#so yes I was there when he/they showed up with nothing to exchange for candles or hearts

[lexithwrites]

some headcanons for the ladies of the fandom, and no this isn't gonna follow canon, they're all a little gay at the least, so cry about it x

dorlene,,my loves, i feel like they met at a gig honestly, marlene is very tomboy/grunge and loves going by herself to bars and pubs where some local band is playing and she's a bit awkward on her own but once she has a drink and sees a pretty girl she's a lot more chill and confident

then she meets dorcas and she's fucked, so so fucked

dorcas is my goth queen, long black dress, buckled harness across her chest, sharp black nails, dark makeup and so much jewellery and marlene cant stop staring at her

she didnt think she liked goth chicks that much but FUCK this woman is a goddess, and shes tall,,,marlene is a sucker for taller women

shes so nervous trying to chat her up because dorcas' voice is like velvet, its so soothing and melodic and marlene thinks she might orgasm just from talking to her, and dorcas TOUCHES when she talks to you she's touching her arm and running a hand down her back and telling marlene she looks hot and marlene is so red

but they do exchange numbers and talk for days before marlene finally has the guts to ask her out and dorcas takes her to this restaurant and honestly they spend the entire night together walking around and talking and they go to marlene's and do makeout but nothing further, dorcas is also my demi queen and marlene is probably shaking with nerves lmao

also i feel like when marlene introduces her to the group they're all starstruck by dorcas too, dorcas is like the hottest woman they've all seen and dont know how marlene's nerdy ass pulled her but are so proud and happy

plus dorcas is the sweetest most gentle woman, she's so caring and attentive and pays so much attention to what someones saying to her, she remembers everything

also her and lily? besties, they're both into the same shows and they're both book lovers and talk for ages about fanfiction hehe

speaking of, my girl lily, she's basically walked out of the 70's and i love her for it

all flares and tie dye shirts, long, bright red hair and crazy bright makeup, her favourite colour is yellow and she loves flowers and summer and UGH okay

she loves 70's rock too, i feel like she kinda hides it a little but her and sirius bond over it very quickly

her entire apartment is very boho and there's lots of incense and candles and yes, shes a stoner, shes cool

very bisexual but basically only wants to date women as her experience with men (past a fling with james when they were teenagers) has been bad so she goes on a lot of dates with women to try something new and they didnt really work out past a few dates but she's hopeful

then one night she's getting drunk and a lil high with mary and she realises how pretty mary is, how soft her skin is, how fluffy her hair looks and suddenly they're really close and woah her lips are so plump and taste like strawberry wtf

i feel like her and mary hooked up once and got so nervous that they ruined their friendship that they didnt talk for a week until remus begged them too because he hates his two closest friends not speaking

when they do talk mary tells lily that she's had the biggest crush on her for so long but she didnt know how to say anything because lily had dated other people in that time and lily just feels her heart sore because oh,,,oh

mary is the sweetest girl, okay, she's precious and honestly its because of trauma and just her resilience to it thats kept her so loving and sweet, she deserves a fiery girlfriend like lily

mary has a big family and i'll stand by that, she has like four brothers and three sisters and she's the third eldest so she's taken care of them a lot too

she loves taking lily to her families home and introducing them to her girlfriend and honestly? they adore lily

she's cool and feisty and funny and she clearly makes mary very happy, but her older sisters do have a protective talk with her but they love her, they know she wouldn't hurt her

i feel like mary is a theatre girl too, she loves acting and directing and learning about sound and costume design, she's defo in the universty theatre department and lily is always coming in with a coffee and some lunch incase she forgets to eat, plus it makes mary blush when lily comes in because everyone stares at her

also in the theatre department is none other than xenophilius, a shy, whimsy guy who is dating probably the scariest yet coolest woman ever, miss pandora rosier

her and her brother were always into acting growing up and loved being in plays together, so they're defo in the department too

i feel like pandora loves making costumes and does the makeup for shows she isn't in and evan is a big sound design guy, so they're always backstage together as well as onstage

pandora is whismy goth, her and dorcas bonded over that when they first met in freshers, and she always smells of flowers and cigarettes from her brother

she also wears the TALLEST shoes ever because she's short, i love short panda

and xeno is the tallest lankiest mother fucker okay he's like barty height and so skinny, and he has a shock of white hair and heterochromia eyes and fiddles with his fingers a lot and pandora thinks he's adorable

they talk about true crime together and she reads his palm a lot and he does her tarot reading and its a beautiful, soft, loving relationship

but i feel like they're also a lil freaky,,,maybe some knife play here and there who knows, pandora is a wild card

her and dorcas became friends with the other girls through marlene and after that they're all insperable

they go shopping, smoke weed, hang out in the rosier's pool during the summer, its great

and marlene is the only driver so she takes them to the beach and down to brighton for the weekend so they can go to the gay bars together, its just great

i love my ladies, i hope this meal was filling

[angrybatart]

Secret full image of the Tinkering Chimesmith for my comic. Actually really proud of it, and kinda want to ink and color it in. I should draw the others!

[nerdallwritey]

Cheeks All Flushed (Part 2)

***IMPORTANT! PLEASE NOTE: This is Part 2 to Part 3 (it makes sense, I promise) of my Beauty and the Bard series! Find Part 1 of this chapter here. If you'd rather read it all in one go, it's also posted to AO3.

Summary: “Oh, my love,” he looked at you affectionately and crawled back on top of you to kiss you, “you are breathtaking.” “Aw-” Astarion brought his fingers to your lips. “Say ‘aw shucks,’ and I will stab you.”  Instead of responding, you kissed his fingers.  “That’s what I thought,” he said, pulling back to gently uncross your legs with his hands. “Lift please,” he tapped your knees, wanting you to bend them for him. “That’s it,” he said quietly, “good girl.” OR The Tiefling party draws to a close and you and Astarion head to bed.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 23.1k (this particular part is 4.6k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of Astarion's past trauma, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, consumption of alcohol, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, reader likes kids, shenanigans amongst friends, general party antics Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 Last chance to go back to Part 1 of this chapter!

a/n: So sorry this had to be posted twice. Apparently the banter was too much for tumblr to handle all in one go. Thank you if you made it this far! Your reward is smut! Apologies to those of you here for more vampire penis, it'll show up again in the future surely, but tonight is more about tipsy/soft Astarion. I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you once again to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!)

It ended up taking quite a long time to finish saying your good nights and goodbyes to the tieflings, knowing that they were leaving in the morning and that there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to find them when you finally made it to the Gate. 

Alfira had taken an especially long time to say goodbye to, given you were the only other bard she knew currently, and she asked you several questions to aid her in the process of writing her song about you. Lakrissa had watched on with nothing but fondness in her eyes and had hugged and thanked you when it was her turn to say goodbye.

Rolan and his siblings said their goodbyes and Rolan made sure to remind you that he’d be apprenticing under the wizard Larroakan. He drunkenly hinted that it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you came to say hi once you reached Baldur’s Gate and you promised that you would.

Danis and Bex had giggled through their goodbyes, swearing that they’d get back to the Grove safely tonight before leaving for the city tomorrow. Zevlor had thanked you and assured you he’d see to it that those who partook in too much wine would be shepherded back to the Grove with sober eyes watching them. 

Halsin had given you a big hug and told you he’d return to your camp soon to discuss next steps for getting rid of the parasites. Meanwhile, the kids bid their goodbyes in a wave of emotions; some were excited, some were sad, and others were indifferent. You smiled at the fact that they all still wore or held onto their crowns tightly.  

Polite goodbyes were exchanged with the other tieflings before saying goodnight to your companions and letting Shadowheart know that you would help with cleanup duty in the morning. 

With a yawn and a stretch, your feet carried you back to your tent. When you arrived, you were mildly surprised to see that the flaps of your tent had been drawn and that there was light flickering inside, brighter than the single candle you’d lit earlier. 

You cleared your throat loudly to make it known you were outside. “Are you decent?”

Astarion chuckled from within. “Yes, darling. Though I’m not sure if it would matter.”

You bent down to enter the tent, pushing through the canvas flaps and finding Astarion sprawled on your bedroll, a book open in his hands. He was perched elegantly among your pillows, looking as ethereal as always. 

“No, no, make yourself at home,” you teased, turning to make sure the canvas flaps were shut all the way.

“Thank you, I think I will,” to emphasize his point, Astarion sank himself further into your pillows. 

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Reading anything good?”

“Mmm, just some strange eel enthusiast’s ramblings that I found on the road.”

You lifted your eyebrows. “Oh? And what have you learned?”

Astarion sighed dramatically. “Apparently giant lightning eels aren’t technically eels.”

“Huh.”

He sat up straighter, eyeing you mischievously. “Although I was just reading about how they breed in the Sea of Moonshae.”

You snorted. “You’re not seriously trying to seduce me with eel facts, are you?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes. “You’re weird, I don’t know, figured I’d try it.” He shrugged and placed the book off to the side before extending his arms. “Come here, won’t you?”

You crawled towards him, nestling into his arms and he kissed the crown of your head.

“Read to me?” you asked. 

Before you’d gotten together, you and Astarion would spend entire evenings at his tent reading, either in silence, or to each other, depending on the topic. You’d often try to make each other laugh with silly passages and dramatic readings. It made you look forward to settling in to camp for the night after long days of fighting Mud Mephits and Wood Woads.

He chuckled. “I doubt you’ll like it. I was just distracting myself until you showed up.” He brought his face close to yours. 

You looked back at him in challenge. “Try me.”

He sighed. “Alright.” He picked up the book, still holding you in his other arm. He flipped back to the page he’d left off on. “‘Now, where can you catch eels? Bloody everywhere!’”

You snorted.

“Hush darling, you wanted this.” Astarion cleared his throat and continued. “‘From Neverwinter to Elturel to Calimport - you can find an eel. But where do they breed? And how? Well, you probably heard the stories that they’re just snakes that learned to swim, or they’re baby leviathans, or they’re Underdark spies, but that’s all bunkum.’”

“Not bunkum!” you teased. “And here I thought I knew so much about eels.”

Astarion raised his voice to get you to quiet down. “‘They breed in the Sea of Moonshae, I’m sure, and then swim all over Faerûn. And if those pricks in Candlekeep’d give me money to sail-’”

“Okay, I get the picture.” You took the book from Astarion’s hands and set it beside you.

“Told you, darling,” Astarion settled further into the pillows, bringing his nose against your throat.

You inhaled sharply when he started kissing your neck. “Should I be insulted that you thought it might turn me on?”

“I don’t need some lunatic’s musings for that,” he murmured, lightly dragging his fangs along your flesh. 

You shivered and angled your head to give him better access. “No you don’t.”

He groaned quietly. “You smell divine.” He kissed your neck again.

“You can bite me if you want,” you breathed out. 

Astarion shook his head against you. “It’s alright, love, I’ve had plenty of your blood and wild hog blood and wine today. And you’re tired.”

“How thoughtful of you. But I’m not that tired,” you whined. 

Astarion lifted his head to look at you. “Oh?” He smirked at you impishly.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said innocently, kissing your cheek chastely. In one swift motion, he rolled you onto your back, and lifted himself up to hover above you. 

Your eyes widened at him and his smirk grew wicked. You felt your cheeks flush and you looked away, trying to avoid his intense eye contact.

He bent and returned to kissing your neck, licking a stripe from the column of your throat up to your ear. “Relax,” he whispered, his hands drifting down to the hem of your blouse and pulling it up over your head.

You tried sounding normal but felt your voice catch in your throat. “Wh-at are you doing?”

Astarion kissed the valley between your still-clothed breasts. “Taking my time.”

You hummed and twisted your fingers into his hair. “You’re sending a lot of mixed messages.”

Astarion looked up at you, his tone seductive. “Is it not obvious how much I want you?”

You laughed softly. “No, you’re making that quite clear, but you said you needed time to get used to having a choice. You’re not forcing yourself, are you?”

A small smile graced Astarion’s features before he surged upwards and kissed you deeply. When he pulled back, his eyes were soft. “You’re far too nice to me. It’s disgusting.”

You shrugged awkwardly. “I care about what you want.”

He kissed you again. “Thank you, love, but yes, I’m fine. Tonight was a celebration! And I fully intend on celebrating.” He smirked at you again, flashing his fangs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy. When you didn’t find any, you nodded. “Okay.”

He smiled again and reached for the hem of his own shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it by where your new lute rested against your backpack. He climbed back on top of you and kissed you slowly, his tongue seeking entrance only after a few moments of clumsily moving your mouths against one another’s. His tongue glided against your own, and you moaned, once again twisting your fingers into his hair. 

You felt his hand move behind your back briefly, and suddenly he was pulling off your bra, making you whimper. 

He broke the kiss to look at you, nothing but admiration in his eyes. You shifted your gaze away, still not used to being so vulnerable in front of someone else. 

“Exquisite,” he breathed, leaning down to kiss you again and palming your left breast gently. His cool touch caused your back to arch and you whined when your burning chest made contact with his icy one. 

“Why-” you pulled away from Astarion’s kiss.

“Why what, darling?”

“Why do you think he chose eels as his hill to die on?”

Astarion plucked a pillow out from under you and placed it on top of your face, pressing gently as if trying to suffocate you.

You laughed wildly. “I yield! I yield!”

