#BACK TO ROCKY BECAUSE HE DESERVES ALL OF MY ATTENTION

[fandomestuff]

[lunargrapejuice]

hellooo :)))

i love your writing so much and i don't know if requests are open but if they aren't ignore this please :>

i literally would DIE for diluc hurt/comfort anyday i love him so much ☹️💞💞

can i please request diluc x fem reader who is suffering with depression but hides it from diluc because he already has a traumatic background and she doesn't wanna be a burden, and he finds out about her depression when she is having one of her episodes and he just goes all fluffy 🤭 💕

you don't have to write this if you're uncomfortable but have a nice day/night anyways :)) and lola is so cute btw :3

diluc ragnvindr x reader

warnings: no pronouns used, hurt/comfort, mentions of depression but i tried to make it pretty generalized! what i did write was based on my own experience with depression so im sorry if it’s wrong compared to anyone else’s

authors note: thank you so much for your kind words & for requesting! i hope this was okay 🥺🩷 hehe lola is such a lil baby thank you🩷💕

diluc had always told you that you could rely on him whenever you needed, for anything you needed, and when he said those words you had agreed with a smile when you knew just how little you wanted to burden him with anything at all. let alone these emotions you had dealt with for so long, that still seemed to get the better of you from time to time, that could consume you and make the world feel as dark and heavy as the deepest parts of the sea.

so you never reached out, never told him about the emotions crashing into you like a rocky tide  even when you felt like you might break under his tender gaze and his worried tone as he asks if you’re alright when you weren’t doing the best of jobs at holding it together. seeing the stoic diluc worry for you, offer you himself just to be sure you were alright.. a part of you felt as though you didn’t deserve it, but he was always so kind, and he needn't worry about you. he already had so much on his mind and that weighed down his own heart..

this was something you could and would keep to yourself, something you had to fight all by yourself, and you did your damndest to hide it from him. even as you fell for him, wanting to give him your heart and soul, including the broken pieces you were trying so hard to put back together, you chose to keep it close to your chest and not let him be burdened by your depression.

but what were you to do when he caught you drowning in the middle of that vast, depthless, ocean and offered you himself to hold onto?

his voice was wrought with emotion as he called your name and caught your attention through your teary eyes. you thought you had been avoiding him successfully, seeing him enough to where he wouldn’t suspect you but with enough distance that he wouldn’t see just how okay you were not the past weeks, but now that he was in front of you, kneeling to meet your body that felt too heavy to carry as you cried, you realize maybe he had known all along and waited patiently for you to tell him or show him. 

you saw the black leather of his gloves hovering over you, hesitant to touch you but his ruby eyes told you of how badly he wished to hold you, to comfort you. he was so close you could smell the lingering fragrance of wine and oak on his skin, felt the heat of his body even if he wasn’t touching you at this moment. 

“please.. talk to me,” he pleads, his voice cracking at his own emotions becoming too much for him to hold back.

of course he had noticed the signs of your sadness, not knowing the entire depths of it all but nonetheless wanting to help you carry it, remind you that you were never alone and that his strength, no matter the form you needed it in, would always be yours to rely upon. when he came to check up on you, his heart yearning to see you, he hadn’t expected to find you in the quietness of your living room, clinging to a pillow as if it might help stop your sobbing the tighter you held it. 

he was quick on his feet to make his way to your side, forgetting about anything other than you and the deep desire to do anything to bring back your smile, but startling you in the process when his fingers touch your shoulder and you jump back in surprise, not having heard him knock at the door or call your name before entering after your sad sounds muffled through the door had him thinking the worst. 

“diluc..” you choke out, not knowing what to do other than succumb to how badly you need him right now. in the suffocating ice depths he was the blazing fire that promised to keep you safe, keep you warm, until you could go on; the steadiness of it, of him, a silent vow to never leave your side.

the moment your hands touch his arms, trembling fingers clinging to his coat sleeves with a tighter grip than you intended, he finally lets himself touch you again. his touch is much softer than your own, as if you were made of the finest glass and he was the sworn keeper and protector of such a precious object. warm leather catches your endless tears, strokes your cheeks to try to wipe them away and when he learns it will be to no avail, at least not yet, his gentle hands tangle into your hair and around your middle, pulling you against his chest.

his touch grows more intense then, nearly matching your own that holds onto the back of his coat and some of his hair. it doesn’t hurt, doesn’t bother him, hold on as tightly as you need for he would not waver. 

you can hear the beating of his heart in your ears, each thump quieting the thoughts you couldn’t get to stop before. the warmth that surrounds you seeps into your bones and thaws every bit of cold that held you, the softness of his shirt collecting your tears, his quiet ‘i’m here’ and ‘i’ve got you’ wrapping around your heart and encasing it in protective flames.

after a while, never once parting from each other's embrace, your body grows weak, your hold softening while his remained comforting and steady. your eyes no longer weep so unwillfully but your sorrow is replaced with shame and worry. you hadn’t meant for him to see.. wanted to be stronger than this for him and for yourself-

your thoughts are cut off by the hand once lost in your hair now gently pulling up your chin to meet his gaze, nothing but earnest worry and love swirling in his scarlet eyes. for the first time since you grabbed ahold of him, he finally lets go of your middle, long and steady fingers coming to move the hair sticking to your wet cheeks. your eyes flutter closed as his movements and you keep your arms around him, not ready to let go but he doesn’t have any intention of moving away from you. 

he whispers your name, his own emotions still at the back of his throat, and your eyes open slowly in response, even if at times under his undivided attention you couldn’t look for long before bursting with warmth and embarrassment. you think perhaps you should be embarrassed now, puffy eyes with wet lashes and your running nose, the mess you’ve made of his shirt, the truth of what you’ve been hiding from him finally coming to light, leaving you vulnerable but you find yourself unable to look away despite it all and your heart beating with hope when he speaks again.

“whatever ails you, no matter what it is, i will always be beside you to help you through it. in any way i can,” his fingers caress your cheek with one hand and along your jaw with the other. you swear you could cry all over again but for happier reasons this time. “i will hold you. i will give you my strength, anything you could ask for. and when you’re ready to share with me, i will listen.”

“‘luc..” your eyes drop, your fingers fidgeting with the fabric of his coat. you don’t want to keep it from him any longer.. not when he looks at you like this, like you were his whole world. but your worries hold you back.. “how could i possibly burden you with this?” you mumble, like a child not wanting to admit that had done something bad. “after everything..”

before you can say more, compare your sorrows to his own when that was the very last thing he wanted, he pulls you against his chest. the past haunted him, kept a dark cloud over his world, blocking out the sun and moon, but you were his future, his light in that darkness and there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you. there was nothing he would let you go through alone.

neither of you would ever have to go through anything alone again, not now that you had each other.

“you are never a burden to me,” he says it like it was so matter of fact but still like it pained him that you thought anything different. “please share your happiness and sorrows with me,” his grip tightens around you, his face now buried in the crook of your neck, breath hot on your skin, soft red locks tickling your jaw and neck. “through it all i swear i’ll be here.”

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

[a-libra-writes]

Hello Libra, I just like to say that I really love your work and I love how you depict all these characters so well!

I was wondering if you can do some jealousy headcanons for the Lackadaisy characters?

Danke!! GN reader, most reference a relationship or romantic interest.

♣️Rocky - His jealousy is very obvious to anyone who bothers to pay attention. It is not less obvious or pathetic when you're in a relationship, either. Rocky will find any excuse to interrupt you and the other person, scare them off, redirect your attention, and so forth. It can become very distracting and annoying, so it's best to address the problem right away. The jealousy 100% stems from Rocky's fears of abandonment - not that he'd recognize that - so reassuring him and soothing that insecurity helps a lot. Sometimes his jealous reactions are just that, knee-jerk reactions that he doesn't fully think through. It's safe to say the insecurity is less of an issue the longer you both are together, especially if you're already a very affirming and affectionate partner.

♣️Freckle - The big-eyed boy has a quiet, passive jealousy that he may not notice right away. It stems from inadequacy, and he believes himself to be inadequate in many things, especially when it comes to relationships. He doesn't exactly have a lot of experience, you know? It'll be a constant needling build-up, though his uh, night time shooty activities helps get a lot of that aggression out. He's very open to talking things over, but you'd have to bring it up first. Freckle would rather stew in Catholic-level feelings of guilt before ever talking about it; but talks help a lot! Reassuring him goes a long way, and making sure he brings up his negative feelings before they get so bad.

♣️Ivy - While she's quite easygoing and not prone to jealous thoughts that often, when they do pop up, it manifests as an intense "my best-friend-who-I-tooootally-have-platonic-feelings-for-is-dating-someone-new-and-I-suddenly-hate-that-person". She pouts, she plots, she makes her displeasure known to you - she just gets an off feeling from that person. No, it's not mature, and she can get pretty catty about it - but she's also only 18~19. If you're femme then Ivy can easily dismiss her feelings as just missing her best friend - it'll take extra time to realize they aren't entirely platonic. If you both were together and already had conversations about this, that burning jealousy melts away to a little spark she feels now and again. She'll ignore it, knowing it's just a dumb thing that'll pass as soon as you're back at her side.

♣Mitzi - As much as she acts like she's above such things, Mitzi is the same as anyone else in developing jealous feelings. She recognizes them at once and just wants to bury them down, it's so embarrassing. It's even worse if she gets antsy about someone being overly friendly or flirty with you. What is she, a schoolgirl? The anger at herself might irk Mitzi even more than the person whose being so forward with you. She can get quite passive aggressive toward them, coating her barbs with honey - and that might get directed toward you if she feels you're also being too friendly with them. None of this lasts long - Mitzi would rather have a drink and kiss and make up. She's too old too ladylike for this silly nonsense.

♣Viktor - Just because he recognizes what he's feeling doesn't mean the old Slovak processes them in a healthy way (like, at all). To strangers, he's his usual frightening self, but to those who know him they can tell there's a distinct animosity coming off him. He's not a possessive type, but Viktor already feels miserable about himself and that he doesn't deserve you in the slightest - the idea of someone better coming along is not an impossibility. Now, he can't simply grab them by the neck and throw them out a window just for talking .. .and that'd upset you. So Viktor settles for being in a terrible mood until you soothe him. Attempting to talk him through it just makes him feel worse about himself.

♣Zib - Oh, he recognizes it quick, and Zib haaaates feeling this way. It's so pathetic, so annoying. He should be the bigger person, just suck it up and walk away, but ... nah. If he's been drinking, he's absolutely going to make snide comments and act inappropriate. You drag his drunk ass aside and he does feel a little (kinda) bad about he acted ... some days he's better about it. It's so cliche, but he knows what he's like as a partner. He doesn't offer much, and even if you've made it clear you still care about him, the insecurities and negative feelings can dig into him... especially after booze. He perks right up after some cuddling.

♣Atlas - He doesn't show it outwardly at all. Atlas keeps his impassive expression, outsiders can't tell the difference, but you and his two closest triggermen might pick up the iciness in his eyes. Eventually, that frost would melt into his voice. He would consider any jealous feelings beneath him, if he deigned to call them that. Instead, he'd translate it as disrespect: Whoever is being too personal with you and inspiring these feelings is disrespecting him. It's ... probably best that they move on.

🏵Serafine - Jealousy isn't something that comes easily to her. She's too free-spirited, and she doesn't like the idea of holding another down. She'd hate for you to restrict her, so why should she do the same to you? That said, there are a few times when it comes up. There are always those who want to flirt with you and get too close for her liking, but ... it's also fun to watch. She lets the little pangs of jealousy build up until you return to her side, and Serafine will tease you for doing it on purpose. There's a reason she likes to leave lipstick stains and bites on you. Note, if you try to incite jealousy in her on purpose, she'll see it as a game - but if you're seriously trying to provoke something, it's just irksome. Isn't that a bit childish?

🏵Nico - Like his sister, Nico isn't one for jealousy. He's inspired plenty of it and isn't a fan, and like Serafine, he won't tie you down if you don't do the same to him. Truthfully, he has much less patience for it. Some may think he doesn't feel jealous at all; but Nico is actually just good at dealing with it in a healthy way. He waits until you're back at his side and showers extra attention on you - it's pretty funny when the person who was flirting starts glaring at you. As long as you're not intentionally trying to get a rise out of him, he's chill.

🏵Mordecai - He's awful about it, made worse that he refuses to acknowledge it. It really doesn't kick in until you both have this sort-of-kind-of understanding that's a mess to navigate to begin with, never mind if jealousy comes into play. Mordecai both feels it strongly and denies it with as much strength. Some stranger trying to be smooth is irksome, but not the end of the world. But someone who has a sustained relationship with you? Who gets to touch you and be close to you on the regular? Nope. He's argumentative and prickly anytime they come up. By the time he figures out what his feelings are about, he'd rather chew off his own tail than ever bring it up.

🏵Wes - His flavor of jealousy tends to come from either inadequacy or possessiveness. If the person flattering you and getting too close is some idiot he works alongside, you better believe his hackles raise and he puts them in their place. If it's someone he can't immediately beat down, or if they seem ... well, better than him in some way, the jealousy quietly simmers underneath. Your initial attempts to talk it out are bust, considering the time period and his own machismo ... but he can come around once you reassure him. And wait, didn't he want this to be a casual thing? What's he getting so worked up about, anyway?

🏔Wick - When they build up, he quickly recognizes the jealous feelings in himself. It's something Wick is familiar with, and dislikes - as if it's a personal failing, and not a thing everyone goes through. Depending on how long it sticks around, he can become a little withdrawn and even unsure. It just feels so childish, but he's still glad to get some reassurances. He insists it's not necessary, but Wick still gives you that dopey, painfully affectionate smile you're used to. He's also someone who handles it maturely, and they seem to go as quickly as they come. They may linger if there's already some obstacle between you two - maybe he hasn't brought up his feelings, you're masc so he can't be as open with his affection, and so on - but he's still recognizing these negative feelings and willing to work through them.

[wardenparker]

The King's Queen - chapter 2

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Prince Javier of the Balearic Islands has always known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps to be the caring and steadfast king that his people deserve. What he did not know is that he would be stepping into the next phase of his life alongside a woman he has never met before - and amidst a rocky sea of unusual circumstances of every kind.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 16.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: arranged marriage, age gap, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, mentions of American politics, deceased parents* Illness/cancer, not the world's best father/son relationship, absolutely pure fucking fluff 🧡 Summary: Your first encounters with the king are somewhat less successful than you hope, but every moment spent with Javi seems to be more and more wonderful. Notes: I have nothing to say for myself...I just really, really love these two 🥰💖👑

Ch 1

“Welcome home, Princess.” He uses the title that will be yours for only a few days between the wedding and the coronation.

Princess. It’s that fairy tale that so many little girls all over the world harbor in their hearts and imaginations. For you it’s been a mixture of dreaming and anticipation over the years. Now that it’s so close, and he is the one calling you by the title, it feels more surreal than ever. “Thank you, your Highness.”

“Come.” Javi decides that he will show you to the throne room to greet the king before showing you the suite he had picked out for you. “My father will be waiting in the throne room.”

“That sounds very official.” The two of you walk side by side, and the way people pause in their step to bow or curtsy to him as you pass by is like something out of a movie. Keeping your head high, you do your best to keep in step with his long strides as he moves confidently through the halls. Turn after turn and hallway after hallway until he stops in front of a broad set of ornate double doors and a pair of footmen in elaborate uniforms open them to admit him – and you by proxy. It’s smaller than you expect, this grand throne room with its dais on the other end that has one great chair in the center with an older man sitting there at attention. The uniform and crown are as imposing as they are obvious, and you’re suddenly shaking with nerves as you stop in the middle of the hall to curtsy as deeply as you can manage.

“Just breathe.” Javi can sense the change in you, knowing you are nervous to meet the man who had arranged your marriage to Javi along with your parents and his mother. “At the end of the day, he’s just a man.” He murmurs quietly.

"He's my father-in-law." You whisper back, shooting the man who will soon be your husband a pointed glance even with your head bowed. In your general experience, fathers-in-law can be more troublesome than any other person in a relationship.

"You may stand." The king's formality is front and center as he sits up rail straight on his throne. When you obey him, you hold your head up tall and square your shoulders: the picture of a daughter who is used to being inspected. He will have to commend your father for that. "Come here," he instructs, motioning to the space in front of him. It takes everything in you to just breathe as you walk, stepping forward maybe six feet to stop at the foot of the dais. You've met multiple presidents, had dinners at the White House and outings with First Children. Photo ops with First Ladies and other Congressional children. You can do this. It's only terrifying because these people – this place – are the rest of your life.

Javi wants to huff and roll his eyes, because formality should be dispensed with, but he doesn’t comment. Instead, he comes to stand beside you as the king stares at you. Wanting to ask if you pass inspection.

“How did you find the flight?” A little small talk never hurts anyone, and the king indicates with one finger that he wishes for you to turn in a circle.

“It was very comfortable, your Majesty.” When you turn you glance up at the prince and try to give him even a momentary glance of reassurance. “The staff was wonderful and kind.”

“And how do you find the prince?” He is pleased with your looks, although he doesn’t care for the dress you’re wearing. He’ll have to have a word with your maid about wardrobe choices.

“I look forward to getting to know him better.” This time you don’t have to make the smile small or glance short, and you look to your side with a glowing smile. “He has been a wonderful guide. And, again, very kind.”

“Yes, Javier was quite insistent on meeting the plane to show you in himself rather than our formal introduction.” Miguel’s tone is disapproving, and he doesn’t spare his son a look as he stares at you. Wanting to gauge if you whither under pressure or if the calm look of confidence is genuine.

“With respect, sire, I can appreciate the prince’s preference.” Maybe more people would grovel – maybe you should grovel and cave to a king – but that’s not your style. Your father taught you to obey, of course, but also to be confident in the face of new situations. “Formality and tradition are admirable, but the relationship between a couple, any couple, must have room for some kind of comfort. Especially in the beginning.”

Miguel’s brow raises minutely, fully aware that his willful son is practically beaming beside you. Years of bearing are the only things keeping the riot of pain that flashes through him to run across his face. “Very well.” He grunts a long moment after the pain passes. “We shall dispense with formality tonight at dinner.” He nods and then motions to Javier. “Show your queen to be her rooms, Javier.”

Unsure of what would be correct to say, you simply curtsy and murmur a polite, “Gracias.” Before standing and following the prince out of the throne room. It’s stifling in there, appropriate since it is a room constructed for the sole purpose of being imposing, and once you’re out in the hall again you breathe slowly. “How much does he hate me?” You ask quietly, looking up at the man beside you for some kind of gauge of how you did. It was only a few sentences and the king’s expression inscrutable.

“He is impressed with you.” Javi chuckles. “Less with your dress, but with you? Very impressed.”

“My dress?” With all the thought you put into it, you still managed to make the wrong decision and you close your eyes momentarily against your disappointment in yourself. “I don’t know how you figured that out from just him looking at me, but I’ll change before dinner.”

“Do not change.” Javi implores you. “It will be perfect for a non-formal family dinner. The king is just…proper at all times.”

“I can’t imagine anything in a palace being informal.” With a shake of your head and another deep breath, you nod. “Alright. I won’t change. Since you don’t want me to.”

Guiding you through the palace, Javi starts pointing out different wings and areas. Mentioning where the kitchens and the dining rooms are, alongside the ball room as he makes his way to the family quarters. “Here is where we live, keeping away from the working side of the house. We have another set of kitchens and a movie room over here.”

It’s unbelievable to hear him call this building as big and busy as two city blocks a house, but of course that’s what it is to him. He lives here – his whole family does and probably always has. “Are we ever allowed to cook, or is that considered rude?” The question seems simple, but nothing about your new life is simple. “I mean…you have a screening room. Would it be improper for us to make our own popcorn?” You know he loves movies, so you lean into that to try to give him some common ground to tread on.

“There is a kitchen in our section of the house.” Javi nods. “If you like to cook, no one is going to tell the queen she cannot.”

“It may take me a little time to adjust to all of this, but I assure you I won’t do anything to embarrass you. That’s partly why I’m asking now…so that I don’t misstep.” The titles throw you off kilter more than you expected, but you nod in reciprocation and try to be confident in your smile. He is leading you toward an elaborately gilded set of white double doors that seems to be guarded - or at least watched - by yet another of the endless amounts of footmen in the palace.

“I have chosen your suite myself.” He admits, biting his lip and hoping that he had chosen well. “I made sure that you are close to me, a view of the ocean outside your balcony.” You would stay separate until your marriage of course, but if you wanted to continue to keep your own rooms, he would not object. It would be wrong of him to force intimacy.

