharon’s handwriting was impeccably neat, an almost traditional-looking script with short letters and high tails. Was it weird to even love somebody’s handwriting? Had Alaska really fallen that hard? It was disgusting.

To Alaska – you won some shit.                From Willam.

Short, sweet, succinct. If anything could sum up the Pureblood, it was that card, paired with her no-nonsense, printed lettering.

Willam’s card is stupid! Well done, girl!!! We were all rooting for you 100% and we’re so happy for you!!!! Keep it up babe!!!!!! Love from Courtney!

Another one perfectly encapsulating the essence of her friend. Courtney, little petite Courtney, practically was a human exclamation mark. It was no wonder every sentence ended with one – it only served to make Alaska read the words in her shrill Aussie voice.

You’ve made your school proud. I knew you would. Good job, Alaska. From Professor Visage.

There were so many – ones from Jinkx, from other students she didn’t know, even a few more teachers. Each one was touching, even if most of them were just insincere messages scribbled onto a piece of paper. The fact that people had gone through and made the effort to even give her a card meant a lot.

Forcing herself up from the bed, lest she got drowsy and dozed off again, Alaska sprang upwards after a couple of minutes and headed back out into the Ravenclaw common room, looking around for someone who could act as a distraction. Before she could find anyone, she felt a hand tap her elbow and a loud voice squawked at her from behind.

“Lasky! What’s up, girl?!”

It was Detox, the girl from Beauxbaton who she’d been paired with in Potions. Her makeup was almost obscenely colourful - a whirlwind of neon - but nevertheless it seemed to work with her larger-than-life personality and overall look. Alaska smiled brightly and turned to face her properly.

“Hey Detox! I’m good, I’m good, you?”

Detox nodded. “I’m great… Phi Phi is still in your infirmary so I haven’t had to deal with her rage yet. Can’t wait for that.”

Alaska winced. “Oh, Divine. She fought hard, though. It could’ve been anyone’s game.”

“True, true.” Detox mused. “Still, you’ve seen her temper. I’d avoid her, if I were you. I know she’ll try and seek out a fight.”

“Good call. I’m pretty sure Sharon would flip her shit if Phi Phi was anywhere near me anyway.”

She smiled at the memory, of how fiercely Sharon had defended her, both in her presence at the Three Broomsticks and in her Defence Against The Dark Arts class. It had only been a short while since those encounters; it was early November, and any last shred of summer had shrivelled up along with the leaves scattered around the grounds that crunched underfoot. Even so, it felt like they’d come a long way.

After all, that night in the bar was the night they made it official. Alaska cringed internally at their stupid declarations, but at the time it had been the perfect mixture of kitsch and camp and fun that the two shared. Nothing had made her happier than finally having a proper label on what had been uncertain for quite a few months.

For the last few months of their fifth year, just a little while after coming out, Alaska had become a little more daring. Flirty, if you will. When she noticed Sharon looking, she winked. Anytime Sharon made her laugh, she clung on that little bit tighter to her arm, and of course it had the desired effect. Things progressed, with Alaska excitedly updating Willam and Courtney at every turn, but it never quite got where she wanted to. They had kissed, sure – not like how they kissed after the Three Broomsticks, but still – and they were exclusive, but it wasn’t a relationship. They were both kind of suspended. Waiting for something.

“That’s probably a good thing!” Detox responded, zapping Alaska back into reality. “I don’t know what’s gotten into Phi Phi, at least you have someone to defend you. She was never that angry before she came here.”

Alaska frowned. Weird. “Maybe it’s just the stress of being in a whole new place and competing.”

“Probably.” Detox shrugged. “Anyway, she’d kill me if she knew I was saying this, but congrats on your win. You celebrating at all?”

“Going out for dinner with… Oh, there she is.” Alaska grinned, spotting Sharon’s head amongst the sea of Ravenclaws. Her green tie and distinctive hair made her stick out like a sore thumb.

She’d freshened up a little, that much was clear. Her hair had been brushed out and untangled, and her makeup reapplied – it always tended to come off during Care of Magical Creatures. Although she hadn’t changed out of her uniform, Alaska could tell she’d made an effort to smarten it up a little bit other than the rolled-up sleeves. In all fairness, it wasn’t like Alaska could expect full uniform compliance from Sharon this late in the game.