He pulled the pillow away and placed it under your head once more. “Mention eels again and I won’t hesitate.” 

“No eel talk in the bedroom, got it.”

“Possibly ever,” Astarion amended. 

“You brought it up in the first place,” you pointed out.

“A mistake I won’t be making again,” he said lowly, before kissing your jaw. He kept kissing down your chest until he reached your nipple and pulled at it lightly with his front teeth. 

You gasped and arched your back again, pulling Astarion’s curls and making him moan against your breast. He detached himself to kiss your lips, then brought his head down to your other breast to give it the same attention. His tongue swirled over your nipple at a languid pace, his cool breath against his saliva causing goosebumps to spread across your chest.

“Astarion?” You asked, angling your head to look at him.

He looked up at you, the flat of his tongue licking your nipple. He retracted it before saying, “Ask another stupid question and I’ll bite you.”

You blew out an amused breath. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Astarion reconsidered. “In a bad way.”

You laughed. “No stupid question this time. I don’t think.”

Astarion sighed, resting his cheek on your breast as if it were a pillow.

You brushed a few loose hairs out of his face. “When will it be my turn to pleasure you?”

Astarion’s eyes went wide before settling on something soft. He took your hand currently raking through his curls and kissed the inside of your wrist. 

You continued. “Especially since I sicced a bunch of kids on you and need to make up for it somehow.”

He chuckled quietly. “Thank you, my sweet, but I think I’d prefer to be in control for now, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it’s alright,” you said, resting your hand on his cheek. “It just seems unfair that I’m getting all the attention and you’re getting nothing in return.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s not true. I’m getting plenty of pleasure just from watching you fall apart,” he smirked and kissed you breast again. 

You inhaled deeply, “I’m serious.”

He humphed and pulled away again. “As am I.” When he saw you weren’t satisfied with his answer, he thought for a moment. “Listen darling, it’s very sweet that you want to,” he cleared his throat, “pleasure me, but as I’ve said, I’m still getting used to… well, this.” He gestured between the two of you. “I don’t really want anyone to touch me without my consent. Unless it’s you.” He avoided your gaze, embarrassed to be admitting this. “But even with that being the case, I’d still feel more comfortable focusing on you for now.”

You nodded and took his wrist that was resting next to your head and kissed it just as tenderly as he’d kissed yours. “We’ll work our way up to it,” you smiled. 

He smiled back, then narrowed his eyes seductively. “Make no mistake, I am having a wonderful time with you,” he brought his forehead to yours. “Feeling you around me is probably one of life’s greatest pleasures.”

You blew out a breath, making your lips trill. “Relax, you’ve only been in me twice. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He waved his hand in front of your face. “Ah, yes love, but you're forgetting the fingers and tongue.” He smirked at you when he saw a blush spread on your cheeks.

“Whatever,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “One of these days I’ll make you cum myself.”

Astarion chuckled. “I don’t doubt that,” he kissed your temple. “I await the day.”

“No rush,” you added quickly. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoed, pulling back to look at you fully again. He sighed happily, palming one breast in each hand. “What was it Withers called me again? A ‘boob buddy?’ A ‘breast friend?’”

You groaned and dragged your hands down your face. “My bosom companion.”

He leaned forward to kiss your lips. “I know love, I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

“Bastard,” you murmured. 

“But I’m so handsome and charming,” he murmured back, kissing you between words.

“Unfortunately,” you said, angling your head upwards when he moved down to kiss your neck again. 

He hummed along your throat, which sent tingles up your jaw that made you giggle. 

“I still plan on taking my time with you, my dear,” he said, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your pants. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

“I-” you took a shaky breath, still getting used to Astarion’s undivided attention. “Okay.”

“I’m also keen to leave, if you want me to,” he was giving you an out, in case you were still unsure, but his eyes betrayed what he was thinking: I don’t want to leave.

You gripped his wrist. “Stay.”

He relaxed noticeably and hooked his thumbs into your waistband again. “May I?”

You nodded and lifted your hips, helping him get the fabric over your hips and down your legs. He’d taken both your pants and panties in one go, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You bit your thumbnail and looked at him nervously, crossing your legs at the ankle.

“Oh, my love,” he looked at you affectionately and crawled back on top of you to kiss you, “you are breathtaking.”

“Aw-” 

Astarion brought his fingers to your lips. “Say ‘aw shucks,’ and I will stab you.” 

Instead of responding, you kissed his fingers. 

“That’s what I thought,” he said, pulling back to gently uncross your legs with his hands. “Lift please,” he tapped your knees, wanting you to bend them for him. “That’s it,” he said quietly, “good girl.”

You whimpered, the cool air of the night making contact with your already slick folds. 

“It’s too bright in here,” you said suddenly. “Anyone could see what’s happening.” 

Astarion sat up, having just settled himself between your legs. “I suppose it is,” he agreed. He crawled around, blowing out candles, and you sat up, doing the same to a few that were around you. 

“Better?” he asked when all the light in the tent was out, save for the moonlight that was able to shine through the canvas and the torches that were still lit for the party that was dying down outside. 

“Yes,” you said, resuming your position on your pillows. 

“Good,” he purred, kissing your inner thigh and settling between your legs again. He tapped your thigh lightly in warning before licking your folds slowly. 

You gasped loudly and slapped a hand over your mouth, remembering that the party was still technically going on outside. 

“Shy, darling?” Astarion smirked up at you and you rolled your eyes, whimpering again when he returned to licking you. “But I love hearing you sing for me.”

He began sucking on your clit, making you shriek out a moan. You felt him smirk against you and you wrapped your fingers in his hair as tightly as you could, hoping to give him a taste of his own medicine. Unfortunately, it made him moan into you, sending delicious vibrations through your core and making you whimper again. 

He returned to licking up and down your folds. “If only you knew how delicious you were.”

“Then kiss me, asshole,” you shuddered, feeling his cold breath against your wet cunt. 

Astarion growled and climbed on top of you, kissing you harshly and making sure to slip his tongue into your mouth to let you taste yourself. He pulled away, assessing your expression. You smacked your lips dramatically. “Could be better,” you teased. “I’m sure I’m nothing compared to you.” You waggled your eyebrows and Astarion smiled, leaning forward to kiss you again. 

“In time, my love,” he promised, kissing your cheek sweetly before returning to his spot between your legs. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and began licking you again.

You reached over for your discarded blouse and bunched it up, placing it in your mouth to muffle your sounds.

“No, no,” Astarion scolded. “Let them hear us. You have the loveliest voice.” His thumb pressed tight circles into your clit and you whined before removing the shirt again. “That’s a good girl,” he praised. 

“No funny business,” you said, not liking the smirk on his face that shined with your slick.

“Me? Funny business? Never.” He lowered his face again and you nearly yelped when you felt his tongue dip into your core.

You squeezed his head with your thighs lightly. “Bastard,” you muttered and felt him smile again. As if to tease you more, he began to make loud slurping and sucking noises. “Astarion,” you whisper shouted, despite your eyes wanting to roll back from the sensation.

“Mmm?” He half asked, half moaned wantonly. His tongue continued entering your cunt while his thumb circled your clit.

“Loud,” you sighed absently, trying to be responsible, but feeling too good to be truly mad at him. 

He removed his thumb and returned to sucking your clit. He pulled away for a second to say, “Watch, precious thing, I’m going to make you cum using only my mouth.”

“You’re not going to talk at me, are you?” you laughed.

“I don’t know,” Astarion said between licks, “a joke made you cum earlier.”

“Shut up and keep tongue fucking me,” you groaned.

He chuckled and squeezed your thighs, sucking again at your clit. 

Tiny moans of pleasure escaped you, and you rolled your hips, trying to get impossibly closer to him. He hummed against you pleasantly, making you whine loudly.

“I love your voice,” he repeated and licked another stripe along your folds. His tongue entered your core again, making you squeeze your thighs involuntarily. He moved your legs apart and further locked his arms around your legs, attempting to keep them still. 

“I love whatever you’re doing with your tongue,” you exhaled, raking your hands through his hair again and massaging the tips of his ears.

He let out a moan that turned into a pathetic little laugh and the sensation sent a shockwave through your core. You rolled your hips again, wanting him as close as possible. 

“More,” you whined softly, shutting your eyes tight.

Astarion returned his focus to your clit, sucking hard and swirling his tongue loudly. He began to hum again, more prolonged this time, and you recognized what seemed to be the jaunty melody of “Bard Song.”

It surprised you, and hurled you closer to your climax. “Astarion,” you whimpered.

“Like that?” he murmured against your clit before continuing his ministrations.

“Keep going,” you encouraged. 

You felt him smile again and he continued to hum the tune he must have heard you play a dozen times by now. He nipped and sucked and swirled his tongue on your clit, all while humming. Your hands tightened in his hair and your legs began to shake.

“Yes,” he said into your flesh, “let go, my love.”

 With a few more harsh sucks and slightly off key hums, you felt yourself reach your peak and cried out loudly for Astarion. Waves of pleasure coursed through you and you felt Astarion eagerly licking around your cunt. 

“So good,” you heard him murmur between licks, “you did so well for me, darling. I adore the way you taste.”

With a sharp inhale, you opened your eyes and smiled down at him, breathless. His eyes were still closed as he cleaned you slowly, savoring your taste on his tongue.

When he opened his eyes, you saw them crinkle at the corners, indicating he was smiling. 

“There you are,” he said as if just noticing you were there with him, getting up onto his hands and knees and crawling over you again. He bent to kiss you and you sighed against his mouth.

“You like my music,” you looked up at him in wonder and wiped a bit of your slick off the corner of his mouth. 

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure that’s a fairly well known song,” he teased.

You made a face and he softened.

“Okay, yes, maybe I’ve been paying attention when you're playing that obnoxious tune.” He brushed some hair out of your face. “It gets stuck in my head, the stupid thing.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug, making him gasp in surprise. 

“Thank you,” you said softly into his hair.

You weren’t sure you’d ever properly articulate what you were feeling. All this time, Astarion had been paying attention. He’d whined and griped and moaned the entire time you’d known each other, and yet he’d been paying attention. To you, your music, your needs and desires… He was constantly surprising you with how thoughtful he was. He’d been so sweet with what you’d needed from him last night, and then today you learned he’d been holding onto a new lute for you since before he even admitted to himself or you that he had feelings for you. And just now he’d shown that he had always been listening when you played something for him and your companions. He truly hadn’t propositioned you out of the blue yesterday, he’d cared about you for much longer than either of you realized. 

Astarion laughed, relaxing his body against you and settling his face at the junction between your shoulder and neck. “I’m going to assume you’re thanking me for the excellent orgasm you just experienced and say ‘it was my pleasure, darling.’”

You let out an amused breath and mindlessly traced the raised peaks along his back. 

“You mean a lot to me,” you said quietly.

“Yick,” Astarion said, drawing tiny spirals on your shoulder with his index finger. 

“I know,” you agreed. “Imagine how I feel. You’re the most annoying man I’ve ever met.”

“You flatterer, you,” he kissed your shoulder where his face was buried.

You tapped his back lightly and made to sit up. Astarion took the hint and rolled off of you. 

You leaned forward and grabbed his discarded shirt, pulling it over your head. You inhaled deeply. “Smells like you,” you mused, batting your eyes at him before slipping into your loose sleep pants. 

Astarion looked pleased to see you wearing his shirt again, but his face fell when you peaked out the flap of your tent into camp.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked in a teasing tone, but you could tell he was a little nervous that you were actually leaving.

You smiled and kissed him softly. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Take your time,” he said airily, examining his nails, though you saw in his eyes that he wanted you to hurry back.

You kissed him again. “You big baby. Stay right there.”

You poked your head out again, looking to make sure no one was in your vicinity. You saw the backs of Shadowheart and Gale huddled near the entrance of camp, sending off the last of the tieflings with Halsin, while Wyll and Karalach’s tents were shut tight, indicating they’d turned in for the night. Lae’zel, meanwhile, appeared to be meditating outside of her tent. 

Good, you thought to yourself, I’ll make this quick.

You crept out of your tent and made your way to the left towards the lakeshore. You grabbed your now dry blanket off the clothesline, folding it over your arm.

As you were about to grab one you recognized to be Astarion’s, Withers’ voice made you jump.

“I heardest you just now.” 

You slowly turned to look at him, his face as impassive as ever. “Like hells you did, Bone Man,” you said through gritted teeth. “No one will believe you.” You thought for a moment. “No, yes they will. But keep it to yourself. I just got a bosom companion, please don’t ruin this for me.” 

You pulled Astarion’s blanket into your arms and swore you saw the corners of Withers’ mouth turn upwards into a smile, but it may have just been a trick of the moonlight. 

“Goodnight, Withers,” you said, grabbing another of Astarion’s blankets off the clothesline. 

“Sleep well,” he responded. “You likely needest it.”

You scoffed out a laugh and turned back towards your tent, quiet on your feet. You crouched down and went to crawl back in, but found Astarion hovering by the entrance.

“Oh,” he said quietly and moved back to let you in. “There you are,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Miss me?” you smirked, tossing him one of his blankets. 

“Please,” he rolled his eyes. “I knew you’d come crawling back to me.”

You laughed and spread your blanket out over your bedroll. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching you intently as you rearranged pillows so that there were no uncomfortable lumps under the blanket. 