“Which way are you?” There is another set of doors at the end of the hallway and a set almost directly across the hall from you, but after passing so many similar closed doors on the way here, you wouldn’t presume to guess which set is his. “I mean…” you stammer, realizing that might sound too eager. “In case you…send for me…or something.”

Javi decides that he will show you his room first, slowing down to the door that leads to his room. “Here I am.” He offers, opening the double doors and motioning for you to enter if you want.

You hadn’t meant to ask for a tour, but when it’s offered you step inside carefully to take in the surroundings. It is elaborately decorated, of course, with a colour scheme of blue and white and dark woods that makes the already high ceilings feel like they reach clear into the sky. Plush upholstered sofas around a low table and a large desk occupy the front room, and the open door to the bedroom allows you just a peak of the four-posted bed in the same dark wood with blue bedsheets and fresh white flowers on the bedside table. “I think I would never leave, if I were you.” You offer him a smile, seeing the books left strewn on his desk while everything else is immaculate. The staff must be instructed not to tidy that particular piece of furniture.

“There are days I would love not to leave my room.” Javi promises, biting his lip when he realizes how it sounds. Your room is mirrored to his, although the color scheme is green. He hopes you like the color. There is also a connecting door to the suites, although it is currently locked. “Shall we see your room now?”

“Please.” You don’t call out the comment because there’s no chance in the world that he would flirt with you after just meeting, but that doesn’t stop your smile from growing when you follow him – back out of the front room of his suite and to the set of gilded double doors right next door.

“This is your home now.” He assures you with an excited grin, looking over his shoulder at you before throwing the doors open and stepping back so you can see the space he had arranged for you.

“Oh…” A small gasp escapes you when he steps back, letting you see the entirety of the beautifully decorated space for yourself. The dominant colour is a beautiful spring green, with white and gold accents to keep it from being overwhelming. The effect, along with the dark, walnut coloured furniture and beautiful paintings on the walls is to be both welcoming and luxurious in a way that steals your breath. “It’s…it’s beautiful.”

“Besides my room, this is a favorite.” Javi admits, striding into the room so he can open the double doors that lead out onto the large balcony. “Coffee out here in the mornings is wonderful.”

The view is of the cliffside that you approached on your way from the docks, but since you’re currently on the second floor you feel like you’re floating in the air as you look out over the scene. “If you ever lose me, I’ll be right here,” you joke quietly, coming up next to him to admire the view. There are no swimmers this evening but a few boats on the horizon, and the trailed purples and pinks of the setting sun to tell you that you are in the east wing of the palace. “Sunrises here must be stunning.”

“They are.” Javi nods, looking out over the beautiful scene for just a moment before he looks back at you again. You’ve gone dreamy eyed and soft as you lean against the railing of the balcony and look out over the water. “I used to jump off the cliffs right over there.” Javi points past your left where the island sticks out at a point. “Normally trying to do it right as the sun broke over the horizon. Thinking I could become a merman and swim away.”

“If any place in the world has the magic to make it happen, I think it might be here.” Yet you can just imagine the heart attack it must have given his mother to discover that her little boy was cliff jumping of all things. The tenacity of it almost makes you laugh when you look back at him. “Thank you.” The words are soft but you mean them. “For not disliking me on principle. I know neither of us asked for this, but I will try my hardest to be good to you.”

“I did not react very well at first.” Javi admits, frowning as he looks out over the water again, ashamed for the first time. “Nothing against you, I was born with my future set. Nothing mattered but the crown. Becoming king. I could not write movies or become an actor. Fly planes or go to the moon.” He sighs. “But I could choose my queen. Or so I thought.”

“I’m sorry.” You are no more to blame for the circumstance than he is, but you hate to see hurt in his eyes. Or any kind of regret. It hurts your heart in the most unexpected way. “I have had my future set for me, as well. But at least I knew who you were. You should have been told, and I am very sorry that you weren’t.”

“My father knows I would have tried to contact you.” He hums. “To find out what you are like. My parents were arranged.” He explains. “They knew each other for one year before they married and he thinks that it is best to not know about the other until we are able to live together.” It didn’t make sense to him, but he doesn’t know if his opinion would have been different if his mother would have lived.

“We don’t have the luxury of a year anymore.” A fact which benefits no one and probably hurts him much more than it seems at first glance. All you can do is what you’ve been told is now your job for the rest of your life - support him. “Well…I’m here now. We’ll make the very best of everything that we can.”

“Do you want to marry me?” He asks suddenly, feeling that is the most important question. Beyond being told to, if you aren’t willing, he will defy his father’s wishes. “I am not— I do not force my will on others.” Ironic since his will becomes law when he is crowned king.

When you pause, it’s not because you dislike him. Or because you necessarily dislike the situation you have found yourself in. “No one has ever asked me that before,” you admit, seeing fear flit behind his eyes when you don’t answer him immediately. “It’s not an easy or simple question. Just like this life is not easy or simple.” Taking a deep breath, you imagine every day of your childhood where you had false friends and assigned playmates. College with its challenges and misunderstandings. The last few years of a career you knew was doing good work but felt empty at the end of every day. All the short relationships that seemed never to mean anything. Here, with him, there might be a chance for meaning. There is hope, at least, and that is surprisingly more than you’ve felt in a long time. “But I’ve spent my whole life preparing myself to do this. To support you, or help you, or even to stand back and be a silent shoulder to lean on if that is all you wanted from me. I—I want you to succeed. And I think that I can help you with that. So…yes. I want to marry you.” But you won’t ask him to love you. That would either come or it wouldn’t, and to force it would be even worse.

“Do you want…love?” Javi asks softly, not expecting your thought-out answer. You had been trained for him. Handpicked by his parents and educated to be his partner, probably even encouraged to adopt passions he enjoys. “Between us? Or do you not think that possible?” He pauses. “Do you resent me?”

“I did. For a time, when I was younger.” You simply can’t see lying to him as having any benefit at all, even if the truth isn’t pretty. Lies are what you’ve seen your father spin time after time, campaign after campaign. They never last and they certainly don’t make a good foundation for a relationship of any kind. “I…” Your eyes drop nervously. “I wish for love. Everyone does. Or at least I would hope that they do. And I don’t think it’s impossible that we could have it, just because we were arranged. I just…I would never ask you to pretend or to force yourself. If we spend our lives as friends, that’s still more than a lot of other people get.”

“I wish for love too.” Javi admits quietly, leaning both arms against the railing. “I did love.” He knows you need to understand the sometimes ugly dynamic of his family. Especially if you are going to be queen. “Gabriela, I asked my father for permission to marry her.” He looks over at you apologetically even if he had not known about you at the time. “He refused for reasons I now understand, but I was heartbroken. My cousin Lucas married her. For spite, to taunt me, who knows? He had never been interested in her until I asked.”

“Forgive me for saying so, but I don’t think I like your cousin very much.” If that’s the sort of way he behaves, you can’t see liking either this cousin or Gabriela very much. The two of you have inched closer to each other at the balcony railing without realizing it, but when you look up at him again he is closer than you last remember. “Do you…” Breath sticks in your throat nervously. “Do you want to marry me? I know you said it would be dishonorable according your father to step away from this, but I won’t force you.”

“My mother chose you.” He looks down at his hands for a moment before he looks back into your eyes. “I don’t know much about you, but I don’t believe that she would choose someone who she didn’t believe would fit me.”

“I was barely out of diapers when our parents agreed to this,” you remind him quietly. “But…my father says I’m like her. And our mothers were good friends.” It doesn’t necessarily signify anything, but it seems to comfort him, and there’s value in that. “Before she died…your mother used to send me a birthday gift every year. Your father continued the tradition after she passed. I don’t…I assume you don’t know that.”

“No, nothing.” Javi frowns, turning towards you and tilting his head curiously. “What kinds of gifts would he send you? Please tell me it wasn’t the political books he would gift me.”

“No.” It actually makes you laugh a little, knowing you would have devoured whatever was sent no matter what. “Sometimes it was books or films. Other times it was art. Twice it was jewelry. I think…I think they may have been things that you like, but there was never an explanation or letter than came with them. Just the gift and a card each year.”

“I love movies.” His eyes flash with excitement and he leans towards you. “What is your favorite movie?” He asks eagerly.

He lights up with the question, giddy and excited, and it’s possible that he’s never looked more handsome to you than right now. “Moonstruck.” You tell him honestly, wondering if he might find the choice of a love story to be a little silly.

“Nic Cage.” His smile widens and he leans in. “He is my favorite actor. I love all of his works.”

That does explain the heap of Nicolas Cage movies you were sent for your sixteenth birthday. But instead of pointing it out, you nod and return his smile to encourage him. Maybe if you can open up to each other, you can find that common ground that you need. “What is yours?”

Javi bites his lip and shakes his head. “You will think it is silly.” He admits, but your eyes are begging him to tell you and it’s only fair that he return the sentiment since you had told him your favorite movie. “Okay.” He leans into you even more. “My favorite movie is Paddington 2.”

Surprised to not hear a Nic Cage title, you tilt your head in consideration before admitting, “I’ve never seen it. Would you…want to watch it together? Maybe?”

“You’ve never seen it?” Javi shakes his head and looks completely flabbergasted. “Of course we can watch it. As soon as possible. You have to see it.”

“As soon as you want.” Anything that could make him smile like that will be worth it. The magnetism of his happiness is rather remarkable.

“Tonight will be too soon.” He frowns, as if he is reminding himself. “You will be jet lagged, so we will do it another day, sí?”

“I slept on the flight.” You promise him, hating to see the light leave his eyes. “We can watch it after dinner if you want to?”

“I will not blame you if you fall asleep.” He promises, nodding. There is a discreet knock on the door and it is pushed open, the butler for the family quarters bringing in your luggage.

A woman around your own age comes in with your things and glances out at the balcony before directing herself into the suite’s bedroom with your belongings. “Who are they?” It might be ignorant to ask, given that both people seem to be wearing a uniform, but this is your very first day of palace life.

“That is Frederica.” He murmurs softly. “She is your lady’s maid. She is here to assist you. Her mother served mine and now she will serve you, if you approve.”

"I can't see any reason why I wouldn't." Short of having the woman actively sabotage you, which would seem like a terrible choice for everyone involved, all you can think is to be grateful to even have the help. "Is it alright if I go and introduce myself? Or would that be...odd?"

“It would not be odd.” Javi chuckles quietly and thinks that it’s cute that you are so worried about mistepping. “It will be very good. Frederica knows that you are important, but she does not know yet that you are here to be my queen.”

"If I say so, then word will get around." There's a seriousness in your eyes when you look at him again, and you try not to give in to the nervous habit of biting your lip. "I don't really know what I would say of myself, but I won't mention it if you don't want me too." If you're not sure, says the anxiety in the way your shoulders tense.

“No one knows about the king yet.” Javi cautions. “I am sure there are rumors, but I see no problem letting her know that you are my intended. Since we are to be married so soon.”

"I'll be back in just a moment." It's funny to you how you actually don't want to leave his side. You've become attached to him so quickly that you have to acknowledge that it's actually lucky, in a way. But you offer him a smile before slipping away, looking both ways in the suite before you see through the giant double doors that open into your bedroom. Frederica is carefully unpacking your clothes into an armoire when you cross the doorframe and you clear your throat gently to get her attention. "Perdóname." Don't be timid says your father's voice in your head. "Hablas ingles?"

Turning, the young woman sends you a polite smile, standing and the curtseying formally. “Sí, yes, I speak English, madam.” She offers quietly.

“I wanted to introduce myself.” Your name seems so simple and almost small considering there is a prince on the balcony, but you offer it anyway and with a smile. “It must have taken you a lot of hard work to be able to work in the palace. I—I’m grateful to have someone knowledgeable to help me.”

It takes a moment for her to make the translation in her mind and when she does, her smile grows wider, friendlier. “Thank you, madam.” She nods again. “I will help you whatever you need. You just tell me what you what and I will help.”

“Gracias, Frederica.” If you were at home you would shake her hand, but here that isn’t really the same sort of option. You take another step forward out of nerves and bite your lip, knowing that this woman will be the one who lays out your clothes and cares for your things and keeps your life in order as you get busier and busier with things to come. “I will need lots of help very soon. There will be plenty to do before the wedding.”

"Si, madam." She ducks her head and there is slightly straightening to her shoulders in pride. "You will have to meet the potential ladies in waiting. They will assist you with the majority of the planning. I will do whatever you need of me." Her eyes slide towards the wardrobe. "Including assisting you in choosing clothes that are appropriate for events."

“I am more than sure that the king will have opinions on what is most appropriate.” If he is anything like your own father, he will likely try dictating things outright. At least at first. “But the prince’s opinions will weigh more heavily on my heart.” A small smile comes to your lips that you simply can’t stop. “Any gifts from my husband-to-be or things that he indicates he likes best will likely be worn more often.”

Frederica nods quickly, making a mental note of that for you and smiles and whimsy of it. "Yes madam." She agrees. "The prince does have exquisite taste." She offers, glancing back at Javi before looking back at you. It's hard not to admire the prince, or develop a crush on him since he is so kind, but she also knows her place and that it would never be by the prince's side.

“I’m very grateful for your help.” Following her eyes out to where the prince is still standing on your balcony, your smile widens just a little. There is already a kind of pull in you that wants to be at his side. “Muchas gracias, Frederica. Perhaps tomorrow we come have a more lengthy discussion?” For all the things you do know to be prepared for, there will certainly be ones that are a surprise, and for this young woman to be your ally is so, so important.

She is surprised that you would like to talk to her, to perhaps sit down but she nods again. "Yes madam. I will finish unpacking your luggage and getting you organized." She offers before she turns back to her tasks.

“Gracias,” you nod once more and decide to let her get back to work, slipping out of the room to return to the balcony. “She seemed to take that positively in stride,” you sigh with a little bit of relief.

"Our staff is used to dealing with me." Javi explains with a small, sheepish grin. He knows that he has broken them in with his antics and his nonconformity. "I admit that I have been a handful."

“I can’t imagine you ever being unpleasant.” That’s the furthest from what you know of him so far, but you shrug your shoulders a little and glance at your watch nervously. It’s been hours already since you landed and it feels like only minutes. “How long does it take to walk to the dining room?” It’s such an odd question but you feel certain that you’ll be walking miles upon miles every day just navigating the palace. “I get the feeling that your father would not like to be kept waiting for dinner.”

"Only three minutes." He chuckles. "When the elevator is being slow." He had brought you up the stairs, but there is a small elevator that is tucked away in the front of the wing to make it easier to get from floor to floor. He knows that it will take you some time to get used to the palace but he. is not anticipating hiding away from you. Instead, he finds himself drawn to you and he offers you a shrug. "I can leave you to freshen up if you wish? Or we can start to walk towards the dining room?"

“I would rather walk with you.” Being left alone sounds oddly terrifying and you’re glad - not for the first time - that he is the one who came to pick you up today and was so willing to talk with you. It has made things infinitely easier.

“Yeah?” He grins and offers you his arm so you can walk together. “If we get there fast enough, we can manage a drink before my father arrives.” He teases. “I am feeling a good stiff cocktail is in order?”

“What is your favorite?” Taking his arm makes butterflies flood your stomach in the most unexpected way.

"A good gin and tonic is underrated." He admits as he feels you curl your hand around his arm and he knows that it feels...right. There will be thousands of times where you take his arm just like this. This is the beginning. "However, I have fallen in love with an 'old fashioned."

“Have you ever tried a gin and tonic with pink gin?” It had become a favourite cocktail after an event you attended a few years ago and the idea of being able to share something like that with him makes you feel a little giddy.

"Pink gin?" Javi shakes his head and looks over at you curiously. "I do not know if I even know that pink gin existed. What does it taste like?"

“It’s fruitier. Like…strawberries and raspberries along with the juniper flavour.” God that smile. When it’s aimed at you it’s brighter than the sun. No photograph ever could have captured that. “I had it at a White House garden party a few years ago and went out to buy myself a bottle the next day.”

"We will have to keep some on hand then." Javi makes a note of it and tilts his head. "Is there a brand you like? So we can order it if needed?"

“I think I probably buy the low end,” you admit with a laugh. “I’ll write it down for you, or…for whomever does the ordering, I suppose. I hope you like it, too.”

“Hopefully they will have a bottle somewhere in the palace.” Javi muses. “We normally keep all kinds of different liquors on hand for visiting dignitaries.”

“Do you have any favorite visitors?” Turning the conversation away from yourself and back to him, you want to focus on getting all of those little details that can’t be conveyed in a press release or a birthday gift from one of his parents.

“The Americans.” Javi admits with a grin. “There is something about it. I would have loved to visit your Hollywood.”

“Can you not?” That he wishes for it makes you want to find a way for it to happen instantly. “I would think a prince could do whatever he wanted.”

“It would not- I have not left Mallorca.” He admits. “Not since I graduated university.” He shakes his head. “It is tradition that you do not start traveling as a Royal if you are in line for the crown until you are king.” It’s backwards to his own way of thinking, but his father had insisted that he needed to learn how to run the country here. His suspicion was that his father was afraid he would never come back, if he were honest with himself.

“Not even if your brand new American bride-to-be suggested a honeymoon in Los Angeles?” It’s a slightly unconventional choice considering you could go literally anywhere, but it sounds like it’s his dream. He looks soft and starry-eyed at the mere mention of Hollywood, and you know that your job from now on is to make sure he’s as happy as he possibly can be.

“Our honeymoon is supposed to be spend on a yacht along the coast and make informal visits to our islands.” He explains. “Not quite a royal tour but a royal tour.”

“Then we’ll find another time to make your dream come true.” Gently squeezing his arm with your hand, you offer him a soft smile and try not to make too much notice of how muscles the bicep under your touch actually is. “I promise.”

He sighs softly and nods, not quite sure if he would ever be able to make that particular dream come true, but it's a nice thought. "For now, we should focus on pulling off a wedding in just two months." He chuckles.

“I’m sure your father will have a grasp of how to get things done.” The two of you make it to the hall where the main dining room is and he leads you into a drawing room nearby with a footman inside the door and a bar cart at the ready. You seem to have arrived before the king, but the man standing near the cart wastes no time in springing into action, apparently anticipating being asked to make the prince’s preferred before-dinner cocktail.

"What would you like to drink?" Javi asks, curious to know what you prefer drinking over pink gin. "And—" He swivels his head towards Geralt. "Do we have pink gin in the palace?"

The man’s even and professional face hides any hint of emotion, but he nods deeply and politely to the prince. “If not, your Highness, it will be acquired,” he assures Javi. “Should it be found immediately?”

“That isn’t necessary.” The last thing you want is to be seen as demanding or high maintenance. That almost gives you anxiety just to think about. “Whatever the prince is enjoying tonight will be wonderful, I’m sure.”

"Perhaps if it could be available tomorrow?" Javi asks, looking to you for confirmation. He wants to make sure that you are okay with that, although you just said that it wasn't necessary for it to be immediately available. "I was just informed that it makes the best gin and tonic and we must all try it."

“Sí, príncipe.” The man – Geralt – nods accordingly. “I will inform the steward.” He is about to ask if the younger royal would enjoy his usual old fashioned tonight when the king strolls into the room looking like the stroll might have been a heavy effort. “Cava, Geralt.” He instructs without even sparing the servant a glance. “We are celebrating tonight.”

Javi's brows lift in surprise but he nods towards Geralt and pats your arm as he leans in. "We shall have another drink after dinner then." He murmurs conspiratorially. "We might need it."

Stifling a giggle behind a bitten smile, you just nod to him and make a mental note of the name and face of the staff member in the room to lock away for later.

Drinks are poured and served quickly, and the king raises his glass from the plush upholstered loveseat he chose at the center of the room. “We will discuss your future tonight,” he informs you unilaterally, clearly not willing to hear any conversation otherwise. “There is much to do.”

"Of course." Javi nods, aware that his father would want to commandeer the conversation and steer it towards the upcoming wedding. "Although perhaps before we start planning a wedding, I might have a date with the woman I am supposed to marry?" He asks before he takes a sip of his cava. "Or at least present her with her choice of wedding sets from the royal collection?"

“Appropriate choices are being brought to your suite for you to select from in the morning.” The king tells him smoothly, as though it were obvious. “Although I do not know why you want to date a woman who has been chosen and bred for you, I did expect it.” He very nearly rolls his eyes, but manages not to. “You have two weeks to acquaint yourselves with each other and to present her with a ring. I assume that will be more than enough time.” It has to be, but he doesn’t say so. Servants talk and his illness isn’t public knowledge yet.

