#crash course in sock knitting

[ub-sessed]

Intro to sock knitting?

I'm looking for a video that covers the basics of sock knitting: toe-up vs. cuff-down, different heel and toe techniques, different cast ons and bind offs, what they have in common, what makes them different.

Any suggestions?

Thank you!

[hyunsvngs]

𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 - modern royalty au!lee felix x female reader

wc: 10.6k words

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: felix and mc being dumbasses, no use of y/n, sickeningly sweet petnames, ANGST, fluff!!, smut warnings under the cut

synopsis: your childhood best friend, the prince lee felix, is due to be betrothed in an arranged marriage organised by his mother. the problem is, you’re her top choice - and you’re also secretly madly in love with him.

a/n: our first fic on the blog!! if anyone has any questions or any thoughts to share with me please feel free. this fic is my baby and i hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it ♡

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: dryhumping, use of petnames in bed, no actual sex!!, soft cutie felix except nsfw!!!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You'd loved Lee Felix since the day you met him.

Of course, your brain had always convinced you that he was unattainable. You weren't without status, so to speak - your mother was famously known as the Queen's lady-in-waiting, and it was through her job that you'd had the pleasure of meeting the two princes, Felix and his elder brother Chris. You and Felix had clicked instantly. You had no other siblings yourself, and your father had died in the army when you were a baby, leaving your mother widowed and you without one of your intended parental figures.

Felix had taken that all in his stride, though. The day he met you he stumbled up to you with the grace of Bambi's first movement on ice, all short chubby limbs flailing everywhere and eyes formed in crescent moons with the size of his smile. Chris had taken less interest in you. Although polite, he was three years older than the both of you and already had his own group of friends, but you and Felix hadn't even started formal education yet - and you were inseparable as soon as you met. You were enchanted by him, he had been your first crush, and your first love once you were old enough to understand what that was.

You began your life as a shy, timid little girl, just as clumsy as your best friend. Your knobbly knees were always bruised and scarred, peeking out from the tops of your white knee socks and covered in whatever bandages Felix could find to wrap around you. Felix had brought you out of your shell, introduced you to some of his other 'friends' - at the start, they were just kids with similar status to him, but they really did form a tight knit group eventually. Now, you were known to always be by the side of Felix and his group, getting up to whatever secret debauchery you could manage that wouldn't risk any of your positions in society. Your mother, thankfully, had turned a blind eye to most of it, and the Queen was always too occupied to notice.

When you were younger, you and Felix loved to go out gallivanting. You'd stumble to the nearest beach, bags of towels and books in your canvas bags and giggle as you threw them on the sand. You had some form of an unofficial book club, just the two of you. You saw him practically all day everyday, but you'd both discussed and had decided to designate a Saturday afternoon to discuss whatever books you'd found in the extensive palace library and you both avoided any and all kinds of book talk on any other day in the week. The beach had become your place to gush over whatever literature had caught your attention, with the calming waves of the sea crashing behind you and the tweeting of whatever birds had made an appearance that day.

Now, though, you were both of age. You were both twenty one, and that meant that marriage was around the corner for Felix. He'd been so busy lately, you'd barely had the chance to see him. You took upon completing mundane tasks of your own, helping your mother with anything the Queen asked for (much to her polite gratitude, but she definitely knew why you were sulking around), and sometimes you even helped the cooks make food for the whole palace. Felix had teased you relentlessly once he'd seen you in your white frilly apron and you'd had to chase him out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon.

It was weird not having your best friend around so much. Chris was already married, being the heir to the throne, despite the fact there were rumours he would abdicate to Felix. Felix hadn't told you anything about that, and you were sure he would have. Even Chris leaving had left a hole in your heart - no more seeing his muscly eye-candy group of friends around. Well, they still showed up uninvited sometimes. You were pretty sure Changbin and Jisung were never actually invited, not even by Chris, but they lingered around him like they were his little brothers, too.

"Hey, you've been making that daisy chain for like, twenty years," A familiar giggle chimed from above you, and you looked up. Ah yes, your Prince. You'd gotten so lost in memories that you'd been wasting a Saturday afternoon with him. Fuck, you're such an idiot. Felix was looking down at you in your position in his lap, your head nestled on top of his crossed legs in the dress slacks he was supposed to wear everyday. He was wearing a white silk shirt on top of it, billowing in the summer breeze, but the top two buttons were still undone due to the heat of the sun. The summer always made your Prince's freckles shine more on his tan skin, the fawn dots even extending to the exposed skin on his chest. Needless to say, you waited impatiently for the hot season to come around every year. His teeth were gleaming in his smile, radiating sunshine and the gleam bouncing off of the bleach blonde mullet he'd managed to convince his mother to let him have.

You had to deflect. He couldn't know you were upset at not seeing him, although you were nearly certain he must have worked it out already. You shrugged dismissively, looking back at the daisy chain in your hands. Your thumbnails were stained with green from the plant stems, but you were still determined to finish it. You were making it for him, as a crown, because you knew he'd keep it until the flowers wilted, and then he'd get the flowers pressed and he'd put them in his scrapbook. He was such a good friend. His scrapbook was full of mementos of the two of you, even sometimes extending to the whole group - you and Felix, your friends, and Chris and his friends. It was mostly full of just the two of you, though.

"Sorry, Lixie. I guess I'm not all there today. Sorry," You mumbled. "What were you saying?"

"I was saying about Rochester and how he's a possessive asshole- no, you know what, that's not important. What's on your mind, sugarplum?" The cheesy nickname worked exactly how he intended it to, making you giggle and your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You nudged his tummy softly with your elbow, the silk brushing against your skin and making goosebumps rise on your arms. Felix dog-eared the page of the book that he was reading from and shut it softly, placing it beside you both. It was one habit of Felix's that you absolutely hated - like, how could he sleep with a clear conscience knowing that he had creased the delicate pages of so many classics? You'd given him so many bookmarks over the years, even personalised ones that you'd crafted in your spare time with both of your names on, but he always lost them or claimed he'd forgotten them in your book club outings. He leaned back on his palms, smiling down at you fondly. You shifted, turning slightly to see him better. You felt the soft cotton of the navy and white plaid picnic blanket brush against the bottom of your bare legs. You weren't really allowed to wear short skirts, or low cut tops, but on a summer's day like this you were permitted to wear a knee length skirt, so long as it was a thick fabric. Nothing too revealing was allowed.

You hummed in response to him, finding him still staring at you. "You want me to be honest, Pixie?"

Felix giggled at his own cheesy nickname, then nodded eagerly, strands of hair falling over his face before he pushed them back. His forehead had a thin sheen of sweat adorning it. "I always want you to be honest with me."

You ignored the butterflies causing a storm in your stomach over the statement. He was so understanding, so sweet - he always had been, like when he would bandage up your scraped knees or comfort you when something went wrong in your favourite TV show. He was even understanding during one of your many nights of debauchery, when you'd all been playing Seven Minutes in Heaven like the horny teenagers you were and you'd been picked to go in with Felix. You'd been bright red, stuttering and giggling nervously about how you'd never had your first kiss and Felix understood, rubbing your arm softly with his dainty hand and insisting you didn't have to do anything that you weren't ready for. You were so embarrassed, but he made you feel so at ease, and you'd both sat in the storage closet and gossiped about Chris instead.

That was the moment you'd fallen in love with him, you think. You were fifteen.