“Making a new nest,” you said casually. You wrapped one of his blankets around your shoulders and laid down. You spread your arms, inviting him to join you. 

He hesitated, looking down at the blanket in his arms. 

“Come here, dummy,” you said fondly, sitting up and taking the blanket from him. 

He scooted closer to you, laying on his side, facing you.

You laid beside him, wrapping the blanket on your shoulders around him too, and spreading the other one over both of your legs. 

“Now what are you doing?” he asked.

“Making us cozy so we don’t wake up freezing. It’s been getting colder at night.” You paused. “Does the cold even bother you?”

He nodded. “I can get very cold but-” he cleared his throat. “You want me to sleep with you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did we not do this last night?”

He smirked. “We did, but I don’t know, we were in the middle of the forest, it’s not like you had much choice.”

“Astarion,” you brought a hand up to cup his cheek, “I like you so much. And I want to fall asleep with you as often as you’ll let me.”

A soft smile found its way onto his lips. “You’re a clingy little shit, aren’t you?”

You huffed and dramatically turned over, facing away from him.

He laughed and pulled you closer by the hips. “Only teasing, love.” He kissed your hair.

You looked back at him. “It doesn’t have to be every night, I know you like your space, and we don’t have to cuddle or anything, but-”

He cut you off with a kiss. “Gods, you love to talk,” he said quietly. 

You pouted. “Fine, then I won’t tell you what Withers just said to me.”

He pulled you closer to him, tangling your legs together and settling his nose onto the back of your neck. “I’m sure it was something archaic and mildly cryptic.”

“He said he heard us.”

Astarion leaned up to look at you. “He did not.”

“He did.”

“Of all the…” He trailed off. “Whatever. Who’s he going to tell?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you laughed. “Everyone knows we’re together anyway.”

Astarion smiled at you and kissed your cheek before lying back down. He sighed happily. “That we are, my love. That we are.”

[simplyholl]

The Birthday Gift

Summary: All of the Avengers forgot your birthday. Loki and Bucky make it up to you.

Pairing: Loki x F Reader, Bucky x F Reader, Loki x Bucky x F Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Threesome. Choking. Knife Play. Mild Blood Play. This is one spicy meatball.

W/C: 2K

See my Masterlist here

*This is a gift for myself and everyone who reads, because it’s my birthday! I couldn’t think of a better way to spend it than between these two. 💖

Today had been horrible. You were having a bad hair day. You shattered your phone screen. The restaurant you ordered take out from got your order wrong. The universe was cruel sometimes, so of course everyone also forgot today was your birthday. The two people who would never forget, who could make your day a million times better, were away on a mission. Loki and Bucky, your two best friends on the team.

You take the long way back to your room, the dread of spending the evening alone setting in. You should have caved and told the girls it was your birthday. They would have taken you out for drinks at least. But you’ll tough it out, watch your favorite show, and pass out surrounded by a mountain of snacks.

When you enter your room, you’re shocked to find Bucky and Loki waiting for you. “Surprise!” Loki almost sings. A cake with lit candles and a tub of ice cream is placed between them on your bed. You squeal with delight. “What are you guys doing here? I thought your mission would last a few more days.” “We finished and rushed back to you.” Bucky says pulling you toward his bulky body for a big hug. “Blow out your candles, darling. Make a wish.” Loki gestures toward your cake. You can’t believe they did this for you.

You close your eyes taking your time blowing out each candle. “I bet the team had a big party for you. Tell us about it.” You sigh debating on lying. Bucky looks at you expectantly. “They actually forgot about it. But you guys are here, and that’s all that matters.” You glance at your feet, holding back the tears threatening to spill. “Are you still feeling down, doll?” You nod. “It’s not you. I’m happy you’re here, and this is so thoughtful. It’s just been one of the worst days I’ve had in a while.”

They exchange glances, seemingly communicating telepathically. “Don’t let them ruin your night, love. We still have to give you your gift.” Loki’s blue eyes gleam. “Where is it?” you ask scanning your room for wrapped boxes, but finding nothing. “It’s us. We’re your gift. We are gonna make it up to you.” Bucky beams at you. “Wait. What?” you question looking between them. “Get on the bed. Let us take care of you, darling.” Loki removes the cake and ice cream they brought from your bed. Bucky begins shedding his clothes.

You lay back against your mattress. Loki climbs on top of you, extracting a small, shiny dagger from his suit. He places it in front of your face showing it to you. “Is this alright, little dove?” “Yes.” You whisper. Loki’s lips curl upward. “I knew you would like this. I’ve seen you watching me while I train with them.” He lowers the weapon to the collar of your sweater. The blade rips the fabric splitting it in two as he works it lower. When it’s ripped to your belly button, Loki uses his hands to finish, pulling the torn fabric off you. He zigzags the icy point down your stomach lightly so it won’t pierce your skin. You shiver with anticipation, blowing out a shaky breath. He makes quick work of your skirt, leaving you in your underwear.

Bucky places a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “I thought we were sharing our girl.” Loki chuckles, he stands discarding his leather apparel in the floor. Bucky takes Loki’s abandoned position, crashing his mouth to yours. He reaches between you grasping the fabric in the middle of your bra. He barely pulls on it, and the material splits. He roughly snatches the unwanted garment off your body. Loki sits beside you, massaging your now exposed breasts.

He tweaks each hardened peak between his long fingers. Bucky kisses his way down your neck until he’s on your other side parallel to Loki. They both take a sensitive nipple into their mouths. Bucky forcefully sucks while Loki lazily licks. You arch up into them. Loki’s dagger dances along your breast. You hold your breath when your nipple is released and the edge brushes against it.

Loki places a stream of kisses and nibbles along your stomach. His weapon follows the same pattern. Bucky presses his lips to your neck; his tongue sweeps the sensitive area. Loki pulls your panties down your legs, tossing them on top of his own pile of clothes. He runs the dagger over your thigh. You squirm under his attention. Loki reaches for the ice cream in the floor. He places small dallops on your soaked core. He lowers his head, his tongue parts your folds, lapping up every drop. “Mmm” he moans against you. You arch underneath him bringing your center closer to his face.

You close your thighs around his head. Loki’s hands part your legs, raising up. “It seems our girl is quite impatient.” Loki shakes his head in mock disappointment. Bucky moves down by your stomach, his hands locking around your thighs spreading them wide. Loki brings his head back down, flicking his tongue against your clit. You tremble beneath him. Bucky’s grip tightens. Your helpless whimpers fill the quite room. Loki’s lips close around your clit sucking firmly.

You hope Bucky will loosen his grasp, but he never falters. You feel the bubbles of heat low in your stomach threatening to spill over when Loki abruptly stops. He nods toward Bucky. He lets go of your legs, swiftly continuing his assault on your breasts. Loki strokes the dagger over your heated skin. He presses the blade to your thigh. The loss of your impending orgasm makes you desperate. At least that’s your explanation for your next words. “Loki, will you cut me?” You surprise yourself, asking for the one thing you had always fantasized about. Loki grins wickedly. “You trust me that much, my precious mortal? You would allow me to draw blood?”

You can’t think clearly while Bucky licks at your chest. But you’re sure of this. “Yes, Loki. I trust you completely.” Loki carefully traces the tender skin on the inside of your thigh, pressing the dagger harder each time. You cry out when the blade digs a little deeper, breaking the skin. Loki sits back admiring the small cut glistening red. He brings the weapon to his lips. His pink tongue darts out to taste the scarlet drops lining the sharp edges. He hums in approval. He lowers his head, licking the blood from your wound. Simultaneously, he dips his long fingers inside you curling upward, deliciously brushing your sweet spot.

Bucky nips your collarbone, as you ride Loki’s hand. His tongue laps at your small cut while his rough palm enticingly rubs against your clit. A high-pitched moan escapes you as you climax. Loki removes his hand dipping his head between your open legs once more to lick a stripe up your center. His tongue lowers to gather all the wetness accumulated there. When he’s satisfied he has collected every drop, he pulls himself off you. “Barnes, you must taste our girl, she is absolutely divine.” You shiver from his words.

He lifts you up as Bucky takes your spot on the bed. He places you on your knees beside him. “Sit on his face, darling.” Loki nudges you towards Bucky. You hover above his face placing your thighs on each side. “Good girl.” Loki croons. “Can’t wait to taste you, doll. I want you to soak my face.” Bucky grasps your hips jerking you down on his waiting mouth. Loki makes his way in front of you, kneeling. He attaches his lips to yours. You grasp his strong shoulders, while Bucky swirls his tongue against you. The scruff of his beard deliciously scratches the inside of your thighs as you wantonly ride his face. He locks his arms around your waist.

He glides his tongue through you with ease, swiping your clit with unhurried licks. Loki pinches your nipples, skillfully sucking a trail down your neck. Your fingers tangle in Loki’s black curls. Breathy moans leave your lips. You move your hips faster against Bucky’s face. He eats you ravenously. His tongue is unforgiving. He hungrily laps up everything you give him. You feel his teeth graze your most delicate spot. When Loki bites down on your neck, you shatter, a jumbled version of their names is shouted into the air. You reluctantly remove yourself from Bucky. Loki’s hands force you down on your hands and knees. He places one on your nape. The other pulls your disheveled hair into a messy ponytail in his grasp.

You clutch your sheets while he slams into you. You whimper when you feel a cold metal thumb swirl your clit. You meet Loki’s thrusts, throwing your ass back against him. Bucky presses light pecks against your neck, his vibranium thumb still working your swollen bud. Loki glances at Bucky, speaking with their minds again. Something tells you this isn’t the first time they’ve done this.

Suddenly, they flip you onto your back. Loki plunges back into you, lifting your legs over his shoulders. He latches onto your neck sucking the skin into his mouth. You whine as you spasm around him, feeling his warm seed spill into you. He withdraws himself from you. Bucky moves into a sitting position behind you. He lifts you like a ragdoll, pulling you down onto his hard erection. His arms pull your back flush against his chest. He starts thrusting underneath you.

“You take me so well, feels like you were made for me.” He bounces you on him when Loki’s thumb caresses your bottom lip. “Open.” You obey. Loki slides his thick cock between your lips. You moan when you taste yourself on him. You take him all the way in, choking on him at first. You bob your head against him, tightening your lips. You trace the veins along his length with your tongue drawing loud moans from him. Bucky fucks into you, his vibranium arm feels icy against your flushed skin as he holds you to him.

You feel Loki’s cum spilling out of you, trickling down your thighs. Bucky places his free hand around your throat, lightly squeezing. Loki’s hips snap faster lodging his cock deeper. Your throat tightens and you gag around Loki. You gasp for air, struggling to breathe. He pulls out of your mouth, Bucky loosens his grip. Bucky’s blue eyes darken, he growls into your ear “Be a good girl, and take all of him, or I’ll use the other hand. I won’t be so gentle then, angel.”

You desperately whimper. You shouldn’t be so turned on from him threatening you. You open your mouth wider flattening your tongue. Loki glides back in. Bucky increases the pressure on your neck. You dig your fingers into Loki’s hips pulling him impossibly closer. “That’s it. Good girl.” Bucky purrs. You thrust down against him. The angle perfectly hitting the spongy spot that makes your vision go hazy. You cry out, but it’s muffled by Loki’s throbbing cock. Loki palms one of your breasts. His other hand snakes down where you are joined with Bucky. You clench around him while Loki paints your clit with your arousal and his cum, still dripping out of you.

Your whole body shakes as another explosive orgasm rips through you. Loki’s large hands move to your hair, holding your head in place as he spills down your throat. Bucky tenses underneath you, clutching you closer as he cums. He lifts you off him placing your tired body on the bed beside Loki. He lays on your other side. Loki tenderly pecks your shoulder. Bucky takes your hand, caressing the back of it. “Happy Birthday, darling.” “I hope we made it memorable.” You sigh, completely spent and sure this would be one birthday you would never forget.

*Thank you @lokisgoodgirl for the Bucky threatening to choke you with his other hand idea. I love your filthy mind. ❤️

Tags

@fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @potter-puff007 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @coldnique @goblingirlsarah​ @mochie85 @wheredafandomat

[luvrodite]

WHERE YOU LEAD JASON TODD

↳ roommate!jason + gilmore girls

“Hey have you-what are you watching?”

You look up from where you’re nestled under your bedsheets and all thoughts of what he was going to ask promptly empty out of Jason’s head. He’s paused, leaning against your doorframe. This is a common occurrence, the wood has borne his weight so many times he wonders if he hasn’t left a dent in the frame.

He likes the routine the both of you have, and that for all you argue with him, you don’t seem to mind too much when he comes in to talk to you. If he had to pick a favourite spot in the apartment, Jason thinks he’d probably choose this, here. Standing in your doorway, the smell of the candles you’d burned the night before lingering in the air and the clutter of trinkets lining your desk.

Your laptop lays atop your sheets, and Jason leans closer to get a look at what’s on your screen.

“I’m watching my show,” you say and he notes the weariness lining your features.

A pang of sympathy strikes through him. He knows the week has been long, and the shadows under your eyes are deeper than they usually appear. He’s given you a wide berth these last few days, not wanting to piss you off any more than you already have been.

“Is that new?” He asks curiously. “Haven’t seen you watch that before.”