“Hey, you’re not allowed in here, Needles!” A voice yelled, indistinguishable from the mass of heads.

Sharon looked around a little, trying to spot who it was. “Do I look bothered?” She shot back, before shaking her head and moving towards Alaska. “There you are. Oh, who’s this?”

There was a dangerous edge to Sharon’s voice as she eyed Detox with suspicion. The Beauxbaton girl looked a little bit uncomfortable at the interrogation, and rightly so. Sharon’s words were innocent enough, but her tone was cold and her eyes were piercing.

For a fleeting second, she looked just like Lady Needles.

Alaska was quick to dispel the tension. “This is Detox. Don’t scare her away; she’s nice, I promise.”

Just like that, the fierce expression on Sharon’s face was gone. “If you say so. Detox, do you mind if I steal Alaska from you?”

Detox shrugged, still slightly put-out but doing her best not to show it. “You’re not really asking, are you? I don’t have a choice here, do I?”

Sharon laughed appreciatively. “No, you don’t. I’m afraid she’s mine and I have to take her, but if you have any complaints you can probably find me in detention.”

Detox cackled, and with that, Sharon took Alaska’s hand and began to lead her out of the Ravenclaw common room. The Slytherin was practically running, dragging Alaska behind her as she weaved through corridors and in and out of random hallways. It took a little while for Alaska to realize where they were headed, but soon enough she began to recognise her surroundings as the entrance to the Slytherin common room, leading up the dorms. Alaska hadn’t actually ever seen Sharon’s dorm room; she knew of the girls in it, but had never been aside. When they were younger, the group had always hung out in the Ravenclaw dorm, and in recent times Sharon had taken to staying in there rather than her own whenever she could get away with it. Maybe it was silly for her to feel that way, but Alaska was a little bit excited.

“I have someone I want you to meet properly.” Sharon told her, before stopping outside a tall black door. With some caution, she poked her head round, then flung the door wide open as she saw it was empty. “Come on in.”

The room was identical to Alaska’s, with the exception of the green bedding, which was a slight disappointment. Regardless, Alaska took it all in, noting that Sharon’s bed had the curtains drawn all the way around it, obscuring her small living area from the rest of the room. In one swift motion, Sharon parted the curtains and was instantly knocked to the floor by the same gigantic mound of fluff that had interrupted Alaska’s Ancient Runes lesson a short while ago.

“Sharon!” Alaska cried out, almost instinctively. The panic faded, however, when she heard Sharon half-laughing, half-groaning.

“Cerrone, must you always greet me like this?” She grumbled, stroking the black-and-white fur awkwardly with one hand. “Fat cat. Someone’s been feeding you too much. Alright, get off.”

She sat up and beamed cheerily in Alaska’s direction. “This is Cerrone, you saw him in the Pensieve. He’s fatter and older and stupider now.”

Alaska got onto her knees, joining Sharon on the floor to coo over Cerrone, who had flopped onto the rug and stretched himself out. He purred contently as Alaska started to stroke his side, smoothing some of the matted fur down.

“He’s such an attention whore.” Sharon said, distinctively proud. “Look at him. Purebred Kneazle, about eight years old. I’ve had him for five years now.”

Alaska smiled. “You rescued him, right?” She asked, watching as her girlfriend scratched her pet lovingly behind his ears.

“Yeah, I did.” Sharon sounded vaguely nostalgic. “You saw that he was pretty banged up when I found him. He was the only one I found that was alive. I had to save him somehow.”

It was admirable. Alaska couldn’t forget the image of Sharon she’d seen in the Pensieve – wide eyed, her clothes and skinny fingers stained with blood, clutching Cerrone to her chest like a lifeline. She’d been so young to be so courageous, standing up in front of so many people like that just for the life of one creature. It made sense now why Sharon had chosen Care of Magical Creatures as part of her options two years prior, even if it hadn’t at the time. Alaska remembered Willam cocking an eyebrow and saying, “you want to play in a fucking pig pen for an hour and get qualifications for it?!”

Of course, back when they were fourteen they didn’t have any ideas as to why she’d pick a subject like that, other than how much she enjoyed the outdoors. The knowledge suddenly dawning on her, Alaska smiled to herself as she continued stroking Cerrone.