Javi frowns, shaking his head. If his father is pressing for two weeks, he would rather it be one. Less, if he thought Javi would go along with it. "While I appreciate your very generous terms, I would just like one date." He looks to you. "Unless you would like the two weeks?"

If you were being honest, you might admit that the swift pace of this whole thing has you on edge, but you understand that there isn’t really any luxury for comfort. “I wonder what the people will think,” you say instead, taking a small sip of your drink. “To hear their prince is going to marry a woman they have never even heard of before. The two weeks seems prudent not for our comfort, but for theirs.” Image is everything, that is the lesson you learned being the daughter of an American politician.

“The people have come to expect an arraigned marriage from the crown.” Javi’s father dismissed your concerns with another sip of his sparkling wine. “A press release has already been drafted, highlighting the family connection between your mother and the late queen.”

“Then I see no reason to hesitate.” The feeling of disappointment that your idea was useless is not one you relish at all but you paint on a placid smile and try to get at least one point back with the man you’re supposed to marry. “I am sure the prince will plan a wonderful date for us.”

“I will.” Javi nods, unhappy that his father is so casually dismissing your concerns about introducing you to the people. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” Seeing as you’ve both agreed to go through with the arrangement, you’ll happily have whatever time with him you can get. “The sooner the better.” The king dismisses, rising when a middle-aged man in a crisp uniform steps into the room to announce the meal.

Javi winces in apology at the abrupt way the king is handling this ‘informal’ dinner. Hating that he is not being honest about why he is insisting this happens so fast to you.

The smile you offer him in return is sympathetic, and you take his arm again when he offers it to you to go into dinner. The grand table is anything but informal, and the three chairs clustered at one end don’t afford you the comfort of sitting next to the prince, but you’ll manage just fine. Nothing can be as tedious as a constituent fundraising dinner…right?

Once you are sat down, your pre dinner drinks are whisked away and a fresh glass of wine is placed in front of each plate. “Thank you.” Javi murmurs to the silent staff as they move seamlessly. Setting the first course in front of him.

“There is little time for you to get settled.” The king turns his eyes to you, watching you carefully as you begin to eat. He has already had his first bite so at least you knew to wait for that. “Appropriate candidates for lady in waiting will need to be interviewed tomorrow. You will choose two at most.”

“I understand.” Well, you sort of understand. Interviewing ladies in waiting sounds like taking applications for best friend – an idea that sounds completely off the wall to most people.

“Good. Once my son has presented you with the royal engagement set, we will announce the wedding day. The coordinator will be in to expedite the guest list, have your list ready.”

“I will.” If this is the king’s version of informal, you can only imagine what a formal meal will be like. Even your house growing up had allowed for a little laughter here and there. The prince looks beside himself across the table from you, and you decide to take a chance. Stretching out as far as you can under the table without having to change how you’re sitting in your seat, you just barely manage to tap the toe of his loafer with the point of your heel. It makes him look up at you and you flash him a smile while his father’s focus is on his meal. It’s little more than a friendly gesture, but at least it’s friendly. So he doesn’t have to feel like the two of you have been separated across an ocean at the elaborate dinner table.

Javi nearly jumps when you touch his foot, his eyes darting up to meet yours. Finding the playful light in your eyes refreshing and he nods slightly. Thankful that you are not already screaming that it is too much, or insisting for more detail. “Perhaps we can have a less traditional honeymoon?” Javi asks. “Since we are not well acquainted with one another?”

“How much less traditional?” His father clearly isn’t pleased with the question, but wants to know how much leeway his son is attempting to bargain for.

“Perhaps my bride can show me her favorite places in America?” He offers, looking over at you and nodding. “I think that would be a good experience for us to bond as a couple.”

“Is one of her favourite places California?” The way the king asks is exasperated, fully expecting to know the answer. “Only one of, your Majesty.” The whole idea of going to the States together was yours, and you really don’t want him to get in trouble for it. “But the United States has many beautiful places and cultural sites to visit.” You swallow your nerves, willing yourself to sound demure and hopeful instead of like you’re on defense. “The prince explained that a traditional honeymoon would be a tour of the islands to make appearances and greet the people. It could be an educational and unique experience to tour America as well.”

“It would be good.” Javi insists. “I wish to get to know her, without the press, without the speculation. You had a year with my mother before you married, and you took that from us.”

“Not intentionally.” The king sighs, knowing that it’s true but not liking the accusation. “I will consider it.” Is the concession he makes after a pause, and you’re sure you see him wince. “As long as each location can be made secure. Safety cannot be ignored.”

“Really?” Javi’s brows shoot up and his voice pitches up slightly in hope. “Yes, sí, we can have it secure. It can be planned out.” Hope flares in his chest that perhaps his father might give him something that he had wanted forever.

“I will consider it,” he repeats, stressing that he could still say no if he chose to.

Javi swallows and the light dims in his eyes. “Yes, papá.” He murmurs quietly and looks back down at the plate in front of him. He hates how he is 35 years old and still feels like a small boy being taken to task for misbehaving.

Something like fury ignites in the pit of your stomach, taking away your appetite and making you ache for this man you only just met. A grown adult with a world of responsibilities and being treated like a small child by his father. Right there and then you swallow all your own fear and apprehension. “I will ask the First Lady’s secretary for a list of places that the Secret Service has vetted,” you offer, knowing that making that phone call will be interesting. You’re known to the First Lady but only marginally, and this constitutes a favour. “If that will please your Majesty, of course,” you add, thoroughly sucking up, but with a backbone.

Javi shakes his head, knowing that the more that the idea is pushed, the more the king is most likely to say no. Even after doing everything he wants, Javi still falls short of his expectations. He looks down at his plate and pushes a bite around. “There is no need for that.”

The rest of the meal passes in virtual silence. The king gives instructions occasionally or criticisms, but mainly focuses on his meal. He dismisses the offer of dessert and it is whisked away as he stands.

Javi stands, regardless of if he wanted the dinner to be done. You stand when the king does. Pleased when you do the same as he waits for his father to say something.

“Buenas noches.” He looks down at his hands when he says good night, barely acknowledging the two of you until he finally looks to his son. “Javier, come and see me before breakfast.” He instructs, as though his son would ever be up and functional at such an early hour. “And you, señorita,” he turns his gaze to you appraisingly. “I expect to hear your choice of ladies before noon.”

"Buenas noches." Javi watches as his father turns and stalks out of the room, proud even though he can tell that the older man is struggling to keep his gait steady. He wonders how bad the pain is and wishes that he would have just relaxed some. It might help to not expend so much energy trying to maintain a strong facade.

“Buenas noches.” It’s too little too late, murmured as the king walks away, but you look to the prince across from you with concern written on your face. “If I said something wrong, I apologize.” You must have, otherwise what could have made the monarch so ill-tempered seemingly out of nowhere?

"You did nothing wrong." Javi sighs and looks at the servants as they come to clear the table. "Would you please serve dessert for us on my balcony?" He asks, turning towards you after getting the affirmation. "I figured we could talk some more unless you are too tired?"

“Not at all.” Ending the night now would leave an awful taste in your mouth, and the prospect of spending more time with him actually sounds relaxing, even if things are still so new. “Dessert and then our movie?”

He loves that you are still anticipating the movie and he nods. "That sounds like a perfect ending to a very...different day for both of us." He acknowledges.

"What is different now will become familiar in time." Hoping that his father's irritability won't be included in that, you know that at least your time together will become easier as the days go by.

"Yes it will." Javi sends you a grateful smile and motions towards the door. "Shall we go have dessert then? Perhaps the conversation can be a bit more...relaxed." He knows his father didn't set a very nice tone for the meal and you hadn't eaten much.

"That sounds nice." Relaxation, if it will be possible tonight, sounds heavenly.

"Almost as relaxing as a bubble bath with a very large glass of scotch." Javi chuckles. "Or a lot of champagne in the pool."

No. No. No. Don't imagine him in a bath or the pool... You bite the inside of your lip as you follow him out of the dining room, taking the extra moment to compose yourself. "Have you always liked the water?" It's a natural and innocent enough question, considering he is from a nation of islands.

"Since I could remember." Javi grins. "My mother used to say I could swim before I could walk. I used to sneak out so often to swim that there was a guard at the pool all hours of the night for safety."

"At home we would have called you a 'water baby'." It's a charming image, one that makes you smile when you look up at him. "I promise you won't have to worry on my part. I've been swimming since I was a little girl and I can keep up."

"Then we will have to swim sometime." He suggests, watching as you continue to smile at him. Feeling his stomach drop pleasantly and he wonders for first time what it would be like to kiss you.

"Perhaps an unofficial, very relaxed second date?" You raise an eyebrow at him and smile again, feeling butterflies again. "Just because we don't go out and do something fancy doesn't mean it can't be a date."

"Would you—" Javi stops for a moment, slightly flustered and starts again. "Would you like to be with me tomorrow morning?" He asks. "When I pick out the rings?" He feels like you should have some kind of say in the what you wear for the rest of your life. "Help me chose something you like?"

"If you want me to be, I absolutely will." Some men feel it's their duty to make the choice themselves, but you have to admit that you like that he is asking. That he isn't making decisions for you like your fathers have done for the two of you since you were young. "I might...ask you about some things that you like? For wedding planning? I have a feeling that I will be expected to make decisions about things quickly and I want you to be happy with the day as well."

"I am fairly easy to please." Javi shrugs slightly. "It will be a royal wedding so there will be limited options but I do love anything with honey in it. For the menu."

"Honey." You nod, committing it to memory. "Is there anything that you maybe don't like? Or that I should avoid?" Looking down at the parquet flooring as you walk, you decide to open up a little bit about something personal to show him that you're really trying to connect with him. "For instance...when my parents were married, my mother carried a huge bouquet of flowers and always laughed about how heavy it was and how, when she did the bouquet toss, it went about two feet and dropped right to the floor." Thinking of your mother makes your smile go a little wider and your express a little dreamier. "So whenever I imagined my wedding, I always imagined a smaller bouquet."

"I will have to wear my royal uniform, but I've always imagined that my bride would have two gowns." It's silly to think about, but he had imagined it. Oftentimes with Gabriela, but now he could imagine it with you. "One for the ceremony, beautiful and regal. And another for the reception afterward. Something, uh, sexy." He admits before he realizes how that sounds. "Not that I— I don't expect, uh, sex. Not— I—" he fizzles out and just stops talking.

"Javi." It's the first time you've actually called him by his name, and you reach out instinctively to put your hand on his arm. "Please don't--" You clamp your mouth shut momentarily as two women pause in their journey down the hallway to curtsy to the prince before continuing on. "Please don't be embarrassed." Lowering your voice seems prudent, so you step closer to him. "We're going into a marriage, and we were both very clear about wanting a life with love. To me, sex comes with those things naturally."

"I just don't— uh—" Javi sighs, looking into your eyes sincerely. "I don't want you to feel that just because you are married to me, that I expect you to-" He lowers his voice even more. "Consummate our marriage until you are ready." He finally finished, his skin slightly ruddier with nerves. "I'm not— it's not like I'm inexperienced but it's never been expected of anyone."

"Why don't we talk about this in private?" You suggest, nodding toward the small hallway behind you where you now know that a small elevator is artfully hidden. "It's important to talk about, but it's...it should just be for us."

"Of course." Javi shakes his head at himself and guides you to the elevator. He knows the staff put up with him and are used to his antics, but he doesn't want to make things embarrassing for you.

Up in the elevator and down the hall, the two of you are completely alone once you step inside his suite and let the door shut behind you. "I think it's really important to talk about," you clarify quietly, feeling a little self-conscious about how silent you've both been on the way upstairs. "I just...we met only a few hours ago. So talking about having sex with you with you, with a lot of other people around seemed...less personal."

"I agree." Javi can see how it would be unnerving to talk when others were around to you but he's grown up used to those people. "I guess the entire conversation about sex right now is a little ridiculous but the circumstances we find ourselves in means we need to discuss it."

"We do." Even as you nod, the two of you sort of move automatically toward the balcony off to the side of his bedroom at the back of his suite. It mirrors your own rooms in a comfortable way. "But if you want to talk about dates, or the engagement, or the wedding, or anything else instead I fully understand." Who knows? He may be the sort of man who feels much more comfortable diving in to the deep end of things. You're just trying to give him the choice.

"We are going to be discussing nothing but that for the next two months." Javi jokes, rolling his eyes. "I did not mean to sound so abrupt. I just wanted you to know that I don't expect you to sleep with me now, on our wedding night, or - well, ever if you decided you did not want to."

"I really don't think that that will be the case." You might answer a little too quickly to be proper, but the idea of you never wanting to have sex with him is ridiculous. He's drop dead gorgeous and in just a few months he's going to be your husband - those things alone add up to sex. "That is..." A deep breath hopefully hides the way you fluster at the quick response. "As far as physical attraction goes...it won't be an issue."

Javi frowns for a moment, surprised by your answer. He's never been overly self-assured, but he knows he's reasonably attractive. At least his crown got him laid in the very least. "Me?"

"Yes, you." A flurry of emotions cross his face that you can't read but you tilt your head in confusion. "That surprises you?"

"Is it— is it because of the—" he gestures helplessly for a moment. "The crown? The fact that you are 'supposed' to want your spouse?"

"I—" He holds out your chair for you at the little table that has been set up on his balcony, and it seems the staff took it upon themselves to pour out more sparkling wine for the two of you to enjoy privately. "I don't expect you to jump into my bed right away, either." After all, you had expected it to take much longer to warm up to each other. "I would like to think that it might happen...organically? Since we're actually attracted to each other?"

“Organically.” He nods in agreement after he comes around to sit down in front of you again. “I like that. No pressure. Sí.”

"Some things shouldn't have a schedule." Of course, if that smile stays on his face as bright and beaming as it is right now, you'll be shocked if it takes the whole two months before the wedding.

“So you know,” he picks up his wine glass. “There is a door between our rooms. It is locked on your side, so I cannot open it.”

"How very scandalous." Yet it warms you through that he had enough optimism to want to give you an adjoining suite. It means that he wasn't against the idea of you getting along - otherwise he would have chosen rooms for you clear across the east wing. "You mean I could just unlock it and come say hello?"

“If you wished.” Javi nods and sends you a sheepish smile. “I promise I do not sleep in the nude, so I will not surprise you.”

You grin at the way he blushes and pick up your fork, ready to follow him into digging into the elaborate little tarts that were prepared for you tonight. "I hope it won't take us long before we can feel comfortable leaving that door unlocked," you admit, knowing that the hope is for emotional intimacy as well as physical.

It's almost unnerving, the way that things seem to be organically progressing between you. As if his parents had inadvertently found a person who was perfect for him personally rather than to be his political ally on the throne. He wonders what an American thinks about a monarchy and if you have been taught to believe in the ceremony of it all or if your Senator father had just agreed for his own political ambitions.

Eating in relative quiet isn’t unnerving with him the way it had been with his father present, and you’re not ashamed to be grateful for that. You had thought you would be nervous around him. Anxious or afraid to trip over your own two feet. But the truth is that he is a sweet and endearing man, and that spending time with him in these early stages is no hardship at all. Lost in your own little world of thought, you almost snap back to reality in one very particular thought. “Forgive me,” you put your glass down and shake your head at yourself. “I haven’t said ‘happy birthday’ and it was just two days ago. I hope you had a wonderful day.”

Javi freezes, surprised by the unexpected well wishes and he sends you a small, genuine smile. "Thank you. We had a party, and it was very entertaining." He muses. "I am sure my next birthday will be quite different." He frowns, knowing he will be king by then.

“I’m sure there will be protocols to follow, but we’ll still make sure you enjoy it.” You will make sure of that, knowing that he will have plenty of difficulties adjusting to his new title and that he shouldn’t have to lose out on everything he enjoys because of it.

"I never wanted to be king." Javi admits quietly, furtively looking up at you and then back down at his dessert. "I still don't want to be king."

“People who want to hold power rarely make good leaders.” You offer, thinking of the way your father so keenly wants to be president. “Craving power makes you greedy and ruthless once you have it.”

His brow pulls together as he contemplates your words, knowing that it is a fresh perspective and an honest one. You will be crowned queen no matter what you say, so you have no reason to lie. "You are right. I have no interest in greed or ruthlessness." It's easy to not be greedy when you've lived a life of luxury that most could never even dream of, but the things that he has always wanted were relatively simple.

“And you’ll be a better king than many others could be because of it.” The soft smile that brings out in you is honest, and you shrug your shoulders a little when you realize you’re just looking at him. “And I—I’m here to help you as best I can.”

"What are you passionate about?" Javi asks, leaning in. "I want to know more about you. I am sure that you have been told all about me, but please, tell me something no one else knows?"

“Oh—I—” There’s a sort of horror in realizing that your life has been an open book except for him. Your arranged marriage has been your biggest secret, since they’re not commonly accepted in America, and moreover he might be the first person to ask you about you in years. “I don’t know,” you admit quietly. “I…I miss being called by a nickname. I know that doesn’t seem…intimate or anything. But my mother used to call me Daisy. They were her favourite flower and she…she said I was the only thing she loved more than daisies.”

“Daisy.” Javi smiles softly at the idea and he knows that he will have to come up with a nickname for you. Something that wouldn’t tread on the toes of your mother’s nickname for you. “You should include that flower in our wedding.” He suggests. “Include her in the day.”

“You don’t think it’s a little…informal? For a royal wedding?” His father will likely think so, which is a disappointment. Your own father’s dislike for the flower is because it reminds him of his first wife. “Maybe it could be included in the flowers in my suite sometimes?”

“Hmmm.” You are right, the flower would be considered ‘too quaint’ He will have to come up with something for you, instinctively knowing you would appreciate it. “You can have daisies in your room every day if you wish.” He promises. “It is your private space to do with what you wish.”

“She would have liked you.” Memories of your mother are precious, but since both of you lost your mothers as teenagers you hope he can understand. “She’s the reason I value kindness.”

“I hope so.” Javi chuckles nervously, unused to compliments of that nature. Most of them are obviously surface level and meant to flatter, yours touches emotions he’s been told to ignore for doing what is best. “Considering she agreed to send her daughter to marry me.”

“When I asked about you once, she said that if you were anything like your mother then we were sure to get along well.” That thought had stayed in your mind for years as you wondered what the man would be like when you finally met him.

“I hope you don’t regret it.” He murmurs softly. “I know I am not…what people expect of a prince.”

“With all due respect to your title?” Hoping not to offend him with the way you have been looking at this situation for years, you fold your hands in your lap and twist your fingers around each other instead of shrugging. “I’m marrying you as a man, not a prince. We’re still people. Not only our jobs.”

Javi frowns, never thinking of things that way. He had never had any kind of disconnect between him as a person and his title. It was always an inextricable part of him. “I- I’ve never thought of it that way.”

“A good man can be a poor leader, and a good leader can be a bad man.” Of course someone could be successful at both, but that is infinitely more rare. “My first impression of you as a man has made me think that we could actually be very happy one day. I—I hope that’s not to forward.”

Javi stares at you for a moment, speechless. Nearly not even breathing in shock of your nearly immediate faith in him and what could be between you. “I want to be both. A good man and a thoughtful, good leader.” He admits quietly. “Maybe that is possible, but I wish to be happy.”

"I'll do everything I can to help you." Right now it's the biggest promise you can honestly make to him. You can't know for sure that you'll be happy together. Or that you'll find love. Or that he'll be a brilliant and caring king. None of those things are certain. But you can promise him that you will try - and give it all of your best effort to help him succeed.

“Now that we’ve discussed the non-important issues….” Javi jokes as he forks up the last bite of his food. “What shall we talk about?”

"Whatever you'd like." He had said he wanted to know about you but there isn't really much to tell. Since you are here to support him, your focus is on him entirely.

“What would you want to do?” He asks curiously. “If you could do anything in the world?”

"I've always thought that I would do this." Looking around you, the world that you envisioned is slightly different than what your reality is quickly becoming, but only slightly. The inside of the palace looks slightly different, the people are not exactly the way you imagined, and it is much more beautiful in person than in photographs. But largely...since you always knew that this is the life you would lead, this is what you had always dreamed of. Any childhood fantasies have gone by the wayside. "Come here and be a partner to you. Be a wife and a mother. Whatever you need me to be."