You make a face at him, slightly incredulous. “Jason, yes, you have. You literally saw me watching it last week, when you came home from work, remember?”

He squints. The faces on your screen do look vaguely familiar. You sigh.

“Forget about it. What were you saying?”

He grimaces. “Ah, I’ve forgotten now. Your show distracted me.”

You shake your head. When he lingers in the doorway, you look at him funny. “Do you…want to watch?”

Jason shrugs, making his way over. He’s sufficiently curious now, and you move over on your bed to make space for him. Briefly he wonders why the both of you don’t just watch it in the living room, but when he settles onto your mattress and the smell of your laundry detergent hits his nose, he doesn’t mind so much. Your bed is soft, and your room warm against the autumn chill.

The multitude of pillows on your bed make him snicker as he adjusts them, thinking of the various pillow forts he’d coerced his brother into making when they’d been younger. The tv show you’re watching is decidedly a lot tamer than the horror movies they’d stayed up all night watching, always ending with Dick and him creeping into Bruce’s room in the middle of the night, but he finds himself enjoying it all the same.

“So, what’s going on?” He asks and you pause it, looking troubled.

“Maybe we should watch the pilot,” you say. “You aren’t going to get everything that’s going on even if I explain it to you.”

He looks at you flatly. “Seriously? I can do fine on my own with context clues if you’re too lazy to explain it.”

You squawk at him indignantly, swatting his arm. “I am not lazy, you just need to be fully immersed!”

“Whatever, put the pilot on,” he grumbles and you nod, navigating through the website to start the show from the beginning.

And he really doesn’t think he’s going to enjoy it too much–they’re so quippy, it reminds him of Tim and Steph but the sun sinks in the sky and he’s curled up against you, watching mother and daughter exchange witty jokes, enraptured.

You lean against his side, commenting every so often on the nuances of Gilmore Girls, giggling when he scoffs at the characters, muttering his opinions to you in between the lines.

“This Luke guy’s the only sane one here,” he says and you snort. He looks down at you, grinning. “What?”

“Nothing,” you laugh, pressing your fingers to your mouth to hide your smile. He nudges you. “It’s just–I knew you’d say that. He’s so you.”

“He’s so grumpy,” Jason protests and you raise your eyebrows pointedly. His mouth drops open. "You think I'm grumpy?"

"You're not exactly all smiles," you argue, sitting up properly to look at him. He's still reclined against the pillows and for a moment he thinks he sees something flash in your eyes, faltering for the briefest moment before you continue. "You've always got something smart to say."

He laughs. "That's because you make it too easy."

You roll your eyes, and sit back, curling up under the blankets. Jason adjusts your laptop where it had been jostled. "Whatever, shut up and watch the show."

You fall asleep against him to the sounds of Emily and Lorelai arguing, and Jason thinks that when the next weekend comes around, he might have to negotiate with you so that he can continue watching it.

thank u for this request mage!! i hope you don't mind, but i thought it fit in well in the roommate au <3

[crazycurly-77]

Memory Loss - Chapter 9

On the way to Gibbs’ house you bought a few groceries which you brought to the kitchen. While entering you wondered for a short time if he would notice that his front door is locked. But no, it's completely normal for him. Like Ducky said. 

He took the bag you were holding out of your hand and put it on the work face. Then he held you by your upper arms, kissed your forehead and spoke softly “why don't you go showering and make yourself comfortable while I make dinner?” 

You smiled at him “are you sure?” 

“Yes, absolutely. Just take a shower and when you're finished dinner is ready” he mumbled, kissing you softly. 

“Okay” you whispered, kissing him back. 

Then turning around to go upstairs you suddenly felt a soft clap on your ass. 

Turning back to Gibbs with a slightly shocked look “Jethro!” He laughed and went back to cooking.

Stepping out of the shower and getting into cozy clothes you simply felt wonderful. But while you walked towards the kitchen you were met with the best and appetizingly scent you have ever smelled. You put one foot in front of the other as if you were in trance with your nose up in the air. 

Gibbs recognized you before you could make yourself known.

“Hey, there you are. Just in time. Food's ready. Come on and sit down. I'll bring the dinner” he said, smiling at you. 

So you walked over to the dining room table. This man was an unbelievable treasure, can you imagine? There were not only dishes there, but also flowers and glowing candles. Was he a romantic at heart? Could it really be? 

Then a plate with the best looking ever steak and potatoes was set in front of you. 

Gibbs then said “do you want a dry red wine or a beer? I personally prefer beer.”

“I want a beer, too. Thank you.”

Returning with two beers he opened them and sat beside you. 

“Enjoy your meal” you exchanged smiling. 

During dinner you talked about everything and nothing and you tasted the very best steak you had ever had. 

You thought “so he is a chauvi, a sarcastic bad guy who likes bossing people around, but he is a gentleman too, and he can be so sweet and he is sexy and he can cook and he can kiss that your world is turned upside down. When he likes to cuddle too, I really don't know how I should be able to resist him.”

The dishes you did together in no time and after that you sat on the couch and watched a movie. Gibbs was taking a shower too and in no time he was walking into the living room in one of his old USMC shirts and shorts. 

“Wow, I've never seen him in casual clothes, but it looks very sexy on him.” you thought and hoped very much that these thoughts weren't showing on your face. After all, he was still your boss. 

Said boss came directly to you and sat by your side. He wrapped you savely in his arms so you were basically cuddling and you felt in your own personal safe haven using your big soft teddy bear as a pillow. 

As tough as he was as an agent, he was as soft as a big teddy bear as a partner. Two completely different sides, very interesting. 

Slowly you were getting tired and you wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms and sleep until morning. But no, that was no option. You had to go to sleep in your own bed alone, for the sake of your heart. 

So you entangled yourself from him, kissed him and wished him a good night. 

Then you walked to your bed in the guest room, where you had placed your things.

A short while after you had laid down you were suddenly lifted up from your bed and as you opened your eyes you found yourself in Gibbs’ arms. 

“Where are you taking me?” you asked him, your voice full of sleep. 

“To our bed, where you belong to” came his immediate answer. 

He laid you on his bed and climbed inside on his side, too. Then he covered you both with the blanket, put his arms around you and pulled you tightly against his chest. 

He kissed your neck softly “goodnight my love, sleep tight.”

You sighed deeply drifting off to sleep once more “goodnight my love, sweet dreams.”

“Yeah, of you. Like every night since the moment I first laid my eyes on you.” he whispered, then closed his eyes and fell asleep, too. 

Unfortunately you didn't hear a word he had answered, because you were already asleep. If you had noticed and had really paid attention to what he was saying and doing, you would have recognized that your feelings were not one-sided, far from that to be exact. 

So the two of you slept cuddling tightly until the next morning on which you thankfully could sleep in, because you are allowed to go to work later than normal.

(To be continued...)

--------------------------------------------

Here you will find the other chapters of this story and the other stories I've written to date.

--------------------------------------------

Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27

--------------------------------------------

[gamerbearmira]

YOU CAN'T TURN AWAY WE'LL MAKE YOU WANNA STAY❗❗❗

I've been thinking about this au 🙏🙏 taking a break from art fight and I wrote this along with some of these drawings. Just the sillies being the sillies and being very influential and slightly manipulative to Alma.

For the greater good obviously 🦀🦀 they gotta protect their secret somehow, and they can't have Alma questioning how Mirabel has some acess to magic is the candle is failing to be their cover story 🌚

LE GE I

-----

Bruno stared at his mother. She looked at him and he was holding the vision she asked him to have. He usually only had vision whenever he felt like it, or whenever he needed to rile up some villagers, but his mamá seemed worried. And he was a little shocked at Mirabel's door disappearing, but it's not like she wouldn't have..."other" means of getting magic.

"Is that it?" Alma asked, closing her bedroom door. Bruno had been standing outside of it, debating if he should show her. He quickly backed away as she got closer, confusing her.

"I-I...it's nothing, don't worry about it," Bruno shrugged, giving a wry smile but Alma wasn't falling for it.

"Bruno, let me see," Alma pressed, but he didn't let him. He only had a second to react when Alma started walking towards him, her hand out to take the vision. He could sense the worry frustration and many other rather negative emotions and while yes, he loved nothing more than to rile people up and feed off their emotions, especially with his visions, but his mamá was not one of those people.

"Mama, I don't think that's a good idea," he said, and he stumbled back a bit, oushing the vision further into his ruana.

"Bruno, just let me see! We need to know if something is wrong!" Alma said and Bruno shook his head. Alma was about to move closer when a hand stopped her. She looked back and saw Pepa standing there, and Julieta was standing next to her. They both had strange smiles on their faces but Alma didn't pay it much mind.

"Mamá, why are you shouting? It's late, is something wrong?" Pepa asked in a soft voice and Bruno started back away while their mamá was distracted.

"Bruno had that vision, and I need to see it! I need to know if something happened to the miracle," Alma explained and Julieta and Pepa circled her for a moment before Julieta smiled.

"Oh, but...is Mirabel not having a gift really that bad?" Julieta asked and Alma blinked for a moment. She didn't even notice the two sisters harmonizing between words.

"W-What? Of course it is!" She tried to argue but Pepa looked at her strangely.

"Is it? I mean...you don't have a gift. You do a lot of work in town. And Mirabel's very helpful. You could say...she doesn't even need a gift," Pepa said and Alma looked down for a moment. She half shrugged.

"I...I suppose, but-" Alma was cut off by Julieta, but she didn't even seem mad abiut ut, despite her deep hate for being cut off or interrupted.

"And Mirabel seemed so happy about the after party. You saw how sad she looked," Julieta continued. "She was heartbroken."

"She was..." Alma said. Her brain grew foggy. What was she upset about again? "It is her birthday, so maybe..."

Julieta and Pepa exchanged a look, smirking as their mothers emotions fueled them further.

"Are you saying we should throw he another party? That's a great idea!" Julieta beamed and Alma looked at her, dazed a bit, a green glint in her eye.

"Did I?" Alma mummured. "I...I guess I am. I guess her not having a gift is so bad...A-And we can redo the party."

Julieta held her mothers hands, looking into her vacant eyes. "See? I knew you'd come around. Now, why don't you go off to bed. We have a lot to plan tomorrow."

Alma nodded, her movements mechanical yet somehow fluid as she left to her room. Julieta and Pepa watched her for a moment before Bruno came back.

"Thanks you guys," Bruno sighed. "She was getting too close to seeing the vision." Julieta and Pepa turned to their brother nodded.

"Oh it's no problem. We know how...pushy Mamá can be," Pepa shrugged.

"What was in that vision anyway?" Julieta asked. Bruno gave her a knowing look.

"Oh," Julieta said, crossing her arms. She and her younger siblings glanced up at the candle. "That."

-----

OMINOUS ENDING LETS GOOOOO 🦅🦅

Anywayyyy I think Mirabel didn't seem to beat up about not getting magic; a "Gift", from the candle. She was more excited about the magic her mama, tia Pepa, Tio Bruno, her sisters and primo had. And Camilo had been hyping it up in the months from his birthday to hers.

[blueraineshadows]

Could I pretty please request awkward, yet sweet first-time sex between Ominis and female MC? MC is very nervous being a virgin and is worried about it hurting, maybe after she gets a good look at him down there 👀

But we all know Ominis is a gentleman and would be nothing but gentle and sweet with her at first but I think he’d be nervous too, especially since he can’t see her. I just really wanna read about them losing it to each other. And I’d love to see Ominis disheveled and consumed by his lust for her.

Hello 👋 Thank you for your Request 💜

Ominis Gaunt x F!MC - fluff, First time lovers

I took the liberty of making it their Wedding Night 🥰🔞 NSFW

She was married, joined at last with the man she loved, by vows and rings exchanged. Ominis Gaunt had stolen her heart when they had been at school, courted it, cherished it, and now she was his wife.

Her heart pounded nervously as they entered the bed chamber, the little hotel having set the room with romantic candles and vases of flowers. There was even rose petals scattered on the bed. She gasped at how lovely it all looked, and immediately she felt a steady hand at the small of her back.

"Is everything alright, my love?" Ominis asked.

"Yes, it's lovely, the room is very romantic," she blushed. Her pulse fluttered like a tiny bird at the feel of his hand on her back. It was silly really, he had touched her there many times, delicate pressure of reassurance, affection, and when escorting her.

Tonight it meant something else, though. Tonight, they would make the final exchange that would seal their love, their commitment. She would become his, completely, and her body thrummed with nervous anticipation.

Ominis took her hands into his, his fingers gently soothing over her skin. "I finally have you all to myself," he smiled. "I have had to share your company all day, and I must admit, I have been longing for this time alone with you, with my wife."

His voice softened at that last word. She squeezed his hands, loving him so much she felt entirely breathless. "It has been quite the day, hasn't it? And it went so quickly!"

He moved closer, his face inches from hers, she stared up at him, still overcome with how truly beautiful he was. He was almost ethereal, like an angel in a classical painting, she reached up to place trembling fingers against his cheek, his skin soft and pale under her touch.

She welcomed the soft kiss he gave her, the gentle brush of lips a joy she always cherished. His kiss lingered, his mouth daring to taste her for longer than was usual for them. She heard the delicate shift of his breathing, knowing that this kiss would lead to more. She cupped his face, holding him there, her body tentative but curious as she felt the warmth of shared desire.