“He’s saved me more times than I could ever save him.” Sharon broke the silence, gazing down tenderly at the overgrown cat. “Kneazles, they… they can detect dangerous people. People you can’t trust, people who might be evil. They get aggressive when they sense those kind of people, and protect their owner.”

She looked up at Alaska. “I can’t tell you the amount of times he’s lashed out at my mother. I owe him.”

Sharon went quiet for a minute, seemingly realizing the weight of her words, before lightening up a little bit. “That’s why I let him have so many treats. I guess it’s my fault he’s spoilt and lazy.”

Alaska grinned, leaning down to rest her head against Cerrone’s side. “I could just go to sleep here. I wouldn’t even complain if he clawed my face off.”

“Are you kidding?” Sharon laughed. “He loves you! He has good taste, this one. I approve.”

They spent a while on the floor with Cerrone, laughing and making obscene jokes of sore knees and old age. The whole situation, despite being completely new, felt familiar and strangely normal to Alaska. It felt like a domestic routine that she could easily fall into, and the thought made her heart flutter and break all at the same time.

Domesticity. It felt so natural with Sharon, yet the Slytherin girl had never experienced it before. She didn’t know what it was like to live amongst parents who loved one another, children who played together, a family that felt safe and secure. Alaska’s childhood had been so starkly different to Sharon’s. More than anything, she just wanted to bundle Sharon up in her arms and take her home.

She imagined introducing Sharon to her family. Willam and Courtney had met her family, and they’d all gotten along well, but she and Sharon had never really gotten to that stage. They were just friends, and then they were at an odd crossroads of flirting, and then they’d started dating and somehow Alaska had never found the time.

How would her family react to such an enigma of a person? Her mom would love Sharon, naturally. She was easily pleased with charm and good manners, and it wouldn’t take her long to get past her unconventional look. Then again, it was impossible to guess how anyone would react to Sharon. She was unpredictable like that.

It was around half past five when Alaska finally left, making her way back to her own dormitory as quickly as she could so she could change in time for her date. As she walked, her mind tried to mentally replicate her wardrobe and pick out what she could wear. As ever, her memory failed her and she couldn’t even conjure up a picture of a single thing she owned.

“Alaska!”

Both Willam and Courtney trilled her name in unison, springing up from Courtney’s bed where they were sat to smother her in a hug. Alaska laughed as her face was buried in a mass of blonde hair, clinging tight to her friends before managing to fight them off.

“I don’t have long, please don’t ruin my hair,” She teased, scrunching the mass on top of her head and starting towards her wardrobe. As expected, both blondes gave her the same expression; eyes wide, eyebrows raised, mouths open.

“Ooh, bitch!” Willam called out. “Got somewhere to be?”

Alaska grinned. “Sharon’s taking me out for dinner. Like, a real date.” She turned around, considering a few options in her wardrobe before pulling one out. “Does this say ‘classy girlfriend going on a dinner date’ to you?”

She wasn’t exactly sure why she was asking Courtney and Willam, of all people – Willam was the exact opposite of classy in her look and behaviour, and Courtney being part-Veela made anything and everything look classy, effortlessly. Between them they were absolutely useless.

“I like it. Doesn’t show off nearly enough body, but I guess that’s the point.” Willam mused, looking at the dress thoughtfully.

Courtney swatted at her. “Shut up! It’s really pretty, you should wear it.”

In all honesty, Alaska had forgotten that the little blue dress existed. She had maybe worn it once for some fancy party and then stowed it back on the wardrobe on the hanger, never to emerge again. It reached just above her knees, and was mostly plain aside from a few tasteful sparkling embellishments around the neckline. Sharon would like it – Sharon liked nearly everything she owned. After some scrutiny, she decided it was date-worthy and took it into the bathroom to change.

“ARE YOU HIDING HICKEYS FROM US IN THERE?!” Willam yelled indignantly as Alaska disappeared from the room. “IS THAT WHY YOU’RE IN THE BATHROOM?!”

Alaska laughed, banging her fist on the door to shock them both. “It’s called privacy, you voyeuristic slut!”