“So you’ve never been able to dream about what you want?” He is the same, his dreams squashed, but he hates that for you. “Do you like animals? Children? Charities?”

"For a lot of girls, my reality is their dream." You point out quietly. "Hallmark movies, like we said before. But...yes. I like animals and children. I used to babysit when I was younger to earn pocket money and I would walk dogs or check on cats for our neighbors when they went away. And I—I worked for a charity. Until yesterday." The visit to your office had been quietly devastating, but your boss hadn't fussed or given you grief. She had just been sad to see you go.

“As a Royal, as queen, you will be able to determine your own focus for your time and effort.” Javi explains quietly. “Often the queen will involve herself in charitable works for the country.”

"I helped organize fundraisers and events for a charity that bought instruments for public schools in New York City." It was good for your father's image, that was the original reason for the choice, but you had quickly started to meet some of the children and teachers who benefited from the program's work and their happiness made you work much harder for them than any Washington press release could. "I admit that I don't know as much as I could about the educational system here, but I enjoyed every moment of helping those students and teachers."

“Then if you would like, you could focus your effort on education.” Javi suggests. “Our education ministry would love the attention of the crown. Especially if it is a subject near and dear to the new queen.”

"If there is something you would rather have me put my efforts to, you only need to say so." He might know something that was close to his mother's heart, or something that needs more attention than the education ministry does. Or he may have a plain and simple preference. If that is the case, you would rather do what will make him happiest.

“I want you to be happy.” Javi says simply. “I want you to enjoy the work that you can and makes the heavy weight of the crowns we wear tolerable.”

"Then I'll educate myself on the Balearican education system before I speak to someone in the ministry." The placid expression on your face cracks to a smile, and you pick up your glass again to have another sip. "It would be good to know about the schools that our children will attend anyway."

Children. The way you say it so causally makes Javi nearly choke in surprise. That it was just a foregone conclusion that you would have his children. In a way, it was, but he had never thought of it quite like that. “Yes. The children all attend public school until they are ten.”

"I'm sorry." His face morphs through a riot of expressions and you panic slightly, thinking you've overstepped when you were only trying to think practically. "I didn't mean to—to startle you."

“No— immediately he is shaking his head, understanding that you think he is upset. “I had just- it’s - I had never thought I would be - it’s just that you’ve accepted that you will have my children so easily. I did not expect that when I learned of the arranged marriage.” He explains. “Some people take years to come to that way of thinking.”

"Except..." you tilt your head slightly, knowing that your experiences coming into this arrangement have been so different. "I have had years already. So if you feel that I am pushing you, or rushing things, please tell me. Because I don't mean to. Everything can be at your pace."

“I had hoped that I would be allowed to chose my queen.” Javi admits. “Just like I assume you have wished you could choose your husband. But I knew, deep down, I knew that I would have an arranged marriage.” It’s probably the first time he’s admitted that to himself. “I know what is expected of me, and I will not shirk my duties, but it is my hope that we will fit well together. Not just for political reasons, but privately.

"I loved fairy stories when I was a little girl." Your mother had read them to you as bedtime stories and you always begged for as many as she would consent to read. "I...I guess maybe it's a peculiarity of American girls. Because we have no royalty, we romanticize it. But when I was little I dreamed of having a Prince Charming." Since he had known Hallmark, he no doubt had seen some of the Americanized romanticism of royalty - and how over the top it can be portrayed. "So when I was told, at seven years old, that my parents had found me a prince for when I was grown up? It...it was actually something wonderful."

“When did you start to hate it?” He asks, knowing there must have been some point where you wanted to rebel against it. His was one day ago. When he learned about it, so he understands.

"When I was a young woman." It feels shameful to admit to him, but you want to be honest. "High school. College. I did date other people for a while. To have those experiences, and...and partially because I was afraid to come into this completely inexperienced and disappoint you." That is the first time you've ever admitted that out loud and you look away so you don't have to see him judge you for it. "When I found dating to be bitterly disappointing, I actually started to think of this arrangement with relief."

“Dating is horrible, isn’t it?” Javi can laugh about it now, but there has always been a sense of wondering when the other shoe would drop. When they would start to make demands. “I- I don’t blame you for wanting experience.” He promises. “I don’t judge you for that or expect- you know. That you are a virgin.”

"I am. Technically." Something about the truth of it - perhaps because it is the truth - makes you want to bury your head in all that beautiful sand on the beach below you. "I wanted experience, but it never felt right to have that experience with someone else." Realizing how that might sound, your head shoots up in distress. "Not—not that I expect the same of you. At all. Especially when you didn't know about me."

You’re gorgeous when you are flummoxed and Javi grins. Reaching out and touching your hand where it is resting on the flute of your sparkling wine. “It is okay, Margarita.” He assures you softly. “I will not judge or embarrass you. I may not please you, but I would like to try.”

"Margarita?" With your heart jumping up into your throat, you find yourself trying to both stare at his hand touching yours and bask in his smile simultaneously. It makes you seem even more flustered, and you can feel your cheeks burn over it. Over maybe because he's touching you. You can't tell.

Javi bites his lip. “Is that okay?” He asks softly.” La margarita…Daisy.” He explains, while you have show you are fluent in Spanish, that might not be something used in the slight Colombian accent you carry. “If not, I will not use it.”

"Oh." Allowing yourself to feel silly for not translating the word immediately, you find yourself smiling broadly and letting your fingers stretch out slightly to touch his. "No, it--it's beautiful. I just...it's silly. A Margarita is also a cocktail, and it's very popular in America. So I was confused at first. But please...please don't change it?" His own version of what your mother called you makes you want to laugh and cry with joy simultaneously. "I love it."

“Okay.” Javi nearly giggles in relief and nods. “Then with your permission, I will call you that privately.” He agrees, rubbing his thumb over the back over your hand as you touch him. “Just between us so it is special?”

"I agree enthusiastically." The soft, tentative way that your fingers tangle together with his is nothing like when you wring your own hands in anxiety. It's gentle and explorative and sparkling with excitement and attraction.

The moment seems to linger in gorgeous silence. Not uncomfortable but seeming building into something memorable between you. Both of you hesitant to stop smoking softly at each other.

"Thank you for suggesting this." The table between you is empty of its treats now, but the candles burn bright in the moonlight and lend an appreciated air of romance to the evening. "And for...for being open with me. And to me."

Javi’s smile turns shy and he squeezes your hand just a little tighter. “It helps that you are nothing like I imagined.” He confesses softly. “I was afraid that you would be cold, rigid and unwilling to look at life as an adventure. As much as royalty can, that is.”

"To be royal is an enormous adventure." At least, that's how you've always looked at it, but your smile quirks into a smirk. "Cliff diving to become a merman is not the only way to have an adventure, you know."

“Huh.” He frowns and then takes on a thoughtful expression. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

"Not growing up with royalty may have given me a different view of it than you have." With your fingers still intertwined, the candlelight flickers on your skin and casts shadows that sparkle off your nail polish whenever it hits just right. "But that might not be such a bad thing."

“No, I don’t think it will be a bad thing.” Javi agrees and the thought of what it would be like to kiss you filters through his mind. “Would you like to watch the movie now, or are you tired?”

"I think it's just the right thing to end our night, if you're still up for it." For you, although it might not technically be a date, this night has had all the hallmarks of a wonderful one. Drinks and dessert with good conversation, a little flirting, a lot of honesty, and a shared experience. Not all dates have to be fancy, after all.

Javi smiles and nods, giving your hand another squeeze as he stands and moves to help you out if your chair. “I love the movie room.” He admits, excited to share his favorite movie with you. “I know it is a movie for children, but it is just so…heartwarming.” He offers, not wanting to cloud your judgement on the movie too much before you experience it for yourself.

"The best children's movies have something for everyone." When he doesn't let go of your hand to lead you back inside, it's a thrill in a way that you didn't quite expect. "National Treasure is technically a family movie, but it's wonderful."

“It is so fun. And some of the facts from your Declaration were real.” Javi adds knowledgeably.

"It's my comfort movie," you admit, walking with him back through his suite to the eat wing's main hallway. "Both of them. When we one day make it to America, I'll take you to see the Declaration in person."

“That would be interesting.” Javi’s eyes light up happily and he motions towards another set of gilded doors. “This is the theatre room.” He explains. “There are not a lot of televisions in the palace, but this is my favorite one.”

The title theater room doesn't quite do the large auditorium justice. There are plush recliners and sofas to seat more than a dozen people inside, with a full-sized movie theater screen and all the accruements of snacks and drinks in clean-looking modern refrigerators and cabinets that extends even into a bar on one end. The other end is spectacular: a large, vintage style popcorn machine with all the necessary supplies in a cabinet underneath. "Oh my god," you gasp, eyes as big as saucers when you walk in. The plush red velvet and gold trim all around you reminds you of an old-fashioned movie theater in the very best way. "Of course it's your favourite. It's mine now too!"

“You like it?” Javi is delighted and points out the speakers. “Perfect Dolby surround sound and it sounds like you are in the movie!” He tells you excitedly. “The recliners have the massagers build in, and heated so it is cozy to curl up.”

He lights up from the inside when he gets excited, and for the first time since meeting him you wonder if a kiss would light him up like that as well. "You didn't tell me when I asked about popcorn that we could make our own right in here."

“Surprise.” He chuckles and moves over to the machine. “There is nothing like theatre butter popcorn.” He grins as he opens a cabinet below the machine and pulls out a jar of kernels. “And the butter? It isn’t really butter. But it’s liquid gold.”

"There's always room for popcorn, isn't there?" If you could always keep him smiling like this, you would do it forever. He positively shines. "With gold, of course."

“Always.” Javi appreciates how you are game for his silly treat. “It’s magic, like you have another stomach for popcorn.”

"I think I actually might. Maybe you do, too. We're medical marvels." Moving over to the refrigerators, you find bottles of soda brands both classic and local, water, and then a plethora of half bottles of all sorts of wine to go along with the liquors in the bar. "What would you like to drink?"

"I think—" He pauses for a moment and then nods. "I think water will be good. I have had a lot of alcohol and I would not want to misstep when tonight is going so well."

"Of course." Two bottles of San Pellegrino come out of the fridge when you decide to follow suit. Although you wouldn't blame him if the bubbly made him a little enthusiastic, you certainly don't want to make him think that you were pushing for something to happen faster than he was comfortable with.

“I don’t want to kiss you if you wouldn’t be open to it.” Javi blurts out, hissing when he realizes he hadn’t just been thinking but had spoken the words aloud.

Pressing your lips together to keep from giving yourself away with a grin, you put the two bottles of water down to look at him. "Would you prefer I pretended not to have heard that?" Never wanting to push, you're actually ecstatic that he's warming up to you as quickly as you are to him.

“Only if you are offended.” Javi huffs to himself mostly but he turns to gauge your reaction. He had told himself that he wouldn’t try to pressure you and here he is doing just that.

"Not at all." The worry on his face doesn't belong there, and you let the grin you were hiding unfurl across your face. "I would be very open to it as soon as you're ready, to be completely honest with you."

“Then you kiss me whenever you want.” Javi offers, the worry giving way to a small smirk.

It tightens in your chest, the way you want to spring forward and take him at his word right now, but hesitate. Your own fear of seeming too eager gnawing on your self-consciousness. "Perhaps it will happen organically," you tease instead.

Javi chuckles and the two of you continue to get ready for the movie. Before you know it, you are seated beside him in a recliner with a bucket of buttery popcorn between you as the movie starts. "If you cry, it's okay." He promises. "I cry too."

"I do cry at movies sometimes." He assurance seems almost conspiratorial, and you naturally lean in to him a little in the massive seat. "If we do, we'll cry together."

“Why do you think I have tissues ready?” Javi asks, motioning to the box on the other side of his chair. “It is coming.”

He is, of course, completely right. By the time Paddington is arrested you are sniffling beside him, smiling sheepishly as he hands you a tissue with a knowing nod.

"See?" Javi loves that you are emotional, wishing that he could hold your hand while you are wiping away your tears. "I love this movie."

"It's so sweet." Little by little, the more you have sat beside him, you have ended up leaning in to him until you are shoulder to shoulder. "I never disbelieved you." It's after you dab your eyes that your head leans against his shoulder, and the intimacy of the moment is that much sweeter.

It’s almost natural to lean his head against yours and he sighs softly. “It makes me want to be a better man.”

If that is the case, you might want all men forever to see this film and be inspired the same way, and you decide instantly that stuffed Paddington bears will be appropriate gifts for any children the two of you have together. You shiver slightly and Javi grabs the blanket that is on the other side of him. Wanting you to feel comfortable as the two of you continue to watch.

The longer you sit together the closer you get, until your heads are leaning neatly on each other with your hands tangled together again by the time the credits roll. Everything that was between you is forgotten or pushed aside and it's just two people together, feeling that rush of quiet excitement that comes from something new.

"I think that we can probably count this as a movie to watch together again?" Javi asks quietly, turning slightly to look at you despite your heads still touching.

"Absolutely." He's so close like this that you could kiss him with almost no effort, but you reach your free hand up to dab away the dampness on his cheek. "It's wonderful."

"Are you tired?" He whispers, still not ready to really give up time with you. He's just met you less than twelve hours ago but with as fast as everything is moving, he wants to spend every moment he can getting to know you. Really know you.

"Not if you aren't." You will happily swallow an occasional yawn to spend more time with him. Also, if he is a night owl then you want to make sure that you adjust to a schedule that he is comfortable with.

"There is a place I would like to show you." He whispers again. "You can see every star in the sky, hear the ocean waves crash against the cliffs."

"Okay." Almost before you can say it, you're nodding. "Show me. Anything. Everything." There's something magical building here that you can feel tingling all the way through your body. Something you want to see through to wherever it will go.

Flashing you a grin, Javi jumps up, reaching for your hands to drag you up out of your seat. "Come, we will take the Jeep." He tells you conspiratorially.

"We're driving?" It's unexpected, but your aching feet still in their heels will thank you for it.

"Yes." Javi's head bobbles quickly. "Up to my special spot. It would kill your feet if we hiked there."

"Well, alright." His energy and excitement are contagious, and you give him your other hand so easily. "Lead the way."

Javi sneaks you out of the palace, even though the two of you could walk out the door and no one would question either one of you. It just adds to the air of adventure as the two of you hustle out of the doors and down to the garage where his topless jeep is waiting.

"How far is it?" He says there is no adventure in his life and yet here he is whisking you away from the palace under the midnight moon to some secret location where you know in your heart you're going to have the world's most perfect first kiss with your literal Prince Charming in a Hallmark-style fantasy that is beyond even your wildest dreams. This is such a beautiful adventure to have together that you wonder if he has any idea how exciting it really is for you.

"Just a few miles away." He plans on taking you to that cliff. The one that he had shown you earlier. The one that he had jumped off of when he was younger. It was the best spot to stargaze around the palace and you can see every star in the sky. He wants to show it to you. Share it with you.

The drive is a chance to see more of the island, even at night and even as he drives quickly through the landscape, it's all breathtaking. Everywhere you look are beautiful plants and bright flowers, at one point there is even a grove of olive trees to the left of the road. The unbelievable trees thin out as you get closer to the coast, giving way to bushes and dustings of wild botanicals as opposed to the manicured gardens close to the palace. "Javi..." you breathe his name in awe when he stops the Jeep. "It's gorgeous..."

"We aren't even there yet." Javi jumps out of the doorless Jeep and grabs the blanket he had tossed in the back. "It's better up ahead." He holds his hand out for you as you climb out of the vehicle.

"How could it possibly be better?" Even through asking the question, you trust his judgement. It's just so much more beautiful than you had expected already. And to see him with so much happiness and that blanket in his hand while he holds his other out to you. "Lead the way," you tell him again, feeling another riot of butterflies erupt in your belly.

He grins, sending you a small wink before he turns to rush up the small hill with you. The adrenaline of the excitement thrumming through his system and making his heart pound in his chest. Hoping that you love the nighttime view as much as he does. The trees block the cliff face and he turns to watch your face the moment you break through the brush.

"Oh my..." It's literally breathtaking, this view that looks out into the Mediterranean Sea with the vastness of starry night surrounding you entirely. It's as if no one could reach you here and yet you can see everything and you cling to his hand as a soft breeze wafts over you from the south. "It's--" You're on the verge of tears, sniffling quietly when you finally tear your eyes away from the view to look at him. "It's magical."

Smiling, Javi stares into your eyes, feeling connected to you in ways that he will never understand but realizes this will be the moment where he knows that everything will be alright. He will be strong and resilient as long as you are by his side.

"Do you want to lay the blanket down?" You're both clinging to each other a little tighter than before, holding that gaze and swallowing with what you realize are honest to goodness nerves. After expecting this moment for twenty years, to finally be here is both terrifying and elating, but your heart has gotten involved. Like it or not – intended or not – you're much more scared to fuck this up than you want to admit.

"Right." Javi jolts, grinning sheepishly as he spreads the blanket out along the rocks. It won't do much to cushion the ground, but it would keep your pretty dress from getting dirty.

The moment makes you both giggle, not breaking the spell of the moment but maybe making it a little less serious. When he gets the blanket set he helps you settle down comfortably, and all at once you're leaning against each other again just like you were in the theater room in the palace – watching the sea this time instead of the film.

"There is so much to see out here." He whispers. "It's like...the world is all right here and endless at the same time."

"I can see why you thought mermen were within reach if you came out here as a boy." There is no reason to whisper. You're completely alone out here and no one could interrupt you if they wanted to. But it's as though the wind could hear you if you raise your voices too loudly, so you both instinctively whisper.

"They are out there." Javi hums. "In the whitecaps of the waves." He grins into the darkness. "Do you see them, Margarita?"

He's so playful. Whimsical and dreamy in a way you never could have expected, and it may be because of that that you look out over the waves and point to one cresting way away from the rocks near the edge of the island. "Right there," you hum, watching the foam dissolve as the wave washes out again. "He came to say good night to us."

"Or he came to say hello to his future queen." Javi offers, turning to watch you as you look out over the water as the waves relentlessly beats against the shore.

“Maybe he’s gone home again after having a look at us.” Your hand finds his on the blanket easily, fingers naturally threading together now like they belong always intertwined. “To tell his family that—” When You turn to look at him, his eyes are already on you, with adoration painted in their depths. It mirrors your own expression so strikingly. “That the prince has a bride-to-be who already adores him.”

"I do?" Javi barely whispers the question, almost fearful of the answer. Also eager to have you tell him again. To feel the burst of pleasure in his chest that seems to completely encompass him.

“Oh, yes. And it happened so very organically.” It takes everything you have to nod solemnly as you lean in a little, wanting him to meet you halfway. To take this step together. “I never…” The breath you take is shaky, wondering if being honest with him right now is too much too soon. But if you can’t be honest with him, who can you be? “I never thought it would be so easy to let myself begin falling in love with you.”

There’s a chance that you are flattering him. That you are telling him what you think he wants to hear. However, he doesn’t believe you can look at him like that and not mean it. The stars are literally shining in your eyes and Javi’s breath catches. Reaching out and stroking your cheek with the back of his knuckles before he cups your head as he leans in. “Then it makes our first kiss under the moon and stars very organic, mi Margarita.”

He doesn’t shrink from it, or startle, or accuse you of embellishing like so many others would. He meets you softly, finding that your lips mold to each other as easily and naturally as your fingers twine together. You hum softly when he presses into your space and moves his hand to the back of your neck, encouraging you to come closer. Right now he could encourage you right over the edge of that cliff like a siren and you would go with him willingly – all for the taste of his kiss.

Javi sighs, pouring himself into the rather innocent, yet completely consuming kiss. Unable to believe that he is very willingly kissing a woman he had been furious was coming even a day ago. Yet now he doesn’t want to stop kissing you. He doesn’t need to breathe, he just needs to kiss you.

Your own hand finds the curls at the nape of his neck, deepening the kiss but not pushing past any boundaries yet. It’s the most remarkable feeling – attraction seeing your body alight like stardust but the moment staying fairly innocent regardless. It’s not until you both find you need to breathe that you part, but it doesn’t seem destined to last for long.

It lingers, until Javi pulls back so slowly that it takes forever for his lips to separate from yours and his eyes open with a flutter to watch you. “That was…perfect”

“Better than a movie.” The breath that finally catches in your lungs is heavy, keeping you anchored to him securely.

Even though you are still looking up at him with stars in your eyes, you can’t quite smother a yawn. Making Javi smile. “Do you want to lay down?” He asks softly. “Stargaze for a minute before I tuck you in?”

