#mostly sunset curve

[narcissusbrokenmirror]

i need to talk about Alex, Luke and Reggie and their families' dynamics.

We don't get a lot from the show apart from Luke and it's not that much either, when we think about it. But from Reggie and Alex? Crumbs of backstory. the references we got to their past from the show is that Reggie's parent were in a bad relationship and Alex's parent were homophobic. god bless the guy who decided to write books abt it bc i can't stress enough over not knowing abt their past.

So starting with Reggie, my favorite backstory, is that he had parents who were always fighting amd he also had a little brother, age not specified but i guess between 8-11, Steve admired Reggie and his band and Reggie kinda regretted not spending enough time w him bc of the band. idk thinking of Reggie as an older brother opens lot of possibilities for what his character would've become. also brings more of a reason why he's so goofy and lightheaded, it can be either a way to separate from, maybe, a figure of power for his brother, being held to a responsibility or something alike, i mean, none really knows how stuff were inside Reggie's house so there's no way to tell if they had been heavily neglected at some point. or maybe being optimistic and joyful was just the way he tried to find to make things lighter for his brother when he was around, maybe to his whole family when trying to keep them from starting a fight (we also dont know for how long reggie's parents have been fighting). either way, fascinates me.

Alex also intrigued me a little bit, but i liked to figure him out. I personally enjoy when fanfic writers make his parents religious or give him fear of coming out to his friends, but, just ain't real. From what I've read on the book, Alex's parents used to be supportive of the band and welcoming to his friends, they'd have sleepovers w the whole band, and be warm and welcoming. When Alex mentions being gay, he says he wouldn't sneak a guy he actually liked out of his window and wanted to bring this hypothetical guy through the front door like his older sister did w her boyfriends, this being the 90's its a pretty prideful statement for a gay teenager. But Kenny mentioned Alex is pride of himself and wouldn't hide it. So i don't think Alex got christian fever over his sexuality, neither did his parents. What i guess, is that Alex was the kid with "Cool Parents" that would let him be and do what he wanted, be supportive of him, Alex pretty much mentioned on the show he was always trustworthy (in rhetoric to Reggie never being believed as a kid). What also would explain how Alex can grow so confident of himself and expect to receive the same treatment his sister does. So the moment Alex came out, something he never took back, even when his parents didn't approved, it shifted the whole "modern cool parents" thing bc yeah, Alex can have a band, be a drummer (which is not everyone's favorite instrument to have at home), let his sister bring multiple boyfriends to their house, but if Alex wants to bring guys, he better do it far from their eyes. "do what you want, but not under my roof". Clearly, it affected him to have a family who was loving and supportive, just to find out that being gay was going to twist the way his parents saw and treated him like, and ofc that's not what Alex wanted, he wanted the warmth and the love he'd always received before. also, Alex being a young brother makes sense to why he's a little shit on the show.

Luke also has interesting background. Different from Alex, who had a family who supported his band (til they didn't anymore) and Reggie, who had a family who probably didn't cared, Luke had a family very much disapproving of his life dream, so much that i doubt they've met the boys personally, aside from Bobby bc he was Luke's oldest friend, since there's a moment on the book Alex asks where they are and its Luke's house, and they have been friends for years so its interesting Alex not knowing where Luke lives. i think Sunset Curve was just a part of his life that Luke didn't shared with his parents bc he knew it wouldn't be worth it. What doesn't mean Luke didn't wanted to share, he was trying to make it without his parents' support, getting a job to buy instruments and other stuff for example. And if Alex is not the religious link of the group, Luke definitely is, not only he makes mentions of Hell and Heaven, but his house has a huge cross on it, visible on the clip of Unsaid Emily, and i think that's why Luke, at the same time he doesn't want to talk of the past, is the one who feels more guilty about the way he left things with his mom. Boy got hard catholic guilt on his head even if Luke himself isn't really into religion.

I'm not gonna make myself long with Bobby, bc if Alex and Reggie left crumbs of backstory, Bobby left drops in the sun. but the book had some pretty cool details, he got three older brothers who are sport trifecta, and Bobby is the kid who only got to play in a band, he doesn't get a lot of attention from his parents and even Luke is his friend since they were kids and they started playing together, he also feels apart from the band, he also seems to care a lot about Luke since he wanted Luke to make up with his mom on the day of their show at the orpheum. So it does adds dimension to the character we see on the show.

[fullstcp]

i'm just gonna take this moment to say that Gina Porter is most definitely a boyband fanatic.

[yinza]

I had a dream the other week about these people fighting back against an assault from another world. Most of them weren’t experienced fighters, but average people who banded together (although Gimli was there because dreams).

This particular woman’s job was to throw a javelin through a dimensional portal, tethering the two worlds together and allowing the defenders to control where the fight happened. They later built a statue of her. In her day-to-day life, I think she owned a fabric shop.

Prints available through Inprnt!

[Image Description: A digital illustration of a woman preparing to throw a javelin through a portal. She is a fat, dark-skinned South Asian woman with long dark hair in a braid. She wears a navy blue crop top and dark reddish dhoti. We see her from behind, her left arm extended towards the portal while her right arm is reared back, holding a glowing white javelin which trails a tether on the ground behind her. The sky is mostly overcast with dark blue-grey clouds, but an intense sunset orange breaks through closer to the horizon. Through the glowing portal, the blue curve of another planet is visible. /end ID]

[seafoamsol]

The best years of my life...

... what I wouldn't give to have them back.

I had the great pleasure of working with @spiderscribe on a DeadCeptor work for the @tf-bigbang, which you can (and should!) read [ HERE ]!

Details and artist commentary under the cut!

Okay, first off, I just wanna say, thank you so much to @spiderscribe for picking up my very loose scribble and taking the jump. She's an absolute champ, and I IMPLORE you to read her writing. She did a knockout job on the fic, and guaranteed, these two pieces wouldn't have been so elaborate without her. If you're a fan of deadceptor, parallels, lovers to enemies to apocalyptic teammates to ???s, I'm sure you'll find that and more in there.

[ HERE ] is the link to that, if you missed it the first time around.

The background for the supermarket was a MASSIVE undertaking. I ended up blurring it in the final to keep the dream-like quality, but there is a lot happening there! Most of the time I spent on the background was (jokingly) complaining though.

Anyone who works retail will know the agony of customer-misplaced stock. The little canisters of energon additives seem like prime candidates to be placed willy-nilly.

The little warning sign... My favorite soda, apple sidra, has a carcinogen warning, so I'm familiar with it. It was slightly surprising to me that those warnings are not countrywide, despite the fact that they very clearly say "California Proposition 65", and well. Not something else, like "Federal" or whatever.

The bags of nuts and bolts below, I asked several people what flavor they would be, and I suppose I failed in my job, because I wanted the purple to be the "regular" flavor, and the green to be the "sour". But grape and lemon-lime work as well!

The tub is full of rust-sticks. I have no idea if that came across. My friends kept calling the individually wrapped ones slim jims, which I mean, I guess!

The car batteries... My idea was that they were similar to shots, in a way? So that's how I ended up with a battery with enough terminals to rival an international airport. It's also sunset-coloured, because, I don't know, that's what Party Flavor is to me.

Okay. The second illustration. This one was a headache, mostly due to my own lack of planning, and the fact that I lost the file for... basically everything I did, including the above illustration. So it was a bit of a rush job.

The background bots started off as these very vague silhouettes, which I'm a little proud of. Look at how nice and somewhat readable they are! Okay, now what if I ruined it? What? You don't like that? That's rather unfortunate, because that's what I proceeded to do. In fact, if I take off all.. 10 or something adjustment layers, they look like this:

My process went: Shadow block> Fill rest of form> Color randomiser> Copy and skew (to populate background)> Hue adjustment> Gradient map> Fill Light> Chromatic aberration> Vignette> Levels> Curves.

The.... Magenta cube is there because due to the nature of the color randomiser, the foot had a high value, and stuck out like nobody's business in the end.

Here's what it would look like without the cube. Begone, distracting white blob! (I didn't have to worry about the lava arm because Percy happened to cover it up. What a save! But if he didn't then... there would have been a second cube.)

Basically, it was a mess. But... at least it came out fine in the end! I hope!

I'd love to have speedpaints on hand, but I was switching between CSP and PS for a good majority of the work.

I'd say that's it for these two pieces! I actually have more, but those demand more time. I'm much slower at doing inks than I am at painting, but I hope you'll get to see them soon.

[eufezco]

SUMMARY - you're a little jealous of Tess.

a little smut at the end(?? english isn't my first language <33

"You know it's very obvious, right?" You heard Frank talk behind you. Even though Bill and Frank insisted that it was not necessary for you to do the dishes, you insisted on helping them. They prepared this delicious meal for you three and there was no way you were leaving without doing something for them in return. In front of you was the window from which you could see Tess and Joel still sitting at the table. The day was sunny and Joel's golden skin was glowing in the sunlight. You tried to concentrate on scrubbing the plates but you could feel his eyes on you and you couldn't help but look at him back. Tess was talking to him while he finished eating.

"Don't tell her that when it's not, Frank." Bill joined you two in the kitchen.

"No, but it is, Bill. It's in the way you look at him, you know? Your eyes do that thing and your lips curve up a bit. Not in like a big smile but in like an I'm-so-in-love-with-you one."

"It's not obvious, Frank's just dramatic. Don't worry."

"I'm just saying it's noticeable."

"What are you even talking about?" You dried your hands and turned around so you could see them both.

"You and Joel." Frank stated.

"He wants nothing to do with me, okay?"

"Oh, so he knows."

"I wish he didn't, but yes, he knows."

"Why?"

"Frank-"

"I tried to kiss him."

"You did what?"

"Oh, fuck."

"It's her fault! She likes him too and they're like super close but he only sees her as a friend. If he wasn't so worry about hurting her feelings, I could have him. He told me that." You turned around to the sink again. You grabbed a glass and started scrubbing violently. Your eyes moved from the sink to the window and back, the smirk Joel had on his lips while talking with Tess was getting on your nerves.

"So he feels the same way about you."

"At least he did a week ago. I found her in his bed a couple of days ago. She was fucking big spooning him, Frank, can you believe that?"

"Oh, absolutely not."

"I'm sure it's not only about Tess." Bill intervened in the conversation.

"What do you mean?"

"Tess told me he lost people. He's obviously scared of forging a bond with you beyond friendship because he doesn't know what tomorrow may be like and if he could lose you as well."

"Shit... how do you know that? Did he tell you?"

"He knows because he was just like that." Frank answered for him.