Her breath shook a little as they drew slightly apart. He caressed her cheek, the tip of his nose nudging hers. "Please, don't be frightened," he said. "I would never hurt you."

"I'm not frightened, my love," she replied, immediately. "I could never be frightened of you. Although, I am a little nervous. I'm afraid I have suddenly become rather shy. I would not want to disappoint my husband."

"I will be gentle," he whispered. He kissed her, a delicate touch of lips. "I cannot deny how much I yearn for you, but I am in your hands my love. We will only do what is comfortable for you. Your delight is my delight, and I doubt I could ever be disappointed. Agreeing to be my wife in the first place has filled with me so much happiness."

Tears burned her eyes, her heart aching with her love and gratitude for finding a man such as him. "I love you, so very much," she whispered.

He smiled. "Then let us prepare for bed, Mrs Gaunt, for I wish to show you how much I love you in return."

The dressing screen was rather pointless when your husband couldn't see you, but MC still slipped behind it to remove her gown and pull on a soft nightdress. She could hear the rustle of clothing as Ominis undressed, her heart in her mouth as she smoothed trembling hands over her hips.

She had never seen a man naked before in the flesh, only drawings in books. She had read up a bit on sexual relations, and felt the trepidation that came from being exposed to another, vulnerable. But also, there was a heightened sense of curiosity, of the need to feel the heat of him against her flesh.

With a deep breath, she moved out from behind the screen, her hair unbound and flowing over one shoulder. Omins was sitting up in the bed, his chest bare, the pale skin smooth and beautiful in the candle light. He held out a hand to her and she hurried forward to take it.

They lay together under the covers, his arms a warm embrace, his mouth pressing soft kisses against hers. MC returned them, adjusting to the feel of his body wrapped closely with hers, the way their legs were entangled.

The intimacy brought a warm flush to her face, her hands slid along his back, his arms, and then she felt his hand on her thigh, hot through the thin fabric of her nightgown. Slowly, he slid upwards, dragging the material with him, and her breath quickened.

She didn't know what to do, wishing she did, but her body seemed to ache, a slow, burning throb beginning between her thighs that made her want to squeeze and clench, she desired some kind of friction and she was shocked at how her hips seemed to flex against him with an eagerness that embodied the urgency in her core.

Was she being too wanton? Too eager? As her pelvis rubbed sensually against his, her breath caught at the hardness of him, the press of his manhood against her softness. Oh my...

His head dipped and he made a low, soft sound, his own pelvis moving to meet hers. The ache between her thighs sharpened, it grew hot and she had a sudden desire to kiss him, her mouth seeking his.

They seemed to have slid across a line, polite courtesy was being cast adrift as his tongue entered her mouth. He had never kissed her like this before, and she moaned, her hips rolling upwards again at the delicious way he tasted her mouth.

His hand slid higher up her thigh, her nightdress becoming twisted about her hips as he smoothed his hand up and under it. She felt the roughness of the hair on his legs, the silky throbbing brush of his arousal was hot against her skin.

"Ominis," she moaned.

"Yes, my love," he whispered. "Tell me, tell me what you are feeling. You feel so wonderful, I am quite overcome with the need for you."

She writhed against him and he groaned, rocking his hips to rub that hardness against her thigh. She felt wetness leaking from him and boldly slipped a hand down to feel it for herself.

He was so hard, yet so silky soft, her fingers trailing over the length before she wrapped her whole hand around it. Her thighs squeezed with want, while her eyes widened at the thought of how it was going to fit inside her. She had not expected it to feel so long and thick.

She rubbed her hand over it and he made a sound, low and deep and utterly arousing. She looked at this face, he was flushed a beautiful pink, lips parted and eyes closed in bliss.

"Gods, I want to feel you," he said, voice strained. "Please..."

MC had touched herself before, curious exploration of her own sex. There had been sensitiveness, a building heat that had overwhelmed her enough to stop. The thought of his graceful fingers doing the same made her throb. She took his hand and guided it down between her thighs. "Touch me," she whispered. "I am yours."

At the first brush of his fingers she whined, her back arching up off the bed as he gently explored. She could hear the wetness of herself, her hips moving of their own accord as he spread that slick, probing gently until she felt a finger slid inside.

"Oh my...MC, you are divine," he groaned. He became flustered, his finger moving in and out. His face became strained and he shook his head. "It's no good, I've just got to...forgive me."

She panted, eyes wide. "What is it?"

He slid down the bed. "I have to taste it, fuck, I need it!" He was practically begging, his hands pushing her thighs apart, his mouth hot as he pressed it against the inner flesh there, drawing it up into a suck, the noise of it so dirty but arousing.

She gasped, staring, shocked, at his blonde head as he settled between her thighs. She had not seen drawings of this in her book! She felt his hot breath on her most intimate parts, a strangled moan leaving her throat as his nose nudged her soft folds. "Ominis," she gasped.

He moaned, deep and feral, and then she cried out, a high desperate whine, as his tongue slid erotically over her heat. Oh my goodness!

She stared up at the bed canopy, mouth open, not seeing anything but a red haze of lust, his mouth doing wicked, amazing things that made her body scream with flickering flame. Her desperate cries and moans filled the room at that soft, luscious swirl of tongue. The filthy wet sound of it made her flush, but she was grinding her hips greedily, soaring on a wave of fire that stole her breath.

Release came swiftly, shockingly, her hips bucking and cries spiling from her lips. She felt dizzy, dazed with the intensity of it. She stared as Ominis pushed up with his hands, the lower half of his face shiny with her sex, he wiped it with his hands. "You are delicious my love," he groaned. "Now, now I need to take you. You have driven me quite wild."

She reached for him. "Come to me," she begged. She was flustered, eyeing his flushed state as he moved up to settle his hips between her legs. She caught sight of his cock, swollen, hungry, and she gulped. "My goodness," she muttered. "That is rather large."

He chuckled. "Don't worry, my love. I made sure you were good and ready for me, but I will go slow, I promise."

Her desire flickered and rekindled at his saucy talk. She smoothed her hands over his beautiful body, sighing in pleasure as he lined himself up to her entrance. The first press of him made her tense, but he whispered soft encouragement, his hands caressing her curves.

"It's alright, you're my good girl," he whispered. "I want to be inside you so badly, you are so hot and wet, it drives me crazy. Relax, darling, let me in."

She moaned, his words sending shivers over her. "I want you," she sighed. "Take me, fuck me..."

He gasped, stilling, his head tilting curiously. "My, my, MC, such dirty words from your pretty lips," he said. He smirked. "I quite like it..."

He pushed a little further in, stretching her. She panted, her walls quivering. "Such a good girl, taking me like this."

"Yes, more, please," she begged.

He slid back a little, making her whimper, before pushing in further still. He moaned, desperate, and repeated the move. She felt the resistance, her flesh trying to stop him. "More," she panted. "You may have to push harder, I can take it."

He did, groaning as he desperately tried not to hurt her. Then suddenly her flesh gave way, a sharp sting signalling her acceptance. He slid quite deep, the pressure and stretch shocking at first, but then as he rolled his hips, it eased into pleasure and she moaned.

Ominis pulled her close against his chest, pressing kisses over her hair, his hands soothing her. "Oh, my love, my precious, precious girl. I love you," he said, passionately. He sighed. "So brave and beautiful...and gods, you feel so good."

She loved him too, burying her face against him, breathing in his scent, their bodies joined in the most intimate of ways. She savoured that brief, precious moment, before desire overtook them, and Ominis began to move.

There was no more pain, only pleasure. MC swooned under his worship, taking him thrust by thrust, drowning in his grunts and whimpers. She caressed him, gripped his hips, wrapped her legs about him, greedy for him.

Watching him find release reminded her of the euphoric daze he had left her in, and she pressed sweet kisses all over him, whispering her love for her husband, her heart swelling with the knowledge that they could do this, over and over.

Wrapped up close in his arms, MC dozed into sleep feeling safer and more loved than she ever had in her whole life. And now she had a whole lifetime to share with him. She had never been happier.

[dustydoop]

A little Chelley Christmas ficlet

“Chell, love, it’s alright! I am more than capable of not destroying the house in the two hours you’ll be gone. You’ve left me here for longer than that and nothing happened.” 

Chell humphed, true, but that was before he had limbs. Gangly, awkward, danger-inducing limbs. She rolled her eyes and began to put on her jacket. Fine…

Wheatley’s blue eyes lit up. “I promise, I won’t make a mess. Actually, it’ll look better than when you left it! Now go, you don’t want to be late to your office Christmas party. Mae’s going to be waiting for you, go!” He gently shoved Chell by the shoulders as she rushed to grab her stuff. Wheatley waved as she hopped in her car, waited until he couldn’t see her anymore, and ran back inside. 

“K.A.N.A! K.A.N.A! K.A.N.A! K.A.N.A! Hey, hey, I have a question,” Wheatley said as he opened Chell’s laptop. “How does one decorate a house for these holidays Chell has been telling me about?” 

K.A.N.A. whipped around, startled. “Ight man, slow down. Decorating? You sure?”

“Yes! She took me to the store two days ago after I said I wanted ou-her house to look like all the wintery movies that every channel has been playing this whole month. So, we have the tree made of plastic, some tiny light bulbs that are all together, shiny fluffy stuff, and ORBS!” Wheatley exclaimed as he showed off the ornaments they had chosen, one box of silver, one of blue, and one of orange. 

K.A.N.A. sighed. “Alright, you’re going to want to put the layers of tree together into one big tree and set it… In that corner there, next to those posters. There’s an outlet for the lights and it’s open enough. 

Wheatley set himself in doing just that. Eventually, he had the tree set up, and a bunch of lights in his hands. 

“And now I wrap the tree in these lights? How on earth am I supposed to-” Wheatley began messing with the string. After around five minutes, it seemed as though there were more lights around him than the tree. “K.A.N.A, I think I need help.”

“Sorry, can’t.” 

“And why not?” 

K.A.N.A. raised her digital arms. “No physical body, doofus. You gotta figure it out yourself.” 

“Ughhh, fine…” 

“And you have to do the same thing with the tinsel.” 

“... the what?” 

Eventually, all of the decorations were on the tree. True, it took much longer than it should have, but at least he did it. Wheatley stepped back to look at his work. “Oh, this is great, isn’t it great, K.A.N.A?” 

“Yeah, yeah it looks pretty good but uhh, where’s the angel?”

Wheatley glared at the avatar. “You never mentioned anything about that, what do you mean the angel?” 

“You know, the Christmas tree angel. Pretty looking woman in a dress, she’s got wings, all that, goes on top of the tree.” 

Wheatley ruffled through the bags, trying to find something that matched that description. “We don’t have one of those. K.A.N.A, what do I do, what do I do, ughh I’m going to ruin all this, aren’t I? Oh, of course I am, dumb little Wheatley tries to do something nice for Chell and it all turns to crap, why did I even bother?” He slumped into the couch, burying his head in his hands. 

“Hold on, no, no, no, I got this, pretty woman with wings, right? Give me one second.” 

Two hours had passed since Chell had left for her company Christmas party, and she was more than ready to leave. Even with her new-found appreciation for others, her social battery was drained. She drove home, ready to relax with the new vanilla honey scented candle she had received from the white elephant gift exchange. As she pulled into her driveway, Chell noticed a purple-ish glow behind the window curtains. 

What had Wheatley done this time?

Chell opened the door, demanding to know what the heck Wheatley was up to. As she turned to look at the whole room, she realized where the colorful light had come from. Wheatley had set up their Christmas tree. Chell’s tone softened as she apologized for her tone, but her apology quickly turned to laughter as she realized what Wheatley was doing. He was standing on his tip-toes, about to use a rack of the bookshelf as a stepstool. One arm was stretched to the top, desperately trying to put something on the top of the tree. 

Chell walked over and grabbed whatever it was in order to examine it. It was a piece of cardboard with a cardstock cone taped to the back. Turning it over, Chell realized the front had a picture of her taped to it, a photo Wheatley had taken soon after their escapade returning to Aperture. They went to a cute little cafe a town over, Chell even wore the only dress in her closet in celebration. Stock photo angel wings were glued behind her, vaguely near her shoulder blades. She chuckled as she asked Wheatley what this was supposed to be. 

“Well, K.A.N.A. told me that, usually, you humans put a figurine of an angel on top of your holiday trees for whatever reason. BUT! We did not buy one, so I made one! See, pretty woman, wearing a dress, I put little wings on you, I’ll admit my arts and craft skills aren’t as fine tuned as I would like, but it’s the thought that counts. Now let me put this on the tre-” Wheatley cut off as he continued to reach the point of the tree. “How tall is this tree, nine feet tall? This is ridiculous.” 

The tree was, in fact, only seven feet tall. Wheatley’s new body was just rather short. Chell took the homemade angel from him again and easily placed the cone on the one branch at the top of the tree. Wheatley stared up in awe as Chell reached above his head. 

At the same time, Chell looked down, Wheatley’s face was radiating more heat than a bonfire as his jaw dropped. She was trapping him between the wall and herself, wasn’t she? She backed down, apologizing for getting in his personal space. 

“Oh, no I don’t mind, do that all you want, love. I- uh, hope you like the tree.” 