“Ooh, she’s got you there!” came Courtney’s response, before she emitted a yelp that indicated Willam had physically retaliated to the remark.

It took a minute for Alaska to get herself into the dress, contorting her body into unnatural positions to try and reach the zipper, but finally she managed. After that it was just a case of throwing on a touch of makeup and fixing her hair, and she was ready to go.

“Classy girlfriend going on a dinner date?” Alaska asked again, emerging nervously from the bathroom and presenting herself to her friends.

The reactions were somewhat mixed, but definitely positive. Courtney’s mouth dropped open, and Willam wolf-whistled appreciatively before nodding her approval. Alaska continued to post, rolling her hand to gesture for more in-depth feedback.

“I’ll bite. It’s hot.” Willam grinned wolfishly. “Trying to get laid or something?”

Alaska flashed her middle finger. “Bitch! You’re not even the first person to suggest that today.”

Instantly, the blonde’s eyes lit up, as if she were about to ask for more details she could inevitably taunt Alaska with. Thankfully, Courtney cut in before she could, exclaiming, “More like classy wife going on a dinner date! She’s gonna wanna marry you after this!”

-

On time for the first time in her life, Alaska met Sharon by the beginning of the walk into Hogsmeade at six thirty, the time they agreed on. Sharon must’ve come early, and was stood waiting for Alaska as she approached. Slowing down a little, Alaska allowed herself to appreciate the effort that it was clear Sharon had put in. Her hair was teased and fluffed up a little, swept over one shoulder, and her black dress was long, with a deep V-neck and full length sleeves. Her jacket was draped over one shoulder. As she got closer, she could see that Sharon was either wearing blush, or her cheeks were just pink, but regardless of which one it was, the little pop of colour made her look strangely cute. Alaska resisted the urge to pinch her cheeks.

“Well don’t you just look the Daily Prophet’s Witch of the Year,” She greeted her girlfriend, entwining their fingers and pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead.

Sharon leaned into her touch and smiled. “More like a page three witch with this neckline. I had no idea it was this low, I’m so sorry. You look absolutely breathtaking.”

“Please,” Alaska told her. “If you think I’m bothered about a low neckline, you don’t know me at all.”

Sharon swatted at her arm playfully before offering her hand, beginning the walk along the road to Hogsmeade.

“I almost never come this way,” Sharon commented. “I always use tunnels and passages. This way is so pretty.”

It wasn’t like she was wrong – the rapid approach of autumn had given the village an entirely new, warm aura. Fragrant leaves crunched under their feet, and bare vines curled along walls and archways, clinging like earth-borne snakes seeking warmth. Everything was awash in gold and orange and brown, the setting sun heightening the enthralling glow of the area. There was a slight chill in the air, as came with the threat of winter resting in the frosted laurels at the tips of the trees, but overall the atmosphere was soft and tinted with romance.

Noticing her slight shivering, Sharon stopped walking and took her jacket from her shoulder. “Put this on, you’re freezing. Come here.”

Smiling gratefully, Alaska slipped her arms into the warm leather, embracing the familiar scent of smoke and perfume that permeated the material. Like most of Sharon’s clothes, it fit Alaska perfectly. Touched by such a small gesture, Alaska squeezed her girlfriend’s hand and kept walking, soaking up as much as the evening as she could.

“It’s just through here,” Sharon pushed some brambles aside, moving out of the way so Alaska could go through first. “I know this bit is a dump, but the place is gorgeous, I promise.”

By now they had moved out of the area that was usually frequented by students – the shops, taverns, bars and the Shrieking Shack having long since been passed – and had moved more into the residential area, where many witches and wizards had chosen to isolate themselves from the muggle world and create their own community. It was only a few minutes further that they had to walk before a building began to unfold in front of them, the fancy scripting on the front reading The Artemisia.

“Sharon, this is… It’s beautiful.” Alaska murmured, staring around as she stepped inside. “How did you afford this place? How did you find this place?”

Sharon bit her lip, smiling. “Pumpkin, my surname is Needles… I can get us anywhere. And you’ll have to thank Raja for the recommendation, she told me about this place. Only the best for my champion. See, I did it again and I didn’t make any vomit noises. This is a real date.”