You sighed. "I'm so jealous of you two."

You went back to the yard and sat with Tess and Joel at the table. They were discussing whether they should agree to do business with Bill and Frank. You couldn't care less about what your two friends were talking about. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, hearing their conversation but mostly enjoying the fresh air of the sunset hitting your skin. You were the one that connected over the radio with them. Luckily it was Frank the one that got your message, if it was Bill you wouldn't be sitting there, with your stomach full of the most exquisite food you'd ever tried and feeling the freshly cut grass under your feet.

"I am spending the night here."

The two of them stopped talking. Tess looked at Joel to see his reaction and Joel shook his head immediately. "The three of us are going back to the QZ."

"No. I'm staying here. FEDRA won't know that I'm gone, I don't have work tomorrow."

Joel threw a quick glance at Bill and Frank inside the house. He had been very hesitant the two times you'd met with them, still not trusting enough the two men to leave you alone with them. Even though he knows that you'd spent hours talking with Frank on the radio. You rolled your eyes when you realized it was because of them. "Oh, come on."

"No. No 'Oh, come on.' You're coming with us. Tell them we really appreciate this nice meal, everything was delicious but we should leave before it gets dark-" He said as he got up from the table. Tess was quick to lay one of her hands on top of Joel's. She called his name and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sat down on his chair again.

"Stay here with her. I will go back to the QZ." Tess knew that it was impossible to change your mind. She was already trying to find other options that would please Joel. That was much easier.

"I have work to do in the morning."

"I'll cover you. You'll be fine."

Joel huffed, looking at you and running a hand through his face. You smiled at him, victorious, but he was upset at your attitude. You truly did not see how dangerous it was, not only for FEDRA to find you out of the QZ, but also for you to stay at some random dudes' house?

"Let us know over the radio when you arrive."

"This is so nice. We could never go back to the QZ." You said letting yourself fall onto the bed and sighing. Joel closed the door behind him and left his gun on the nightstand, a place where it would be within reach in case he needed to use it. He sat on the bed, starting to question why he didn't drag you back to the QZ. "I'm serious Joel, we could stay here. There are enough houses, you can choose the one you like the most and we could-"

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" You held your body up with your elbows and your eyebrows came together after hearing Joel talking to you like that. He turned his body slightly towards you so he could make eye contact. "Sometimes I don't know if you mean what you say or if you just spit out every fucking thought that goes through your head."

"What is this all about? Why are you so determined to go back to the QZ? Is it because of her?"

Joel huffed and got up from the bed. "You are- This is unbelievebable."

"Or is it because you have so much to lose there? It would be a pity if you did not come back, Joel. Everyone would miss you so much."

Joel ran his hand through his face out of desperation. He paced around the room while you talked. You rolled your eyes, letting your body fall on the mattress again. "So it is because of her."

"She's my family! Of course it's because of her!" He yelled at you, approaching you with a threatening attitude. You got up from the bed and as angry as he was, you asked him.

"And what am I? Am I not your family?" You clenched your jaw.

Joel chuckled and massaged his temples. "I didn't say that." Anger quickly crept back into his body, one of his fingers pointed at you, and his other hand rested on his waist. "You do not get to twist my words in that way!"

"Seriously, Joel? That's the only problem you see here? Because the real issue is that you don't have enough balls to tell her the truth and that's the only reason why things are working this bad for us!"

"Oh please, if you could act like a fucking adult for once in your life and have a little empathy..."

"I can't do that! I just can't do that because if I don't think of myself who will? Will you do it? Because we have already seen that you won't!"

He couldn't believe what you were saying. Joel closed his eyes while you talked and clenched his jaw to the point it hurt. "I think about you! You are my priority! Every hour of the day, you are my priority! From the moment I open my eyes in the morning until I go to sleep at night-"

"You're always so worried about how she may feel about us, but what about me? How do you think this situation makes me feel?"

"I'm pretty sure it makes you feel the same way it makes me feel."

You huffed a laugh and then you rolled your eyes at him. You walked past him to leave the room. "No. You are not going anywhere. I'm not done talking." Joel grabbed your arm and kept you from opening the door. His grip on your arm brought you face-to-face with him. He wanted to keep arguing with you, he still had a lot of things to say, but at that moment both of your breaths were deep as a result of the agitated discussion and they mixed to the point of becoming one. Joel cupped both of your cheeks and crashed his lips into yours. Your back hit the door, causing Bill and Frank who were on the other side listening to jump backward.

"Oh, fuck..." You sighed and your hands caressed his broad shoulders and slid down to his chest. He was beautiful, your hands couldn't get enough of him. After caressing the freckles that decorated his skin and the scars on his chest, your hands moved to his belly and quickly slipped into his pants. Joel gasped against your lips, and a playful smirk appeared in yours right before he kissed you again to quiet his own sounds.

"We should-" Frank said after being able to hear the wet sounds of the kiss and your sweet hums through the door.

"Yes." Bill agreed with him inmediatly.

The next morning you woke up between Joel's arms, your legs tangled with his and Joel's gentle breathing enticing you to stay in bed instead of going to have breakfast. You shifted in place, careful enough to not wake him up. You slid his big t-shirt over your head and stole from him the pajama pants that Bill and Frank had lent him.

Frank's eyes sparkled as soon as he saw you enter the kitchen. "You have to tell us everything right now." He moved back a chair so you could sit next to him while Bill placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of you and you smiled at him in gratitude. You bit your lower lip, trying to hide how happy you were and Frank huffed a laugh "You bitch. It was good."

You nodded, taking a sip from your cup. The smile never leaving your lips. "It was amazing. He is so rough yet so soft, just like I told you I thought he would be. His hands are- ugh, so magical, and his lips are so good that I can still feel them. And his d-"

"We don't need all those details, thank you." Bill rushed to say, sitting at the table with you. Interested in what you were saying but not that interested.

"Oh yes, we need them." Frank huffed another laugh, seeing your devilish expression wanting to go on with what you had started.

"No, you don't." Joel's said entering the kitchen with his deep morning voice.

[mattslolita]

𝑺𝑬𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑰𝑵 ( 𝒄. 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃! )

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔

chris had drifted away from his brothers, nate, madi, and laura, as his blue eyes traveled around the scenery before him, which was the empty beach that laid out before him. beautiful palm trees swayed in the distance, and the soft calls of the seagulls made for a good lullaby as the sun was currently setting on the horizon.

figuring he could find his way back to where he came from, chris decided to walk down towards the area where rocks lay — the waves gently crashed against the rough rocks, a peaceful feeling overtaking him as he lets out a content sigh. the sunset cast warm hues of orange and a looming darker blue color as it reached the peak where the sun met water.

and as he was walking down the path, he seen her.

her beautiful brown skin glowed against the water droplets which shimmied down her body, as she ran her fingers through her braided locs carefully, so that the current pink flower which resided in her hair, didn't fall out.

he was immediately encapsulated by the girl's beauty and something inside him was pulling him towards her, his body was signaling, 'go, chris!'.

and so he does just that, careful not to scare her as he approaches — he can now see that she makes her way towards her blanket which had her belongings on it, as well as a spread of various freshly picked fruits.

out of her peripheral vision, she can see the lonesome boy approaching her, causing a warm smile to grace her lips as her eyes rove over his handsome features. his brown locs were tucked messily under a white backwards cap he wore, a chain on his wrist as his blue eyes had found her soft earthy browns, a look of curiosity behind them.

"would you like to sit here?" her voice soft as honey, and he immediately decides it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

"only if you'll have me," the boy says to her with a small grin, to which she smiles and pats the space next to her.

she scoots over, and as he's sitting down he can see the green bikini set that hugs all her curves beautifully, and he finds himself sneaking glances at her as she looks out at the sunset before them, her hands perched in her lap as she smiles softly.

"i'm here on vacation with my parents," she tells him, her eyes not leaving the scenery in front of her. "i would much rather be here than at the small club they found, enjoying this beauty God has to offer."

"i definitely agree with that," he nods, looking out into the view as well, "i think hawaii is one of my new favorite vacation spots."

"what's your story?" she asks him, her eyes looking at him curiously as she tilts her head.

"do you mean why did i come here?" he asks her slightly confused, to which she gives a soft giggle.

"it can mean whatever you decide to tell me."

he smiles at the girl beside him, as she picks up a freshly cut strawberry and lifts it to her lips, taking a bite of the fruit. "my brothers and best friend are here for our friend madi's birthday."

"that sounds lovely," she whispers, humming as she chews on the fruit. "i made a few friends here and there, but they seemed to come and go."

"how much longer are you here for?" chris asks her hopefully.

"i have another week here," she smiles at him, offering him her plate of fruit, which he gratefully accepts, "what about you guys?"

"tomorrow's our last day here," he admits disappointedly, around a mouthful of canteloupe.

"it's too bad i won't see you again then," she sighs, her eyes finding the now set sun.

a comfortable silence engulfs the two, as the sky is now tinged with the faintest traces of orange, and instead replaced mostly with warm blue and purple tones. it feels nice to soak up the comfort chris finds within this mystery girl, and he wants nothing more than to stay here in this moment with her forever. he's entranced by her enamoring, yet calm nature, and he finds himself wishing he could know every little detail about her — her favorite color, her favorite movie, what sports she's into — anything that comes to his mind.

"oh my gosh, did we lose chris?"

"where the fuck did he wonder off to?"

"uh oh, that sounds like your search party," she giggles, rubbing her shoulder against his, and it's as if he feels an electric shock from her touch. "i think you'd better get going."

his eyes downcast slightly as he lets out a sigh. "before i go, which fruit is your favorite?"

"in general, or from my plate here?" she asks him with a tilt of her head, to which he chuckles.

"it's whichever you choose," he tells her, mirroring her previous words.

"they're blackberries," she answers with a grin, throwing a stray braid behind her ear, as he begins to pull out his phone. "but what does that have to do with anything?"

"can i have your number, too?" he overlaps her question, causing her to raise an eyebrow but she gently takes his phone from his hand nevertheless and types her number in.

she hands it back to him, and he angles his screen away from her with a mischievous smile as he types something really quickly, then he turns back to her. "it was really nice meeting you."

she smiles and leans into his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to it — he almost gasps at the soft feeling of her plump, glossed lips against his skin. she pulls away with a grin. "it was nice meeting you, too."

with a goofy grin adorning his lips, he stands up and begins to walk away from her, looking back to cast her one final wave, which she returns brightly.

she looks out into the dark ocean, humming under her breath. "chris," she whispers quietly, finding a smile creeping onto her face.