"I'm worried," You admitted, finally letting the flower chain drop from your fingertips and onto your tummy. Felix instantly shot up. His smile had fallen, and he was now looking at you with a concerned look, brushing hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear. The butterflies started fluttering even faster, if it was possible. You looked up into his brown eyes, and you looked at his freckles, thinking about the many times you'd tried to count every single one. This was your best friend. This was the love of your life. Your Prince, as you affectionately called him in your head. You could be honest with him. If you couldn't, who could you be truthful with? "I'm worried because I know you're getting married soon. We barely see each other as it is anymore, and I miss you, to be honest. It will be soon, won't it?"

Felix hummed. He nodded thoughtfully, eyes drifting to the daisy chain on your tummy. You saw a small smile at the end of his lips as his fingers brushed over it. He knew it was for him. He'd made you many over the years, too, and you'd kept them in your own scrapbook, despite it being much emptier than his. "It will be soon. My mother is picking the right candidate at the moment. But..."

You furrowed your eyebrows. He hadn't looked back at you, still gazing at the daisy chain and beginning to rub reassuring circles on your side. "... But?"

The smile finally formed on his lips. "You do realise you're her top option, right?"

You shot up from his lap, eyes widening. Felix bit his lip, holding in a laugh. He was laughing at you, that bastard, but it did make sense. You were the Queen's favourite, and she knew how close you and Felix were. She wasn't a nasty or a ruthless Queen. She was a people person, she always donated money to charity and the homeless rating in your country was literally almost zero. She'd done so much for people since she was in power, and she never cared about status - not that it had ever affected you, but she did treat everyone as her equals. She was like Felix in that way, a sweetheart, and she always permitted you and Felix to go on journeys wherever you wanted, so long as you kept safe and there was a guard in the area, just in case. There was one in the meadow with you now, but you couldn't even see them from where you were sitting. She was just... so cool, down to earth. She understood what it was like to be young, within reason.

You were flustered. Your brain had instantly gone to thinking of getting married to Felix, spending nights with him but not in the way you used to, and even... Well, you had to consummate the marriage, didn't you? You were extremely inexperienced in that department, save for a few drunken childish kisses with Chris' friend Changbin when you were just a bit younger, but you still found your mind racing and going through your deepest, darkest fantasies. Fantasies that you would never entertain outside of shoving a hand down your underwear in your bed at night and whining into the satin pillows. You had to hide that you were thinking about that, what the fuck is wrong with you? Time to deflect.

"Well, she does love me," You said boldly. Felix shook his head, punching you in the arm, perhaps a bit harder than he meant to because you let out a hiss and punched him back too hard, in the leg. His smile dropped, groaning and grabbing the spot on his shin where you'd hit him. "But, would you be okay with that, Lixie? It's... me. We'd be like... you know."

"Married? Well, yeah," Felix laughed, still holding his leg. You sighed, giving him a flat look. You needed to keep yourself occupied, so you picked up the daisy chain on the blanket and started to fiddle with it again, threading it through with nimble fingers. Felix finally let go of his leg, throwing himself onto his side so he was lying down on the blanket and facing you. He'd started to fiddle with the cover of the book. Another thing you were getting prepared to tell him off about. "I know what you mean. Honestly, though? I can't think of anyone better to do it with," You felt yourself suppressing a smile at his words, said lowly in that deep voice of his. Everytime he said something like that, your brain instantly went to shit, he liked me back, and you couldn't have that showing on your face when you knew deep down that wasn't the truth. He was unattainable- no, wait, now he wasn't that unattainable, now that you've actually stopped being angsty and depressing and actually thought about it. "I mean, you are my best friend, sugarplum."

You let out a fake laugh at his use of that stupid nickname again, and it seemed to placate him. Best friend. Yeah. Because one thing you hadn't thought about during your insane train of thought, one thing you had always considered and had been the main factor in not confessing to him, was that you couldn't risk ruining the friendship you had built up with him for sixteen years.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Unattainable. He was unattainable. You felt yourself mulling over that thought over and over as you paced in your bedchambers, in your silly Disney pyjamas that now barely fit you and you would never let anyone see. You had no one you could even talk to about this. It was clearly royal intel, secret information, and the only person you could have possibly talked to now never comes around anymore because Chris decided to get fucking married and now spends most of his time boning his wife for an heir. Or just because he likes boning her, you weren't sure, but Felix told you that he'd heard enough through the walls to know that boning was definitely occuring every night. Anyway, Changbin wasn't around much anymore, and he was your top confidant - bar Felix.

You liked living in the palace, but would you like living there as a Princess? Well, fuck yeah, obviously. It was like something out of The Princess Diaries, one of your favourite films which you and Felix had watched over and over. He hated it. You had a good, solid reputation. You were a high member of society due to your mother's job, and you and your mother were even placed on the royal side of the palace for your living quarters. You had a massive bedroom, an extravagant en suite with a relaxing bathtub and a sitting room with a huge TV that you and your mother always curled up in front of. How could it even get any better? You had seen Felix's room, when you were younger, but it kind of became unspokenly forbidden when you got to your teenage years, lest something gets out of hand. You understood it, actually. You'd been going through enough hormones to know that you had definitely come dangerously close to propositioning him a few times.

You had propositioned Changbin, obviously. You two had your first kisses together, and also a few drunken kisses, but you'd ended up as just friends. He was probably the only one who knew about your feelings for Felix, and he admitted you weren't his type anyway. You were sure he was in love with Felix's friend, Hyunjin, but you never commented on the way he looked at Hyunjin like he'd hung the stars in the sky. You couldn't really say anything either, knowing full well that you looked at Felix the same.

You needed to speak to Changbin. The unbearable amount of anxiety at not knowing was mounting in you. But it hit you, then, in the middle of your pacing and chewing on your thumbnail. You looked at the copy of Jane Eyre that Felix had given you, placed on your bed. Your mother knew. She had to have known you were a choice, surely, and she hadn't even told you?

You shook your head, resuming pacing. You couldn't blame her. Felix wasn't even meant to tell you. It made sense, though - you'd received pretty much the same education as a royal, and you and Felix were inseparable. You knew you had the etiquette, the social skills (thanks to Felix). You were pretty much a Princess without being a Princess. It had to be you, right?

Did you want it to be you?

You threw yourself onto your bed, wrapping the soft pillow around your head and screaming incoherently into the fabric. It didn't help. Who were the other choices? You thought of other girls who lingered around the palace, ones that had definitely had crushes on your Prince growing up and had given him fleeting glances with blushed cheeks and an agape mouth. None of their names even came to mind. Maybe a Princess from another country, for a marriage of creating alliances? You could see the Queen considering that. She was always very logical, but you also knew she had her son's best interests in mind. Chris had married a Princess from a different Kingdom, actually, but his marriage wasn't even arranged. He'd been in love with her since they were teenagers, and they could only meet once or twice a year in arranged legal meetings. You remember them having perhaps not so quiet dates together. Everyone knew, and when they announced their engagement everyone was happy but not surprised. Felix had taken too long to find a wife, and even the thoughtful Queen couldn't let that slide. People were asking questions, personal questions about his demeanour and whether he was off putting, and she couldn't deflect the questions for much longer.