“I am afraid of falling asleep on you,” you admit, though you don’t stop him from leading you down to laying on the blanket.

“I’ll make sure you get to bed.” He promises, knowing he should take you back, but there are always shooting stars and he wants you to see one.

“Lay with me.” The space beside you is empty but for wanting him to fill it, and you pat it with one hand.

With the invitation, Javi lays beside you and nudges closer, looking up at the sky. “Majestic, isn’t it?” He asks softly.

“It’s stunning.” You stand by your description of the place as magical, as the stars seem to dance above you.

Javi hums, watching the sky while he tries to look at you from the corner of his eye. Finding you even more stunning.

“What are you thinking?” It’s an intimate question, but the moment is intimate, and you find yourself curious as to what he could be thinking of so calmly when your mind and heart are rioting for you to kiss him again.

"This is a perfect moment." Javi whispers quietly, turning so he looks at you fully. "There are so few of them in this life, but this one, with you, is one of them." He swallows and licks his lips. "You are even more beautiful than the view above us."

“Tonight has been amazing.” Turning to face him, you’re nearly curled into his side. “I know that…that it’s not big or flashy or anything like that. But dessert on your balcony, the movie, and this?” When you smile it splits your face in half. “It’s the perfect first date.”

"Hmmmm, our first date happened before I could plan it." Javi's arm wraps around you easily, his hand spread across your back. "Does that mean our next one should be flashy?" He asks teasingly.

"It should be whatever you would like." With your head on his shoulder and his arm around your waist, you're more comfortable than you have been in ages. "Public or private. Flashy or humble. I don't care as long as you're there."

Javi thinks about it for a long minute. Holding you as his head turns back towards the sky. Wanting to make it something good for you, something special.

The quiet lingers between you, comfortable and warm, until he hears your breathing even out on the blanket beside him. Sleep has always come easily to you when you felt safe, and somehow you just know – instinctively – that Javi would never let anything happen to you.

______

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My Masterlist!

[anxious-lee]

A Sudden Diversion - A Lackadaisy Tickle Fic

Lee: Freckle

Lers: Ivy and Rocky

----

Evidently, plowing an automobile through several thickets and insisting it is a "short-cut" is dangerous.

This may have been a revelation to Rocky, but Freckle could have told him that from the beginning. In fact, he tried.

Yet, here they were: in the Lackadaisy's cluttered garage, mending the battering inflicted on their poor vehicle. The car was nicked and scratched from the shrubbery, not unlike its occupants. The engine compartment would have been just fine had the frenzied tom Rocky not rammed it into a tree's trunk. All in all, the damages were unnecessary and very expensive. To say that Miss Mitzi was peeved at the three stooges would be an understatement. Due to the speakeasy's lack of adequate funds, the car's repairs would need to be done by Rocky, Ivy, and Freckle, as reparations for ruining the car in the first place. Freckle supposed that being placed on mechanic duty wasn't the worst punishment Miss Mitzi could have dealt. Although, if anyone should have to be saddled with this chore, it should be Rocky. He's the one who made the mess in the first place.

But, perhaps it was for the best. It was safer in the garage than it was out there on the liquor-lined battlefield.

All three colleagues sat, working away silently. Or rather, almost silently, as Rocky could only take the deafening quiet for so long before he broke out into a hum. Some tune that neither Freckle nor Ives recognized. The musician himself was made useful by patching up the old paint job, while the two lovers dug through their toolbox, looking for the appropriate equipment to repair the engine.

Freckle had seen plenty of danger in his lifetime with his cousin. Hell, toughing through peril was practically his best trait as an officer in training. But each adventure wore down a little bit more of his psyche. And some nights, like tonight, there was nothing left to wear.

He was exhausted, both from the team's little excursion and the mental power it took not to have a panic attack.

Ivy, who sat at his right, learned over time to recognize these feelings through observation. Because odds were, Freckle wouldn't say it directly. She could pretty much discern and dissect every Freckle frown.

She was gonna make him smile.

She began with a little smirk of her own.

"Car maintenance isn't the peachiest job in the world, but at least we get some quality time together," Ivy said, batting her eyelids.

Brought out of his daze by the sudden sound of her voice, Freckle glanced up at Ivy quickly. He couldn't help but smile sheepishly at her flirtatious remarks.

But Ivy wasn't going to stop there.

"Y'know, I hardly ever get to witness you in your element. Tinkering away with your gadgets, and gizmos, and... whosiwhatsits, " she finished with a flippant backhand toward the toolbox.

Freckle seemed bashful to turn bashful at that.

"Oh. I'm no professional. My mum taught me everything I know, and when it became just me and her in that house, I had to step in and help with the maintenance. If I'm being honest, I'm more familiar with the back-end of a kitchen sink than I am with motor vehicle repair," he cringed.

"Relentlessly humble, as always," Rocky piped in suddenly, "Ol' Freckle Face never could take a compliment, however deserved or warranted."

"Yeah! C'mon McMurray, you're doing most of the heavy lifting here! Little did Miss M. know that when she hired a gunman, she also hired a handyman," said Ivy.

The extra attention was getting to Freckle, so much so that he hadn't noticed when his cheeks began to burn hot.

"It's really not a big deal-"

"I'll say it is, and no take-backsies!" Ivy declared. For emphasis, she burrowed a single claw into his armpit.

Freckle tittered softly and tilted his body away from his attacker.

"Kheehehe, quit it," he near-whispered.

"What will you do if I dont?" Ivy dared playfully.

What to answer with, Freckle hadn't the faintest. His upturned mouth opened and shut a few times, hoping that the perfect reasoning would spring from his lips at any moment. Finally, he spoke.

"We're not gohonna finish our wohork," he retorted lamely.

"Oh yeah? Is that what it is you're scared of? The job?" purred Ivy. She once again buried her pointer claw into the crook of his underarm. It took some more digging than the first time due to Freckle's attempts to keep his arm flat against his side. When she settled into her target, she scritched everywhere she could reach.

"Yehes!" Freckle said, much louder and desperate than he intended. He was squirming a little more now, bent in a seventy-degree angle, but still holding down his position. The first giggle, he couldn't control. The second, third, and fourth, however, he was determined to swallow down. His lips pressed into a wobbly smile, hoping that if he didn't laugh, she wouldn't continue.

That only made her tickle harder.

"You trying to hold it in? Good luck, 'cause my little brothers tried the same trick, and it did not last long," warned Ivy.

And it was true. Before long, his firmly shut lips did nothing to prevent his giggles from escaping. They sounded more like pleaful whimpers.

It wasn't that Freckle hated her little games, but succumbing to something so childish as tickling was easier said than done. Not to mention the fact that they were in public, where any one of the speakeasy's employees could walk in on them.

Within a matter of seconds, Ivy brought both claws into both armpits and was tickling away.

Freckle gave a laugh of surprise, a notch louder than before. He knew there was no fighting her now. The tingly electricity on both sides of his body overtook him, and he slid to the floor, with his back pressed against it. Ivy followed, now hooked by his incredible laughter.

"You crazy kids ought to keep your hands off of each other. Otherwise, people might get the idea that you two are les amoureux," Rocky called from his place at the car, voice shining with sarcasm. He was watching them now and smirking unsympathetically at his troubled cousin.

"We are les amoureux, Rocky," Ivy called back.

For some reason, Ivy holding a conversation with Rocky while Freckle was underneath her laughing pitifully was making the sensation worse. As his face burned brighter, Freckle turned his head away from her in an attempt to save himself the embarrassment of having her look upon his cheesy face.

"Awh~! Poor boy is embarrassed!" Ivy cooed, taking one hand away from his arm and cupping his cheek with it, pulling his face back to her.

"You are practically burning up!" she gasped, "Are you blushing~?"

The saints above could not help poor Freckle now.

He didn't grace that question with an answer and instead whined through his laughter. This could not get more humiliating.

"I missed that big smile! And that laugh. I love it when you laugh. It's so cute!" the feisty woman squealed.

"Nohoho, it's nohohot!" Freckle squealed louder. His paws, which had been tucked in like T-Rex arms to his chest, were now covering everywhere on his face he could reach.

"It's a shame that me admiring you flusters you so terribly, because I'm not going to stop any time soon. You're all mine to adore, Calvin McMurray~"

Holy hell.

The teasing's subject cried out in ticklish agony and released a new wave of laughter.

"This would be easier if- you know- I'll think I'll just- there we go!" Ivy maneuvered herself to sit behind Freckle's head while she pinned his hands under her knees. Now he was on full display, with no hope of saving his dignity.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle~" she teased as both hands came back down to lightly skitter over and across his belly. Freckle laughed uproariously, unable to hold anything back, his pure-hearted cackle ringing out throughout the garage.

It was almost more than he could bear.

Almost.

"DOHOHONT SAHAY THAT!"

"Why not?"

"IT MAHAKES IT WOHORSE!"

"Ah, good tip! Definitely will be making use out of this. Kitchee kitchee kitchee kitchee coo~!"

Ivy moved her paws towards his hips, squeezing them faster than was merciful.

Freckle's laugh deepened in pitch immediately, sounding more like a maniacal cackle.

"Pretty good targets, Miss Pepper, but you're neglecting some key players in this game of torture!" said Rocky.

"It's not torture! He's fine! Aren't you, sweetie?"

Freckle almost said no, but he was too busy laughing. Laughing from an attack he let happen. If he really detested it, he could have ended this from the beginning, and he knew that. But there was no real danger here. Not with Ivy. Not with Rocky, either. He knew they would never hurt him.

Nevertheless, when one is being pinned down and tickled stupid, the only thought your mind will allow is 'STOP'.

Rocky strode over to Ivy's side and looked down at his cousin.

"Me and Freckle used to get into many a battle such as these when we were little tykes. I triumphed them all, naturally, and I still remember his spots," the tomcat gave Ivy a wink and planted himself on Freckle's legs. "You go for the neck, I'll go for the knees."

"ROHOCKY!!" cried Freckle, betrayed.

"Ooo! Those are good ones!" cheered Ivy.

"ISN'T AHANYONE GOING TO WOHORK ON THE CAHAHAR?!"

"No", they both replied.

They began their double team attack on Freckle's tickle spots. Ivy went to work fluttering in every crevice of his neck, while Rocky rubbed and squeezed his kneecaps, occasionally giving a swift scribble to the undersides.

Freckle couldn't believe how absurd this scenario was. Here he was, now shrieking and giggling shrilly like a small child, while his two closest teammates were tickling him to pieces. He didn't bother to question it any more, simply surrendering to his silly fate and taking the opportunity to let everything go. He had been harboring so much guilt and anxiety over the past few days. Over the past few weeks even. What better time to abandon all sensible thought, what better time to look away from his reality of crime and war, what better time to simply be with his friends, safe and at peace, then now?

But he still needed to breathe, so Ivy let up and released his hands from her hold. Rocky dismounted from his legs and backed away cheerily to give the man some space.

Freckle immediately wrapped his arms around his waist and tucked his legs into himself, tail swishing wildly as he let out his remaining chuckles. As he caught his breath, he looked up at Ivy.

Ivy's expression was kind. "You feeling ok?"

Freckle couldn't stop grinning, and it wasn't from the tickles.

"Y-yeah," he sighed in relief.

"Yes, good man, laughing yourself up a storm, now come on, let's take a break from the car and head to the bar downstairs!" said Rocky.

"You mean after the break we just took from our work?" Ivy smirked.

"I don't know about you two, but all this horseplay has worked up my thirst. Whadd'ya say, Baby Face? Want to grab a beer?" Rocky reached a hand down to help him up.

Freckle was repulsed by the idea of drinking alcohol himself, but Rocky knew that as well, using it as a conversational turn of phrase.

The orange cat softened in agreement.

"Sure."

Rock wasted no time in trotting out the door, hungry for an ice cold scotch.

The two stragglers, now alone, slowly followed behind. As they walked, Ivy stretched an experimental pinkie out to Freckle's. He wasted no time in linking his paw with hers and pulling her to his side.

Not the worst of punishments, indeed.

-------

You know what, I eventually got hungry enough for lackadaisy fic that I wrote one myself. I haven't completed a fic in well over a year, but this franchise is beyond inspiring enough to birth this fic ❤️

@veryblushyswitch @someone1348 @kasey-writes-stuff @ticklyfluffstuff

[cordeliawhohung]

core i loveee your bodyguard!gaz <3

oh and imagine him having to subtly compete for your attention if another bodyguard is assigned to you, or subtly sabotaging them so he can look after you instead !!

or bodyguard!gaz who has to keep you safe, and company, stuck in a secluded building while it rains or snows and ugh he’s just so infatuated with you :(

also lol, anytime you write bg!gaz like that <-, i always read it as babygirl!gaz and i mean yeah it works

lots of luv and happy writing <3

FERN YOU'RE A GENIUS I LOVE YOU

i deadass think you came up with the next drabble bit for me with that competing against another bodyguard thing. kyle is NOT a jealous man, unless... (unless someone hires someone from that bastard grave's shadow company to help "look out for you"...)

also I LOVE FORCED PROXIMITY!!!! imagine you're trying to go out in nature and enjoy things without having to worry about paparazzi and whatnot, and of COURSE you bring gaz with you. he was in the military! he traversed some of the most rough terrain known to man, so he can certainly help you on your adventure!!

imagine you're in the mountains climbing across a rocky trail. between thick bramble and jutting roots, he's always offering you his hand to help you either up or down the path so you don't trip and fall ): totally just looking out for you, not at all an excuse to hold your hand or anything.... but oh no... rain? shit that just wont do at all!! luckily he's always prepared and he brought a tarp that he ties up between a few trees to provide some cover. you two huddle close together in order to fit underneath, but when he feels you start to shiver from the moisture in the air and the bitter wind you better bet that he's pulling you into his side. just to keep you warm, of course, he's not at all thinking about how sweet you smell, or how perfect you fit against him as you lean further into him... it's just his job.

and he talks to you the entire time it's raining, just to keep your mind off of things when the thunder rumbles so loud you're certain the ground will split underneath you. he talks about anything, but mostly tries to make you laugh because fuck he can't get enough of the sound of it. when the rain finally lets up, and the two of you are headed back for the day, he insists on holding your hand the entire time. watch your step, love, the mud is slick. better hold onto him just in case you slip and fall. and oh, when you do fall? when that patch of grass wasn't as firm as you thought it was and you end up with your hands gripping his shoulders and his gently holding your waist? when he asks you if you're alright in that suave, soft tone...? i'm a whore

ANYWAY i absolutely love that everyone reads it as babygirl gaz because it's so fitting and it's the reason i keep writing it like that honestly and NO ONE can stop me. but AHHH thank you so much for helping with this i'm??? do you mind if i tag you when i write it ask thanks for the brainrot??? normally i'd put it as a response to this but that proximity one had my brain REELING and i just needed to get something out for it a;lksdf

but i hope you have a wonderful day!!! you deserve the best <3

[buck-yyyy]

BYLER FIC RECS BAYBEE!!

okay, im gonna do my best to include some that don’t have huge numbers to mix it up and give the authors the attention they deserve, but i only have so much time because i promised myself i would go to sleep at a normal time, so this will have to be brief :(

hey, mike? - 2,324 words, complete

okay, yeah, i had to do some self promotion, and for that i apologize T-T but have will and mike having a conversation on top of a rock in the middle of nowhere nevada mid volume one- also, this was not only originally written before V2, it’s also the thing that got me into writing. so. anyways self promo over into the other stuff now

like you already know (that you’re the love of my life) - 3,227 words, complete

truth or truth type thing!! mike asking will if he’s ever been in love, essentially a sweet lil coming out concession thing. really loved this one <33

if only we could meet again - 21,251 words, complete

in which mike and will lose touch but meet again midway through college. i’m such a sucker for college aus, and this one is SO underrated- the plot twist at the end, the parallels, the references? it’s all SO good

i’m thankful for my sister (even if sometimes we fight) - 18,047 words, complete

to those of you longing for mike and nancy to have a better sibling relationship, i present to you this fic. mike confiding in nancy and asking her for advice <3

you spin me right round - 2,624 words, complete

spin the bottle. says it all. mwah <3

sounds pretty gay - 15,699 words, complete

“no, mike, not all boys think that other boys are pretty” -dustin and lucas in this fic. mike is only oblivious when it comes to homosexuality and will and it’s for that reason that i love him

dustin henderson, the scientific method, and homosexuality - 3,252 words, complete

this one is SO beyond underrated and i DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW?? it’s told from dustin’s point of view, as he starts to realize that hey. maybe they’re like. Not Straight.

a quick warning before we proceed! as i scroll further back through my bookmarks, we come to a point where these fics were written before volume two and therefore may be slightly canon divergent. this next fic is about when that begins. but! i loved them before volume two, and i still love them now, and will therefore be including them in the list. keep an open mind <3

cartwheel heart - 14,638 words, complete

will gets vecna’d truthers, rise up! she’s angsty but my god is she good

in my room - 7,947 words, complete

in which mike and will just- talk. because god knows all they need is a genuine, truthful conversation, and all their problems would be solved.

P.S. i love you - 13,083 words, incomplete

of course mike wrote will letters, he just didn’t send them!

karen did though lmao

rocky roads with uncertain ends - 2,893 words, complete

anyways, volume one will deserved to be a little angry. thank you to this beloved author for letting that happen.

a very murray mistletoe - 4,827 words, complete

alright, this is probably the fic with the most hits on this entire list. it’s also my absolute favorite, and the FIRST fic i ever bookmarked when i got my ao3 account. @/andiwriteordie, you are incredible and i love your writing. anyways. for those do you who want a murrayed byler- READ THIS ONE!!

[ohblackdiamond]

various influences on my silly fanfics

gnosticism is probably the ultimate drive of most of my fics. you know, besides the need to write a bunch of smut.

tennessee williams --particularly "cat on a hot tin roof" as the perma-adolescence and perma-self-pitying brick has consigned himself to parallels that of aging rockstars pretty accurately. williams' reliance on implication rather than statement, motivated though it was by the times, is also something i've pulled from.

mr. skeffington --end scene was a pivotal inspiration for "back to the garden." "mr. skeffington has come home."

whatever happened to baby jane? --next to last scene, particularly for my paul/peter stuff. ~*~you mean, all this time, we could've been friends?~*~

utena --the black rose saga and apocalypse arc in particular. in the black rose saga, the duelists end up in what amounts to an inverted/twisted therapy session/confessional where they reveal their true motivations. shiori's was a big influence on "little t&a" ("what i did with him made me feel even more pathetic than before" and the "it's no use, it's just no use") and various other fics to one degree or another. juri's constant holding of shiori at arm's length, while shiori tries any means at all to get back at her/force juri's attention on her, is pretty intriguing. the entire utena series is a mess but it's fascinating, with its theme of cyclical hurt.

evangelion --hurt people hurt people, news at 5. this series is still dear to me (and was once very dear to my wallet), and i hold a peculiar fondness for the maligned rebuild movie series, as in it (not the largest theme of the series), asuka and shinji effectively move past each other; asuka ostensibly "grows up," but can't let go. the eventual bridging of the gaps between them was influential.

solaris --more on how our limited, surface understanding of even the people most important to us has a pretty grave impact, all on a weird sci-fi backdrop. i'm not giving this one the introspective review it deserves, but it's more than worth the watch.

la strada --anthony quinn doing the same carnival stunt over and over.

requiem for a heavyweight --way past his prime, physically destroyed boxer tries to make a life for himself outside of the ring, and finds out he can't.

rocky --underdog ends up with a shot at the title. ends up with four million sequels, franchised, overbulked, and overproduced. and he keeps going. and he keeps going! and he keeps going! does this remind you of anything? because it should.

performance --i have discussed this one at length but the down-but-not-yet-out rockstar has pretty obvious parallels to kiss.

spinal tap --oh, come on. this scene is a kiss reference.

[elvisabutler]

and lord she found me just in time

summary: after the rocky beginning to your relationship with professor elvis presley your life together settles into one of considerable domesticity. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: g? a very low t at worst. pairing: professor! elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x student! female reader word count: 1140 warnings: big daddy elvis. elvis using a walking stick/cane. student and professor relationship ( everyone is of legal age ). use of the nickname belle for the reader. brief hints at period typical misogyny in academic settings. brief mentions of nepotism- in a way- in academic settings. twin children. brief mention of priscilla and lisa. this is really fluffy so i don't need any of these warnings i think but i'm giving y'all them anyway. author's note: i did promise this was going to be pure happiness and i like to think i delivered. honestly after what i put the reader and elvis through truly they deserved only happiness in this. as i said before definitely won't be the last time i write for them if i have a desire to/request to and i'll answer asks/headcanons/etc for them all the livelong day. y'all know the drill, pick your elvis poison, this is written with real elvis in mind but you can imagine austin elvis.previous parts are here to be read in order: 1 and 2 and 3.