[niki-phoria]

i love ur resident evil masterlist.... stayed up all night reading those and giggling like a maniac... ANYWAYS could u like write nanami kento (jjk) x reader that has social anxiety (me ermm..) i just want ur persepctive on how u view it CAN BE TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF RGGRGR but ofc!! u can take ur time writing this i'll probably forget abt this but oh well!!!!

WHEN I'M FALLING DOWN, DOWN, DOWN / YOU ALWAYS SAVE ME

pairing: nanami kento x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff/comfort word count: 677

notes: tysm it means the world to me !! technically i don't write for nanami but i had an idea for this :) mostly based on my own experiences with social anxiety lol, title from nct dream - breathing

the night air smells of barbeque smoke and beer. laughter from young children and drunken words passed between adults surround you until you can barely hear yourself think over the chatter. the light pink and orange streaks in the sky came and went with the sunset, being replaced instead by the flickering led light shining from the various rides and attractions filling the fairgrounds.

any game and ride you could think of surrounds you. there are street vendors lining the streets selling all sorts of drinks and snacks. nanami has remained steadfast against your side, casually pushing others away from you when they threaten to intrude a bit too close for comfort. but all you can focus on is the people. 

they surround you. wherever your eyes turn, there’s always another stranger. another pair of eyes on you. 

your heart pounds wildly in your chest. your hands are clammy when you wipe them against your clothing. they tremble a little when you curl them into fists, doing your best to brave the sea of people ahead. after all, of all the terrible things that exist in the world, some strangers enjoying their night off shouldn’t be the thing that paralyzes you with fear.

“y/n,” nanami’s voice is soft - comforting - when he leans in. it’s a nice contrast to the loudness of the world around you. dark eyes meet your own when you glance over at him. anyone else would’ve missed the soft curve pulling his lips into a frown. the way his eyebrows are furrowed slightly, studying each minute detail of your expression for any signs of discomfort. 

but you’re not anyone else. you can read nanami’s thoughts like they’re your own. you can feel his concern when he leans in a little closer to whisper in your ear. “are you feeling alright?”

you bite down on your bottom lip, taking another cursory glance at the crowd surrounding you. another person carelessly brushing past you is all it takes before you make up your mind. your hand is shaky when you curl your fingers around the hem, tugging his arm a little closer to you. he takes the initiative, ignoring the people shoving past him to step a little closer towards you. “can we go somewhere quieter?”

“of course.” nanami’s hand finds your own without you realizing; his fingers link with yours as you slip through the crowded street. you keep your eyes trained on the ground below, studying the scuff marks decorating your shoes instead of the faces of the strangers that surround you. 

the fairgrounds feel more like a maze as nanami carefully guides you towards the exit, pushing through the worst of the crowd until you reach a more quiet area in the corner. the thin metal barrier sways in the wind as you slip out through the opening until you’re finally able to take shelter on a little metal bench away from the crowd. 

“how are you feeling?”

you sigh, finally relaxing against the cold metal. if nothing else, it serves as a nice reminder that you’re temporarily safe from your own anxieties. “i’m fine. i just got a little overwhelmed.”

he hums in response. his eyes drift away from your face to the goosebumps that line your bare skin. without another word, nanami slips his tan blazer off, carefully draping it across your shoulders. you smile softly, wrapping it further around yourself as he sits down beside you.

you sit together in a comfortable silence, silently observing the way the led lights illuminate the night sky above. nanami’s hands feel warm when he intertwines your fingers together. you softly smile, pressing a chaste kiss against his cheek before leaning over to rest your head against his shoulder. in the distance, you can see the flashing lights of the ferris wheel lighting up the night sky. “thank you, kento.”

nanami smiles. under the cover of darkness, nobody witnesses when his lips brush against the crown of your forehead for a brief moment before he murmurs, “i love you,” except for the stars.

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

[vympirestake]

— No Better Sight

— bo sinclair x afab!reader, 🔞,mostly just smut without plot, fluff, lowkey bodyworship, slight aftercare

— gentle degradation, unprotected, not proofread

═════════════════════════════

Bo Sinclair had never had much of an eye for beauty. Instead, he found his own art in the oil covered grime of his mechanics shop. He had little care for the appearance of anything in the rundown town he called home.

Though, at the sight before him, Bo figured it didn't take an artist to know he was the luckiest man in the world. The last golden hues of sunset crept through the decrepit curtains of his room; indescribably illuminating your figure bouncing on his near aching cock.

"Look at you go, darlin'," Bo drawls against your bruised lips. His eyes drag down your body, feasting on every curve and crevice he knows all too well. He catches your lips once more only to slip his thumb into your all too eager mouth when he pulls away. Groaning at the feel of you suck around him. "Just my sweet little slut, aren't cha' honey," His voice dropped for a moment, dripping nothing but lust and love. He allowed you to continue sucking his thumb before slowly removing it once again.

Your moans were like music to his ears and, though he loved hearing them, Bo enjoys feeling them even more. So, despite the desperation of the moment, the man before—and below—you pulled you down into a gentle kiss. His thumb gliding down the curves of your jaw, cuping his hand at your chin to keep you steady. Keep you exactly where he wanted you.

You whined at the loss for only a moment before Bo began gently circling your clit. The shock of almost painful pleasure, courtesy of Bo insisting on eating you like a man starved earlier, making you cry out and your hips stutter in their movements. Moans and chants of Bo's name flowed from your lips, trying desperately to regain your rhythm.

A groan sounds from Bo at the sight, his free hand flying to your hip to aid your desperate grind. His other only continuing its assault on your clit.

"That feel good, doll," he asks.

"Yes! Yes, please, feels so good," you move your hands to find purchase on his shoulders.

"Oh," he tilts his head to get a better look of where you connect, "I bet it does from how you're clampin' down on my cock like that." Your desperate bouncing now became a frantic grind again Bo's hand. Begging for just a little bit more friction to finally push you over that edge. Seeing how close that sweet release was to overtaking you, Bo slowed to a torturous pace.

Feeling his hands come to hold your hips almost still, you let out a pained sob into Bo's shoulder. "No—please, Bo. Please keep going." You tried to bounce again but the grip Bo held on your hips was too tight. Your hands slide to his chest, nails digging into the tanned flesh. "I'll—I'll do anything just please, keep going." Bo hadn't allowed you another moment to ask before he flipped your positions.

Bo released his grip on your hips for only a moment to settle your thighs comfortably on his scarred forearms. As he reaches to grasp your waist he growls out, "arch your back for me, honey. You know how I like it."

You comply with his command, arching your back just a little, feeling how his cock shift to his new spots inside you. The feeling making your hips now shift and buck in anticipation.

"Bo, baby, please," he shifts his weight down closer to you, "need you s'bad. Please, need your cock," you shift to steady yourself on your arms, leaning into him. At that, Bo gives a sharp, gentle thrust. Enough to have your eyes rolling and head leaning back. He chases your neck, lips kissing and sucking on the column of your throat whole building his pace.

The angle now allows you to feel him hitting deep into your soaked cunt. The sound of wet skin slapping reverberates around the room and though the sun no longer shines through the blinds, Bo can't look away. He pulls himself from your neck, watching your lips part to allow a symphony of moans to escape.

"Open your eyes, doll. I want you to look at me when you cum." You do as he says, catching his lust-blown eyes as he, again, brings a hand to toy with your clit. A sharp cry of his name slips from you while your body arches up towards his own. Arms flying around his neck to find something to hold onto.

"'m close, Bo! Please don't stop, need t' cum," you cry out. Bo quickens his pace, his fingers rubbing circles into your clit. He can't focus on anything other than the need to feel you clench around his length.

He leans his head around to hover his lips just over yours. In a low tones he drawls out, "do it, cum for me. I want you to, baby, my good girl." He stutters out more but you don't notice. The tension in your core finally giving way to an explosive climax. Your hands scramble, nails clawing at Bo's back and bicep while you float from your high.

The feeling of you clenching down on him has Bo releasing with a low growl. The sensation of him filling only aids you, nearly sending your overestimated body into a second climax. Bo's arms slowly give way, releasing your legs to the bed and gently bringing himself to somewhat lay on your heaving chest. For a time, you breathe together. Caressing the parts of the other you can reach and slowly coming back to each other.

Bo is the first to move, shifting his weight to instead lay beside you. Pulling your limp body into his arms, tucking your head gently into his chest while he slowly smoothes you hair. In your tired haze, you bring a leg to rest over his own.

"So good, honey, always such a good girl f'me." Bo brings his head to rest in your hair, placing a gentle kiss while soaking in your scent. Chuckling at the slight 'mhm' he receives in response.

He'll run a bath in the morning, but for now Bo settles in next to you. Content letting everything but you drift away, forgotten.

═════════════════════════════

[comicaurora]

Are you willing to make a long personal post about how Math should be presented in an educational environment or in general conversation trying to convince the other participants about its daily usage. How it can advance a person’s problem-solving skills and approach in life.

I’m really good in Mathematics. I’ve given help for my classmates and friends about Math when they are having trouble or ask for it. But I have never been convinced of its importance outside of the classroom, outside of the test papers that gives me the variables to substitute in the given equation of that test of the day.

How can Math and it’s many properties relate back to everyday life in a casual manner?

Hm. Well, as someone who hasn't had to solve an antiderivative in years, my perspective on this is that the most important and widely-applicable skill math can teach you is the stuff behind the math - mostly the muscle-memory you get from proofs.

Math is, at its core, puzzles and logic and pattern-recognition. You learn a set of tools, you practice those tools on a set of simple problems until you get a feel for them, you are presented with a bigger problem, you recall which tools best applied to problems that are shaped like this, you break the problem down using your tools and eventually reduce it to something you know how to solve.

The fact of the matter is, the tools that are specific to branches of math don't really have much widespread use outside pure mathematics, and unless you go out of your way to keep using them you're likely to lose track of them. Studying math is not going to turn you into a super-calculator-wizard who can bounce stuff off the walls at perfect angles and do six-figure arithmetic in seconds, and I think some people feel overwhelmed at the assumption that that's what's expected of them if they learn math, and some other people feel cheated when they learn that that's absolutely not going to happen, because most writers don't know math and when they tell stories with math in them their best guess is it makes you a wizard.