You hadn't even noticed you'd drifted off, and you woke up to your face still smushed in the pillow. You immediately inhaled sharply upon waking up, taking in the light outside. You'd drooled all over your pillow, leaving a huge wet patch and your hair was knotted every which way, making you look like you'd been dragged backwards down the hedge. Damn. Thinking too hard has taken its toll on you, really.

A knock on the door made you spring up from your bed, smoothing down your hair with one hand, before another three knocks came in succession and you paused your movements. It was yours and your mother's secret knock - one knock, then three quick ones after. She'd seen you in worse states. Much worse states, even hungover states that you'd cried over while she held a bucket to your head and had promised to keep it a secret. You padded over to the door, opening it slightly just to make sure it was in fact, her. It was, obviously. Not even Felix knew your secret knock.

She came in and sat on the big armchair in front of the fire. Neither of you had said anything. You stood awkwardly, wringing your hands. She finally looked at you, a kind look on her face.

"I have two things to say," She smiled. You loosened up a bit, realising that it was just your mother. She'd always been stuck by you. It had been only the two of you, after all. It was all you knew. You nodded, rushing over to sit cross legged in front of her like a child. "First of all, the Queen would like to meet with you in an hour. Second of all, you're seriously still wearing those Dumbo pyjamas? The legs aren't even long enough anymore, I can see your knees, they're meant to be trousers not shorts-"

You blinked owlishly. Her rant went in through one ear and out the other, before she realised you weren't listening. She sighed. You blinked again, pulling the ends of your pyjama trousers absentmindedly to try and make them longer. "The Queen... wants to meet with me?"

Your mother nodded. She wasn't giving anything away by her face, but she definitely knew. She knew. She knew what you were going to be told. God, why couldn't she just ignore her job duties for once and be a fucking mother? You chided yourself mentally, she was a great mother. But you were frustrated. You needed to know now, not in an hour!

"Just... just me, and her?" You questioned, cocking your head to the side. Your mother shook her head, fingernails picking at a loose thread on her skirt. She was avoiding eye contact. What the fuck is going on?

Oh God, it's not you, is it? Fuck.

"Felix will be there," Your mother stated. She jumped up sharply. "I'll help you pick an outfit, dear. Come." She beckoned you to the armoire in the corner and you followed dutifully.

Your mother began to flick through pieces of fabric hanging off of hangers, and you tried to ignore the anxiety now mounting again in the pit of your stomach.

You so badly wanted it to be you. Just for once, you wanted to be selfish.

An hour later, on the dot, you stood outside the main hall. It was where everyone - royalty and staff alike - ate food together. That was, again, one of the kind Queen's rules. It was also where her throne was, where she had meetings with people. You'd never been on the receiving end of such a formal meeting, but one of the Queen's maids had come and collected you from your room five minutes before the allocated time. You'd managed to run a brush through your hair, thank God, and your mother had put you in a baby blue pinafore dress that came down to mid-knee on top of a white long sleeved turtleneck. The turtleneck was far too warm for the weather, but you knew the Queen would appreciate the conservative outfit. You stared down at the Mary Jane's on your feet.

You shut your eyes, trying to control your breathing, before realising you really couldn't afford to be late. Maybe you'd fucked up and done something wrong. You raised your hand, knocking softly on the door, but it swung open with the small force of your knock. The Queen sat on her throne, flipping through the pages of a book. Your Prince stood behind her, leaning over the throne, pointing at certain pages and giggling. She was smiling fondly at the pages, rubbing her fingertips over certain ones and mumbling statements to her son. She'd began to age slightly, with wrinkles adorning her eyes and mouth, but she didn't look any less beautiful. She had long, dark hair and freckles, just like Felix, but her smile was as kind as Chris'.

Oh? They seemed happy, at least.

You cleared your throat. The Queen, her Majesty, looked up at you and smiled acknowledgingly, shutting the book on her lap. She beckoned for you to come in and you did a small curtsy before shuffling into the lavish room. You could smell the kitchen from here, and you knew the cooks were whipping up something fierce by the enticing smell of it. You hadn't had time to have breakfast, because you'd slept in, and lunch was still around two hours away. You hoped your stomach wouldn't grumble too loud as you eventually approached the throne.

Felix smiled at you. He was wearing a similar pair of dress slacks to yesterday, but this time his silk shirt was a baby blue, the Kingdom's colours. A silver chain rested on his neck and you took note of the earrings dangling from his ears - another impulse decision you'd both done when you were younger. You know Felix had gotten in trouble for it at first, but the Queen seemed to be buying him a lot of expensive earrings lately. She knew what it was like to be young, after all. You smiled back awkwardly, rubbing your sweaty hands on your pinafore. It was then you realised you were in the Kingdom's colours too. Very patriotic of your mother.

"You want some tea, sugarplum?" Felix's voice drew you out of your thoughts, and you winced at the nickname. In front of his mother? In front of the Queen? Seriously? Your eyes seemed to convey a similar message to him, a flat glare, but he simply giggled. You saw him pouring from a teapot into a dainty teacup, and reverted your eyes to the Queen. She was still looking down at the book in her lap, and you looked down at it in confusion.

It was the scrapbook Felix made for the two of you. It was full of pictures from when you were younger to now, full of cinema tickets from secret outings and full of pressed flowers. Some of your favourite book quotes had even made it into there, scrawled in both of your handwritings. Even your school graduation pictures were in there. You'd been sent to a private school for the upper society, obviously, but you still had a normal graduation - albeit small, and full of snobby people.

"Thank you for meeting me, your Majesty," You were babbling in awkwardness. Oh, God. It was like word vomit, you couldn't stop it. "I'm really glad to meet with you today. I'm just wondering, have I done something wrong? You never ask to meet me."

The Queen laughed, her eyes forming crescent moons exactly the same as Felix's. Felix appeared at your side then, handing you a small teapot with what looked like peach tea in it. Your favourite, because of course, your Prince remembers that. You awkwardly shifted on one foot to the other, taking small sips of the tea to try and cool your nerves and almost screaming because it was still scalding hot. Felix was trying to hold in a laugh beside you, you could tell without even looking at him. Bastard.

"You haven't done anything wrong, sweetheart," The Queen's voice was soft, and she was now looking at you, taking in your outfit. She nodded approvingly. "You look lovely, very sophisticated. I believe I've made the right choice."

Your cheeks burned red. No. Fucking. Way. "T-The right choice? Do you mean...?"

The Queen beckoned over one of her staff members and they scurried over in a similar manner to the way your mother would have done. They placed a box in her hands, a small black velvet box that looked like it could be opened seamlessly. A... ring box? "I apologise, sweetheart. I've kept you in the dark a little bit with all of this. Would you bring her a chair, dear? A comfortable one."

The staff member scuttled over to grab a small chair with a red pillow on top of it and placed it behind you. You looked to your left side, still in shock, and the staff member simply smiled and motioned to the chair. You muttered a thanks in acknowledgement and sat on the pillow. Damn, the chair was comfortable. Felix was still standing, watching you hold your teacup awkwardly in a sweaty hand. He looked like he was about to die of laughter. God, you hated him so much, but you also really didn't. He just loved to tease you.

Maybe he would in bed, too-

"So, as you probably know, our favourite boy hasn't found someone to court yet," The Queen began speaking once you were sat down. Felix groaned, and his mother simply laughed. "Hush, now, sweetheart."