Alaska laughed. “You’re so stupid…” She leaned in for a kiss, softly pecking Sharon’s warm lips. “I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it.” Sharon responded, before smiling up at a waiter who had appeared before them.

“Sharon Needles?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. Sharon nodded. “Wonderful. We have your table all set up, if you can just follow me.”

Alaska shot Sharon an excited look, squeezing her hand a few times as they walked behind the waiter towards a privately laid-out table. Even the napkins looked as though they were more expensive than everything Alaska owned put together. Gold trimming? How was it possible for everything in this place to have gold trimming? It was luscious and a little bit ludicrous.

“And here we are,” The waiter spoke up again, pulling the chairs out for each witch to sit down and presenting two full glasses with his wand. “The Butterbeer is on the house. We hope you have a splendid evening.”

Sharon waited until the waiter had left the table before starting to giggle. Her efforts to hide it went amiss; the hands clapped over her mouth did nothing to subdue the shaking of her shoulders. Thoroughly amused just by the sight of her, Alaska reached across the table to grab one of Sharon’s hands as she started to laugh herself.

“I’m sorry,” Sharon managed, her shoulders still bouncing with suppressed giggles. “I just… splendid. We’re going to have a splendid evening.”

She managed to steel herself by avoiding Alaska’s gaze. “Splendid. What a great word. God, I haven’t drank Butterbeer in a while.”

Alaska watched as she took and sip and then pulled a face. “Shit. That’s sweeter than I remember. Is this shit made of sugar?”

The waiter returned moments later with two menus, Alaska running her nails along the thick leather cover before looking inside. Although trivial, Alaska thought it was actually kind of thrilling to be sat inside a restaurant like this, debating meals with Sharon and enjoying the atmosphere. For the second time that day, it hit her that Sharon probably didn’t do this very often, if at all. Alaska and her family went out for dinner a lot, especially around occasions such as Christmas and birthdays. Sharon, obviously, wouldn’t.

After having their orders taken, Alaska settled back into her seat, regarding her girlfriend with a grin. “So, is this where you take all your girls?”

Sharon laughed, the joke clearly taking her by surprise. “Oh, yeah. All my girls come here. This is where I bring all my hoes.”

“Are you calling me a hoe?!” Alaska exclaimed, mock offended.

Sharon shrugged. “Maybe. Why, you wanna act like one? Dress like one? Can’t say I’d mind.”

She stopped to fan herself with the menu. “We’re way too flirty this evening. Here was me thinking we’d have a nice celebratory date, and look what we’ve turned it into.”

“You started it.”

“You’re such a liar!”

“As if! You know you started it!”

“I didn’t start anything!”

“Yes you did!”

“Shut up or I’ll kiss you.”

“Shut up or I won’t kiss you.”

Alaska smirked, knowing she’d gotten the last laugh. Glancing up at Sharon, she saw the Slytherin had bitten back her lips in an attempt to visually draw attention to her silence, and was blinking innocently behind her lashes. The facade was anything but believable – maybe due to the fact that Alaska knew Sharon too well, and could identify the mischievous twinkle beneath her eyes – and she laughed at the idea that she’d fall for it.

“Okay, I’m already bored. You can talk now. Open your big mouth again.”

To her surprise, Sharon simply shook her head, remaining silent as she tapped her cheek with one finger. Alaska recognised her gesture and rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t realise it before, but you are a toddler.” She stated, leaning across the table to press a kiss to the spot she’d been tapping. Satisfied, Sharon’s face split into a grin and her cheeks went pink.

“And now I can talk. Honestly, I wish real curses were like that. Our curses are like,” She picked up her knife, waving it around as though it were a wand, “Extreme pain! Manipulation! Death!”

Alaska chuckled as she continued. “And then, in the old fucking Disney stories, it’s like,” This time she dropped the knife, simply pointing with her finger, “Sleep for a long time and get woken up by a kiss. True love will solve this one! A candle is your friend!”

Sharon pulled a face. “Anyway. I’m getting off track, aren’t I? I didn’t bring us here to sit and talk about fucking Disney curses. Some punk I am.”

“Who’d have thought it?” Alaska joked. “Sharon Needles, notoriously badly-behaved Slytherin – total Disney slut.”

“Oh, you bitch.” Sharon grinned. “I’ve never even seen a Disney movie.”