"Da." A tiny voice interrupts Elvis's own mid-sentence during his lecture followed by a familiar feminine voice shushing the young one with a giggle. The tiny voice pretends it heard absolutely no part of their mother's shushing and speaks again. "Da." Another tiny voice follows with a noise that sounds like the letter e.

There's a murmur amongst the students as those who can't see where the offending noise is coming from wonder if Professor Presley is going to say something while those who are sitting close enough are fighting back laughter as they watch PRofessor Presley's eighteen month old twins opening their mouths each time Elvis even tries to open his own to speak. After about a minute the boy finally holds out his arms as he tries to wiggle out of your grasp. "Da. Up-ee."

Up at the podium Elvis shakes his head and rolls his eyes before moving to take your son from your grasp with a grin equal parts fond and put upon. This is a song and dance he's gotten used to by now any time you bring the twins with you to sit in on his class.

"Ya happy yittle Wes? Got daddy's and everyone's attention." He coos a little ignoring the class for just a moment. "And ya get to be front 'n center."

Your son giggles happily as he sits on the top of the podium and busies himself with playing with a piece of paper and crayon that your husband pulls from his pants pocket. How it got there is anyone's guess.

The students know better than to get too distracted by Wes and focus on what Elvis is saying with the sort of rapt attention only Elvis can command of a room full of students. It's not for the occasional lack of trying on Wes's part, however, with his occasional whine at Elvis when he starts to move away from the podium. For his part Elvis answers the whine with a look over his classes and Wes each time purses his lips together to be quiet and goes back to the paper.

You are having a much easier and far more relaxed time with Wendy as you're both a bit tired. Her because it's starting to inch toward nap time and unlike most babies she welcomes the sweet embrace of sleep. A fact you are decidedly thankful for, knowing that you have every plan of falling asleep once Elvis's class is over and he's taking the three of you home. At the end of class right as Elvis is finishing his lecture you hear Wes start to get more fussy in a way that reminds you it truly is nap time for everyone.

"A'right, class dismissed, gotta get everyone t'bed. 'fore I bore them anymore wit' my voice." He quips nothing your drooping eyes that mirror your daughter's. Picking up Wes and setting him on the floor where he can start to toddle to you is easy enough. Thankfully the few students still left in the room know to give Elvis's son a wide berth and those who don't always find themselves on the receiving end of his cane blocking their path as he taps their kneecaps lightly saying things about "yittle man walkin'."

When Westley finally reaches you and Wendy he gives his sister a hug before clinging to your leg knowing it's the best hug he'll manage right this moment.

Elvis pulls you in for a kiss as he picks up Wendy who readily puts her head on his shoulder, snuggling in as best she can. When he looks at you he sighs. "Last night catchin' up to ya? Told ya t'do the-"

"Don't lecture me, Elvis. I knew I'd regret it but I didn't realize how much. Just want to go home and take a nap before dinner." As if to belabor the point, the last few words of your response to him are swallowed by a gaping yawn.

"Yes, ma'am, Belle. Let's get you and our yittle prince and princess t'bed." Elvis hums shifting his stance just a enough to not jostle Wendy has he starts to walk, his cane making it's normal tap against the floor.

"I can take-" You start to say, shifting Wes to allow yourself to balance both children in your arms only to be shushed quietly.

"I got 'er. You busy yourself wit' the troublemaker."

You roll your eyes with a scrunch of your nose making sure you have everything as you and Elvis walk and then enter the car, talking about how you had plans to invite Priscilla and Lisa for Thanksgiving and how for practice Elvis planned for you to cover for his class next week while he went to an appointment you didn't have to join him on.

"Routine check up. Jerry and George both agreed to watch the twins if they can. And they'll be each other's back up. I jus' wanna make sure ya ready. Ya know how the big-"

The sigh you give him from the passenger side of the Cadillac is so aggravated that he has to turn to look at you at a stop light and frown at your face before you speak.

"I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it, especially with what we both know about some of them." You give him a pointed look at you try and keep the annoyance out of your tone but Elvis can hear it plain as day. His hand moves to your thigh, giving it a squeeze.

"All the more reason for ya t'show off." He says as he turns into the gates of Graceland. You let out a soft hmph in reply as he parks the car.

The twins are barely clinging to consciousness and snuggle into both yours and Elvis's shoulders with soft whines at the sunlight. It takes just a few minutes once you're inside to settle them in their cribs and once you do you prepare to lay down by yourself only to realize that Elvis is undressing as well.

"Mr. Presley, are you planning on sleeping with me? What would your wife think?" You tease as you climb under the covers.

"Well, Mrs. Presley, I have it on good authority that she won't mind. Somethin' 'bout missin' the cuddly teddy bear chest cuddles." His laugh at the last words he says are music to your ears as he settles in behind you. His arms wrap around your middle tightly and the the warmth of his body combined with the warmth of his hands on your stomach lull you into the land of dreams so quickly you don't quite catch Elvis murmuring a question against the shell of your ear. Or perhaps it was a statement.

"Wanna try for 'nother one after ya all settled wit' ya own class."

taglist:  @elvisgirl35, @butlersluvbot, @lokis-right-femur, @godlypresleyy, @steph-speaks, @lindszeppelin, @eliseinmemphis, @thatbanditqueenn, @venus-haze, @lrd98, @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @notstefaniepresley, @holyastronauts, @vintageshanny, @powerofelvis, @ellie-24, @softsatnin, @precious-little-scoundrel, @pennyroyalcreep, @heartbrake-hotel and @meds4beatlemania and i think that's it?

[musical-shit-show]

pieces fall right into place

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader

Inspiration: Prompts #6 (you ramble a lot. it’s adorable) and #71 (i’m gonna make you forget that asshole) from Prompt List 2

Warnings: cursing, infidelity, fluff, kissing, smut (minors dni!!!), oral sex (female receiving), Dewey is, uh, handsy

Word Count: 2,597

Author’s Note: Okay…first time writing and posting smut. This is very new to me, so apologies if it’s rushed. I’m hoping that with practice and feedback I’ll improve as time goes on, but I worked on this for a while so I didn’t want to sit on it any longer. I already put it in my warnings, but this one shot is NSFW and 18+, so if you’re a minor, please keep scrolling for this one. I’ll also be marking this as smut on my Masterlist. As always, check out my About Me page, and my Prompt Lists to submit an ask! I’ll also take other prompts (within reason) and am always down to answer questions/receive feedback! (Just please be kind I am sensitive). Thanks so much for the support and happy reading <3

“You can’t let him keep doing this to you.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“Please don’t make me spell it out for you. You have got to be smarter than that.”

“Dew, I don’t—”

“He always stands you up and I know how long it takes your ass to get ready. At this point, it’s getting pathetic.”

You scoffed at your best friend’s harshness. Dewey Finn was rarely one to mince words, but ever since you hit a rocky patch in your relationship, he was all too eager to bash your boyfriend. And it was starting to get on your nerves.

“It’s not pathetic!” you raised your voice in defense, “I…he’s busy. School is really kicking his ass right now and he’s having a hard time with his clinicals—”

“I know,” he conceded, eyeing you. You were wearing a simple black dress, ready for a date that was currently in jeopardy, “I know, I just think that you shouldn’t get your hopes up with him, especially since he never answers your texts. He’s always late, and that’s coming from me.”

You opened your mouth to fire back, but you saw your phone light up. It was Graham.

“It’s him,” you said, unable to hide your smugness to Dewey, “He’s on his way to the restaurant.”

Your roommate sighed. The two of you had met years ago at a record shop, both scouring through the classic rock section. It was the perfect meet-cute; unfortunately for Dewey, you were newly taken. Still, you hit it off, and a few months later found yourselves sharing an apartment.

This oddly didn’t seem to bother Graham; he must not have thought of Dewey as a threat. Either that or he couldn’t have cared less about what you did when he wasn’t around.

Not that Dewey was complaining. He loved hanging out with you, he really did. You were his best friend. But every so often you’d let your gaze linger a little too long, or laugh a little too hard at one of his jokes, and suddenly his stomach would be doing backflips.

It didn’t matter anyways; you had a boyfriend and Dewey just had to accept that. Even if your boyfriend barely paid attention to you and constantly blew you off. It angered him to no end, because he knew you deserved better. But Graham was going to be a doctor, and was nice enough to you that you stuck around.

He offered stability. That was something Dewey couldn’t guarantee, not in the same way. And that feeling of inadequacy had slowly invaded his entire psyche to the point where the mere mention of your boyfriend was unbearable.

Not that he’d ever let you know how he really felt, of course. It was always safer to play the protective best friend role, and Dewey was a natural.

“Dew!” his train of thought was interrupted by you staring expectantly at him, “How do I look?” You were standing by the door, your eyes glittering. Dewey could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He swallowed, “You look…beautiful. As always,” you grinned sweetly at him, feeling your chest flutter in return. Despite his apprehension, Dewey always knew how to put a smile on your face.

“Thank you,” you replied, smoothing down your hair, “I’ll let you know if I’ll be back later, okay?” Dewey nodded, turning his attention back to the TV as some mindless reality show served as background noise.

“Oh, and before I forget,” you said, half of your frame already in the hallway, “Could you help me out with my car sometime this weekend? It’s making that weird sound again.”

Dewey put on his best ‘best friend’ smile, “‘Course,” he said, “All the ladies say I’m great with my hands, after all.” You laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

After you shut the door, his spirits instantly drooped. Maybe he could put on a movie to distract himself, or maybe he could practice a few riffs that were giving him trouble.

Maybe that would deflect his attention away from the thought of you going home with him, undressing for him, moaning his name.

It was going to be a long night.

*****

Dewey somehow dozed off on the couch, only to be awoken by the sound of your front door slamming shut.

“Shit!” he yelped out of fright, jumping from his horizontal position. You were standing in front of him, your eyes bloodshot as mascara streaked down your face.

You had been crying. Hard.

“He cheated on me,” you said, your voice low and scratchy, “He took me out to a nice restaurant for the first time in months to tell me that he fucking cheated on me.”

Dewey instantly felt his temperature rise. He was nowhere close to a fighter, but in that moment, he could’ve knocked out that douche bag with one swing.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you kept going, “You were right, Dew,” you cried, falling to his side, “I can’t believe how stupid I was. It was with his fucking classmate, too. He talked about her all the time: tall, blonde, doctor in training…how could I be so fucking oblivious?!”

You started crying again, this time into Dewey’s shoulder. He held you as your tears stained his gray t-shirt, your body wracked with sobs. Your perfume still smelled fresh, the familiar scent pervading Dewey’s mind in a way that was inappropriate for the situation at hand.

After a few minutes, your pitiable weeping let up. “Please say something,” you sniffed as you looked at him worriedly, “And don’t let it be ‘I told you so.’” He couldn’t help but shoot you a wry smile. You smiled softly back, despite your eyes still being filled to the brim.

“Damn, you know me too well, don’t ya?” he snarked, “Because that’s exactly what I was gonna say.” You punched him lightly in the shoulder as he let out a mock yelp of pain. “But no, I just…I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this, any of this.”

You couldn’t help but shake your head. “Dewey, I—”

“No, I mean it,” he cut you off, “You’re…you’re amazing. And smart, and funny, and kind. Graham is an idiot for ever taking you for granted. You can do so much better than that, and I know someday you—”

“You know,” now it was time for you to cut him off, “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this before, but you ramble a lot. It’s adorable.” Even in the low light of your apartment, you see Dewey’s face go flush.

“I just…I just really care about you, okay?” he said quietly, taking your hand gently in his, “And…you’re one of a kind. Anyone who doesn’t see that isn���t worth crying over.” His gaze softened for the first time since you stepped through the door. It pained him to see you wounded like this.

Maybe it was your heightened emotional state. Maybe it was Dewey’s comforting words. Or maybe it was the way he was looking at you in that moment. The way he looked at you most days, when he thought you didn’t notice.

But for whatever reason, you decided to kiss Dewey Finn.

You pressed your lips to his, feeling the warmth of his mouth as your eyes fluttered shut. He tasted like cheap beer and salt, and you could smell the body wash he’d been using for years, simple and fresh. Your tongue quickly parted his lips, but before you could press any further, he pulled away from you.

“Wait, wait,” he said, his voice faltering, “I don’t—is this what you want? Because I…well, I’ve wanted this for a while.”

“A while?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow, “How long is a while?”

Dewey exhaled heavily. This was it. “Since the first day we met,” he muttered sheepishly, “But you had Graham, and we became friends anyway so, I just sort of accepted that we’d never…”

Silence hung in the air as you stared intently at him. “Ah shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything, and the last thing I want to take advantage because, well, you’re my best friend and—”

“Dew,” you breathed, “You’re doing that rambling thing again.” You wrapped your arms around him, tangling your fingers into the messy brown waves at the base of his neck. “And for the record, you’re not taking advantage. I want this. As long as you want it too.”

You saw a devilish glint flicker in his chestnut eyes. “Oh, I do,” he said with a smirk. Without any more hesitation, his lips slammed into yours. You were taken off guard by his abruptness, but it didn’t matter. He was kissing you hungrily, nipping at your bottom lip.

An involuntary moan left your throat. You never felt this kind of spark with Graham, not by a long shot. With Dewey, it was something entirely different. Something better.

You let out a small squeal as Dewey hoisted you up, still peppering kissing on your neck and collarbone as he carried you to his room. Sometimes you forgot how strong he was; you were sure you wouldn’t forget again.

“Dewey, that tickles!” you said coyly, a warmth in the pit of your stomach growing. He stopped his assault on your clavicle and eyed you hungrily, catching your lips again between his.

He was intoxicating. A drug that you didn’t know you needed, but now you couldn’t go more than a few seconds without a hit. You wanted more. You needed more.

He broke the kiss again, his eyes half-lidded as he placed you on the bed. You skillfully unzipped the back of your dress and pealed it from your body. Dewey felt a twinge of self-consciousness.

“It’s okay,” you said, clocking the anxious look that fell across his face, “I’m nervous too.”

“You have no reason to be,” he laughed, “You are so goddamn sexy.” You felt heat creeping up your neck. Dewey never had trouble complimenting you, but now it felt new. You didn’t have to suppress the butterflies in your stomach any longer.

Grabbing the front of his t-shirt, you pulled him on top of you, kissing him more aggressively than before. You heard a small whimper escape from Dewey’s throat, his hands wandering up the sides of your body towards your chest.

He fumbled with your bra clasp for a few seconds before freeing your breasts and leaving them vulnerable to the cool air. Dewey’s room was always inexplicably colder than yours. You made a mental note to suggest your room next time.

Dewey made quick work of discarding his own shirt, throwing it across the room in a dramatic flourish. You couldn’t help but let out a cackle as you pulled him closer to you, your fingers prickling over the stubble that almost constantly adorned his face.

“What is it?” he asked softly, his eyes trailing down your exposed frame, “Having second thoughts?”

“No,” you answered firmly, “I don’t think I’ve been more sure of something in my entire life.” He squeezed your sides, his calloused hands making your skin tingle. “But Dewey? I want to forget. I want…I want to never think about him again.”

He cocked his head as he straddled you, his eyes darkening with lust, “Oh babe,” the pet name made an unexpected shiver run down your spine, “I’m gonna make you forget about that asshole, don’t you worry.”

His words buzzed in your head, but you didn’t have time to form a response. Dewey had moved to pull off your panties, and you were now completely exposed to him. You laid on your back, feeling the tickle of Dewey’s facial hair on your thighs as he kissed them lightly.

He spread your legs apart with his palms, looking back up at you like a man starved. You inhaled sharply as he dove mouth-first into your pussy, lapping at the wetness that had already accumulated inside you.

You panted as his hands gripped your thighs, pulling them even further apart to help him gain full access to you. You could feel him smile as you let out another involuntary groan, and then promptly resumed licking your folds.

A stray hand had removed itself from one of your thighs and was now travelling up your torso, making its home on your breast. Dewey kneaded it in his large palm, caressing every millimeter until finally taking ahold of your nipple. He pinched, teased, and rolled it between his fingers.

Oh god, he was good. Too good. Good enough to make you melt around him as he ate and squeezed and claimed what should’ve been his years ago.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked huskily, finding the willpower to pull himself from between your legs. You managed to squeak out an ‘Mhm’, still reeling from the overstimulation.

You didn’t even have the wits about you to realize Dewey had already removed his jeans, a thin layer of cotton boxers now the only thing separating the two of you. Your heart was caught in your throat.

He crawled back up to meet your lips, one hand moving downward to your clit while the other cupped the side of your face gently. That was an interesting trait Dewey possessed; he could be rough and soft all at once. The side effects of his method, for you at least, were utterly dizzying.

You could feel the pressure building within you, the rhythm against your clit varying. He knew how to read you, instinctively sensing when to slow or quicken his pace.

After a few minutes, you felt a familiar sensation that travelled from head to toe. “Dew, I’m gonna—” Dewey met your cry with another attack on your collarbone, this time making sure to nibble love bites onto you. You wanted to be his, and now you’d have the marks to prove it.

His pace was not letting up. In a matter of seconds everything—his attention to your clit, his other hand gripping your side for stability, his breathing hot and ragged so close to your ear—became too much.

You felt the release of orgasm wash over you, and you gripped Dewey’s shoulders as you squirmed underneath him. He didn’t let up, the circular motion of his digits continuing as you rode out your climax. Dewey had stopped his effort to give you hickeys only to watch the look of contentedness break out across your face.

It was better than anything you had experienced at the hands of someone else. And here you thought you were the only person who could make you cum that hard.

As you caught your breath, you saw a self-satisfied smile spread across his face as he continued to straddle you. The pressure of his weight felt oddly comforting to you.

“What?” you asked, snapping right back into your old, snarky rapport.

He shrugged. “I did tell you I was good with my hands, didn’t I?” he joked, his fingers nimbly teasing one of your nipples again as you gasped with pleasure. You hadn’t even had close to enough, however.

“Finn, if you don’t shut up and fuck me, I swear to god—”

“Shh, shh, shh, hey,” he cooed, pushing his dark locks aside as he wiped sweat from his brow, “All in good time, huh, dollface? I’ve been waiting for this for years. It’d be a shame if we didn’t both savor this, don’t ya think?” You groaned, a smirk creeping onto your face.

It was going to be a long night.

*****

thank you for reading! please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed!

[dr3amofagame]

In birdhouse, do c!dream and j!dream ever get together?

Are there any cute family moments between them and Agnes?

YOUVE ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD

okay uhm . c!Dream and j!Dream. screams cries throws up. these two give me SO much psychic damage u don't even know they hurt me soo so so so sos osobad ...

So what's important, first, is that c!Dream and j!Dream know each other from Four Square. They don't leave it on the...best of terms, because of what happens that leads up to the Monopoly game that turns into Mayfair, but they were each others' sole allies in that box, in a lot of ways. The only other one that understood, the one that they could trust to have their back even if they couldn't trust them to keep their own head. They go through a lot together, in those few days. But they're never alone for any of it, until Mayfair happens and then they're separated again.

c!Dream joins Mayfair after it's been going on for about a year--for c!Dream himself, he actually gets tped back into his own server for a while and kind of proceeds a la canon for a while there (minus the finale) before getting tossed back into j!Dream's server, to where j!Dream and j!Sam have been in a little cottage thousands of blocks away from spawn for a year, undisturbed. In the plain old Mayfair ending, c!Dream actually kills j!Dream and there's a dual kind of ending to it there--it's uhm pretty bittersweet but yeah ... but in Mayfair+ (which then proceeds into birdhouseisms) he gets captured and added To The House as a resident.