"Mum, you said you wouldn't be mean-"

Their dynamics always amazed you. She took the piss out of him, to put it quite literally, but in such an eloquent manner it could be easily missed as them having a difficult relationship. They didn't. He was a mummy's boy, through and through. It was one of the things you loved about him. You could tell a lot about a man from the way he treated his mother.

"Felix, hush now," She admonished again, but the smile on her face didn't leave. Felix mumbled something and then went back over to the side to fiddle with the teapots. Good, he should feel awkward. You looked at her outfit, beautiful in an ornate sense, pearl clips pinning her long, dark hair up so you could see the freckles on her face that matched your Prince. "I took it upon myself to find Felix a bride. I hope you don't think I'm cruel for doing so, I do have my baby's best interests in mind."

Felix groaned, putting his face in his hands. "'M not a baby-"

"You always will be to me, sweetheart. But it was time to get you courting, to get you married. I couldn't do that when you're always gallivanting discussing books with this one now, could I?" Your cheeks burned. You started to stutter out an apology, but she held up a hand to stop you. "Nonsense, sweetheart. Your friendship is one I've always admired. You're inseparable, and it is lovely to see you both so happy. You know that I value your mother highly, also."

You nodded, grinning. You felt a bit more at ease at the praise. The tea had also cooled down slightly too, so you started to sip it again, ignoring the way Felix was intently watching you with an evil smile to see if you'd burn your tongue again.

"Then, I thought about it. I thought, well, I do value your mother extremely highly, and you've been very helpful as of late. Obviously, that is because this one isn't taking up all of your time again," She nodded her head towards Felix. It was such an informal motion that you laughed in shock, and she giggled, a chiming similar to Felix's laugh that shouldn't have come from a middle aged woman who was literally the top of society. You still weren't completely getting at what she was saying, but you were enjoying the conversation. It was just praise, praise, praise. Amazing. "So, I want to offer you something. I want you to know you can decline, and you and your mother will remain here in your current roles. It would make me very happy, however, if you agreed to marry Felix."

You blinked. Okay, yeah, you kind of knew that's what she was getting at, but still - coming out of her mouth you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Your eyes flitted to Felix, who was simply nodding at you in encouragement, eyes widened. He... what, had he convinced her with that scrapbook? He wanted to marry you? Ugh, he probably just wanted to marry you so he didn't have to marry someone he didn't know. He doesn't even know you like him like that. But... a little part of you wanted to be selfish. You scratch his back by not letting him marry someone he's not close with, and he scratches yours by at least pretending to be in love with you. Could you deal with that, though? The pretending?

You nodded in acknowledgement at what the Queen said, looking at your tea again. The tea leaves were floating around in the liquid, mocking you, as if saying you were so fucking dumb. Of course you were going to say yes. "Um... may I ask, your Majesty, what would happen if I said no?"

You refused to look at Felix. The Queen hummed, looking down at the box in her lap. Oh, that was a ring box, definitely. Funny, in a weird way. "Well, this way, if you got married, you'd be able to spend a lot of time together. You'd see each other a lot. You'd be happy. If you decline... I'd have to find someone else for him to-"

"I'll do it," You grimaced at cutting the Queen off, but you couldn't even bear to think of him with someone else. Instead of chiding you, she beamed from ear to ear, and Felix rushed over to you.

He leaned down, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in for a hug. He felt so soft, all silk and soft skin, but you knew what was underneath that shirt. You'd seen it, and now you were definitely going to see everything else. He smelled of lavender and orange blossom, that expensive perfume he's always spraying on himself, but you could smell notes of the flowers in the meadow that were still left on his skin from yesterday.

Okay, yeah, you could get used to this.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You didn't get a proper engagement, but that was alright. You'd been given the ring pretty much straight away after your meeting, and when you'd got back to your room after lunch your mother was still there, but now she was gushing, almost bouncing off the walls.

The ring was beautiful. Even using that adjective felt like an understatement. It was clearly an heirloom, passed through generations. The gem in the middle was blue tourmaline, and whilst it matched the Kingdom's colour it was extremely rare - or so you thought, you weren't sure - and it was surrounded by a cluster of diamonds and placed on a thin gold band. You'd always dreamed of getting engaged, even letting yourself think about getting engaged to Felix sometimes, when you were feeling particularly selfish. You always thought it would happen on the meadow, or on your guys' beach that you'd had less time to go to these days because it was further out. You didn't think you wanted it to be pretty lavish, just you two, so you weren't that angry about just being given the ring and told to prepare for an outing with Felix later on. He was your safe place, and you did want to talk privately about the engagement, so you weren't too angry.

You thought about it a lot, looking down at the gem glinting in the light. Your mother had left, and you were now just sitting at your vanity staring at your own hand. The public knew who you were. They knew you were Prince Felix's best friend, and more than a few people had deemed you two as soulmates, people from a similar status who were bound to fall in love and get married. Now, it just felt very one sided. You knew you were in love with Felix, and you'd agreed to the marriage with little thought, but now you felt a bit anxious. How were you going to pretend not to love him when you had to sleep next to him every night? Or when you had to go on dates with him? The engagement would be formally announced tomorrow, with the outing tonight being specifically for you to wear the ring in the public's eye and for you two to dial up the romance and get people speculating. The engagement party was planned to take place tomorrow night after the announcement, with everyone important there.

It was a beautiful ring. You just weren't sure you could pretend any more. You were sick of pretending to just view him as a friend.

When the night rolled by, you'd dressed in something a bit cosier - not too warm, because the nights weren't getting cold much anymore. You'd switched your pinafore and long sleeve for a thin knitted jumper and some long linen trousers, throwing a long but light jacket on top. You had to look sophisticated, respectful even. You deemed you looked alright after tucking the jumper into the trousers and adorning a belt, and when you swung the door open to your room, Felix was stood there.

He'd also put on a thin jumper in lieu of his thin billowing silk shirts, but he still looked just as good in the blue cable knit staring you in the eyes. He'd even put on a long coat just like yours. It was like you were matching, but you hadn't intended to. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and you swore you'd never seen him look happier, not even when you'd moan in delight eating his homemade brownies or when you'd go sick after eating too many of said brownies because they were too good. His hair was neatly styled, pulled back in a stylish half up-half down ponytail, with a few strands dangling in his face.

"Hey, sugarplum," He spoke, voice low. You groaned, pushing him out of the doorway and leaving the room, shutting the door behind you. He laughed in delight at your annoyance and linked arms with you. It was then you noticed he had a flower in his hand - just one stem, but the meaning was enough to almost make you cry.

"Oh my God, Felix, is that-"

"Baby's breath," He unlinked his arm with you, passing the stem to you. When you two were younger, you'd been entranced by the baby's breath growing in your meadow and you'd both been determined it was the work of fairies. It was too beautiful to be normal, and you and Felix had collected them endlessly until there was basically none left. You called them fairy flowers, and that's sort of where Felix's nickname had come from - your mother had called him Pixie affectionately when he'd revealed that he really thought these flowers were part of a fairy's little garden. He pretended to hate it, but you know he secretly loved it when you called him that. Chris had told you.

"You remembered. We used to call them fairy flowers," You brushed your hand over the flower, grinning at the softness. Felix chuckled, whispering a 'yeah'. He quickly pinched the flower from you again, tucking it behind your ear. You quite literally swooned, smiling up at his own beaming face. It got a bit awkward for you then though, because you couldn't even pretend not to be in love with him now, before you're even married. You found yourself in a state of word vomit again. "Jeez, dial down the PDA, Romeo. We're not even outside yet."