Chell gave Wheatley a quick peck on the cheek, reassuring how much she loved it. It really did bring their house together. 

“Wait, our house?” Wheatley asked. 

Chell grabbed his hand, of course this was his place too, if he wanted. 

Wheatley’s face lit up as he wrapped his hand around Chell’s. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, love.” <3

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

John The Baptiser | Home | Romantic

Requested: Yes

Domestic life with John is far from conventional, but you’re making the best out of it.

Drenched in sweat, you sit up in bed as a particularly painful strain on your bladder makes you utterly uncomfortable. Hissing through gritted teeth, you put a hand on your tummy, that has started to become extraordinarily large in the past few weeks, now that your final trimester has rolled around. 

Huffing a breath, you cradle your pregnant stomach as you manage to get yourself out of bed towards the outhouse to relieve yourself, accompanied by the scrawny dog that keeps guard at your door in exchange for scraps. You’ve received a few odd stares from the townsfolk for keeping the skinny hound around, but you’re used to worse judgement from them, like when you decided to marry the ‘madman’ of the village – their words, not yours.

You love John to bits, and you know that these feelings are reciprocated, but it is difficult not having him around. Especially in your current state. The Baptiser has been gone for months and has written only twice. He isn’t even aware that you’re expecting your first child soon, which is something you wished he’d have been around for more often.

You know what you were signing up for when marrying him, though. You had known it the moment you met Jesus. 

The Kingdom is worth your temporary loneliness. What is nine months of pregnancy compared to the work for eternity that John is performing for the Most High? It is nothing but expected that the cousin of the very Messiah, who was conceived for the sole purpose of preparing a way in the desert for Him, will be on the road for this ministry more often than not. Jesus’ work has not yet started, so John does not yet rest. 

It is not easy, but it cannot compare to what is coming. 

You wipe yourself clean whilst pondering about your life, absentmindedly caressing your tummy. Once you set foot outside the outhouse, you’re surprised to find the stray dog staring into the distance rather than watching you, its ears twitching on full alert. It lowers on its front legs, its rear in the air, ready to pounce, and you gulp nervously, hugging the cloak you had thrown over your shoulders a little tighter around your form, your gaze going to the back door of your house. 

A low growl from the dog makes your heart drop and you rush towards your home on your bare feet to your best ability, not even minding getting them dirty. The dog barks and lunges forward into the night, his teeth showing in the light of the candle you’re holding, and you barge through your own door, only to slam it shut, reaching for the lock with quivering hands. 

The dog barks and your knees weaken out of fear. You put a hand on your chest to try to calm your racing heart, but it leaps only further when the sudden sound of a key in the door echoes through your room. 

You can only be confused for a second. “Easy, back off! I’ve got no food on me!” 

Relief floods over you as well as joy. 

You have never been so glad to hear a certain familiar voice before. 

“John!”

You immediately unlock the door and your husband stands in the frame, surprised to find you here. “(Y/n)!” he quips, “You’re awake? I’m so sorry, my love, I didn’t mean to rouse you–”

“John, I’m so glad to see you!” 

He smiles and you step back to allow him inside, and he crosses the threshold into the slightly dark room. You rush to light up some candles whilst he locks the door again and washes his feet, happy to take off his sandals.

“What a surprise to see you here so suddenly!” you breathe, still not quite comprehending what has been happening in the past minute or so, “I… How were your travels, love? I want to know everything! I can make you some food if you want, or draw you a hot bath, or…” 

When you turn over your shoulder to face him, your husband is staring at you dumbfoundedly, his gaze focused upon your stomach. His mouth falls open in slight shock, making you a tad anxious. You cradle your bump, suddenly realising that he had no idea that you were pregnant.

With a thud, John drops his bag to the floor. The dull sound it makes indicates that the entire thing is empty. 

You open your mouth to speak first. “Darling, I–”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “Do you have any idea how happy I am right now? I love you.” He is in front of you within a second and wraps his arms around you firmly, holding you close as he embraces you, warmly yet careful, as if he is afraid to crush you. John hasn’t bathed in weeks, but you don’t mind it at all. You return the sentiment, looping your arms around his body, and you stand like that for a while, enjoying one another’s company.

“For how long have you been pregnant?” John queries, his breath against your neck as he does not break the hug.

“I found out about two months after you left, a little longer than that.” you explain. “When I visited the physician to check why I hadn’t been bleeding in a while, she revealed to me that I was expecting. It also explained my morning sickness.”

John draws away from the hug so that he can look you in the eye, and he gently cups your face into his familiar palms. Resting his forehead against yours, he smiles. “I can barely believe it… This is wonderful. You are wonderful. I can’t wait to…” 

His gleeful demeanour drops suddenly, his eyes glittering with a different emotion this time. Tears shimmer in the corners thereof, his lips tightening themselves into a worried frown. 

In return, your own smile falls as well. “Is anything the matter?”

John’s voice wavers. “The ministry,” he whispers. “I… I wish that I could be with you through all of this. I’ve already missed the first six… Seven months, I…” Guilt laces through his tone and you swallow thickly, your cheeks feeling flushed with the urge to cry. “I don’t want you to feel alone.”

“John, I am never alone.” You point upwards, “Adonai is always with me.”

He smiles, momentarily looking down to take your hands in his, and he brings them up to his lips to kiss them. “I know,” he mutters, “But it is not what I mean. Adonai does not move your hair out of your face when you feel ill, or prepare your meals when you cannot do that yourself, or do the heavy labour around the house. I’m so deeply sorry that I haven’t been here, my love.”

You shake your head, giving him a watery smile. “Oh, John, there is no need to apologise. I know what I was getting myself into when I decided to become your wife, and it is so worth it. I am so proud of you, John. On my behalf, you should never compromise on your ministry. It is what you have been made for. It is your calling, which comes before me, always.”

John sighs, closing his eyes to battle the tears. He pinches the bridge of his nose to fight them and he shudders a breath. “Receiving you from God has been such a gift. Having a child with you only adds onto that, and…” He cradles your tummy, taking it fully in for the first time, and he exhales shakily. “I do not deserve this. But if He is merciful, and if it is part of His plan, I want to stay here with you.”

“Of course, John, this is your home, too. You can stay with me always, no matter what happens.”

“I mean that He allows me to stay here until the baby has been born and you’ve been nursed back to health.”

You open your mouth to reply, but the words get stuck. Instead, you smile at him bittersweetly, taking in every detail of his face. Every crevice, every freckle, wrinkle and blemish, his boyish grin, the playful glint behind his eyes that you had fallen in love with all these years ago. Humming, you step closer to him, so that you can press a gentle kiss upon his cheek. 

“It would be too much to ask of Him.” you sigh. “Time is of the essence. You need to prepare the way.”

“It can wait.”

You frown. “John, your ministry–”

“(Y/n),” he cuts you off, “I am sure that He can miss me for two to three months.”

The feeling of his hands on your stomach is one that you want to lock away in a box to keep and cherish forever. Safety, paired with determination and devotion to you, makes it so that you wish that you could stay in this moment for eternity.

Seeing your doubtful look causes him to smile reassuringly. “Sweetheart,” John says, tucking some hair behind your ear, “The Father will understand.”

Nevertheless, you aren’t convinced and close your eyes, tears burning behind them all of a sudden. “John,” you whisper, ”At least speak to Jesus about this… Please. The last thing I want is to stand in the way of the Father because of…” your voice trails off and you gesture at your tummy, which John lovingly touches.

“I will,” he responds, then grins. “You know,” he pipes up, “I think Jesus would love to know about us expecting as well. Although I’ve got no idea where He is, I want Him to hear it from you rather than from me.”

You bite your lip and smile. “I would like that,” you say, even though you are not certain if you’ll get to meet Him again before the baby is born.  

John sighs wistfully, smiling at you a tad apologetically. “I’m sorry that I haven’t visited home sooner. I know what you’re going to say, my love, that this is the life we chose for ourselves and that you are of the opinion that the ministry will always come before you. But in this case, just this once, I beg to disagree. This life with you, my dear (Y/n), is one of the greatest gifts that Adonai ever bestowed upon me. In spite of this all, we will make it work, alright?”

Inhaling deeply, you smile and nod determinedly. “Yes,” you muse, wrapping your arms around his neck. You stand on your tiptoes to briefly kiss him, and he protectively puts his hands on your stomach as he returns the favour. After a few moments, you pull away, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. 

“It is wonderful to have you back,” you murmur, “But promise me something, John.”

He gives you an expectant look as he awaits your words. 

“If the ministry needs your attention, if He needs your focus, I want you to promise me that you will listen, no questions asked. Even though you’re going to be a father, you must remain focused on the Kingdom. Even if this means leaving me and a newborn baby behind.”

The Baptiser’s eyes fill with unshed tears and he blinks them away just as quickly as they have formed. He deeply sighs and cups your face, searching it for any sign of regret. An apology forms on his lips, one where he says that he is sorry for putting you up with this, that you often have to miss him, that you had to go through most of your pregnancy all on your own, but he knows what you will say. It remains there when you reassuringly gaze up at him.

It is okay. No matter what happens, in the end it will work out.

Both of you hold onto that.

Facing tomorrow is a little less daunting with Adonai at your side. 

“I love you,” he says for the second time that night, and you smile sweetly, pushing some of his wild locks behind his ears.

“I love you too,” you answer, and you kiss him for a little longer before pulling away, giving him a curious look. “But before you go to bed, would you mind quickly washing up? I will make you some food in the meantime.”

John cannot help but grin. “My dear,” he states, “You are already doing way too much for me.”

“And I am doing it gladly,” you counter, and he kisses your forehead before circling you, a lingering hand on your tummy as he passes you by towards the washroom. 

You look after him, sighing exhaustedly yet satisfied, and you support your stomach from the bottom as a gentle kick makes you jolt slightly. “That was your abba,” you whisper softly to your unborn child, “And I am certain that he will be the best abba that you can wish for.”

Relieved, you push away your drowsiness to prepare your husband a quick meal, listening to the sounds of him rummaging around the washroom, and you doubt that you have ever felt happier.

[drawnbadly-blog]

Hellish Bells 11: Dinner Date 9

Vaggie asked, “Are you sure we should invite him in like that? Brainstorming flower arrangements is an entirely different thing than inviting him in to spend time with us .”

Charlie nodded as she pulled out her new outfit. Vaggie had a similar one. She was rather proud; she’d remembered to go to the cobbler to get some shoes for her hooves. As she slipped on the dress, she said, “We keep going to his tower to have our dates. We should be the ones to host him this time!”

“I get that you’re excited and all. What I don’t get is why you ordered a meal from Derell Elnardo. I would’ve expected you to, you know, have me cook it?” Vaggie sounded a little hurt.

“I want us to be able to relax, not worry about whether the cherries on the cake are centered!” She pulled the dress down past her rear where it settled against her thigh, the beads at the bottom clacking noisily. “Don’t you want to enjoy our company?”

“You always make things sound so simple.” Vaggie shook her head. “I would’ve at least liked to make those Rockefeller oysters.”

“I’m sure our chef will get it right!” Charlie punched the air in front of her. “He’ll go BAM and the meal will be perfect!”

“Hopefully he doesn’t get drunk on the job,” Vaggie murmured.

“Don’t be so negative! This is going to go smoothly, I can feel it!” Charlie took Vaggie’s hands in hers. “Things will turn out better than you think they will.”

“Considering I’m expecting the penthouse to start on fire…” Vaggie trailed off as she let go of Charlie’s hands and, too, slipped her dress on.

“Nothing will happen! I promise.” Charlie put the pearls around her neck. “And if it does, I’ll take care of it.”

“Ohhh, a promise.” Vaggie wrapped her arms around Charlie. “You’re really looking forward to this, aren’t you?”

Charlie admitted, “Yeah. A lot.”

She could feel the smile against her neck. “I’ll do my best to make it a good night.”

Charlie’s eyes watered. “Thank you, Vaggie.”

Charlie and Vaggie waited for Alastor to show up. The meal was ready: hot, steaming derby hot browns, the sauce’s heat making the open-faced sandwiches smell divine; Rockefeller oysters, shiny and delicious looking; blackened pork Caesar salads, everything crisp and green; Manhattan clam chowder packed with vegetables; and gelatin with pineapple in it complete with warm spiced cider punch.

Vaggie checked the clock on the wall. “He’ll be here any minute.”

“Ohhhhh, I hope he comes soon!” Charlie looked around at the shadows trying to guess which one Alastor would pop out of.

Charlie jumped when there was a knock on the door. The two women exchanged glances. “Who could that be?” Charlie asked. “I hope it isn’t something important…”

Vaggie went and opened the door. To both their surprises it was Alastor. He was dressed down from normal, with a very baggy zoot suit on instead of any tux or his regular clothes. He visibly perked up when he saw the two of them. He said, “Excellent! I felt like this was going to be a themed dinner. Glad to not disappoint! You two look lovely.”

He was obviously referring to their dresses. Charlie’s was a brown flapper dress, pearls and beads decorating everything. She had a matching cloche hat decorated with feathers. Vaggie’s was a blue flapper dress, tassels instead of beads and a decorated headband around her head. The way they were crafted showed that they were related pieces.