It's. Well. It's rocky. c!Dream is reeling from the loss of freedom, j!Sam is grappling with the implications of having his peace disturbed (and also absolutely giddy at the ability to fix his mistakes, not only in this timeline but in the last one as well...) and j!Dream is. Scared that this is going to rock the very carefully constructed status quo he's made for himself over the course of the last year. (In Mayfair, at this point, j!Dream has convinced himself that this is somewhere happy. He can be happy here, and this is fine, and he's never going to leave anyway so what does it hurt to make this into something livable...etc) and c!Dream threatens to take all of that away. A basement is built below the cottage that is more or less a replica of j!Dream's old cell, and c!Dream is put inside. And...life goes on. More or less.

c!Dream and j!Dream aren't allowed much time together, and when they are in the same room, they both know that 'working together' is the easiest damn way to make both of their lives harder in an instant. Besides, j!Dream doesn't want to help c!Dream (he's the bad one, he's the scapegoat, he's the one that won't keep his fucking trap shut and gets what he deserves as a result. j!Dream isn't about to suffer for his recklessness) and c!Dream couldn't care less about what happens to j!Dream (he's weak, he's an idiot, he gave up on EVERYTHING to become Sam's little toy, fuck him let him rot let him have this stupid excuse of a house and a relationship and let him be Sam's little plaything, what the fuck does it matter to him??) -- and that's that.

(If j!Dream makes a habit of distracting j!Sam when c!Dream is doing something to get on his nerves, if c!Dream makes a commotion in the other room when he hears something that feels a little too concerning, if there are hushed conversations and diluted potions exchanged and quiet moments in the house where c!Dream is allowed upstairs and things are...almost normal, well. They're not exactly drawing attention to them, are they?)

Things more or less progress along these lines over the course of birdhouse as more people are added, with some changes to the dynamic as time and people force everyone else to adapt as well. There are quite a few Significant Incidents--there's one in particular that's really, really important to j!Sam + c!Dream + j!Dream but uhmmm let's just say that one is going to. Stay redacted. For reasons 😭. But as long as j!Sam is around, any overt affection between c!Dream and j!Dream is a danger to them both, so they tend to cover for each other in much subtler ways--though this mellows out, in some ways, as time moves forward.

(In other ways, it kind of gets worse. But you know. You win some, you lose some.)

Because I haven't mentioned it yet, j!Sam and j!Dream do end up having a sexual relationship shortly into Mayfair--everyone assumes it starts a lot earlier, especially in Four Square, which (along with other things) kind of ends up being the catalyst for how things go down. Later on, c!Dream...will get involved in this dynamic as well. A lot later on. This is, um. Also complicated. There's a lot of shit involved in the whole c!Dream and j!Dream thing 😭😭😭😭

They don't get together together at any point in the birdhouse itself, but kisses are exchanged at a couple key moments, and they are like. Extremely important to each other. After birdhouse, they do get together eventually given the time to figure some shit out more, though their relationship itself isn't reeally easily defined. There are a lot of c!Dream j!Dream moments that I lose it over, like, literally daily--the wrist touch from Four Square is a big one, but there's also [REDCATED AGAIN SORRY] and everything around it, that time they nap on the couch together in the spinoff where the Quackitys end up at Mayfair cottage, them fighting over p!Sam like children, that moment they share in the siege :CC right before the end 😭, when p!Sam comes BACK and they finally get a moment together in the living room, literally everything and i mean Everything after they go to confront the captured sams ... guys they make me so ill it’s so bad 

OKAY UM as for the awesamdrabies . Agnes is is in a really awkward position as being like. Clearly. Not a child of Sam, and with c!Dream still being the least trusted in the house (on purpose, this guy does NOT listen to j!Sam ever and makes a hobby out of being As Difficult As Possible), he’s not really. Trusted with his own child either, for a long time. He’s allowed more supervised time with her later, but for a long time he’s not able to see her basically at all, unless he’s in the same room as one of the others tending to the babies when they’re outside of the nursery. j!Dream, on the other hand, kind of centers like his whole world on the babies after they’re a thing--they’re a tangible sign of the house becoming livable, getting better, and he’s. Very happy about this fact, about the reduced level of tension, at things finally, finally beginning to settle. So he spends a lot of time with his baby, of course, and Dream’s baby (duh, they’ve always looked out for each other in everything, it’s not like that’s going to change here) even though he’s got to be conscious of how j!Sam will perceive. All of it. 

Later on, when the kids are a little older, c!Dream gets more time with his baby and she absolutely adores him. Agnes is a fucking wild child and she absolutely adores her dad, even if she’s not really told that c!Dream is her dad at this point (she’s not told that anyone else is her dad, either.) c!Dream loves his stupid idiot daughter very much...at some point because of some dumb incident or another he gives her the nickname Cake. It absolutely sticks. 

(When the babies first became like, a Thing, c!Dream knew that he wouldn’t get the right to name his own daughter. He spent a lot of time thinking up names, anyway, because it took a while for j!Sam to settle on a name so what does it matter (for a while there, she is simply called Three.) j!Dream thinks that c!Dream is a little ridiculous but does go along with his name-brainstorming-sessions during their roughly weekly sessions of alone time where they find some corner to hide away and just. Sit and talk to each other. It’s something they’ve kept up since the beginning of their whole Deal in Mayfair+, to the best of their ability. 

Anyway, Agnes has another name in c!Dream’s head that he never tells anyone else. Not now, anyway. When they’re free, it’ll be different, he swears.) 

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

Kinktober is here yall, with a lil delay I offer you this:

Day 1 - Outdoor sex

Pairing: Jason Kolchek x Reader

Word count: ~3k

Rating: M, it's kinktober kids, it's smut time

Warnings: dirty talk, drug use, sex pollen (kinda), fingering - f recieving, lovey-dovey Jason, he's 50% a real gentleman 50% a tease, uhhh idk what's more im kinda suck at listing warnings but it's 18+ so that should do da thing

No more talky, it's kinky-tober time. Enjoy💕

"Alright alright!" You scoffed at Jason with a half smile, crossing your arms in front of your chest. "You should really tell me what you are up to, Jase, otherwise I might think you're bringing me to the woods to drop me off." The seatbelt slightly pushed into your collarbone as you turned to the side, to see your boyfriend's expressions. 

You and Jason agreed on an outdoorsy date as in today's program but the man has yet to reveal his destination with you, although you have been on the road for almost two hours now, long left the highway, and now dumping on the rocky paths of the nearest national park. 

A cheeky smirk splayed out on his lips, but Jason did not look at you- his gaze always focused on the road ahead, eyes busy taking in the possible holes and bumps that he wished to avoid at all costs.

"You'll see soon sweetheart." He rasped slowly- a hand rising from the wheel, gently squeezing your knee as reassurance. "Besides, I would have already told ya, if you weren't so pushy with guessing. I told ya to let me handle this but you didn't listen, now you suffer the consequence baby." Huffing you leaned back onto your backseat, trying to at least enjoy the amazing scenery that mother nature gifted you, if your boyfriend won't gift you with his knowledge. 

Soon you will see it anyway.

He stopped at a wide clearing on top of a lower cliff, surrounded by green trees and red poppy flowers. There was a small parking lot, marked with white and gray pebbles; Jason slowly drove onto it- rocks cracking and creaking under the tire. 

"Arrigh' we're here." He announced finally, turning to you with a soft smile, eyes sparkling as you were the most precious item in the world. 

Your stomach fluttered as you held Jason's gaze, heat crept up on your cheeks as his warm brown orbs captured you. 

You could never get enough of Jason's tender looks, that no matter what he always turned to you with kindness and care. 

It was a silent connection, the two of you shared. What he gave you, you always returned, treating the other only with respect and adoration, because this worked. It worked for Jason, as you always found his best qualities in him even if no one saw those, not even himself. You gave him strength and courage, that he indeed was worth more than he felt he did, that he was good at his things, and he deserved kindness and love. 

And he gave you as much as he could from his heart, from his soul, as much as his walls let him. You were the best thing that happened to him and he treasured you dearly - reassuring you, having your back and being there when you needed him. Jason treasured you, and he wanted to make sure the two of you could bask in each other's love as much as it was possible with your hectic daily life. 

"Just like in a romcom." You giggled, getting out of the front seat. "A cliff, flowers, a cozy picnic. You know how to sweep me off my feet, Kolchek." 

Jason chuckled at your formality; a tiny part of him even liked it when you addressed him with his surname - like you are his superior. 

"What can I say?" He shrugged, walking to the back of the car, already taking out the baskets and blanket for the meal. "This is what happens when you watch too many movies with your girlfriend." 

Chuckling you stepped beside him, arms brushing against his tattooed ones, as you hooked your elbow below the basket. 

"So you did pay attention." You teased, leaning up, so you could face him. 

"I can't zoom out for the entirety of the movie." Jason rolled his eyes then shrugged, winking at you, as he took out one last basket from the car. 

Circling you, he quickly slid one container onto his left arm, offering you his free hand. 

"May I?" He asked theatrically, bowing slightly at you. 

"It would be my pleasure." You played alongside, with a wide motion you took his hand, fingers lacing into one another. "Show me the way, Sir."

"At your service, Ma'am." 

You giggled, and squeezed his hand, giving Jason's cheeks a quick peck. "Such a gentleman." 

"And the date didn't even start yet." 

The sun shone brightly, even at the late hours of the day, warming up the earth around you, along with your skin. The fresh breeze blew through the emerald canopies, leaves rustling above your head. 

After the busy week, the two of you had  it was refreshing to finally be able to catch up on the other's stories, how the days went, what gossip did you hear and what news could you discuss in peace. It went just like it would in a fairy tale until the sun finally set its last rays at you, coloring the sky with deep oranges, bright pinks and reds. 

When it started to get dark Jason set down his plate, arms coming up above his head to stretch after sitting so long in one place. 

"Sweetheart, how much do you trust me?" Cane the question unexpectedly from him. 

You broke your gaze from the beautiful scenery in front of you, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I trust you with my life." You replied without hesitation. "Well…kinda with my life. I trust you very much Jase, why? What are you planning?" You furrowed with a lopsided smile, for which he chuckled and raised his hands to his chest. 

"Me? Nothing! Why the suspicion eh? It was just a question, I plan absolutely nothing." 

You hummed, narrowing your eyes. 

"Of course, of course. But you can't lie to me honey. I can see through you." You giggled, cupping his cheeks for a soft kiss. "So, what do you plan?" 

Jason leaned forward, brushing his nose against yours before he broke the closeness, and raised up from the blanket. 

"Arright' , I'll show ya, but don't be mad."

"That depends on what you are showing me." You told him, shooting a cheeky grin at him. 

Jason walked back to the car, only to return a few moments later with a small iron box. 

Settling down beside you again he brought the metal container between your bodies and opened it with one flick of his thumb.

You gasped when your eyes took in the content of the box. 

"Jase!" You whispered amused and slightly amazed, giving his arm a light smack. 

Jason laughed, as he took out two rolls of joint from the box, a lighter appearing from his pocket. 

"Just a little weed sweetheart, nothing heavy." He assured you by offering one, which you took with a scoff.

"I know, but we're in a public place! Cops can come and see it?" You reasoned, already rolling it between your fingers. 

"As if they would come up here right now." 

"Babe, you speak like a teenager right now." Jason shrugged, moving the paper up to his lips, but when you gave him a skeptical look he sighed.

"Okay, okay" He gave in, placing his share back into the box. "Then let's watch some stars like in the movies, you like so much." 

He moved to take your piece from your hand, but you hesitated. Baffled, he called your name, not understanding your actions.

After a moment of silence, you tilted your head to the side, raising the last cig in front of his face. 

"But…" You drawled, acting as you were considering things. "Maybe you're right. Sharing one wouldn't hurt anybody…. Cops could come later, you know." 

A smug look appeared on Jason's face as he understood what you wanted. 

"That's what I call romance." Bringing out the lighter again he offered you to light it. 

"Oh just shut up." You chuckled, locking eyes with him as he lit the small package. 

You eased your mind into a slow and cozy numbness as the two of you switched the cig back and forth. It wasn't heavy, it didn't feel strange, you thought he brought some lighter ones only to ease up from the stress. And it really worked; your mind fogging every worry and task you were thinking about a day long, strengthening only the warm feeling in your heart as you looked at the man in front of you. 

Jason noticed your stare, as you lended him the slightly smoking cig again. Your hands brushed together and he took the opportunity to slide his hand up your arm to your neck, before sliding back and taking it from you. 

Smiling, you leaned closer to him, watching carefully how his lip and hand moved. 

"Hey." He rasped taking your wrist, pulling you into his form, until you climbed into his lap. Wrapping his free arm around your waist he pushed his forehead to yours, lips barely touching. Opening slightly your lips you waited, not even daring to breathe as you locked eyes with him. 

He took a sip from the joint before his hand came to hold your cheeks, thumb and index finger moving down to your jaw to open it up further for him. 

As you obeyed him, Jason slowly blew out the smoke, the mist connecting you two, before he seized your lips with his. Using his hands on your jaw he opened your mouth further, making it into an open mouthed kiss. You moaned when his tongue slid into your mouth, caressing and lapping. 

You didn't even notice you straddled him, arms wrapped around his neck until you started bucking your hips into his own. 

"Shit baby, you wanna ride me?" He rasped as he took another sip, sharing his breath with you. "You want me to fuck your pussy here, huh?" 

A sharp ache rose in your core as you listened to him, grinding harder at his growing bulge. 

"Yes Jase." You breathed seeking his lips again, teeth biting into his soft lower lip. Jason hummed as he repositioned you into his lap, pushing you further into his hardening cock. 

"What?" He broke the kiss, bowing down to plant hot kisses over your neck, sucking on the side, over your pulse. "Didn't hear ya. What do ya want from me, baby?" He teased as he snuggled his nose into your hot skin.

"I want you to fuck me." You whined, impatient that your clothes were still on. 

"What a restless lil' thing you are." Jason mouthed at your earlobe, slowly sucking it into his mouth, nibbling on it. Taking one last sip of the joint, he blew some at your nose as well, then throwing it into an empty glass he focused his attention fully on your form.

Warm and firm hands slid up to your hips, fingers squeezing and palming on your soft flesh as he guided you upwards until you were on your knees. 

"Baby I can't take your clothes off here." He cooed as his hands traveled to your front, now cupping your breasts in his palm.

"Then..then don't." You managed to say as Jason found his way under your shirt, quickly unbuckling your bra, rolling your nipples between his thumb. "Just the jeans." 

"The cold might bother you sweetheart…" He continued, stopping in his moves, face buried in your collarbone. 

"Shit Kolchek" Cursing you grabbed his right hand and shoved it down to your navel, trying to unbutton your own pair of jeans. You felt the button let go, and you immediately pushed Jason's hands into your underwear. "Start fucking me before I lose my paitience." You demanded, under gritting teeth. 

"Oh, really?" He chuckled, but his fingers hooked into your pants, grazing the line for a while. "How so?" 

Grunting, you rocked your hips up into his touch, and with a pitiful snicker he finally glided down his fingers, brushing through your lips.

Your eyes fell shut and your head lolled to the side as Jason started to circle at your clit, his hot tongue coming parting your mouth, capturing your short pants. 

"Gotta prep you for me, darlin'." He murmured into your lips; his stare burning into your eyes. Now the warm and calming glint of his eyes vanished, leaving darkened stares, filled with lust and hunger – ready to set you apart then put you back together at his will.

You opened your mouth, wanting to plead to hurry his moves up, because you wanted more, you wanted to feel more, to feel him inside you, his skin and sweat on your own, but before you could manage out any words; with a smug smile Jason pushed one finger into you, curling it at the right angle. 

The breath stuck on your throat, your body reacted without a thought - back arching into his touch, you started rocking on his hand. 

"Jase" A weak mewl escaped your lips, as your jaw opened up, head falling onto Jason's shoulder. 

"That's it, sugar. Fuck my hand like the pretty little brat you are. So fuckin needy for my cock, aren't you?" He praised you with ragged breaths, his other hand grabbing a handful of hair on your nape, not hard enough to hurt you, but firmly holding you into his body. "Speak baby, I want to see that gorgeous mouth moving." Putting emphasis on his words, Jason slightly pushed your nape back, so you would look up at him. 

"You can't be without me, fucking you silly, can you?" Jason gritted between his teeth, as he smiled down at you, studying your expressions.

"N- no I can't." You mumbled, barely comprehending the words you just said. "I need your dick inside of me baby, I need you to fuck me so much." 

A chuckle left Jason, the vibration rumbled through your connected chest; he grazed his neck with the tip of his nose, slowly moving down to your shirt.  

"Okay then." Was all he said when he suddenly added two more fingers, thumb rubbing quick circles at your clit, as you squeezed your thighs together - stingy flames arising in your core, your climax was slowly building up in you. 

"I want you to soak my hand sweetheart. Fuck my finger until you're a big mess for me." 

"Shit, Jason!" You gasped, suddenly grabbing his shirt at the shoulders, pushing him down. "I want to…hmmm want you to take care of me fully." You let go of the fabric only to bring your hands to your own shirt, shaking fingers pulling the hem up to your stomach, and over your chest. A shiver ran down your spine as the night's cool air hit your heated skin, a sudden twitch going through you, but the cold went away as soon as Jason nestled his head down, soft strings of brown hair tickling your chin while his breath tickled your skin. He drew out his tongue, testing - first flicking your hardened nipple a few times, his warm cheeks rested on your chest. 

"Fuck yes. Just like that, Jase. Continue please, make me cum baby." Hands moved back to his neck, brushing through his hair as he sucked in one hardened bud, pinching the other between his thumb and index. 

Flexing your already trembling muscles you rose from his lap, only to sink back after a moment, pushing his fingers further up in your cunt. You felt your core tightening, ready to snap the tension; and chasing it you quickened your peace, bouncing your hips up and down. 

When you finally tipped over the edge, your walls fluttered around Jason's fingers, legs locking up around his hips as you choked out a broken moan of his name, over and over like a prayer. 

"Goddamnit, you fucking drenching me babe. What a nice pussy you have, cumming for me so hard; imagine what will my dick do to you." Jason's amazed voice was muffled, you only heard your blood, pumping through your veins, in your ear as you came down from your high. 

You mumbled out his name again in a semi-comprehensive way, head bobbing down the crown of his own, to brace you. 

All the strength and energy left your body, you were sure if it weren't for your boyfriend's arm that sneaked around your back, you would probably fall backwards. 

But he had you in a steady hold, kissing his way back up to your face, studying it with a fond smile.

"Shit baby you're so good. So damn good for me, cumming like this. What a nice job you did." He murmured into your skin as he slowly pulled out his hand from your pants. Hissing from the sudden emptiness and cold, you moved closer to his middle, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

But Jason dodged your kiss, tilting his head to the side he turned away from you. You frowned at him, wanting to question the sudden denial of your silent compliment, but before you could say anything, you saw from the corner of your eye that he brought his hand to his mouth, pushing in his glistening fingers, sucking them clean with obscene sounds. 

You made a small whine  seeing it, Jason responded with a snicker, when he finished cleaning his digits. 

"I leave no crumbs darlin'." He explained with a smirk. "Catch your breath sugar, I'll go get another blanket, cause soon I'll give you a second round." He promised as he gently put you down to your back.

Planting a soft kiss to your temple he stood up and with quick steps he walked back to the car. 

Jason didn't want to waste much time, after all this date was all about the two of you. 

[ajgrey9647]

Headcanon Game - A to Z (nsft)

Sentry Adam (dealer's choice~): Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Kink (One or more of their kinks) Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Ooohhhh boy... this one even surprised me... lol

Black Sentry Adam Park

Dirty Secret:

Adam would rather die than ever admit this to another soul, even Skull and he usually told that man more than he EVER needed to know!

He did admit part of the truth at the ‘roundtable’ bonfire as both Coinless rebels and former Sentries compared stories of their most ‘what the fuck’ tales during Drakkon’s reign. Despite hearing everyone else’s wild escapades and close calls, he stubbornly kept this secret close to his chest. Adam was ashamed of what he’d done, confused at why he’d done it, why his body betrayed him in such a disgusting manner…

But that was not quite accurate, was it? He did have a theory about his physical response, not that it made anything better or relieved any of his guilt.

Skull stood in front of the fire, grinning, arms spread wide as he finished his odd experience imbibing in alcohol and weed with both Drakkon and Red, chilling like a trio of high school kids sneaking a drink and a smoke in their parent’s basement.

A few people razzed Eugene, knowing the tyrant’s public stance on indulging in mind altering substances. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“There was that one time, I caught them doing a line of blow… They didn’t see me, and I didn’t announce my presence.”

Now, all eyes were laser focused on the former Black Sentry, curious for further dirt on the crazy motherfucker and his demonic doggie. Fortunately, Kim’s arrival and her top tier tale took the attention away from him, to his great relief.

Adam had been too mortified to admit that while he’d stood hidden in Drakkon’s chambers behind heavy velvet drapery, he watched the two not only snort the white, powdery drug from long lines gracing a polished tabletop, he’d also been privy to a vigorous, sweaty, and prolonged fucking.