You walked off, leaving Felix trailing after you laughing at your words. "'Jeez'? What are you, a frat boy? You need to stop reading fanfictions, you know," He slung his arm around your waist, leading you out of the palace grounds. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him, but you leaned in closer to his touch. Tonight was meant to just be a late night walk, full of holding hands and perhaps acting like normal people getting some street food from a dodgy merchant that would give you a bad tummy for a few days. Once you'd left the ornate gates, with one of the guards waving you both goodbye, you started to walk down the street and into the busier part of town. The palace wasn't too far from the hustle and bustle of the city, because again, the Queen apparently loved to be normal. People came to the palace all the time and took pictures and whatnot, but they were never allowed into the actual building. That was too far, and a danger to security.

You both began to walk, feeling the much cooler breeze blow through your hair and rattle the petals upon your ear. It was a bit ticklish, but he'd put it there, so it was staying there. His arm stayed around your waist, but it was comforting. You'd done stuff like this a million times. You were both extremely affectionate and loved touch anyway, so it wasn't strange. Of course, it felt different. You were engaged to him now. You could like... kiss, and stuff. You felt like a high school girl kicking her legs and twirling her hair over her crush, but you decided you were going to allow it because you were still young, and still yet to have a lot of your firsts with someone.

Once you got to a street where there were a few people milling around, Felix motioned to a wooden bench on the side of the path. Overgrown moss and bushes wrapped around it, but it still looked quite cute. "Wanna sit down here for a bit? I think we should probably have a chat, you know. About everything," When you looked at him, he looked embarrassed for once, strange given his usual brazen nature. You found yourself wanting to comfort him, so you nodded, sitting down on the bench and smoothing your trousers down. He sat next to you, turning to face you on the bench and fiddling with the cuffs of his coat.

"Felix, are you okay about marrying me?" You blurted out. "I mean, I know you probably don't want to marry anyone else, but you won't even get the chance to try to get to know everyone. You're stuck with me."

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. His head snapped up to you. "Um, what the fuck? You're my best friend. I am absolutely okay with getting married to you."

Your chest heaved. You felt reassured, but still not completely relieved. "But... Lixie. We'll have to kiss. And we'll be sharing a bed. You know we have to consummate the marriage, right?"

There was that smirk on his face again. You regretted ever saying anything. "You've been thinking about having sex with me?"

You groaned, putting your head in your hands. You heard Felix chuckling next to you, his shoulders shaking the whole rickety bench. You finally looked up at him, punching him in the leg again. His laughter ceased as he yelped. Good, bastard. "You know what I mean, Lix. We are literally going to have to, or the marriage won't be like, real. Or something, I don't know."

"You do know, you know everything. You're smarter than me," Felix chided you. He sighed, leaning to put his head on your shoulder. "What are you actually worried about? Tell me."

"It's just..." You couldn't say it. But maybe you could, and phrase it differently. A conditional question, to answer the real question inside of you. "What if we fell in love?"

Felix hummed, shutting his eyes softly. "Then everyone would have been right about us."

"Y-You... you wouldn't mind it? What about our friendship?"

He rubbed his cheek against you comfortingly. "It would only be made better, sugarplum," He pulled back, grinning at you. Oh no. That smile meant a Dumb Felix comment was incoming. "Plus, I know you think I'm smoking hot, so-"

"Felix!" You whined. He stuck his tongue out at you cheekily, making you roll your eyes. You turned away from him, staring ahead at a large tree on the other side of the path.

"I mean, we are compatible. Would it be so bad?" He sounded insecure now. You looked at him. His eyes were gleaming from the moonlight, and he did look really nervous. Perhaps... he wants to know if you'd hate him if either of you caught feelings. He wants to know if you think it would ruin your friendship. Honestly? After that conversation, you didn't. You shook your head, smiling softly at him. He stuck his tongue out again, trying to lighten the mood, and you did it back. You both had a fit of giggles afterwards, hitting each other while laughing like you always do.

Then, you saw it. A distinctive flash of a camera behind Felix, towards the end of the path. Oh, yeah, you're meant to be like, loving it up right now. You grabbed Felix's arm, pulling him in.

"Wh- wha-"

You brought his ear to your mouth, looking down at it and whispering. "There's a reporter taking pictures behind you. Don't look, but we should probably be more affectionate."

Felix pulled away, nodding solemnly. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he spoke, then a lightbulb going off. "Kiss me."

"H- Huh?!"

"Or, I'll kiss you, I don't mind. But that would really prove a point, wouldn't it? So caught up in each other that we forget royal etiquette?" He'd leaned back more comfortably on the bench, slinging an arm behind you. His fingertips were dancing up your shoulder as you were turned to face him, faces only inches apart. You licked your lips. He licked his own. The flash appeared again. Oh, the reporter liked that.

"Felix... I don't know-"

"I know it's not your first kiss, sugarplum. Can't back out of kissing me now," You internally groaned at the mention of him knowing what you and Changbin had done. Fuck Changbin, stupid blabbermouth. Felix was smirking, looking at you.

"Fuck it. As long as it won't be awkward?"

"We're gonna have to kiss a lot more, may as well kiss now," He shrugged. You shrugged. He was right. Eventually, you nodded. His fingertips carried on tracing shapes on your shoulder - you managed to make out a flower, a heart, maybe even a cat's head. Or a dog's head, you weren't sure. His other hand went up to your chin, fingertips coming to lift your head up to be closer to him once again. His eyes went to yours, a silent question in those deep brown eyes, and you nodded in response.

With that, you were being kissed by your first love. Your one sided love, to be precise, but you actually couldn't find it in you to care. You didn't even realise the camera flashing repeatedly as you pressed your lips against his, a chaste but open mouthed kiss. His lips were extremely soft, and you fluttered your eyes shut and leaned in to get more. He obliged, hand now going to the back of your head to bring you in further. You whimpered at the dominance the grab showed, and he let out a sharp breath of air through his freckled nose in response. You wanted more, so much more. Your lips pressed against each other over and over, a little messy but you liked it like that. Just as you tried to get your tongue against his, he gently pulled away, with one more small peck to your nose.

You were embarrassed when you realised you'd tried to follow him for more kisses. You quickly avoided eye contact, and Felix elbowed you.

"Look at me!" He whined for attention. Ah yeah, same old Felix. You'd forgotten what he was like in that ten second kiss. He still had issues with wanting to be the centre of attention. You looked at him awkwardly, fists clenched in your sweaty palms. You almost felt bad the beautiful ring had to live there. Once you'd looked at him, his sad face fell and he smirked. "Good, huh?"

"W-Was I... good? I've only ever kissed Changbin," You admitted, grimacing. Felix sat up sharply, putting a hand on your knee. You almost flinched away to try and sedate your own sexual desires, but he would get suspicious.

"Uhhh, yes! It was good, I really enjoyed that. Thank you for doing that for me," Felix comforted. When you nodded in response, he grabbed your chin again and placed another peck on your lips. "I... honestly? I kind of wouldn't mind kissing you again."

The boy's boldness shocked you everyday, and you'd known him for sixteen years. "For... for practice, right? When we're married, we're gonna have to do it loads, so-"

"Yeah, yeah, one hundred percent. For practice," Felix agreed. He was nodding eagerly. He suddenly shifted, looking down at the watch on his wrist. "Aw, shit. We should probably head back. Wanna watch a film in your room when we get back?"