“Come on in,” Vaggie said, a hand bidding him to enter. He did just that, walking in as Vaggie closed the door behind him.

Alastor visibly sniffed the air and exclaimed, “Is that a derby hot brown I smell?”

“Yes!” Charlie brightened up as Alastor walked up to the table they’d set up in the middle of the room. The round table was set up with a luxury tablecloth, Louis IV’s best tablewares, and a black burning candle in the middle. Charlie pulled a chair out for Alastor. His eyebrow twitched. Before he could say anything, she said, “We’re the hosts! The guest gets seated first.”

Alastor narrowed his eyes before saying with a tight smile, “Using my own words against me? I didn’t think you had it in you!”

“You’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg with us,” Vaggie noted. “I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Charlie was wondering what Vaggie was talking about. To her growing confusion, Alastor laughed and nodded. “Indeed I have.”

She looked between the two, trying to decode the message the two were sharing. They didn’t elaborate; instead, they started a conversation on power dynamics. Charlie watched and listened to them out of the corner of her eye and ear as she served herself, Vaggie, and Alastor the food.

They were entirely absorbed in their conversation. Feeling left out, Charlie began downing the oysters like there was no tomorrow.

She was mid-gulp on her fifth oyster when she heard, “What do you think, Charlie dear?”

Charlie choked on the oyster as she tried to ask what the question was. Coughing, she grabbed the entire pitcher of apple cider and downed a third of it to get the oyster to go down. Once it was down, she took several deep breaths to try and calm her heart and make the dizziness go away.

“What was the question?” Charlie gurgled out.

Vaggie and Alastor were watching her, Vaggie with concern and Alastor with a raised eyebrow, before Vaggie asked, “Is it embarrassing for a man if his partner comes and ‘rescues’ them?”

Charlie blinked before giving the obvious answer. “No? Why would it be? Partners are supposed to protect each other. Misogyny doesn’t help anyone. It causes pain.”

Vaggie looked at Alastor like she had made some sort of point. Alastor shrugged as he dropped the topic and turned to his meal. He took a bite of the salad and made a strange noise. Was that a purr of some kind? Not having noticed the noise, Alastor dug in as he took particular delight in the pork. Charlie had specified that his portion be somewhat raw.

Following his lead, Vaggie and Charlie dug in. Charlie absolutely didn’t regret hiring the chef. This was almost as good as Chez Couteaux ! She could see now why they were called the Roaring 20s.

Alastor swallowed a bite as he looked around. “I’m assuming we won’t be having any after-dinner entertainment?”

“Yes we will,” Vaggie said instantly. “You’ll have to be patient.”

Again, Alastor’s eye twitched at not being in control. It was noticeably less than it used to be. Instead of commenting, he dug into his clam chowder. It was quiet again as they all ate their fill.

Alastor downed the last of the apple cider and sighed. “This was absolutely divine!”

“I’ll admit, I’m impressed,” Vaggie said. “I expected everything to have enough wine in it to make us drunk.”

“See? I told you to trust him!” Charlie stood up excitedly. “Let’s do the surprise now! Vaggie, come on come on!”

Alastor looked amused as Vaggie made a face and got up, putting a napkin on her plate. They went to the corner where they had a decorative screen set up and pulled the ancient machine from its hiding place. Charlie pulled out the just as old record they’d managed to find. Vaggie wound the machine as Charlie set the record on and got it playing.

Alastor’s ear twitched. Recognition lit up his face. He exclaimed, “My goodness, is this Rufus McKay?”

“Good ear,” Vaggie said as she and Charlie made for the middle of the room, beckoning Alastor to join them. He complied, looking as if his expectations were blown through the roof. He was simply enjoying himself now. Vaggie and Charlie arranged themselves as they had practiced. Each took one of Alastor’s hands and led him in the first few steps they had come up with.

Alastor caught on quickly. The three of them danced about to the music. The short record needed rewound several times. It didn’t interrupt the flow of the dancing.

Then, disaster. Charlie tripped over her new shoes, unused to wearing different shoes. She tumbled with a gasp. The floor hit harder than it should’ve. Great; she was the one ruining the night. She rolled onto her back to catch her breath. C’mon, Charlie. She couldn’t sigh until she got air back in her lungs.

“Charlie-”

“My dear-”

“Are you alright?” the two said as one. They looked between each other before turning back to Charlie and offering a hand to help her up.

She looked between the two hands. This was an important decision, she could feel it. Luckily, she knew the right answer.

She took both hands.

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

yes here again i know i was here two seconds ago help

12 & 13 from the valentines day list with Gareth?

happy valentines day my love!

omg i don’t care how many times you show up in my ask box my love 🫶🫶🫶

(btw your other request is in the works my love 👀)

This valentine’s day you’d been telling Gareth that as much as you loved when he did his big romantic gestures, all you wanted something simple

Something sweet and intimate, just the two of you having a nice night together

And he had a very difficult time trying to figure something out

He loved being able to always do big things for you for valentine’s day, lots of gifts and flowers and candy, and it wasn’t like you didn’t love everything he did for you, you just wanted some relaxation

And he thought of the perfect thing

He asked you to come over for valentine’s day, his parents had been out doing their own romantic things and his sisters had been at a galentines sleepover at their friends house so the place was completely empty for you to use

He had made you dinner and the two of you exchanged your gifts for one another, but he said he had one last surprise for you

He slowly led you upstairs to the bathroom down the hall and once he opened the door your eyes went wide

There were candles lit everywhere, flower petals on the floor, a radio playing the cassette of romantic songs he had made for you, and there was a bottle of champagne that he definitely had to have swiped from his parents with two flutes next to it

It looked so romantic and relaxing, just something the two of you could do to spend time with one another

It was perfect

He got the bath running and once the water was perfect he added some sweet smelling bubble bath as he watched you slowly undress

Once you stepped into the bath he poured you a glass of champagne before undressing and getting himself one

He stepped in after you and the two of you got yourselves comfortable, finding a position that fit you both comfortably

Gareths back was against the tub as you were settled in his lap, his chest against your back as you were fully immersed in the warm water

It was so soothing, so relaxing, and even though it was nothing extravagant you could tell how much love and effort Gareth put into planning it

You sighed in bliss and laid your head back against him, just enjoying being so close under the bubbles and warm water

This was the perfect way to spend your valentine’s day together

[hobbit-in-kuroshitsuji]

Kuroshitcember 2022 Prompt Nr. 12

Prompt: As Christmas draws near, so does the cold, which plays hell with Tanaka’s old bones.

You can find all prompts here!

All of these will be uploaded/archived to this blog's Ao3 eventually

Summary: When Christmas Decorations go missing, Tanaka has to search through the entire manor to try and find them despite his aching bones. CW: Major spoilers for Kuroshitsuji - if you don't know about O!Ciel and R!Ciel, don't read.

The 14th of December was the twins’ birthday. At their age, they thought the entire month of December belonged to them and only them. Which meant that the Christmas decorations were not just for Christmas, but also for them. Lights, tinsel, candles and special sweets: all for them.

So when Tanaka found some had been stolen, he made it his personal mission to ensure he would find it before the twins noticed.

He searched and searched and searched, but just could not find the garlands and accompanying tinsel anywhere. The cold made his bones ache, age not being his friend most of the time but especially not during harsh winter months. Fires were lit everywhere to keep pipes from freezing shut and break – but it was still not enough to keep his joints from aching.

So the search was taking him a while, and hurting him.

Grumpy, despite the happy smile on his lips, Tanaka paused to think this through. He knew the twins had taken the decorations. So where would two 5 year olds have taken it?

A lightbulb lit up within Tanaka, and his grumpiness disappeared as he headed for the library. Vincent often spent time there whenever he had friends over, but that was the only time he was there. That meant that whenever there were no guests, it was a perfect hideout for the twins…. If they were up to mischief.

The library was tucked away in a corner of the manor. It was still beautiful, tall windows offered light where one could sit, and the many rows of bookshelves were kept safely away from sunlight. In the middle, an iron, spiral staircase led up to a small attic where artifacts of importance were stored.

It was underneath that staircase where Tanaka found the thieves. Having built a little yurt out of two blankets and some rope, Tanaka heard the two boys giggling within their hideout, unaware someone was onto them.

As quietly as he could, Tanaka attempted to sneak over despite his painful bones, and opened the makeshift door carefully –

Inside, the twins were sat huddled over the stolen garlands, braiding them together to create one thick bush. The tinsel was used to decorate the oddly shaped garland.

“What on Earth are you two doing?” Tanaka’s voice was gentle, amused even. Both boys gasped and turned so quickly Tanaka worried they might get whiplash injuries from it.

“Nothing!” In an effort to hide their mischief, Ciel sat in front of it, failing miserably at hiding the evidence. His brother, instead, offered Tanaka a scared look before tears welled up in his eyes as his bottom lip protruded.

“I can see nothing mischievous is going on here, yes,” Tanaka chuckled, offering both boys a gentle pat to the head to calm them down. “If you wanted to do Christmas crafts, you should have simply told me and I would have prepared a table-“

“We’re sorry, Tanaka,” Ciel interrupted, “but it was meant to be a surprise.”

“Oh?”

Ciel and his brother exchanged a look. Then one of them voiced: “Well… Father said the servants don’t have any decorations in your quarters, and father also said you should be resting more when it’s cold for… your bones. We didn’t understand it but if you need to rest, you shouldn’t rest without decorations!”

“You’re preparing decorations for me?” Tanaka questioned, not fully believing it.

The twins nodded their heads eagerly.

As they turned and presented their… makeshift little Christmas tree to Tanaka, no warm fire was needed to heal his bones. That gentle show of affection from his masters was more than enough to warm the soul of this old butler, and any pain was quickly forgotten so long as he could keep serving these two precious boys whatever they wished for...

__ @eemoo1o-animoo

[angelikigai]

I came across a short piece I wrote when I was seventeen, and it brought back memories of the time I attempted suicide because I was afraid of birthdays.

Sorry for the ungrammatical, and I didn’t think about its title, but here it is!

February 18, 2019

Everybody knows that they were born for a reason. But me? I never thought about that. My parent cared for me since I was an infant until my hair grew. My name is Angel. When I turned on my 5th birthday, I started wondering why my parents brought a bunch of kids into our house and sang and waited ‘til I wished and blew out my candle. Yes, I wouldn’t say I like birthdays. And now I’m Seventeen, as usual, I am facing a chocolate cake with a cherry on top, and my parents are giving me pleasant grins that seem happy about my age and are near death. I never had a close friend because I knew they’d leave me. Until one day, someone is brave enough to talk to me. I was sitting in a library, and there he was, Duncan.

“Hi,” his greetings.

“What do you want?” I responded.

“Nothing, I am just looking for someone willing to join our club. I mean to be a journalist?”

“uh.. so you think about me joining your club?” I asked.

“Absolutely, yes..” He said, “I saw you writing.” He continued.

I just looked at him and rolled my eyes. “What are you doin’?”

He forcedly grabbed my journal, and he didn’t give it back. “Black possesses mystery..” not until he finished reading my poem, “and at the end, it’s just death.”

“Wow, I never thought you were suicidal.” He smiled.

“Of course not; it’s just a poem.” I said.

“But poems were written because of one's inspiration.” He justified.

“Okay, so what?” I mumbled.

“It's nice. But maybe you need a reason why you exist.” he added.

I was thinking about that. I need to know why people have to live.

“Here's my number; call me If you change your mind.” He gave me a card with a number under his name. Duncan. He tapped my shoulder, and then he almost reached the door out, but I stopped him.

“Hey, Duncan! Count me in.” I shouted out.

“Great, see you in five!” He grinned.

Since the first day we met, we’ve been together until now. We became closer and did stuff a lot. Bestfriends, if that’s what it looks like. We joined in journalism; he taught me how to be a wise thinker. Sometimes we’re having a mind-to-mind battle; we argue about something, especially when it talks about life.

“You know I hate birthdays,” I mumbled.

“Hah! Yeah, I hate getting old, though. Hahaha,” he said.

“No. What I mean is, I wouldn’t say I like birthdays. For me, it’s like a sign that you’re just going to die near someday. You know the thoughts that we exist to die.” A deep silence comes abruptly.

“Have I told you I’m a miracle baby?” Duncan said.

“Yah?” I’m surprised.

“Yeaaah.. haha, my Mom told me I was not breathing when I was born. They were already preparing for a funeral until I suddenly cried..” he smiled.

“Funny, right?” He asked.

“Woah.. wow.. you’re..” I paused. I have never said this to someone before, but. “It’s miraculous! You’re an angel!” And we exchanged smiles together.

“So I am here, sharing my talent to inspire everyone even if I don’t know when will be my last breath. At least I made a lot of memories. It’s an opportunity to enjoy and express myself. I love to uplift everyone with this.” he let out.

My heartbeat stops, and I feel my hands sweating. I never believe to someone before that life is meaningful and we live for a purpose. But now, I understand. Duncan is right; I don’t just live to die.

We grab all of our opportunities together, he wants to become an Author, and I want to be the most excellent documentarist in media.

Duncan and I auditioned for the Poetry Writing contest. We took a lot of time to ensure our poem was remarkable and wanted it to be remembered so that we would become famous. When the day arrives, we’re going to show the world our talent and inspire people to keep on going through the ups and downs of life. People will love our work. I can’t wait for that to happen.