I think the most advanced math I've used lately was trigonometry, and that was just because I was curious about how fast my plane was traveling relative to the sun's apparent movement at my latitude. We were flying back to the US from Iceland and we'd taken off at sunset, and we had been in that sunset for at least an hour by the time I got curious how the math worked out and started estimating our latitude, the circumference of the slice of the earth at that latitude, and correspondingly how fast we were flying vs how fast it was spinning to complete a full rotation in 24 hours. But even if the math involved didn't tap into any of the higher-level stuff I'd learned post-trig, those years doing proofs and figuring out which tools applied to which geometry meant that I could use the tools and my training applying those tools to calculate what I wanted to know, and confirm that our plane was actually outflying the sun when we were at iceland latitude, but as we curved south the sun's apparent relative movement (aka the rotational speed of that latitude of the earth) slowly accelerated until we were falling behind, landing right as the sun finally set. The math involved was high school level, but if I'd been given that problem in high school it would've taken more work and more stress to figure out how the tools I had needed to be applied to the problem I was facing. The years of practice I had tackling much more complicated proofs made the diagnostic process much faster.

I saw someone once analogize studying math to lifting weights. Where am I going to use this in real life? How often will I really be faced with two dumbbells that need to be lifted in three sets of twenty? Where am I going to apply the skill of holding a heavy thing straight out to one side of my body?

You don't lift weights because lifting weights is such a valuable and widely-applicable skillset, you do it because lifting weights makes you better at lifting everything.

You don't study math because math is going to fill your daily life with concepts that you need to prove true for 1 and for n+1 given true for n, or complex solids that you need to sum an approximate volume for, or a surplus of sunset plane flights that demand you calculate a bunch of cosines. You study math because it is the skillset of making things make sense. It trains you to break a huge, incomprehensible problem down into a series of small problems you already know how to solve. It lets you reach true and correct conclusions by starting from facts and transforming them through operations that preserve truth, and correspondingly that if you reach a false conclusion from these methods, then either the methods are flawed or the initial assumption is not as true as you believed. It teaches you to put two and two together and be confident, once you've double-checked your work, that you can say four.

This is stuff I use all the time in both my video research and my freeform writing. Building out a slow picture of how a story was told or changed over time involves finding the context it was created in, and reverse-engineering what parts of that context could have produced what standout portions of the story - what authorial or cultural bias results in this standout story element. Worldbuilding where I take two wildly disparate parts of the world, put them together and see what web of implications springs out of combining them, following the threads to new and interesting concepts that follow from what I've already established. Building a character arc by breaking down exactly what events are happening to them and what transformation each component will apply to the underlying character. If I want the story to go in a certain direction, what transformations do I need to apply to make that happen while still preserving truth? If I'm faced with a seemingly insurmountable problem, what methods can I use to break it down into bite-sized pieces?

This isn't something I think about most of the time. It's just how my brain works at this point, and I can't promise it'd work for anyone else. But thanks to all my years of hard work and training, my brain has been buff enough to solve every problem I've tangled with since graduation, and that feels pretty good.

[kinardsevan]

30 day fluff challenge: day sixteen

"i want to stay up with you"

Evan yawns as he stretches out on the bed of the truck before snuggling closer to Tommy on the inflatable mattress. 

“You don’t have to stay awake,” Tommy tells him, running his knuckles up and down Evan’s tricep. “The meteor shower isn’t going to start for another hour or so and I know you just came off shift.” 

Evan shakes his head, nuzzling up into Tommy’s neck and biting down gently. They’ve barely seen each other this week after both picked up extra shifts. They’re working towards a down payment on a house, and while they both have savings, neither of them are necessarily interested in dipping into that for the purchase. As they’ve discussed, between medical expenses, the need to have a savings at any given time due to the nature of their work and the injuries it causes, and other future plans, the logic of starting a new savings specifically towards a home makes more sense. Still, that doesn’t mean that being apart doesn’t suck. 

“I’ve missed you,” Evan murmurs to him as he finds the space beneath Tommy’s ear and sucks softly on it. His boyfriend groans softly, presses his hand harder into the space on the center of Evan’s spine. 

“You’re missing the sunset,” Tommy says after a minute, teasing. 

“Missed you more,” Evan mumbles against his skin. He slides a hand underneath Tommy’s hoodie, brushing his fingers over his boyfriend’s toned abs. He’s not in search of anything—just wants to feel the landscape of his muscles beneath his fingers. 

“Should we get a cat,” Tommy muses. Evan huffs softly, knowing his boyfriend is trying to distract him from settling in. He leans back, resting his head on the curve of Tommy’s bicep. 

“Are you seriously asking me about us getting an animal together? Or are you just trying to distract me?” 

Tommy shrugs, but smirks at him. “Both can be true.” 

Evan rolls his eyes, but shifts down so that his head is in the juncture of Tommy’s armpit. 

“What happened to the discussion of a dog,” he asks, fingers still moving lazily over Tommy’s abs. 

“We do not have the availability right now for a dog,” Tommy counters. “But a cat is a step up from something like a bird while also still being able to mostly take care of themselves. I think you’d like a black cat.” 

“Of course, I would,” Evan states, a smirk crossing his face. “I already have one.” 

“Hey,” Tommy retorts. “I don’t complain about living with a venerable golden retriever.” 

“Venerable,” Evan comments. “Meaning respected. Proves my point entirely.” Tommy tilts Evan’s chin up, and when their gazees lock, Tommy is glaring at him, even though there’s a smile on his face. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he states. “Yes, baby, I would love to get a dog, once we actually have a house. But I mean now.” 

Evan shrugs then, looking out at the sunset. “I mean yes, a black cat would be a nice fit in your place until we move.” 

Tommy nods then. “Cool. I was looking at some rescues, and there are some options.” 

Evan looks back up at him, incredulous. “I thought I was the one taking us over hurdles like it’s the olympics.” 

“Just thought I’d match your energy,” Tommy replies, scrunching his nose at Evan before leaning in and pecking him. Evan nuzzles their nose after, and then settles once more on his chest. It’s quiet for a bit then, and Tommy stares at the sunset for a bit before looking down when he swears he hears Evan snore. He lets out a chuckle, which seems to disturb him. 

“Still awake,” Evan murmurs with a voice so laced with sleep that it’s obvious he had nodded off. 

“Sure,” Tommy laughs. 

Evan sighs, lifting his head again to look at Tommy. “I want to stay up with you.” 

Tommy’s expression softens then, staring at Evan with utter adoration. 

“Alright,” he murmurs after a long moment, reaching for his pocket. “You wanna see the cats?” 

Evan just nods in response. 

[yopossum]

My entry for @perotovar’s frith challenge is ready!! This story was incredibly special to me, and I am so grateful to Erin. My pairing was Silva/Ymir.

El Gran Varón

Main Masterlist

Warnings: M, 18+; grief, angst, historic homophobia, HIV/AIDS

Title borrowed from Willie Colón’s “El Gran Varón”

In memory of my uncle Mark, 1955-1992. The charming chap-wearing fixture at the Stud, a gay Irish radical activist and artist, a man who laughed and fought and lived and loved and died in San Francisco.

————————————————————————————

The land had been there, of course, and the people. Ramaytush Ohlone, the Coastanoans, the custodians of Yelamu. Long before the Spanish. Long before San Francisco and the insatiable maw of urbanization.

Long before boys paid the debts of men with their bodies, before they soothed those bodies with each other. Long before frozen deployments, blue discharges, that scarlet letter H. Long before soldiers set aside old lives and old loves. Long before tongues twisted and hands roved in shadows at the docks, in the bushes, in the rented rooms at the Embarcadero YMCA. Long before bathhouses and leather bars and flags and marches.

Long before familiar brown eyes glinted under the brim of a cowboy hat across the dance floor at The Stud. Long before an old spark became a bonfire, a hearth, a beacon. Long before a damp apartment became a heart’s home.

Long before a plague. Long before a glass milk bottle, always full of wildflowers, stood vigil on a windowsill over a busy sidewalk.

Long before Silva.

And yet, to Jake, it felt as if nothing had really existed before Silva did, and that the world he now occupied was built from pieces of him, rendered from his flesh and blood and bones and sweat and come and tears. Him, others like him, like Jake. Men who were strong and virile and hard and soft and sometimes even free.

But mostly, the world was made of Silva. He was the genesis, Ymir, the primal matter of all things. He was a great man.

Jake saw Silva in the soft rolling hills, the plush curves of his naked body spread across a shared bed, tawny earth brown flesh in the morning light. He saw him, too, a later Silva, in the jagged, jutting cliffs along the shore, bones of bedrock straining and angular under thin sandy skin.

He felt Silva in the sea, in the way it hung in the air here, that tang of their shared sweat salting Jake’s upper lip when they fought, danced, fucked, slept. When they cried out for more pleasure, for more help, for more time.

Silva was the redwoods, the thick brown silver waves of his hair their bark. A subtle sweetness, a woody, green earthy thing when Jake pressed his face into the nape of his neck, now perfuming the air of the grove with an impossible ache.

When the fog curled catlike into the bay, Jake felt its cool caress, welcomed the syrupy clouds that filled his head with thoughts of Silva, of his dreams, of his hopes, of his memories and fears, of how deeply he loved, and was loved.

Jake crouched down on creaking knees, ran a finger over the etched lines in the flagstone at his feet, and traced each letter as tenderly as if it was a laugh line carved at the corner of Silva’s eye, a furrow sculpted in his brow, the dimple nestled in his cheek.

He ran a rust red handkerchief across his face, the same color as that looming bridge, as the sunset settling over the park, as a lesion, as a bloodstain. He blotted at the wetness slicking his cheek, held it there before bringing it to his lips to kiss the threadbare fabric, breathing in the memories of the life of two men, who looked after one another, protected each other. Who kept each other company.

Jake stood with some effort, tied the handkerchief around his neck, and glanced around the circle of so many names before turning back to the one that was also chiseled in his being. With a nod and a soft smile, he said goodbye to the man who made the world, turned toward Stanyan Street, and resumed his nightly walk.

————————

Extras!

- Info about Ymir

- SF gay history

- Early queer culture in SF

- The Stud

- Timeline of the AIDS Crisis

- the National AIDS Memorial at Golden Gate Park

- “El Gran Varón” - Wikipedia

- Gorgeous moodboard from @perotovar to inspire me!