Alaska let her mouth drop open, widening her eyes to exaggerate her reaction. “You haven’t – but I – and you – Sharon! You’ve never seen a Disney movie?!”

“Alaska, when the fuck do you think I had time to sit down on a couch and watch fucking Disney movies?” Sharon asked, her voice light. “I spent my childhood rescuing a magical cat and hiding from evil parents. Which I suppose is ironically Disney-esque.”

Alaska shook her head in disbelief. “Okay, remind me that we’re watching Disney movies at some point. We’re gonna work our way through them. Your delayed childhood begins now.”

Sharon winced. “Oh, boy. I’m thinking of breaking my no-alcohol rule already. Goddammit, Alaska.”

“What happened to ‘my champion’, huh?”

Blue eyes met mocking green ones. “Don’t. Even. Start.”

[promptistrashqueen]

A Royal Commission (7)

@fleetstreetfatality

Prompto can’t believe his luck when Noctis shows up for his next session an hour early. Not because he’s happy about it, though he really wants to be.

It’s been a shit day and Prompto was looking forward to seeing the Prince but he didn’t want Noctis to see this part of his life, not now...probably not ever honestly. He can’t do anything about the woman though so he just has to let the train wreck happen anyways.

He’s standing with his arms crossed, Charlie and Loqi hovering behind him, visible but quiet as his backup as the dark haired lady loses it.

“...on my baby girl! Desecration of the body won’t allow her to ascend when she passes and you’re the one who’s damned her! I will be seeing you in court for the intent to harm and spread of malicious and harmful material!”

Noctis, standing in the doorway goes from bewilderment to glaring anger when he figures out what the fuck is going on. Despite Prompto’s quick head shake he pushes past the woman and stands beside Prompto, brows furrowed and mouth twisting into an expression of distaste.

“The court won’t hear you, your daughter is an adult if she came in without you and maybe if you disagree with her decision to have art on her body, you should talk to her.”

He sees the way the woman recoils when she realizes who he is, but the shock is short lived.

“I see what this is. You’re going to protect him, even though he’s perpetuating evil in this city! I’ve always said you and that father of yours weren’t worthy of the crystal, that it should be someone pure who’s willing to rid the streets of filth like him.”

Prompto catches Noctis’ shoulder when he steps forward and it only fuels the woman as her nostrils flare.

“Disgusting, he’s befouled you hasn’t he? Not with his poisonous “art” either...You’re a sin-”

She doesn’t get any further, wherever her tirade is heading. Prompto’s had more than enough and so have the other two.

“Get out of my shop. Get out and don’t you dare come back. I have every right to call the police and I will not hesitate to do so if you don’t leave. Prince Noctis has nothing to do with this and if you wish to take us to court, that’s you. Now get. The. fuck. Out.”

Prompto’s not entirely certain what his expression looks like but it feels taut and rigid, his teeth clenched around his words and his eyes narrow. He hopes they’re still blue, but no one should ever, ever be allowed to insult Noctis.

The woman looks at the four of them, harrumphs, and turns on her heel.

“Fuck...I fuck…” Prompto’s hands are shaky with anger still as he runs them through his hair.

“Today’s been shit here, any better up there in the big time Noct?” Charlie breaks the tension with his calm voice and Noctis shrugs.

“Not really? We keep getting unannounced visits from Accordo and Niflheim and it’s making security crazy. That’s why I’m early, had to get out while I could.”

Prompto chuckles a little at that and sighs again, ignoring the way Loqi’s looking at him. He touches Noctis’ arm lightly and tips his head toward the back door, the Prince flashes him a smile and follows him back to his work room.

Noctis doesn’t waste time once they’re out of sight, he reaches and pulls Prompto against him. Prompto thinks about trying to resist for less than a second before he lets himself melt against Noctis’ warm body, hugging him back tightly. His fingers curl in the back of Noctis’ shirt and he huffs a breath that’s nearly a laugh.

“Long day?” Noctis asks conversationally, like he’s not saying it practically into Prompto’s hair. He rolls his eyes, not bothering to respond to that as he let’s the tension drain out of him.

“We can reschedule if you want the rest of the day off.”