You grinned. Back to the same old. This was better, though now you knew you'd be thinking about being on your back with him on top of you making out while you were watching a film. Quickly, you realised something. "That will look so sus though, now that we're engaged."

"We'll keep it a secret," He wiggled, elbowing you. You found yourself laughing, jumping up to walk back to the palace. You held your outstretched hand to him.

"Your majesty?"

"Ah, yes, my fine maiden," Felix giggled, sliding off the bench to grab your hand. You both started to walk to the edge of the path, skipping along as if you had no cares in the world. You heard rustling, probably the sounds of the reporter leaving.

You hoped you'd done okay. You hoped you'd made it believable. Well, you probably had, given your actual feelings - but had Felix?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You'd woken up the next day with a piece of popcorn stuck to your forehead and another person snoring next to you. You blinked yourself awake drearily, leaning up on your palms and looking around your room. Your TV had turned onto standby, and you looked to your right. Felix was in your room. Felix was in your bed. You'd- oh, no. You'd totally just fallen asleep watching a movie, nevermind. Totally fine.

No, actually. Totally not fine!

You shrieked, grabbing Felix's slender waist and wiggling him awake. He'd borrowed a pair of your more comfortable clothes and the t-shirt had been just a bit too small, riding up with every move and now exposing nearly his whole tummy. You tried to ignore it, continuing to shake him awake. The piece of popcorn stuck to your forehead fell onto the bed with an unceremonious noise and you groaned. Eventually, after what felt like hours of shaking your best friend, he opened his eyes and gave you a wide smile, pulling you in for a cuddle. You ignored how lovely it felt and tried to get him to regain consciousness and morality.

"Felix."

"Hmm?"

"You are in my bed."

"I know, dummy- Oh." Felix shot up, nearly sending you flying off the bed. His hand landed on the piece of popcorn, crumbling it into your pristine white sheets. You tried not to cry. His eyes widened, staring at you. "What's the- have you checked your phone? What's the time?"

You shook your head, reaching over to grab your phone. You seldom went on your phone, preferring to read and spend time with Felix, but you had it in case of emergencies and also sometimes for TikTok, but you'd never admit that. You blinked. 11am.

You'd missed breakfast, but you also had zero missed calls or texts on your phone. No one had woken you? Weird. You flipped the screen to show Felix, and he leaned in closer. You were brandishing your wallpaper of the two of you on the beach last summer, but you didn't care. He grabbed your phone, entered your passcode and clicked on the phone app.

"No one even tried to wake us?" He asked. You shook your head. He laid back down, seeming weirdly reassured. You didn't question it, slinking up next to him and putting your head on his shoulder. He moved his arm accordingly, pulling you into his chest and still clicking random buttons on your phone. Eventually, he landed on the search tab, and typed in 'news'. Oh, shit. Was it announced?

Yep. In blaring headlines, multiple news media sources were now releasing reports with every single detail of the story, including pictures of the two of you last night. The titles were all similar, going along the lines of "the sweet Prince and beloved best friend confirmed to be engaged!" or "sophisticated best friend and the lovely Prince taking a romantic late night stroll!". You scoffed, clicking on one and scrolling down. The pictures were cute, to be honest. Some even showed the two of you laughing and hitting each other last night, or you two walking home hand in hand and skipping as if you were kids. One picture, however, is what stuck with you. It was the two of you mid-kiss, Felix's hand on the back of your head and his other holding your shoulder, keeping you in place. It was fucking hot.

"Damn, we look good, you know?" Felix mused, zooming in on the picture. You hummed. You did, you couldn't deny that. "My mum was so real for thinking of us getting married. Like, we totally look good together. Imagine our kids."

Imagine what we'll do to make kids, you thought, but you bit your tongue. You giggled, slapping Felix's chest playfully, then a thought came into your stupid lizard brain. "Hey, Lix?"

"Yeah?" He was still scrolling through an article, laughing at some of the sentences. Everyone loved the two of you, but a few were jealous that you'd managed to snag him. Good.

"Did you mean what you said last night? About practice?" Felix's thumb stopped on the screen. His eyes darted to you, his hair still mussed from sleep. He just stared at you, and you lost your nerve. "Sorry. Weird thing to say. I was just wondering-"

"No, not weird. I meant it. You wanna make out? For practice?" Felix locked your phone, chucking it to the end of the bed. You didn't have time to scold him for throwing your things around like that before his hand was carding in your hair, fingertips scratching at your scalp. God, you loved it when he did that. Your eyes shut in bliss. You totally forgot what he asked. "Hey, earth to sugarplum."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sure. For practice."

Okay, so you were totally being super selfish. But, you were going to be having sex with him soon. You could do a little making out to prepare, right? You were just a woman, after all. Nothing wrong with that. His fingers gripped your hair with a different intensity then, pulling at the strands slightly, and you choked back a whine. You opened your eyes, looking up at him.

He hummed, looking at you. He tilted his head to the side, thinking. "Maybe... yeah," He grabbed your arm, pulling you over him. He positioned you exactly how he wanted you, on top of him, straddling his hips. His dainty hands went to your waist, rubbing circles. "Yeah, like this. For practice."

"For practice," You agreed solemnly. You were beginning to think that maybe it wasn't for practice. Maybe he just wanted to. He scooted up, leaning up against the pillows so he was sat up and you were sat on top of him. You tried to ignore the fact that you could feel what was going on between his legs through your thin sleep shorts. You couldn't get too wound up during this, just in case it was just for practice. Knotting your hands into the fabric of his - your - white t-shirt, you leaned down, brushing your nose with his. You were being selfish, but bold, but mostly selfish.

Felix's eyes flitted down to your lips, leaning up to place a soft kiss there. You smiled softly, and he returned yours with a smile that could only be described as filled with fondness. You bit your lip, noticing the way his eyes honed in on your teeth and perhaps his grip tightened on your hips just a bit, but he'd always deny it.

"Lixie." You muttered. You were too shy. He knew exactly what you meant, and raised one hand up to grab at the back of your head. He brought your lips to his, attaching his mouth to yours in a way that was completely different from yesterday. Yesterday was for show, but this seemed personal, hungry almost. You decided you were going to take what you could get. You pressed your lips to his harder, making him choke out a noise of surprise. It was messy, again, open mouthed kisses that were nothing akin to precise or experienced, but you could get to know each other, get to know what you liked. Right at that moment, all you knew was that you liked him, and you would be so pissed off if he didn't let you get your tongue in his mouth like he did last night.

Your hands went up to his face, cradling his cheeks in your palms and slipping your tongue into his mouth. Your tongues brushed against each other, and you whined, hips kicking up just slightly before you managed to stop yourself. He grabbed your hips, flipping you over so he was on top of you, not breaking the kiss. His lips kept brushing against yours as his tongue entered your mouth, groaning at the feeling. You couldn't stop breathing heavily through your nose, your hands roaming up his back and landing on his hair, pulling him down to kiss you harder. Your lips felt bruised, swollen, but you never wanted to stop kissing him.

With that thought, he bit your lip, pulling away and letting it release against your teeth. You squirmed, licking your lips excessively to try and stop them feeling so swollen. Felix looked debauched, his hair even more tangled and his lips just as red and swollen as yours. His eyes were dark, staring down at you.