NP tags: @whocaresstillthelouvre @jennaispunk @tinytinymenace @sawymredfox @beefrobeefcal @timelordfreya @mothandpidgeon @crowandmousewritingco @sp00kymulderr @for-a-longlongtime @undercoverpena @secretelephanttattoo @magpiepills @maggiemayhemnj @hellfire-state-of-mind @goodwithcheese @sixhours @grogusmum @mountainsandmayhem @gasolinerainbowpuddles @schnarfer @jessthebaker @nerdieforpedro @thesluttylittleknee @lotusbxtch @yourcoolauntie @arcanefoxfics @toxicanonymity @burntheedges @artsy-girl-76 @ak-vintage @morallyinept @mando-abs @littleredpandanaps @ameerawrites @amanitacowboy @littlemissskuld @sizzlingcloudmentality @clawdee @syd-djarin

[surrogate-fawn]

May I... humbly suggest #17 for the ask meme 👀

The Outlaw's Labor (Wild West AU)

Prompt: "I really need to change position"

Characters: Fawn/Newt/Hassan, in a poly marriage. ((Newt & Hassan both belong to @mittysins))

Context: Fawn is the leader of an outlaw gang, and just so happens to be the only woman among them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If there was anything Fawn could appreciate about the desert, it was the transformation it made after dark. The unrelenting sun would shatter into twinkling silver pieces all across the sky, the burning sand would become a cool ocean of silk, and the lonely wind came alive with the sounds of nighttime critters.

Fawn heard the wail of a lone coyote somewhere off in the distance. It was separated from its pack, and that made them kindred spirits. She glanced down the hill at the dying embers of the campfire below her, and at the circle of men sleeping around it. Her own empty bedroll lay open in the formation of snoring bodies, between the two boys she'd taken as her husbands.

A small smile graced her lips as she watched her lovers' slumber from afar. Newt had placed his Stetson over his face while his head rested back on his saddle. Hassan lay curled on his side, his long brown hair pulled into a ponytail and the handle of a shiny revolver nestled in his fist. Fawn wondered how the man could be such a ball of nerves but still sleep so close to a loaded weapon.

Her hands moved to cradle the underside of her greatly swollen belly, its curve hardly contained by the fastenings of her shirt. The denim didn't have much give to it and -- even though it was one of Hassan's shirts -- it just barely fit her gravid bump . . . especially now that labor had dropped it low and heavy on her frame. The only sign of pain throughout Fawn's entire being was the shallow sway of her hips as she felt the next contraction starting.

She'd been "keeping watch" atop that hill for a few hours, laboring quietly to herself while gazing down the length of the canyon. It weren't no secret she was keeping; hell, her boys had known the baby was on its way since that afternoon. She'd mostly kept her discomfort to herself all day, until her husbands had asked what was wrong.

Newt had convinced her to make the gang camp early, to give herself plenty of time off Sidewinder's back before labor got too deep. She was grateful he'd talked some sense into her, because she'd been much deeper in labor when they made camp among the hoodoos than she'd been letting on.

It's not that the labor didn't hurt -- it sure as hell did! -- it just wasn't anything Fawn found herself unable to handle. Her reactions to the intensifying pain were so mild, her gang was under the impression her labor had only recently begun. Why cause a stir by correcting them? What on God's earth were those lawless men supposed to do with that information?

While the men of her gang sat around drinking and playing rounds of cards until sunset, Fawn and her husbands had moved to a more private area of the canyon -- where she could feel free to labor away from gawking eyes. Well, except four of 'em.

For the five hours the gang had lollygagged around camp before nightfall, Hassan and Newt had never left her side -- Hassan, especially. He was the one who had gotten her pregnant, there was no mystery there, and he took that responsibility as seriously has he handled his guns.

Hassan's hands trembled with anxiety every time Fawn furrowed her brow in pain, and he'd startled at every tiny groan she uttered. For such a talented and imposing gunslinger, he could act as frightened as a rabbit in a jackal's den. His fear was evident in the fact he never laid a hand on her -- he'd been hesitant to touch her in any way since he learned about the pregnancy, as if she'd suddenly become made of glass. Instead, he'd stood a few feet away and annoyed her with constant suggestions on how to make her labor "easier" -- all of which were total nonsense. Where he got the idea that drinking water somehow opened the womb, she'd never know.

Newt was a more hands-on in his support, offering his wife reassuring backrubs while she rested between contractions. Naturally, he had more innate sympathy to the kind of pain she was experiencing; but he was a bit over-eager to help ease it. He seemed to be under the impression that digging his hands into her sides somehow eased the pain -- when it, in fact, made it much worse. During a contraction, Fawn had needed to bark at him several times to stop touching her before he finally got the message. After that incident, Fawn just wanted to be left alone.

For all their sweetness, her boys had really started to try her patience by the time the stars came out. She'd managed to convince them to sleep for a while -- assuring them that once her labor "started picking up", she'd wake them.

Yeah . . . she never had any intention of doing that.

She'd brought a child into the world before, her husbands hadn't -- but goddamn, if they didn't act like they knew better than her. As the one most experienced in childbirth out of that whole gang of ruffians, Fawn qualified to be her own doctor. She knew what the subtle cues of her body meant as it slowly worked her new baby out of the womb -- that ancient language of birth between mother and child.

"Oh, you're fixin' to come out before sunrise," Fawn thought, internally speaking to her baby. She rocked her hips a bit wider, a huff of air leaving her nostrils as she felt the harsh pinch of her cervix being pulled further over the mass of her child.

The contraction faded away, and the outlaw leader rested her back against a rough pillar of stone -- one of hundreds surrounding their campsite. Auburn ringlets of her hair had escaped the pinned updo she tamed her curls in, falling loose throughout the day's sweat and toil; but now, even in the chill of the night, they clung to the back of her neck.

"Actually," Fawn thought, "you might be comin' a lot sooner than that."

Ever since that morning a pressure had been rolling into her hips like a thunderstorm on the horizon, getting louder and deeper every hour. Now, it was barreling over her.

Another contraction started less than a minute after the last one. Fawn pressed her lips together and furrowed her brow, her hands continuing to support the weight of her low-hanging belly. She felt the heft of her child moving down. With her own hands, she felt the rough outline of its shoulder resting just above the bony squeeze of her pelvis.

"Mmm-hmm, you're comin' a lot sooner than that."

Fawn shuffled around the edge of the rocky pillar, hiding herself from the view of camp behind an outcrop at its base. Her hands moved from her underbelly to her belt buckle as she doubled over with a breathy groan -- the contraction reaching its peak of intensity and refusing to let up. She shimmied her trousers and undergarments down to her knees and held herself in a supported crouch against the jagged rock, her hands splayed out to either side of her.

Lightning flashed behind her eyelids as they closed tight. The pressure was thundering and insistent, pounding on her bones with every heartbeat. Then, the storm inside her finally broke.

Fawn let out a soft sigh of relief when she felt her bag of waters rupture. The immense pressure lessened in an instant as a gout of hot fluid hit the cool sand with a dull splash. Fawn let her head lull back, thankful to the Lord above that she'd thought to remove her trousers before it happened; they were her only pair.

She had no hope of getting her boots and pants off in her condition -- her boys had needed to help her with that for weeks -- so why fret over it? Besides, this would make it easier for her to hike her clothes back up and head into camp once she was done. There was no reason to be indecent around her men . . . her authority was threatened enough as it was by her pregnancy.

To outside eyes, she looked every bit a woman in a desperate plight: outlawed to the wastelands, a price on her head, laboring with no assistance, and preparing to give birth with her most of her clothes still on; but Fawn was the picture of serenity.

"Alright, rugrat, your cushion's gone. Can't be very comfy in there now," Fawn thought with a flood of anticipation. "Are 'ya ready to come out now?"

She gave a few experimental pushes as she felt the next contraction ramping up. With the third timid push, she felt the cold night air enter her canal as her body started to flower open.

"Ooh, yeah," Fawn thought, adjusting her stance to be wider, "you're ready."

When the contraction reached its peak, Fawn pressed her boot heels into the soil and bore down with all her might. She held her breath until she was lightheaded, stopped to exhale, inhaled, and pushed again. Her nails dragged against the rock as her fingers spiked to find better purchase.

Fawn was able to wring about three good pushes from each contraction, but she lost count of how many she endured -- they were starting to bleed into each other. Excess fluid dripped from her folds as she silently worked her baby down. One long, deep push had her skin bulging out obscenely, the head finally slipping down to fill up her canal.

Pressing her back harder against the pillar, Fawn lowered herself into more of a squat, allowing her to bring her hands around. She swiped away the pebbles digging into her palms and put both hands between her legs to explore her progress.

She didn't need a doctor to tell her what was going on, Fawn could feel it all for herself. Her vulva was hot to the touch and firm as a stone wrapped in skin -- everything flushed with blood and straining with the pressure that would soon force it to open.

The pad of her left middle finger accidentally dipped into her enflamed opening, and Fawn let out an involuntary gasp as she felt a bit of damp hair sitting just inside her stretched perineum.

"Oh! Hey'ya, rugrat," she said inside her head. A small chuckle left her dry throat. "I wasn't expectin' 'ya to be there, yet."

Unbidden tears pooled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. It didn't matter if she was in the middle of the desert without a bed or a home to call her own, she felt much more at ease giving birth here than she had her first go-around:

Long before her days as "Fawn", she'd married young -- far, far too young in hindsight -- to a much older man. Her beautiful little Mercy had been born when Fawn herself was still little more than a child, and it had been an agonizing ordeal. Her daughter was yanked into the world with forceps by a doctor who was far too rough. The tongs had left indents on her baby's soft skull for days, and they'd left bruises in their wake. All that pain, all that trauma for them both . . . only for whooping cough to steal her daughter from her arms within the year.

Fawn tilted her head to gaze up at the milky way, and wondered if Mercy was anywhere among those flecks of light. Just to be safe, she blew a kiss to the sky. Then, she readied herself to deliver her second-born.

She reached into the back pocket of her trousers, pulling out the flask she'd snuck out of camp with her. Fawn twisted off the cap with her teeth and drenched her hands in the whiskey. A subdued grunt was the only sound she made as she threw her hands between her legs and dove into another push.

The top of her baby's head began to appear. Fawn's fingerpad traced its shape as it forced her opening to stretch, until that little patch of hair was the rough shape of a teardrop. Fawn pressed her hands to either side of her labia, cradling the bulging near-crown. As she pushed, she held the skin open in preparation of what was to come. It wasn't long until a sharper grunt left her strained throat -- the baby's head stretching her in earnest with her most recent push.

Fawn tried to relax her body as the stinging burn of crowning began, but her thighs and back were aching from holding a squat for so long. She turned her eyes back to the stars as a focal point, admiring their heavenly glow while she bore down on her baby.

Her fingertips lightly pressed on each side of the slimy, squishy bubble of hair as it opened into a proper crown. Long, deep breaths were the closest thing to a scream Fawn allowed herself as the ring of fire branded her between the legs.