Prompto does pull away at that, shaking his head and laughing a little, “Nah, working always helps me feel a little more put together, you know? Besides I might get beheaded if I make someone reschedule. I’ve got very important clients you know.”

He adds a little sniff, tilting his chin up and expecting Noctis to roll his eyes, but the Prince tilts his own head a little, his eyes a bit dark. He steps close, crowding Prompto toward the wall and making him swallow even though he feels a thrill as his heart jumps.

“More important than me?”

Noctis’ voice is pitched low and the joke is gone, leaving a playful sort of heat rolling off him. Prompto wants to be smooth and reply with some quip but his brain shorts out on him and all he manages is, “Maybe.”

He’s flushed though and his blue eyes are blown wide, he licks his bottom lip as Noctis steps closer, unaware how the swipe of his tongue makes the skin glisten. Noctis’ gaze focuses on the shine and he brings their mouths together, pressing Prompto against the wall.

Prompto spares a thought to the curtain but it’s mostly closed and Noctis’ mouth is warm and he lets his focus drop entirely to the Prince. His eyes slide shut and he cups Noctis’ face in one hand, sighing softly and allowing their tongues to meet. Noctis keeps the kiss soft and Prompto doesn’t rush it, letting the tide of warmth roll and break as the taste of the other man invades his senses.

If everytime they kiss is going to be like this Prompto’s pretty sure he’s going to need to hire someone to slap him or else he might start writing bad romance novels, because fuck, it’s good. Noctis tilts his head and licks further into his mouth and the thought sloughs off, leaving him groaning and pressing back against Noctis.

A harshly cleared throat forces them to part, though Noctis doesn’t bother to move back and Prompto can’t say he minds, though he is a little embarrassed. Loqi looks unimpressed as he fingers the curtain, unspoken remind to close the damn thing clear.

“If you’re not going to work on him, you might as well help close up so we can all get out of here sooner. Or I guess you could keep being lazy, since you’re the greatest and all.”

Prompto glares, because Loqi knows he’s being unfair with that last bit, “We’ll get to work then, leave the floors, it’s my turn to do them anyways.”

Loqi nods but doesn’t leave immediately, staring Prompto down for a long moment with a pinched sort of frown that leaves him grimacing.

Noctis watches him go and turns back to Prompto, raising an eyebrow as he takes a full step back, “Who spit in his stew?”

That startles a short laugh out of Prompto and he shakes his head, waving a hand, “ Who knows today? He’s right though, we’ve got work to do! Strip!”

Noctis rolls his eyes but shrugs out of his shirt, comfortable about it now, and takes his usual seat.

“Did you two ever-?”

It takes Prompto a moment but when he gets it he groans and slaps Noctis’ arm, “Technically? For a couple of months, but we didn’t work from the start and I think we only tried it because we have a uh...a shared past, sort of. I dunno? It was weird and the guy is an ass most the time. Now, no more questions I am arting!”

“Is that why it smells weird in here?”

“Noct?”

“Yeah?”

“Make that joke again I will ink a bag of dicks on you.”

When they’re finished it’s late, nearing one in the morning and Prompto’s dead on his feet. It’s good he doesn’t have anything until noon the next day because he can feel the burn behind his eyes as he finishes mopping the floor, Noctis slouching over the waiting couch with his shirt rucked up to let air on his back.

Prompto groans as he pops his back, wheeling the dirty water bucket away and resolving to dump it tomorrow since the floor is still too wet to cross and he doesn’t want to track more than absolutely necessary.

“Doing alright Noct?”

He gets a grunt in response, but he’ll take it. They did a lot of work around Noctis’ spine and upper half of his scar today, finishing some of the geometrics and starting on the detailed spirals that extended up his shoulders. Prompto tries not to feel worried that there’s only one real session left and maybe a touch up.

He double checks he has everything and hums a little as he straightens the flyers by the couch.

“Okay! We can leave now! Thanks for stayin’ Noct.”

“No prob.”

Noctis yawns widely and Prompto shakes his head, he wonders if anyone would believe him if he told them what a sleepyhead the Prince was...probably just his guards.

They head onto the street as Prompto locks the big glass door and presses a small kiss to Noctis’ lips.

“See you soon?”

“I’m taking you home, no arguing.”