"Baby. Bestie. I'm sorry, but I'm- I'm sorry..." He whispered, his head going to the crook of your neck to place soothing kisses there. He was breathing heavily, shifting ever so slightly on top of you. You felt it then, what he was apologising for. His length was rock hard, the shaft pressing into your core and giving you just the slightest bit of stimulation. "'M so fucking hard, sugarplum, I'm sorry."

"I-It's okay, Lixie. I think I'm... I'm wet, too," You whispered, and he threw his head back, groaning. "Practice makes perfect, y'know. We can keep making out." Felix nodded eagerly, and he grabbed your thighs, linking them around his hips. He ducked to place a few more kisses on your neck, biting a little at the area where your throat met your jaw. You let out a moan, neck bearing to the opposite side to give him full access and he clearly approved, biting harder.

"Baby, c-can I just," He ground his hips into yours, groaning and stuttering his words out. He immediately stopped, looking down at you. "Can I? I can make us both feel good, no sex. We can just grind a little on eachother. I won't put it in, I promise-"

With that, a knock on the door interrupted you both. You were fully prepared to start swinging at whoever was on the other end. Felix looked like he was about to die, cheeks flushed and hair tangled every which way. You both stared at each other in disbelief. Okay, so you had kind of really lost yourself there, and now somebody is at the door while the nation's favourite Prince is currently on top of you grinding into you with full intent to cum. You'd only just announced your engagement. You could've got pregnant before you even got married. Jesus, what is wrong with you? You sighed, moving to sit up, and Felix moved off of you. He ran a hand through his knotted hair.

"I should... fuck, Felix, what do we do?" You knew you both looked the image of lust, lips kiss bitten and swollen and hair everywhere. You could even feel the wet patch in your sleep shorts. Shit, okay.

Felix looked to be holding back a laugh. You felt terrified, but you almost laughed too, in pure disbelief. You both covered your mouths before you shot off the bed, slipping your shorts off your legs and replacing them with a pair of longer trousers from your drawer. You honestly couldn't care less if he'd seen you in your underwear, you'd bathed together when you were younger. You motioned to the en suite dramatically and Felix ran in there instantly, still giggling quietly, locking the door behind him. You shook your head fondly as another knock was firmly punched against the door. Jesus, couldn't even give you a second?

"Coming!" You called, walking over to the door and trying your best to fake yawn loudly so they thought you'd just woken up. When you opened the door, Chris stood there, a happy smile on his face.

"Okay, I'm so coming in! Why didn't you tell me you and Felix are serious now?" He pushed you back into the room, throwing himself onto your bed dramatically. It was quite funny, seeing him lying on the bed you'd just accosted his brother on. He was resting against the messy sheets in a perfect suit and tie. You shook your head, letting out a laugh.

"Okay, we're not. It's an arranged thing, Chris. We're still only best friends," You chose your words wisely, fiddling with the drawstring on your trousers. Chris hummed, giving you a strange look. Changbin. Fucking Changbin, he'd definitely said something. God. "And, why didn't you ask your own brother this? I'm simply an accessory."

"Because my own brother is currently locked inside your bathroom pretending he's not there?" Chris replied instantly. Your eyes widened.

"No, he's not. Why would you even think-"

"Okay, well. I know he is, so," Chris shrugged. You sighed.

"Felix, you can come out," You said. The lock slowly clicked open and Felix emerged, looking sheepish. Thank God the shock of Chris arriving had made his boner go down, so now he didn't look too lustful. He'd also clearly ran your brush through his hair before coming out. You couldn't say the same for yourself.

Felix threw himself down on the bed next to you and Chris, groaning and stretching his limbs. "Did anyone ask where we were?"

Chris chuckled. He fiddled with the wedding band on his left hand. "Yep. I made up an excuse, said you'd gone out for a walk again and were getting food out. I had a feeling you'd both be spending the night together. Princess Diaries again?"

You shook your head. "Nope. It's too real now."

"Mind you, I don't think there was this much 'practising' going on between Mia and her potential husband in the second one," Chris looked up from his hand. You averted your eyes.

"Dunno what you mean-"

"How much did you hear, what the fuck?!" Felix shrieked. Oh, great, thanks.

"I mean, the walls are thin, dude. I heard a lot on my way down the corridor. But, I'm glad you two are having fun with it, at least. Arranged marriages can be shit sometimes," Chris stretched similarly to Felix, before reaching down and clapping Felix on his back harshly. Felix groaned, throwing himself around the bed in protest. "Anyway, I should be off now. Congratulations again, guys. You should probably get ready for the party tonight though."

Chris began to walk out of the room, and Felix stood up.

"I should... go. With him. You know?" You nodded in response to his statement. He waited until Chris had rounded the corner, and leaned down, pressing a swift peck to your lips. You squeaked in surprise, cheeks burning crimson. He giggled, giving you a sweet wave and running off. "See you later, bestie!"

You wondered if you’d ever be permitted to drop the bestie, maybe once you’re married to him, but it couldn’t come soon enough. You wanted to let yourself be selfish just this once.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[jomamaofficial]

He Used to Come Back (Childe x GN!Reader Angst Oneshot)

A/N: HELLO MY LOVELY TOES. How have you all been? I've recently been hyperfixating on the Genshin Impact fanfiction fandom (I stopped playing the game a long time ago) and I've decided to write up some slightly self-indulgent angst with our favorite ginger, budget!Ed Sheeran 😩😩. PS: PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND ME REQUESTS. CW: Swearing, fainting, pulse checking. TW: Very slight implications of self harm, mentions of blood, and a death scare. Masterlist Word Count: 1444 Summary: You knew what you signed up for when you started seeing the eleventh harbinger of the Fatui. Restless nights were spent waiting for the eleventh harbinger of the Fatui. People warned against your budding relationship, claiming it would become one-sided very quickly. You accepted it but never expected it to die out into ash too quickly... So what happened when one day passed, 2 days passed, one week passed and the second week is about to begin. And he’s still not back?

——————————————————————————————————

Pine shutters crashed against the frosted glass, a gust of ice and hail occupying the perimeters of the house. It cut through the thick silence hanging heavy in the air, making you flinch, your hand flying to your chest. 

It’s just the shutters, you had to remind yourself, pulling the thick blanket tighter around your frame, your teeth chattering, your limbs reluctant to move.

Dormant eyes scanned the dormant rooms. 

He’ll be back, he always comes back…

It was a fragment of hope, but it provided comfort. 

Like the comfort his mother’s hand-knitted blanket provided on a regular Snezhnayan night. 

Except tonight wasn’t a regular night.

The gale penetrated through the unconditional love laced in the blanket; so much so that even the soft yarn couldn’t withstand the tumultuous temper of the Archons above. 

Another crash, another flinch, and your empty thoughts were forced back to reality: the window was still wide open, outdoor sleet collecting on the hardwood flooring. So you carried on, tiptoeing around the puddles of snow, careful to avoid getting your last clean pair of socks wet. 

Fighting against the brutal winds of his motherland, the shutters were finally closed.

A foreign land it was, Snezhnaya– just as beautiful but cold as its citizens. But it was home, and home was with him. Even though Childe wasn’t home. 