Wider, wider, wider, she opened. With each push her fingertips were pulled further apart. God, how much of a head did this child have?! She should've expected the child to be large, Hassan was a biblical giant of a man. She tried opening her legs to make room, but her trousers acted as shackles, only allowing her knees to move about a foot apart.

Fawn threw her head back, teeth clenched and eyes shut tight against the pain she was feeling in every inch of her body now. She tried standing up straighter, but her legs refused to close. Fawn blew out a loud breath from pursed lips as she gave into another desperate effort. She continued to prod at the reddened, stretched skin around the emerging head, hoping to peel as much of it back as possible to move things along.

When she felt a large, trembling hand touch her knee, she didn't need to open her eyes to see who it was that had found her. It was Hassan. She knew his touch very well . . . the evidence of that was currently being born. She'd missed it.

But if Hassan had managed to find her out there in the dark, then where was...?

"We're here, darlin'," a soft voice came from the other side of her. A smaller hand touched her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Ah, there was Newt.

Fawn blinked her eyes open. Once her vision adjusted, the light from the stars and half-moon were enough to see by. She saw the worried creases on the faces of her boys as they knelt in front of her.

"Evenin', fellas," Fawn croaked out. It was the first sentence she'd said aloud in hours, and her voice was parched as her tongue. "You're just in time. The 'lil anklebiter's makin' an appearance."

The boys glanced at each other and almost in unison craned their necks to see between her legs.

Newt's face twisted in an odd mix of shock and awe. "Lord Almighty . . ." he murmured.

Hassan's tanned face went so pale he reflected the moonlight like a mirror.

Fawn whined, bucking her hips as she felt another contraction rearing its ugly head. "Boys, I really need to change position," she said, her tone amazingly subdued for the situation. "I can't . . . can't open my hips enough. Get my trousers off."

The boys leapt into action. Hassan removed her boots with practiced ease and both helped pull her bunched-up trousers the rest of the way down her legs. Freed from her cloth prison, Fawn sank the rest of the way to the ground, her legs falling wide open and bracing on each side of the rocky outcrop.

"God, that's better," Fawn sighed, finally feeling some of her muscles relax.

When their crowning child was fully revealed to them, Hassan put his hand over his mouth and his shoulder slumped against the rock.

"Don't you dare go dark on me, Has," Fawn scolded, her words pinched and breathless as she pushed into her hands. She paused to take in a huge gasp of air. "This is your doin', remember?"

It was as if the baby had been waiting on its fathers to be there, as suddenly every push Fawn gave sent the head surging forward. Even when the pain was at its worst, Fawn never lost her composure. She panted, she hissed, and she gave the occasional quiet groan; but otherwise, she voiced no complaints.

Her boys were still and silent, perhaps too unsure what to do to offer any more unsolicited advice -- thank God. At least they could see for themselves she knew what she was doing.

With the chirping crickets and hooting owls as her background music, Fawn managed to slide the head of her child free in just four more good shoves after changing position.

"Do . . . you need anything?" Hassan timidly asked.

"I just need y'all to be quiet."

It wasn't an insult. With a large head hanging out of her and shoulders already pressing their way through her pelvis, any sound louder than a whisper was making her nauseous.

Fawn breathed deep, her thumb lovingly stroking the cheek of her baby while she waited for their body to turn. She felt their face twitch under her fingers, their mouth opening in a cry that had no breath behind it yet.

"I know, rugrat. I know it's uncomfortable, I'm sorry," she thought, her breath coming in harsh huffs through her nose. "Mama's got 'ya, though. She's got 'ya and your daddies are both here waitin'. It'll be okay, sweetie."

With her next contraction, Fawn made it her mission to push until her baby was out; and, by God, birth that child she did -- feet pressing against rock, hips angled towards the sky, and with both fathers watching on in stunned and obedient silence. The shoulders pressed through one right after the other, and all Fawn had to do was give a gentle tug under the chubby arms once they came free.

The sand under her became drenched as the hips of the baby slipped free of her own. Fawn held the scrunched newborn up in front of her for a few seconds, giving it a quick once-over with her eyes. From what she could tell, he was perfect!

"Well, ain't you a handsome one?" she crooned, laying her son over her stomach. He squirmed face-down on the worn denim of her shirt, whimpering quietly. "Come on, you can do better than that," Fawn encouraged, giving his shoulders a rub.

The newborn must've been exhausted from the hours-long squeeze. He could still only muster enough life to whimper, until his mother gave him a flurry of harsh pats to the butt. Then, he finally cried.

With his very first breath, that little boy proved he had his mother's authority in his blood. Because forty feet downhill, the entire gang was woken to the sound of his cries.

It didn't matter if they'd been sound asleep, they were all going to know his Mama had a new reason to kick their asses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

((I'd love to receive more prompts for this AU! I'd love to get one that would allow me to continue with the family fluff after this birth scene. I would've added it to this drabble, but I didn't want to get too far away from the prompt/))

Hope you enjoyed!

[mjr-acourtofdreams]

Dancing On My Own

Azriel x y/n, Eris x y/n

warnings: angst?

summary: this was heavily inspired by the song dancing on my own by calum scott. It kind of gotten in a different direction then I wanted it to go but yeah!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I made sure that I looked absolutely beautiful well the best that I could for being me I was definitely not as flawless as Elain I didn't even come close to compare. My eyes where not that pretty brown that shines in the sunset just right or my hair wasn't soft and had that golden glow to it. Look at myself in the mirror one last time the midnight black dress hugged my curves just right my curls flowed down my back a small smile ghosted on my face maybe he will finally notice me.

The party was at full swing by the time Rhysand picked me up and flew me to the house of wind everyone was already dancing, mingling and drinking their fill. "Thank you for the lift." I glanced over at Rhys he lightly bowed his head "The pleasure was mine y/n, please enjoy the party." he smile and made his way toward Feyre who looks stunning in her starry gown her smile grew has she made eye contact with Rhys her eyes caught mine and she grab a little wave I smile and then made my way towards the bar table. "Wow! You look absolutely stunning y/n!!" I nearly choked on my drink I turned and came face to face with Nesta and Cassian I nod my head "thank you, Cassian." I gave a small smile and turned "Nesta" I nod my head to her she did the same "I didn't think you would actually come." Nesta raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Well, I think it would have been rude if I didn't since Feyre invited me in person and I needed to get out the house..." I took a drink she just nodded and turned and walked away I let out a sigh I didn't know I was holding in "It will be okay." Cassian put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a soft smile and went to find his mate.

I still haven't noticed the two that I've been trying to avoid, well mostly I was hoping to at least see Azriel and for him to notice me and then maybe just maybe I'll tell him what has been on my mind since the before that day my sisters and I was dumped into the cauldron. I glanced my eyes to the dance floor and that's when I saw it. Elain in Azriel's arms dancing across the floor she smiled up at him, he looked at her like she was his whole world. The tears in my eyes started to form but that didn't compare to the pain in my chest that started it ripped through my soul tearing my apart slowly, a slow painful death but I couldn't look away from the sight in front of me and I don't think it would even help ease the pain if I did.

I forcedly wiped the tears from my eyes and turned towards the drink table grabbed a glass and downed it as quick as I could and then reached for another and did the same. if I have to stay here all night and watch those to fall in love in anymore, I'm going to need a good buzz to do so, fuck this. I glared back up and see the whole inner circle and my sister gathered around chatting and laughing without me figure that much. I have all ways been on outcast of our family, being the youngest of the sisters made it was I was pushed even farther aways from the afterthought of everything and everyone else I would think after turning High fae and after everything things would change clearly, I was so wrong.

Holding the glass so hard it might bust into a million pieces staring at the perfect found family that acts like I don't even exist I didn't notice the male approach my side and stood there "If you don't let go of that poor glass, we are going to have a mess to clean up." I jumped so hard and grabbed my chest trying to calm my racing heart, turning my body to face the person who scared the life out of me. "Oh, Eris!" I set my glass down and glared at him "You just scared me to death! Don't seek up on people like that!" putting my hands on my hips looking up at him and he gave me his devilish smirk. I never minded the new High Lord of Autum we actually grew a very close friendship through the short years I have been fae. "Why are you over here guarding the bar table?" he looked into my eyes, studying them. Shaking my head I looked back out towards the dance floor "well someone has to." I smirk playing on my lips I soon forgot why i was so angry a moment ago. I felt him move closer bending down close to my ear and he whispered, "well why don't you give up your post for a moment and come dance with me." I shiver ran down my back "looking has exquisite has you do you shouldn't be hiding on the side lines." I turned my head coming nose to nose with Eris looking into his eyes "I-I w-well..." I couldn't get my words out before he grabs my hand and drag me into the middle of the dance floor a smile grew across my face and I threw my head back and laugh, I real laugh Eris glance back at me with a smile across his face and a glow in his eyes.

Azriel's POV

A smile ghosted across my face while I took in my family all gather together laughing and smiling, glancing to the side I see Elaine holding her glass close to chest smiling brightly at Feyre and Nyx while the talk about something I am not sure I lost track of the conversation moment ago turn to see if anyone needs another drink I heard the my joyous laughter fill room bouncing off the walls, I could pick out that laugh anywhere. Turning to find the person behind the laugh, looking across the dance floor I see her, y/n spinning around the middle of the dance floor, smiling and laughing like I never seen her do she looks so free, so happy and at peace it made my smile grow even wider until I see the arm that reached out and grabbed her and lifted her up spinning with her... Eris, the smile that cover my face vanished and my blood ran cold my shadows started to swarm around. "Azriel... Azriel?" I felt a hand touch my arm and a shook it off and whipped my head around to see a worried Elaine and a confused Feyre looking at me the glance at Rhys, I felt claws coming down on my walls "what is he doing here?" I spoke to Rhys in my mind he took a moment to respond, "all the High Lords attended this year's Starfall, he is the new High Lord of Autum." I just glared at Rhysand and turn back to the dance floor now see them both in each other's embrace he smiled down at her, she looked at him like he was her whole world. The tears in my eyes started to form but that didn't compare to the pain in my chest that started it ripped through my soul tearing my apart slowly, a slow painful death but I couldn't look away from the sight in front of me and I don't think it would even help ease the pain if I did.

[freesia-writes]

Always and Forever: Tech x Reader

This was the first half of a request over on @spicy-clones (my NSFW side blog) and it was just so sweet (like, massively cheesy but insanely gratifying, I hope?) that I figured I'd share the SFW part here. 😊 To set the scene, Tech x Reader are growing older together on Pabu (not like old old, but like DILF old, ya know?) 😂 and Tech wanted to show the depth of his love for their years together. Gonna use this gorgeous divider by @snotbuggle ❤️ More dividers like this here.