And as he remained ensconced in the green fabric, he tried to tune it out, tried to resist the primal urge to peek at the performers (because at that moment they very much were like circus acrobats)… Shamefully, his baser nature won out and his hand found its way inside the dark pants to a throbbing rock hard cock.

“Cry for me, you goddamn fucking bitch!” Drakkon screamed at one point, shoving Red dangerously close to where Adam was hiding. “I want to taste your misery!”

It had to be the over-the-top dominant/submissive dynamic between the pair that was causing this reaction, the kink mirroring his own desire as the tyrant berated, smacked, choked, and beat Red about the room, all the while thrusting into his ass with violent force.

This was what Adam was craving in the recesses of his heart, to be bleeding at the hands of a powerful, aggressive woman who knew what she wanted and was determined to take it. Receiving a well-deserved and welcome ass beating before being granted an orgasm…

As luck would have it, Adam came at the same time as Drakkon, the latter bellowing so loudly that the voyeur’s cries went unheard, the asshole’s fingers yanking Red’s head back by his thick mane. And when they collapsed in a sweaty, drugged out bliss, the pet ardently licked and sucked his master’s fingers, his dark eye dilated and glossy gazing with adoration at the fucker even after the pain that was inflicted.

Yes… it was true…. Adam had jacked off while watching Drakkon and Red wildly indulging in cocaine-fueled, violent sex…

That was a secret best taken to the grave.

Kink:

Even before their world took a nosedive into the shitter, Adam was a meek, reserved, and soft-spoken young man. He possessed an easy, sunny smile and had no trouble making friends despite his apparent shyness. His personality complemented the more outgoing, loud, and gregarious natures of his best friends, Rocky and Aisha.

Adam was an observer, a thinker, commenting pearls of wisdom that he seemingly pulled from air at just the right time. He was a model son, an amazing friend, and eventually, a devoted husband and father. For the short time, his wife and child were alive, that was…

As a Black Sentry, his temperament did not change all that much, besides losing that gentle smile, not too surprising given the front row seat he held to theatrical fuckery that would haunt his dreams nightly for the rest of his life. Now, his commentary was a blend of dry sarcasm, sometimes uttered with a very put-upon sigh of resignation.

After Drakkon had been run out of his palace and into the vast wilderness that encroached closer and closer to the perimeter wall, Adam was the only person in attendance that wasn’t jumping for joy. They’d only succeeded in replacing one asshole with another and, while the simpering aristocracy celebrated their treachery, he’d merely tossed his weapon upon the cobblestones, turned on his heel, and strode off into the night, unnoticed and silent.

Spotted wandering aimlessly about their territory, the Coinless guards alerted Eugene to Adam’s presence and the two old friends had a heartfelt reunion before the quiet man was taken under Skull’s wing and brought back to their encampment. The first night he was there, Adam looked about the thick crush of trees and bracken and muttered…

“You know they chased that prima ballerina and his precious pooch into the forest, right? He’ll probably find us now and slit our throats while we sleep.”

It was utter silence as the assembled group stared at the Black Sentry, no one exactly sure what to say to that. Kimberly, Drakkon’s former Ranger Slayer, pinched the bridge of her nose and shut her eyes, while Zack crossed his arms indignantly and Trini slipped away to assemble more watchers.

“Nah,” Skull finally quipped, slinging a friendly arm over Adam’s shoulders. “That’s not his style. He’s like ‘em awake and aware, remember? That asshole’s never been subtle.”

After that, the newcomer was dubbed as a ‘Debbie Downer’, a stick in the mud, who sucked the wind from your sails if you got too excited or happy about something. It wasn’t intentional to be cruel or hateful. This was the way that Adam had survived in the palace.

There WERE times it came in handy like trying to avoid future pitfalls when discussing tactics or intelligence gathering.

However, overall, the consensus was that people tended to avoid Adam if they were in a positive frame of mind. It was not uncommon for Skull to pat his dark hair kindly, and with a slow shake of his head, reiterate that the sullen Black Sentry reminded him greatly of Eeyore, the chronically depressed donkey of the children’s tales of Winnie the Pooh.

Given this quiet, depressing demeanor, the others would be shocked to discover Adam had a secret kink, one that drove him so crazy, it made him stupid enough to feel happiness. At least for a little while as hormones flooded his system and clouded his critical brain.

Adam LOVED a bossy, loud, assertive woman, one that could be aggressive and tell you how things were going to be! The woman would stand over him in her highest, most expensive heels, lacy black stockings climbing her powerful thighs and clipped by a garter belt, a leather corset squishing her breasts prominently, her contemptuous lips curled and sporting a deeply red lipstick.

The mysterious female dominant looked at him like a worm, someone she took great pains to be patient with, a soft, plush little man to mold in her manicured hands. No matter her outer attire, this vixen wore risqué lingerie in reds, blacks, royal purple… they came in laces, silks, leather, and velvet… what she considered her ‘real’ uniform beneath her ‘socially appropriate outfit’ and they served to enhance her powerful, confident nature.

Her shiny stilettos would brush his quivering flesh as he knelt at her feet. Sometimes, the sharp heel or toe would nudge his balls in warning, ensuring she had his full attention. She was a femme fatale and knew it.

Adam would drool over those pricey high heels, lap them clean with his tongue at her command. A knowing smile from those ruby lips as she watched him salivate…thinking of more degrading tasks for the weakling to earn her favor.

In life, his own beautiful wife was just such a woman. She was strong, powerful, outspoken, and a bombshell in the bedroom. That didn’t change when she was looking death in the face, knowing full well she was unable to save herself or her child, the tears flowing down her reddened cheeks.

So, what did she do?

That crazy, gorgeous wife of his drilled that hateful fuck directly in the balls, dropping him into an embarrassing heap before his Sentries, dry heaving in agony and fighting mightily to regain his menacing stature. Adam couldn’t have been prouder of her… She was vicious even to the end.

The depressed, quiet man couldn’t imagine ever meeting another like his wife, resigned to living out his life celibate as a monk and possibly live vicariously through watching Kimberly and Bulk behaving flirtatiously and getting handsy when they thought no one was looking. Sometimes, he felt like he’d love to just watch a couple having sex while he handled his cock himself. He’d resorted to it before…

Fortunately for Adam, men like himself were adorned with giant neon signs, invisible to all except the type of woman he most desired.

And Scorpina could see it loud and clear and was more than happy to walk all over Adam in her spikiest shoes….

Oral:

Adam LOVES servicing his Queen and is very talented in providing pleasure. He prides himself on learning new moves and techniques. Like Red, he finds books, magazines, etc. to keep himself at the top of his game. Giving her an orgasm with his mouth is how he feels powerful and important, to earn his place at her feet.

If his dominant wishes to give him oral as a gift, he won’t refuse her desire, but doesn’t like to stand over her when she does so. It seems to him like it’s putting her in a submissive role. So, he prefers to lay on his back or any other way that preserves their ‘titles.’

[fregget-frou]

The Freelancer has major “I need to comfort everyone” syndrome, it’s just the overall vibe they have ok now here’s my rambles on it plus that found family for some fluff ✨✨

Because We’re Friends

Freelancer seems like the kind of person who’s always tried to put their true self on the back burner, like they were too much for some people and they always deserved the attention and care. Because why would someone choose them out of everyone else? There’s so many more people more worthy of love and care in their mind. Even with that they still try to be soft and malleable, something that’s quiet and static for people to rest on before they go off to other people. They made themselves quiet, did their best to learn how to listen, a person to talk to and give out compliments. Because even with all their doubt they still desperately craved any kind of attention, and if being that shoulder to cry on was what they could get? It was more than enough.

They liked it. They liked people being happy in their presence. They wanted to be comforting and what people needed. They wanted to be needed, even if they thought they didn’t deserve it. Like the most forms of care and affection were taboo to be “wasted” on them.

They lived like that for a while, got used to being someone in the background, being that “mellow” person, always being someone’s friend but never having any friends of their own.

Until they got to DAMN. Met their group of people. They thought it was going to be like rest of their relationships, so freelancer started to go into the motions. Acting as a person to talk to and get advice but still distant. Then they started to reach out. As Gavin was constantly showering them with attention it made them feel drunk because for some reason to them it felt so genuine. And would anyone say such beautiful things to them? Think so highly of them, they weren’t special in their own mind no not for someone like him. But he continued nevertheless, and they couldn’t help but crave it. They craved the innocent morning touches on his skin to their own. The smiles as they sun rose from their window bathing him in light. The nights where they felt like he didn’t want them for their body, only them. He asked for nothing but their presence. And they yearned for his all encompassing arms because it was one of the few places they could let go of things and just indulge themselves in what to them felt like the most horrible sins, to be loved and to accept it.

Then freelancer was going out with Huxley, they preferred him talking. His voice was kind enough and they enjoyed it as he rambled about things he loved. They’d go quiet, trying their best to listen and let him do his thing. Then he’d look at them, in their eyes—no, their soul—and he’d have a look of just. Knowing. He knew what they were trying desperately to not show others. He wouldn’t mention it but Huxley would still push them out of their comfort zone. He’d let them try to talk. Freelancers voice was rocky at first then they talkies, they couldn’t stop themselves. Like an old damn and it’s gates opening to backed up rainwater, it came out and couldn’t be stopped. Anything really, things they learned in classes, facts and just cool things they found interesting as they walked through the forrest on their hikes together. They’d both would just talk to each other, and they felt at ease. He felt like home, not just someone who hung around them but someone who truly cares about freelancer as a person. He was their friend. He was aware of them, what they liked to do. Their favorite toppings on hotdogs. What their smile, real smile looked like. That they snorted when they laughed. He knew all the stupid things they cared about. Freelancer was in new territory but now? They didn’t want to be distant anymore. They had a friend now. And he had one too.

Lasko was there from the very start too, one of the first friendly faces in a scary world. He was a small light, leading them out into the world, showing all the new things they used to push away. They could recognize themselves in him, from one human born to the next yes but, there was more. He wasn’t quiet per-say but he understood what it was like to feel like you aren’t deserving of things. He’d try to brush off things, amazing and incredible things and all of his interests and freelancer couldn’t comprehend how he’d think he was annoying or uninteresting. How could someone so great think like this? Before freelancer knew they caught themselves thinking about how they think like that too. They saw all the things they went through and they saw how even through he went through similar he’d risen to heights they wouldn’t even dream of getting to. He’d become a role model, someone who they looked up to because hey! You went through what I went through and look how far you’ve gone! So now he’s a friend, and with each rickety step Lasko and Freelancer try to help each other become better. Better people better friends and better to themselves, bit by bit they both learned how to take pride in themselves.

Damien was there as a companion, and someone who pushed them. He started as a peer who knew so much and was good at everything, intimidating to freelancer who was basically like newborn calf trying to walk in the magic world. Even with their many, many mess ups, he saw things inside of freelancer they’d pushed down a long, long time ago. He saw not just potential but a person under all the soft yet thick exterior they made to be a wall in between themselves and others. He exposed it to the air and sometimes it stung like a wound, because they never pushed themselves because they thought they could never be anything more. They didn’t think they could be more, that stopped as they became closer to Damien. He saw they could and knew what to do to push them to be better, not just academically. Freelancer saw that he cared so much, so much for people and struggled with being “too intense”. Like his rightful anger was too much. They knew what it was like to be too much. They liked to see him get excited and do things he cared about. His hobbies, what he wanted to do. They found common ground in being nerds, in dreaming of trying to make their world better for people like them. They liked being around him, because he was their friend.

As freelancer looked back from the kitchen as they made dessert, all their friends—no family— sat on their couch playing games and laughing they felt like they were home. Joining them, being invited and involved. Seeing everyone, all these people they care so much about and them caring back. They’re freelancers family. It wasn’t just a friend group to them, not like what they were used to. It felt so surreal even as they say and smashed the buttons on the controller, sat next to all of them and feeling it all, it still felt like they were going to wake up. It felt too go be true, how could they get so lucky? Any moment now they’d wake up from the best dream and go back to normalcy. That never did happen though. Now they all sat in knitted sweaters from Huxley and tea made by Damien, perfect blend and temperature. Lasko brought games and his dnd lore, Gavin brought his excellent charm and blankets from the closet and sat beside them holding their hip. It was a fall night and they were with their family, and they reveled in the taboo feeling of being loved fully for who you are, such a raw feeling.

The freelancer knew now it’s what they deserved, they were worthy of it even with their achievements or themselves. They were worthy of this, this fall night on a couch surrounded by people who they loved and loved back.

Because they were friends.

[gay-destiel]

¡¥ It Doesn't Matter ¥¡

~Aralas One-Shot~

This was gonna be jegulus but nvm it's Aralas

You can pretend it's jegulus if you want

TW: mentions of self harm / suicidal thoughts

I draw my bow, my fingers trembling with unspoken rage as I let an arrow fly.

Thud.

The vicious words slicing through all the barriers I've ever put up. Chosen to rip me apart.

Thud.

Estel's face as the truth is revealed, leaving me bare. The horror, and the disgust.

Thud.

Shame washes over me, mixing with the volatile rage built up over the years. From so many people casually jabbing at me, not knowing the consequences.

Thud.

Bottling up the emotions, day by day, until finally, I break. Simmering below the surface, waiting to rear up at the closest opportunity.

Thud.

Lines of red blooming across my skin, the short bliss before the typhoon comes roaring back. Pin pricks, healed before the night is past.

Thud.

The teasing tilt of Estel's lips as he grins, the twinkling light in his eyes, and his rough voice, broken yet soothing.

Thud.

The change in his face as my truths are revealed, my self loathing spilling over the edges, out of control for a moment. His sharp eyes, not missing a thing. The horrified emptiness as he realizes.

Thud.

Slipping down the rocky slope as her conniving words slither into their brains. Fading away, out of the throne room as the attention shines on her manipulative schemes, except they believe her.

Thud.

Lost in my thoughts, the solid ground already crumbled away. My place in the world, gone in the blink of an eye.

I start at a hand on the arrow, my raw fingers tight on the bowstring.

"Don't do that, you'll hurt yourself."

Estel.

He eases the bow out of my hands, his grip gentle, but firm. My arms drop to my sides, and I stare at the target, at the feathered shafts sticking.out.

"Legolas. Look at me? Please..."

When I don't move, he reaches his hand up, and tilts my face towards him. I look down, avoiding his eyes. His voice almost sounds broken, as he says softly,

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I pull at a loose thread of my tunic,

"I didn't think you'd want to know."

He stiffens,

"Of course I want to know! You shouldn't have to feel like that."

I look up at him, my fingers trembling from the memory of the bowstring. Burning, my eyes blur up,

"It doesn't matter what I shouldn't have to do! Ever since I was small, I've had to be perfect. Perfect shot, perfect manners, and the other races hate me for it. When I'm not perfect, the elves hate me for it. Whatever I do, there are people looking down on me, telling me exactly what I did wrong! Then you came along, and it was like a miracle. You were the brightest star I'd seen for a long time, and I didn't want to be responsible for dimming you." The tears I'm so desperately trying to hold back spill out, tracing lines down my cheeks, "I didn't tell you because I knew that if you knew, you'd hate me. And now- now I've messed that up too."

My mouth opens, about to say something else, but before I can, Estel pulls me into a hug. Shock washes over me as he says roughly,

"I don't hate you. You haven't messed us up, and you never will. There will always be people who don't like you, who tell you what you're doing wrong. But there are also people who love you. People who tell you how amazing you are, and how strong you are to keep going. I can be that person." He pulls back enough to look me in the eyes, "You are amazing, Legolas. You are doing your best, and that's enough. You're vulnerable, and there are people out there who exploit it, but those people deserve to feel horrible, to want to die for what they did. The reason you're different to them is that you have empathy. You feel so strongly towards the people you care about, and they're jealous. And when they tell you that nobody cares, remember- remember that I love you, Legolas Thranduilion. I love you more than you could guess, and it breaks my heart to see you like this. I can hold you. I can help you up, if only you let me in."

Estel takes a breath, his chest a little unsteady. His dark eyes are restless, earnest.

Shocked, I look at him, my eyes round.He doesn't let me speak, tightening his arms around me.

After a moment, I melt into his embrace, and the tears fall.

[smolcuriouskitten]

Going in Circles

The days began to bleed together as her monotonous routine continued. Sam hasnt picked up a single call or text. He did say he was going on a hunt but she doubted that. She doubted that in her heart. The last time someone walked out on her, it ended in tears, divorce, and one hell of a hangover.

She knew he was too good to be true. She knew that things were going too well for her. She was fearful for his safety of course, not wanting to be so selfish to think that he just walked out on her. She wasnt linked with him yet, so how would she have known if he was alive or not? No no, dont think so grimly, just because hes human doesnt mean hes weak. He could be different. Hes a hunter, hunters always carry themselves in a safe manner. What if he was reckless?

Just scribble your thoughts into the book. Stop thinking about it for now, hes gonna be back. Roxie wasnt helping either, whispering little things in her ears about how he was probably dead. Stupid to fall in love with a human. A hunter at that. Okay, writing isnt helping. Maybe a shower and your mothers records will help ease the pain and make Roxie shut up.

Getting up from her spot on the couch, she turns on the water for the shower. She goes through her closet to find one of his hoodies he gave to her. On one of their dates, she was cold and he gave it to her and she meant to give it back to him but it slipped her mind. Grabbing it despite Roxie's protests, she hangs it by the door to slip on after her shower. She puts one of her mothers vinyls and puts it on the player, letting it play. The song was about how she would return, deja vu, one of those that would fill Ramondas for wanting ears.

Rockelle stepped into the shower and lets the water run over her, singing along with her mothers tape, Roxie's voice growing quiet. She had a moment of peace again. After a well deserved shower, she heard a car pull up into her driveway. She wasnt expecting company and she didnt get a call from Sam either. Moving from her bed, she walks downstairs, Kimchi peacefully by her side. Did he really return?

Seeing that flannel and his hair, the man she grew to love in one peace, all that worry left her. She was happy to see he was okay but she was angry. Angry that he left without notice, sad that he didnt think to tell her about it, that happiness was short lived. "Hi Rocky. It..its been awhile." He said with open arms as she opened the door for him, intead of giving him a hug, she just looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

"Oh Im aware. You didnt think to call to let me know you were okay? Or at least tell me where you were going?" Rockelle responded coldly and Sam's jaw clenched, his smile dropping to a frown. "Im sorry. The hunt had required all of my attention. I should have called to let you know what was going on." She steps aside so he can come in and he nods briefly, walking in, Rockelle shutting the door behind him.

"So Im not worthy of at least 10% of your attention? A simple text saying 'im okay' is better than nothing." She argues and Sam sighs, his word choice was questionable and it ignited an argument. "Rocky, I didnt mean it like that. Im just saying with hunts, they are time sensitive and even a minute of my brother and I not paying attention to our surroundings or research could be fatal." He quips back, Rockelle scoffing and nodding. "Right right. Was it time sensitive when you left without telling me?" She asks, tilting her head as she waited for his answer.

"I understand how that can be frustrating. I should have let you know where I was going. That was wrong of me to just up and leave without notice." He answers, clenching his jaw and holding his head. Rockelle hums in response, folding her arms. "I am still mad at you even with your apology. I get worried easily Sam. I dont want you to just leave without telling or giving me an idea as to what you are doing. I dont want you to just walk out on me and I dont know if you are gonna come back..." That anger she felt began to fizzle away into sadness, feeling bad that she was being selfish and mean to him, despite him coming back. Before she knew it, tears began to fall down her face, making Sam rush in and hold her face.

"Hey hey! Its okay! Im sorry, I should have said something. That was wrong of me to go without saying anything. Nothings gonna happen to me, I will always be here." He soothes, wiping her tears away and Rockelle sniffs, nodding her head. She didnt tell him about her abilities yet, about how she would outlive him inevitably. She didnt want to say that she couldnt lose him before his time, all she could do was nod and cry.

"I love you...and I dont wanna lose you." Her voice trembled and Sam kisses her forehead, resting his head on top of hers. "I love you too. And you wont, I promise. Im not going anywhere." He mused, pressing more kisses on her soft skin, leaving a final kiss on her nose that was red from crying. "Hey." Sam called, making Rockelle look at him, sniffling, waiting curiously. "You look adorable in my hoodie by the way." He compliments and boops her nose, making Rockelle nod and smile softly. "Thank you baby." She leaves a kiss on his nose making him smile as they both held each other close.

{for @ofwaywardsunshine }