Until here it is, the day we waited.

I am still waiting for Duncan, It’s 2:17 in the afternoon, and the program will start at 3:00.

What if he doesn’t come? What if he left me as people do? What should I do? Do I have to trust him?

It was almost 4:00 in the afternoon, and Duncan didn't show up.

A few weeks passed, and I never saw him anymore. He missed my calls, or maybe he just ignored them. But I didn’t stop looking for him.

Until one day, He called.

“Hi, it’s his Mom. Duncan passed away; my baby can’t fight his heart illness. Sorry.. sorry..so..” she cried.

I never knew he had suffered from sickness; he never told me about that! I cried a lot and didn’t know what to do.

He’s the only one who brought me to light and showed me the meaning of life. Yet, he took mine with him.

-angelaikigai

[stolenhunt]

On the Job

Night fell. The last remnants of sunlight tried to bravely cling to the skies in shades of dark blue, but Rowan couldn’t even see that unless he drew himself up to the top of the pocket to check on their surroundings. Ember strode through the forest with a confidence unimaginable to Rowan, each stride bumping him gently against her hip. She carried the deer for miles without getting more than mildly winded, which was also unimaginable to Rowan. Sure, he could exert a burst of athletic ability as needed, but he’d never been a heavy lifter. Ember quite literally had muscles bigger than his entire body.

When she stopped, for the first time in a long time, Rowan scrambled to get his feet under him. He stuck his head out of the pocket he had become so intimately familiar with recently, only to balk back down as he realized they were standing in front of a door- a giant door, to scale with Ember, with a similarly huge house attached to it.

The vision of this house, so huge and foreboding and all alone in the woods, caused some uneasiness to slide up Rowan’s spine. This feeling only increased as Ember knocked on the door and he realized that it wasn’t her house.

There were other giants out here in the woods, and he had absolutely no desire to meet them.

He ducked down further, letting the top flap of the pocket fall over his head like an oversized hat, as the door opened. A giant man, bearded and larger than any normal building, answered Ember’s knock. His expression showed some signs of relief as he nodded at Ember; his eyes never alighted upon Rowan. The thief could think of few times he had been so glad to go unnoticed.

“Just the deer on offer?” the man asked, his voice gruff and rumbling, though not unkind. Rowan figured that “gruff and rumbling” was a bit of a given when you were huge.

Rowan felt more than saw Ember nod in reply. “Just that. Standard rate.”

The man nodded back, seemingly not realizing he was doing so, even as he said, “Aye, we’ll take it.”

He shuffled away. After a few moments, in which Rowan wondered what was even going on here, the man returned, a slightly shorter (but still enormous) woman behind him. She counted out some coins, which she gave to the man and he immediately handed over to Ember. Ember jostled them in her hand, presumably eyeing them to make sure the expected number and quality were there, before grunting her thanks and hefting the deer off of her shoulder. The man took it, headed out around the house to perhaps some sort of side shed. The woman nodded at Ember. “Bless ye, hunter.”

“Your patronage is much appreciated,” Ember said in return. These exchanges were so cadenced in the way of rote phrasing that Rowan could only imagine this was a fairly normal event. The woman shut the door and Ember turned, putting the house and its residents out of sight once more as she walked off into the forest.

The very creepy, very dark forest. Out here there was nothing, no streetlights, no candles, no noises from merry drunks or angry wives. Just dark, unrecognizable forms and uncanny rustling noises that couldn’t quite be placed. Rowan wasn’t exactly happy with how things had turned out so far that day, but he couldn’t honestly say he would rather be out there alone in the dark either.

In an attempt to distract from that generally distressing thought, Rowan pushed himself up a bit further out of the pocket and craned his neck back to look up at Ember. “Why did you sell the deer?” he asked; that hadn’t been the only confusing part of the house in the woods, but it was a question he managed to find the words for. “I mean… why not just keep the food for yourself?”

Ember looked down at him, and even in the gloom he thought he caught a flash of surprise on her large face. “It’s my job?” she replied, her uncertainty likely only because he’d asked what was apparently a dumb question. She looked back out into the woods, but added all the same, “It’s how things work out here. The hunting grounds are designated for, well, hunters. You have to have a license and all that, and normal people aren’t allowed to hunt, so that the environment can be controlled. Hunters like me often make the bulk of our money hunting for rural families like that, who are out here on their own but don’t have the licensure to hunt for themselves.”

Rowan nodded, wishing he didn’t feel like an idiot for asking. “In my defense, the city is uh, way different,” he countered. Arturium didn’t have hunters, or woods, it had farms. Nice, safe farms.

Ember just smirked. “I’ll bet it is.”

Silence percolated between them for a while, Ember steadily walking down a path Rowan couldn’t even discern in the darkness. Eventually, however, a form of sharp, unnatural lines came into view: a tent, big enough to house a giant comfortably, with a rain tarp pitched overtop of it. Rowan just stared as Ember approached and opened the front flap. His pocket brushed along the ground as she hunched over to crawl inside, and he self-consciously lifted his feet so they wouldn’t be dragged along.

“Home sweet home,” Ember muttered. She sat cross-legged in the dark tent and rummaged in one of her other vest pockets. A match was lit with a sharp snik and she moved it over to a lamp the size of a small room, which blazed with light.

Rowan hastily blinked the spots from his eyes, then took it upon himself to look around. It wasn’t much- just a big, empty stretch of space bordered by enormous swathes of canvas. A rolled bedroll sat in one corner. “You live here?” he blurted, before glancing up at her and hastily adding, “Um, no offense.”

Judging by the smirk on her face, she wasn’t offended. “You may not know this, being a city rat an’ all, but it’s not unusual to camp while you hunt. So yes, I live here.”

“But…” Rowan stared around, looking for any personal touch and finding none. “If hunting’s your job, then you’re hunting all the time, right? So you’re just… camping? All the time?” It sounded like a shitty way to live life, if he were honest, and it probably showed on his face.

Thankfully, Ember continued to be entertained rather than affronted. “Most of the time, sure,” she easily replied, obviously unbothered by the concept. “Sometimes I stay at an inn in town, when I’m resupplying or in between jobs.”

Rowan’s next response, a quip about needing to make her tent more like a home in that case, was overrun as he processed the rest of her statement. “Town,” he repeated, as if the word were foreign. He looked up and over his shoulder at her, but only managed to catch the underside of her chin rising above the plateau of her abdomen. “A town… your size? Full of giants?” What a disquieting idea.

“Full of humans,” Ember corrected, with that same undercurrent of amusement. Rowan frowned, finding the word only vaguely familiar as it pinged off of some distant memory of education. He felt like he’d heard it before back in public school, when they discussed the other people-like species roaming the world. Nobody had ever told him they were ridiculously enormous. That really should have come up.

He huffed out a curt sigh. Whatever. With any luck, he’d never have to see that kind of over-sized town for himself.

He got his feet under him and hauled himself up with his arms, leveraging himself up and over the edge of the pocket. He was hanging from the outside, ready to drop the inch or so down Ember’s side to the floor, when she shifted and the lip of the pocket was nearly torn out of his hands. Rowan yelped, clinging fast with white knuckles, and looked down only to find himself hanging nearly a foot off the floor of the floor of the tent. Ember had risen to her knees; that action alone now made it so that he was too high to jump, and the thought set his heart to pounding for more than one reason.

That panic response didn’t fade as fingers pinched around his waist, prying him away from his handhold despite his frantic grip. Ember lifted him up to her eye level, a quick ascension that sent his heart straight to his toes, and he could barely get himself together enough to brace himself against the thumb covering his stomach. He could only stare wide-eyed at Ember as she laughed at him.

“Sorry, sorry,” she chuckled. “Didn’t notice you were trying to get out on your own.” Rowan clenched his jaw and flushed; it was one thing to go unnoticed when he wanted to, but the idea that he was too small to notice while he was climbing down another person was a bit much. Any retort, however, stuck in his throat as he all but flew through the air- Ember reached over to deposit him in one corner of the tent. He was barely able to keep his feet under him when her fingers finally released him. “Just hang tight there, don’t want you in the way while I get everything settled.”

Rowan swallowed thickly, his heart pounding so hard his throat felt full. “Uh, right,” he managed to mumble. She probably didn’t even hear him; but he didn’t want to be in the way while she moved things around, given that any one of them could easily flatten him, so he stayed where he was put.

[nfumbewalk]

Muertos

Very busy altar for a client of mine. It's my muertos altar, as he is helping - no goddesses, gods, demons, orishas - just his human magical power that I taught him to harness. He's still Catholic, indeed - by request I have a Virgin of Guadalupe candle here & his rosary. I read him Psalm 91 - his favorite.

I'm just going over some thoughts lately. I don't think that I'm the same as other necromancers (how few there really are - most are just words - claim to be) out there. The difference - I'm not just doing divination or talking with muertos. I have a relationship with them. My muerto is very special. The only Taurus I've ever gotten along with. Lol! He's very unique. His attitude is stern but he has a quite gung ho & a "fuck it"' & " fuck you" mentality. He is intelligent and honest & rough around the edges. Ppl loved him (I do) but he could rub someone the wrong way, just by his glance. Expressive dark brown eyes! It's in his often furrowed & questioning, very curious eyebrows.

Yes, I know him very well. He's almost like my 2nd but deceased husband. Weird, I know. He's been at my house for 10 years, but my abilities were so dumbed down, I didn't know my spirit pot was functional. Rodolfo said I made some mistakes while creating & taking care of it.

So he said he was & wasn't here at the same time. I couldn't work with him. So, two years ago, when I met a Palo Tata in Puerto Rico, he heard my tale & told me how to make a *real* spirit vessel. The key is the blood pact, the right herbs and other things that go in the vessel. Rodolfo came quickly when he knew what I was doing.

Right away, I had contact. The day after I made the vessel, i was walking in my small hallway & got the "howdy" with hot breath, right in my right ear. I said, "Hi Rodolfo!" I am not afraid of muertos, even creepy ones. I'm built of galvanized resolve.

I do get a sense of surprise when encountering muerto phenomenon. Yes, if you have a vessel - they basically haunt you - but its not negative. They make their presence known. This morning, i was in the bathroom. My husband was sound asleep. We're the only ppl here besides Rodolfo. Well, i got the sound of light touching on the bathroom door. It's wood & its hollow, so you can hear everything. I just said, "Hi, Rodolfo." Nice & quietly.

I don't know why but Rodolfo likes the bathroom & my bedroom door. He makes my bedroom door squeak. He likes to play "peek a boo." Otherwise, he re-arranges things on his altar, throws boxes & knocks, occasionally. He will audibly speak short phrases like "Te queiro," or "Howdy," "Babe, you know I love you, right?" Yes, yes. I'm close to him. We exchange niceties & love speak. It's an out of this world bond. Why else would he stay at my house for 10 years - no pact, offerings, or much acknowledgement? So that 10th year, now 12th, we have a tight, happy relationship.

But why, you may ask? Why have a muerto? Do i need this kind of bond with them to work?

Well - the reason to have a muerto is up to you. I can't tell exactly why. Each necromantress/necromancer has to find their own way/reason with this. But I advise that you're well-versed & well-tread in magic - doesn't matter what kind. There's no triangle, constriction or evocation in Muerteria - My path - no, you won't find it except here on tumblr with my posts.

Anyways, you need purpose to have a muerto. If you just "want one" that's a very bad reason. Besides, I've never seen or heard (except from certain Paleros) how to gather a muerto successfully from a graveyard - the ritual, what is needed & how to do it. Two Tata's I know taught me some secrets and I've used them with a high grade of competency. Nothing has failed.

You don't just do it like these idiot hoodoo people wrongly gathering grave dirt! Lol!

"Oh, it's ok to just cover my head in white, be reverent & pay for the dirt with 3 pennies with a bit of liquor at the gate of the graveyard, right?"

How does that show respect? No words or a prayer? How do you seal a grave after working there (gathering dirt, etc). NO ONE talks about sealing graves. Never seen it in a book, heard it from Paleros, either. It's probably a secret I didn't receive. Well, the muertos taught me. It requires a tool, but you can use your hands. It also requires a bodily fluid, no, not blood! I learned this procedure recently. Where? Kalunga.

Why have I worked so much with Palo? Technically, I'm a Palera, though - not initiated. My Tata's said that Pa!o is my home, and I'll make it someday - but I'm too much of a tightwad. Too cheap & I don't believe in paying for religion unless someone else pays for me. Lol. Palo is the muertos. And much much more. I do not like the regla (rule/law) of Pa!o. It's weird for women. Antiquated.

Anyway - for a quick Orisha update: I cut down my practice just to Yemanja. I need a strong mothering presence right now. Ochun is mothering, yes. I'm Dos Aguas, Yemanja said Ochun will stand back and she'll come forward as I need. Ochun is not angry nor does she feel slighted. I made sure divination was checked & cleared. Yemanja feels very good, very loving. She's the only Orisha who doesn't mind if I sit, smoke a cigarette & talk to her.

Well, I talked about muertos a lot, particularly mine. Don't be freaked out by the closeness of me & Rodolfo. Most ppl, for some reason, find it cute or romantic. I do have a living husband. Lol!!

Later, dears! 💖💀💖