Tech x Fem!Reader ~~ Word Count: 2k ish ~~ Absolute FLUFF

Waves crashed on the distant shore as you gazed at the horizon from the balcony of your Pabu home. You heard the door slide open behind you and turned to see Tech, handsome as ever in his advanced years. The two of you had had your ups and downs of course, but your diligent work to communicate well and seek to understand one another had led to a greater foundation of emotional intimacy and an ever-deepening friendship that continued to delight after all this time. He settled against the railing beside you, taking in the sights but mostly focused on you. His distinguished features had softened with age, but the intelligence in his eyes and the warmth in his smile were as sharp as the day you met. 

“If you have sufficient energy and ambition,” he began, “I would like to request some of your time tonight.”

“I don’t know,” you grinned. “Got a lot to do with work and volunteering and family and… Wait, just kidding.” His chuckle was more of a pity chuckle, the usual response to your cheesy humor, but there was an undeniable fondness to it. You’d both been free of work for a while now. “That sounds great. What did you have in mind?”

“Would you like to know, or would you like to take a calculated risk and enjoy a surprise?”

“Ooh, spicing it up, I see?” 

“I do have some ideas for an evening that is slightly outside of the norm that we have comfortably settled into.” His face had the slightest glint of mischief in it as well as a touch of desire that delighted you with tingles. You had never been a fan of surprises, but the two of you had built your lives together around a deep understanding of one another and desire to love and serve each other selflessly, so there was no risk involved whatsoever. He knew you like the back of his hand, and his brilliant ideas never failed to amaze.

“Which do you prefer?” you asked. He usually knew better than you did what the ideal approach would be.

“If you trust me with a surprise, I posit that it would be quite enjoyable.” 

“I trust you with my life.” 

“A responsibility that I do not take lightly, however these plans are not nearly as high-stakes.”

“That’s good,” you snickered. “Alright, game on. What’s the plan?”

“I would like you to join me for dinner in whatever attire you find most comfortable. No other preparations are necessary. Also, if it will aid in any mental preparation, the primary objective of tonight‘s endeavor is simply to illustrate the depth of my love and gratitude for you.

“That sounds incredible,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. You stepped a little closer, cupping his cheek and gazing into his eyes with an adoration that had been built upon a million moments and conversations you had shared. “I love you so much.” 

“And I you, but we needn’t waste time on established facts at the moment.”

Your cheeks were curved in a smile the entire time you got ready.

The two of you strolled arm and arm through the winding streets of the island, turning into a residential district that you hadn’t spent much time in. Tech approached a square home at the end of the walkway, perched on the edge of the island facing the sunset. He gave a confident knock to the door, which revealed an unfamiliar face, and a few minutes later the two of you were seated at a small bistro table on a garden patio overlooking the water. Lush vines wove through trellises all around, and fragrant flowers joined the salty sea air to soothe the senses and provide a cool respite from the tropical weather.

“Is this someone’s house?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you. Tech smiled and nodded, taking a moment to glance around and inspect the setting. When no further explanation was offered, you nudged his foot with yours to bring his attention back to you, tilting your head and giving him an inquisitive look.

“Jobin is a private chef, and on very few evenings each year, he offers a carefully curated five course meal in the private, beautiful setting you are now enjoying. He combines the unique flavors of traditional island foods with some special ingredients procured from other planets. From what I have heard, it is a dining experience that is as memorable as it is refined.” 

“Oh,” you breathed, the sudden mist in your eyes surprising you. You’d always loved food, and while you were just as happy with a greasy slice of pizza, you got a special pleasure from tasting new combinations or pretending to be fancy at times. He’d truly outdone himself this time. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Two years and twenty-four days.” 

Now you were truly welling up, completely blown away by such thoughtfulness, and you quickly choked down the lump in your throat as a man approached your table. He introduced each course with polite enthusiasm as he shared its ingredients and flavors, and you could tell he had a sincere love for his craft that he couldn’t help but share with others. Somehow it made each bite even better, and you were blown away by the artistry of his culinary creations. And yet even that paled in comparison to the man sitting across from you. His pert comments about the complementary aspects of the textures, colors, scents, and tastes of each dish made your heart swell in your chest, and by the end, you couldn’t imagine being more satisfied. With repeated thanks and well wishes, he led you back to the stone streets, offering you his arm as he did every time you walked together. 

“Our next stop is a rooftop bungalow that is tastefully furnished with a variety of couches, pillows, blankets, and other comfortable items,” Tech began, and you jerked your head in surprise and confusion. He continued, unfazed. “I thought we could make passionate love beneath the evening sky.”

“What!” You stopped abruptly and burst out laughing, the sparkle in his eyes betraying his mischief. His own smile grew larger than he might have liked, he was so pleased with his little joke. 

“Kidding, of course. I know that intercourse in a public area is far from any preference of yours, considering the fact that having any light whatsoever is less than desirable.”

“Yeah, well… Things don’t look the way they used to,” you sighed, shaking your head fondly as you continued walking. It wasn’t an issue, just a simple understanding between the two of you, and he nodded in agreement.

“I have some thoughts about that, if you will indulge me.”

“Always.”

But he didn’t continue that train of thought, instead shifting the conversation to menial pleasantries as you strolled around town for a while. The meal was settling beautifully in your stomach, and the coolness of night was beginning to whisper through the streets on a gentle breeze. You hadn’t been paying attention to where you were walking, and he came to a halt again beside a beautiful tree that had sprouted up between a few houses. Its trunk was slim, its leaves soft, and it was clear that it hadn’t been around very long. It grew in graceful curves, reaching toward the sky with impossibly smooth branches, and Tech regarded it thoughtfully for a moment, allowing you to soak it in as well before speaking.

“This sapling is nearly mature, as evidenced by the increasing contrast in the pattern on the trunk as it nears the ground. It is attractive and virile, flexible and new. It may be pruned in any variety of shapes or intentions as it grows, but even now in its untrimmed juvenile state, it is appealing to the eye and worthy of admiration.”

“Yes…” you agreed, not quite sure where he was going with it. He guided you back to the street and continued in silence, taking a few intentional turns until he entered a courtyard in a much older part of town. A massive tree stood in the center, its trunk framed by rocks piled in a neat circle, yet its roots had escaped the tidy border and poked above ground in a few places around it. Tech stopped in front of it, releasing your arm from his and gesturing to various parts as he spoke again.

“This magnificent specimen is much older. Its bark is rough, with scars and blemishes from various traumas it has endured throughout its life, whether they be from natural causes or human interference. Its roots are not all where they ‘should’ be, by arbitrary landscaping standards. You may notice that it is crooked. Its branches would be more aptly described as ‘craggy’ as opposed to ‘graceful and slender’.”

“Are you calling me ‘craggy’?” you grinned, beginning to realize the metaphor he was painting. 

“Absolutely not, unless you find it arousing.”

“Oh my gosh,” you laughed. “I’ll pass on that one for now.”

“Noted.” 

Tech stepped closer and placed a hand against the rough bark of the tree’s trunk, then tilted his head to invite you to do the same. You’d always loved nature, and you could swear you could feel its life beneath your palm, a wisdom and sentience that you couldn't explain. His gaze moved slowly between the tree and you with equal warmth and admiration.

“This tree has had the honor of watching many events unfold. It has weathered storms of both wind and waves. Its canopy has grown so wide that it provides refreshing shade to those on the ground and nurturing respite to those in the air. In comparison to the sapling, it lacks the smooth texture and shapely structure of youth, and yet it is unrivaled in its majesty. Its roots reach deep into this ground, and it has grown effectively into the space allotted. One might say it was made to be here, but in reality, it has made itself to be formed perfectly to its home.”

You were getting choked up again, and it was only increased by the softness on his face as he stepped back from the tree and took your hands in his. He lightly brushed his thumbs across your knuckles, shifting closer to increase the air of intimacy. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and sincere, and his words reached your very soul. 

“You are no longer young. I am no longer young. And yet the life we have forged together is incomparable to the surface-level vanity of youth. Seasons may have shaken and scarred us, yet the marks that remain are not blemishes but testaments to our fortitude and commitment. Our roots have entwined, our branches nestled together, our canopies melded as one. Our exteriors may not look as they did in our prime, but the depth of what we share is incomparable. When I look at you, I see strength and dignity. I see wisdom and perseverance. I see steadfast love and unfailing kindness. My gratitude for these is as immeasurable as it is increased by the fact that I did not ever anticipate to have such a thing during my lifetime.”

“Tech…” you whispered, deeply moved and brimming with emotion. 

“Perhaps I am too long-winded,” he said, the ghost of a smile passing across his face before it returned to his earnest gaze into your eyes. “I understand the tendency to be critical of one’s appearance as it changes over the years, and I am also aware that verbose logic is often insufficient to address emotions and convictions. Yet I could not resist the opportunity to put into words the profundity of my love for you. You are as beautiful to me as the day we met, as the day we married, as the day we woke up and realized how much time had passed while we built our lives together. I hope the sentiment, or at least some of it, can be taken to heart.”

You couldn’t find any words, completely overwhelmed by the way his words washed over you with affirmation and joy. Fortunately, you didn’t have to – he slowly leaned in, brushing some hair back from your face, and gently rested his hand against your cheek and neck as he kissed you softly. 

If you'd like to continue on to the spicy part, you can find it here, and I'm gonna skip the tag list since I tagged y'all on @spicy-clones.

[astarionsilverbough]

astarion catches halsin whittling a bust of his head out of a palm-sized block of birchwood :} he doesn't recognize it :}

yo hey whoa WHOA

okay yeah let’s go

It happens about three days after they leave the Grove for the Creche.

They’re camping on the Risen Road near the river. Astarion and Gale disappear for their usual bath together - they stay in the pairs they’ve previously selected mostly out of ease, though Karlach joins Lae’zel and Halsin’s group - and Halsin, having already bathed, produces a block of wood from his pack.

It fits neatly in the frame of his hand. Three-fourths of the block have been carefully carved and coaxed away by the gentle sweeps of Halsin’s knife. He works in silence for a few minutes, losing himself so utterly in his task he hardly notices he’s not alone until Wyll is speaking.

“Good gods man,” the fighter says, peering over Halsin’s shoulder at the small piece, “you’ve captured Astarion perfectly. Karlach, look at this.”