Prompto glares at him even as he bounces a little because he really, really liked the car. Noctis seems to pick up on the mild excitement because he smirks, actually fucking smirks.

“C’mon dude.”

Prompto opts not to say a word as Noctis leads him to a car, not the Aston Martin (totally not to his dissappointment, nope) but to a nice, normal mid-sized sedan. He sighs a little and gets in, noting the way Noctis winces as he settles into the seat.

“I probably shouldn’t technically be letting you drive but...the streets are pretty dead so?”

Noctis shrugs and flashes him a grin, “Here they are, not near my place. Guess I’ll have to crash on your couch.”

Prompto tries not to let his mouth hang open, he really does, but he could catch a few flies anyways. He wasn’t going to let Noctis in for Astral’s sake!

“I mean, for my safety.”

Shit. Can’t argue with that he supposes.

“Fiiiine. Not the couch though, you can have the bed! I’ll take the couch, or something.”

Noctis laughs and shakes his head, pulling out, “We can fight about it when we get there. Im too tired to use my words. Directions?”

Prompto’s house is not in a bad part of town, it’s not in a particularly good part either. They park in his little used driveway and he’s especially glad it was a short drive when he notes Noctis’ steps a little less even than usual. Not that he hasn’t noticed the way the Prince favors one side a bit anyways, like he hasn’t realized that the scar is only part of the damage.

He shakes the thought and hurries to let Noctis into the tiny house. It’s enough space for him but he’s sure it’s probably the size of Noctis’ whole bedroom. There’s a small living room, tiny kitchen, single bedroom and a bathroom with a fair sized claw footed tub. It’s what put this place ahead of some of the others, well, that, and the pretty little backyard.

Noctis though doesn’t seem to mind the size, he smiles at the inside, happy colors and posters, Prompto’s drawings scattered around and more photographs pinned to every open surface.

“It’s pretty clean for someone not expecting guests.” Noctis wiggles his eyebrows and Prompto snorts.

“I hate to see what you think messy is dude, I really do.”

Noctis shrugs and whatever he was going to say is cut off by a large yawn and a grumbling noise as he rubs at his cheek.

“Right, uh...bedroom.”

Prompto shows Noctis his room, glad that the bed is made at least. Noctis smiles again at the stuffed chocobo sitting on the bed and Prompto thinks, when they’re more awake, he’ll tell Noctis about some of the shit that means something to him.

As it is, Noctis tugs off his shirt and is reaching for his pants when Prompto coughs, “Uh, let me grab a pillow and blanket and I’ll leave!”

Noctis blinks at him and then nods, still undoing his belt and Prompto hurries to grab what he needs as well as his sleep pants. He sets an extra set on the bed and moves to go back to the couch when Noctis, in only his boxers, catches him.

“Goodnight Prom.” He mutters, pressing a sleepy, sloppy kiss to Prompto’s lips and smiling tiredly.

“Night Noctis.” Prompto answers, watching him stumble to the bed and, in a perfected move, grab the blanket, flop down and burrito himself as a fluid motion.

Prompto’s impressed, but mostly because Noctis is practically snoring when he hits the lights and heads for his fortunately comfy couch.

[noskyatall]

fuck it i need to rant and i have no one people dont even know that i have this account excellent if jen was still in the office id call for phone coachig bci know im gonna hurt myself a lot today a lot im losing it i need weed but i cant im not allowed LOL i literally want to be dead and if i could do it rn i would i would i would i want out i do not want life no one CARES WJO CARES WHO CARES AND THE ONE WHO DID WAS BABYSITTING ME AND SHE GOT BORED AND OFF SHE WENT BITCH FUVK YOU FUCK YOU RUCK YO7 FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU TOO SARAH LITERALLY DIE YOU ENDED ME IM NOT OKAY I AM KOT FUCKING ALRIGHT I WANT TO DIE I NEED A BLADE I NEED PILLS I NEED A BLADE I NEED ANYTHING PILLS WEED ALCOHOL I DONY CARE I DONT WANT TO THINK ANYMORE GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE LET ME FI KING LEAVE WHY AM I HERE FUCK YOU IM NOTHING I DIDNT GO TO GROUP I SHOULD HAVE GONE OH MY GOD