“Oh, whoa! Halsin, that’s amazin’,”Karlach says wonderingly as she peers over Wyll’s shoulder while he peers over Halsin’s shoulder. “You’ve even captured his little, little smile lines! Oh!”

“What’s all this, then, why are we cooing over the druid?”

As it always does, Astarion's voice makes Halsin's heavy heart feel about two hundred times lighter and younger. Wyll and Karlach both step back and Halsin looks up at Astarion nears, his damp hair falling over his curiously furrowed brow.

"Oh," the vampire hums, sounding a bit... befuddled. Almost... apprehensive? "Well who's this... handsome young thing, then?"

He's being entirely genuine. He doesn't recognize himself - but Wyll and Karlach, who barely know the man, did. It does look like him, then. Halsin knows it does - he's carved Astarion's face a thousand times over the last two hundred years, after all. He could carve it in the dark.

Karlach rolls her eyes. "Oh, come off it," she says with a laugh, gently smacking the back of Astarion's shoulder. "You don't have to play coy. You're bloody gorgeous, Astarion."

Astarion's eyebrows shoot up as it occurs to Halsin that vampires... Vampires can't see their reflection. Not even in water. His chest grows almost immeasurably tight. It must show on his face, because Wyll clears his throat then and says, "we ought to get the fire going, aye? It's getting chilly out here for those of us not running on infernal engines!"

"Wh -?" Karlach manages, but then Wyll is all but frog-marching her away and Halsin's world shrinks down to Astarion and only Astarion.

A relief.

If he could keep the world this small, he would.

"Is this... Is this really me, darling?"

Astarion sounds... His voice is more vulnerable than Halsin's heard it yet. Oh, but there were no words in any language to describe what was happening within the great former archdruid as he takes in Astarion's expression; it's one of an almost awestruck grief, of curious hope and something approaching the innocence he once embodied when he was younger and unafraid.

"Yes," Halsin utters on a breath. "Yes, little star, it is."

The vampire's eyes are swelling with tears. His bottom lip quivers even as his mouth curves into a soft, wondering smile.

"Me... now?"

"That is the only you I see," Halsin says quietly. "The Astarion you have always been and will always be."

"Oh," Astarion whimpers. When Halsin offers up the carving for Astarion to hold, to memorize with fingertips and thumbs, Astarion falters for a moment before he takes it so carefully Halsin almost shatters then and there.

"Huh," the vampire breathes, gazing down at his own carefully crafted visage with tears streaming down the real article, "well. I... I look more like him, don't I? Like father."

"You look like Astraea when you smile," Halsin murmurs, clambering to his feet. He sweeps a curled finger under Astarion's chin to catch the tears beading there and thumbs over the taper of it.

"And you have her eyes," the druid says. Astarion lifts those sunset eyes to meet his and before he can protest, Halsin bows to kiss the argument off his tongue. Astarion grips the carving in one hand and slides his arms around Halsin's neck; the bigger elf catches him in the crook of his elbow and draws him close, as close as he possibly can.

It's never close enough.

"But when I look at you," Halsin says in elvish, taking a step back towards his tent, "I see Astarion. I see the way your hair curls around your ears and the way your eyes wrinkle when you laugh. The way your lips part right before you're about to be kissed."

Astarion's ears go pink. "Oh - stop," he protests weakly against Halsin's lips, squirming as Halsin lifts him effortlessly from the ground. "Enough poetry, just tell me I'm beautiful so we can move onto the exciting part."

Stepping back through the flaps of his own tent, Halsin catches Astarion in another gasping kiss and turns on his heel. Astarion doesn't flail or cry out when Halsin moves to get him down on the cot; he trusts Halsin with the same ease he always has, fingers carding nimbly through the druid's hair as he kisses over Halsin's jaw and noses at his ear.

"Beautiful," Halsin says, leaning up on his palms to look down at the vampire. Soft dusk light filters through the canvas of Halsin's tent, lighting Astarion up in shades of burnished gold. The breath punches gently out of Halsin and he shakes his head. Catching Astarion gently by the jaw, the druid bows and kisses him in the way that makes the blood run hot enough to tempt the change.

"I would invent a new word for you if I only knew how," Halsin says against Astarion's lips. "You are solar storms and hurricanes, Astarion Ancunin - you are the sea beneath a fractured sky and the first winter freeze."

Astarion trembles. "I distinctly remember telling you no more poetry" he manages, "only moments ago, even. You can't have forgotten already. I hope you haven't, or we have bigger problems than - mmhmm..."

He licks the words off Astarion's tongue. The vampire melts beneath him, tears dripping down his temples and into the snowfall of his hair.

"Astarion," Halsin breathes achingly. "Astarion."

"There it is," Astarion whispers, "your new word. Every time you say my name - every time you say my name, I know how beautiful you think I am."

A pause.

"But the carving certainly helps. Feel free to make more. Of any part of me, in fact."

Halsin grins against Astarion's teeth and gathers him close, finally skin to skin.

It's almost close enough.

"Oh, I will," the druid burrs as Astarion scrapes a heavy, needy gaze over his face, lips parted against Halsin's like he's a snake poised to swallow a mouse. Halsin slides a hand between his thighs and the elf whines.

"Good," Astarion groans.

And he does. Only once he's done some thorough research, of course.

Astarion insists.

[wedontdeservethestars]

Johnny x reader with a huge family

Fem or gn pls

Thank you for the prompt, anon!! This is a short n sweet little thing, with a slight side of angst since I realized Johnny's home life was probably shit halfway through writing it lol. Hope you enjoy!

Content: gn!reader, fluff, slight angst about Johnny's distance with his parents (and dad)

“Wow. It’s so quiet,” Johnny joked. The two of you had found some solace on the porch outside, for once in the whole evening being mostly alone. You could still hear your little cousins playing in the front yard and some of your older relatives laughing as they smoked in the driveway, but here you felt like you had room to breathe.

“I know,” you laughed a little. “Sorry. I know it’s…a lot.” 

“Oh, please,” Johnny rolled his eyes. “This is nothing. At least no one here is constantly asking for a picture or for me to join in on some kinda celebrity-marketing-business-thingy.”

A shrill giggle came from the yard, and it was unmistakable. “Except for–”

“Yes,” he nodded rather seriously. “Except for Lizzy. I would trust her business plans with a blindfold on and my hands tied behind my back.”

You had gotten mixed reactions from everyone in your family when they saw who your partner was. Your parents and siblings had known for a little while, though you tried to keep it on the down-low that you were dating one of the richest and most famous men in Hollywood. But the reunion was something you went to every year and truly enjoyed. Your family was enormous and stressful, but you loved them and enjoyed being with them. It had been over a year since you’d gotten with Johnny, and you felt that now was the time to introduce everyone to him. Your grandparents and older relatives, for the most part, were lost on who Johnny was. Your parents were both impressed and protective of you. Your siblings were either jealous or flat-out didn’t believe you until they saw his Agera pull up in the driveway. 

Your cousins who were old enough to recognize Johnny were equally starstruck, but one in particular, the barely-teenaged Lizzy, had hardly left you two alone from the moment you arrived at your parents’ house. Between excited gasps and nervous giggles and lots of hair-twirling, she’d spent the evening desperately trying to rope Johnny into starring in her various movie ideas. Johnny played along stoically, even removing his sunglasses to listen and nod as she detailed plots about superhero dogs and haunted pillows and a hamster who was running for president. By the end of the night, you wouldn’t be surprised if she’d managed to snag his number so they could continue discussing his potential roles and payment later in the coming weeks.

“Can you blame her?” you asked with a chuckle. “Imagine if when you were little your cousin was dating, like, Harrison Ford, or something.”

“Hey, I’m not blaming anyone! That kid’s going places. She’s just trying to invest early.” Johnny turned and you his profile caught in the golden glow of a summer sunset. It struck you, not for the first time in the past few minutes, how pretty he was. You especially loved the sparkle in his eyes and the curve of his nose in this light. 

“She’s a smart one,” you agreed, half-paying attention.

Johnny took a long sip of his drink as he leaned on the railing of your porch, humming softly to himself. You took a moment to scan the surrounding area of your childhood home. It felt strange to be back here with him. It was like two worlds colliding, and while it wasn’t unpleasant to share your family and homelife with him, it felt odd. Almost like a dream state.

“So, are you liking all this? I know it’s not exactly what you’re used to…”

“Like it?” He seemed surprised. “Oh, man. I love it.”

“Really?” You couldn’t help a childishly excited tone from entering your voice. He smiled at this, his dimples creasing as he did so.

“Sure! It’s, uh…rustic.” His brow furrowed for a second. “Well, no. That’s not the right word. It’s…” 

Your face fell a little as he sighed. His own smile was fading.

“I didn’t really…have this growing up. Y’know? My dad, he was never big on his own family. So I never really saw my grandparents, or my aunts or uncles or anything. My mom didn’t have a big connection with hers either. I don’t think my dad helped that. So a lot of the time it was just us three. And…God. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bring the mood down. I’m just tryin’ to say that this is all really, really nice.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well, y’know, everyone here…they’re all your family too, now. You know that, right?”

“I guess that’s true.” He brightened. “Yeah. Family.”

“You’re one of us now.” You grinned and leaned against him. “And even if you are some big-shot A-list movie star, they’ll love you as long as I do.”

“Sooo, like, another three months?” he teased, calculating on his fingers. You giggled.

“Count your days, Cage.” You watched as a group of kids chased each other around the yard and neared the porch, clamoring about rules and squealing with laughs. Among them, Lizzy played, stopping only for a moment to gaze at both of you (Johnny more-so). “Although, if the way things have been going tonight are indicative of anything, you might have a rebound date in your future…”

“Oh, she can find a better Prince Charming, I’m sure,” Johnny chuckled. He waved to her, and Lizzy looked like she might just implode. Her big eyes grew bigger and bigger and she remained still as a statue until her little sister bumped into her, and then, after only one more glance over her shoulder, she was right back in the game.

“Ooh, Prince Charming.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I like that.”

“Well, it fits. I treat you like royalty for a reason.” He pulled your face into his hand and kissed you fully, trailing his thumb along your jaw. When you pulled away, you had a permanent smile painted on your lips.

“Pretty,” he murmured. He had a similar look on his face.

“Look in a mirror,” you shot back kindly. 

“A magic mirror?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes. 

“C’mon. I think dinner’s almost ready.” Tugging his hand, you started towards the door inside.

“Ooh, I can’t wait to try your mom’s food. That kitchen smelled so damn good earlier…”

“You’re gonna love it.” You gave him a backwards glance. “Seriously, if that doesn’t lure you into this family, then nothing will.”