The eleventh harbinger of the Fatui, loyal lieutenant to the Tsaritsa herself. Lord Tartaglia, code name Childe, a title that held the world’s burden on your lover's bruised and cut shoulders. It was a title you spent days memorising. Of course, you could never tell anyone you knew him– something about confidentiality he said. But you ingrained it on your tongue, learned it by heart because when the time would finally come, and you were Tartaglia’s Wife, the restrictions would no longer be imposed on you. 

You could finally talk about him freely to your heart's content. 

 The hands of the clock were turning faster than you wanted. A calendar beside it, diligently crossed out with thin red ink, served as a painful reminder of his absence. 

One single date was circled, embellished with exclamation marks.

“When”, you mumbled, taking a long deep breath. Your senses were flooded with a subtle numbness that weighed on your eyelids like the unnecessary load of lethargy. 

“When will you be back…?” 

—

Leather gloves grasped your hand, frantically searching for a pulse. 

A voice could be heard in the distance, somewhat familiar but deeper and slower than usual. It seemed to be saying something. 

Your eyes flickered under the glowing light held close to your face, a hand, stark cold against your heated cheek, tilting your face to the side. A strong and skilled hand crossed your right leg over your left, and your entire body was turned to the side. Your mouth was coaxed open, a finger on your pulse. 

“Y/N… Y/N, wake up…” the voice insisted, slowly losing the commanding edge to it. A voice– a man’s voice, you identified. Strained and well articulated… 

Your name… how’d it know your name…?

You gasped for fresh air, your arm pulling away from his hand. 

“Childe…” you faltered, his name bursting out in a short breath of air, pulled from your lungs as a desperate way to gain consciousness. “You’re back”, you finished, a gentle, feeble smile stretching across your face. 

Fatigue ran through every inch of his body, blood smeared all across his worn armour, his uniform hanging with shame on his bruised body. His fingers pinched his nose-bridge, his jaw clenching tight. Childe pushed his hair back and looked at you, dead in the eye. 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Y/N?” 

Disbelief replaced the smile, content eyes scrunching in confusion. 

“What…?” you asked. “Where’s this- where’s this coming from, love?”

“Oh cut it out, for fucks sake”, he snapped back, his face stoic, nimble fingers sliding his gloves off and disposing them to the side. 

“I thought you were dead, Y/N. Dead.” 

He stopped for a second, catching his breath. 

“Listen, all a man wants to do is sleep. I thought he got to my fucking family when I saw you on the floor, and no one even knows about us, Y/N. Everyone knows my brother”, he condemned, light hearted enough to laugh it off but oblivious enough to dampen your waterline. 

“Archons, the water works again huh?” he grimaced, exhausted, cocking his head elsewhere. “I’m sorry, okay? You don’t know what it’s like to be a harbinger, you were just… worried, I guess?” he retorted, shrugging his shoulders with his lips pressed together. “I don’t know why I was blaming you”, he chuckled. “You know what, It’s fine sweetheart, just… go to sleep, okay?” 

You watched as he stalked out of the living room, walking away. 

“Childe, I was worried about you”, you rasped, eyes low. “I thought you were dead.”

He stopped, pivoting around– his breathy, low laughter piercing through every fragment of sanity left inside of you. 

“You? Worried? About me dying?”, he jeered, looking around in amusement. “I don’t think you remember who I am, honey. Did you hit your head or something? Maybe you should get that checked sweetheart~”

Sweetheart. You recognised that word from every argument you had. That tone, laced in honey as a disguise to hide his true cruel intentions. You recognised it all from every argument you had. An argument that never ended in a compromise. Reasoning with him was as effective as talking to a brick wall. 

“I’m the eleventh har-”

“The eleventh harbinger, devoted to the Tsartitsa as her loyal lieutenant, Tartaglia”, you faded out, bitter and tired. “I know exactly who you are, Childe. But you’ve forgotten who you are.”

Scoffing and rolling his eyes, he folded his hands across his chest. 

“Listen Y/N, I’m not gonna stand here listening to you telling me who I am. Especially when you’ve so nicely interrupted me and told me exactly who I am.”

“Don’t try that tone with me, Childe”, you snapped, looking up at him with tear-stained cheeks, a fresh set of tears replacing the dried ones. “It’s been thirteen days…” you sniffled, spitting out each word. “And you still weren’t back.” 

He averted his eyes from yours, refusing to entertain this conversation. 

“Do you know how worried I was?” you stressed, the taste of bile scraped at your throat. 

Months of putting up with his attitude beat a gaping hole in your chest in the form of words you could never say, all just to suppress yourself with only one thought in mind that if you said something now– anything now, he’d leave you in his empty house without a word, and without a doubt, in a split second because he never needed you. It was only you who needed him and if he left it would leave you in shambles only because… 

Only because you ever so foolishly stood up for yourself. 

“I’m not a member of Fatui…” you croaked, fighting back the hiccups of tears. 

A shiver picked at your spine, the house more silent than ever. And when the last tear of heartbreak evaporated, and the new stream of pure anger and resentment took over, you lost the sense of tone and its consequences. 

“But that doesn’t make you immortal!” you screamed, the echo of your voice traveling through the corners of the house at such a volume that the harbinger was taken aback. Taken aback with a racing heart, and a body that was forced to step back. 

“You could have died for fucks sake, Childe, you could have fucking died!” 

Your hands fell to the side, knees dropping to the ground, the drop searing through the bones of your calf down to your toes and up to your hips. But it wasn’t as painful as the sting that burned your throat. It was a raw cut inside the very flesh that constructed your neck, and the stunned silence brought out the shallow pants of an exasperated cry. You never wanted to yell at him but how could you not when weeks and months of overwhelming fear welled up in your throat. 

Seconds passed by and they seemed like hours. 

Childe was conflicted.

Would he protect his ego and stare at you as you stifled and heaved, or would he take you in his arms and tend to your bleeding knee, apologising in between kisses? 

When you glanced up at his pointed glare, you knew his answer all too well.

“And this is why you’ll never be a harbinger”, he seethed, followed by a loud bang of the same door he entered through not so long ago. 

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hmm, I've been thinking about MC who can knit/crochet.

I thought this up with specifically Asra in mind since we know he can knit as well. Maybe on lazy days they both lounge around and make silly clothes for Faust (and maybe matching lovers bracelets?). I also think they get really unique yarn textures/colors on their trips, cant wait to come back home and brainstorm what to make with them(Fausts wardrobe never runs out. she's a fashionesta, all the others snakes stare in envy!)

Though I can also see MC knitting tiny hats and socks for Malak, and maybe a human sized version for Julian so they can match. julian insists MC make one for themselves as well so they can all match together. (I see him as an enjoyer of cheesy matching couples outfits, if MC makes one with an inside joke/romantic phrase on the shirt, he will not take it off until its basically a part of his skin)

Or maybe crocheting an elegant lacy sash for Nadias lovely owl (I'm sorry I forgot the name😭), and I think if MC made a similar one for Nadia she would not pass an opportunity to wear it, she styles it beautifully with casual outdoorsy clothes. (She was debating wearing it to a formal meeting with other world leaders, it so pretty she can't help it!)

And making tiny sweaters for Pepi? Portias in love. I think she would either 1)also know how to knit 2)make MC teach her how to so she can reciprocate the love by also making MC sweaters. They all end up warm and fuzzy at the end of the day. (Definitely makes MC and Pepi have a photo shoot/painting shoot?? Something to eternalise the memory basically)

And also, knitting a matching set of cowls for Innana and Muriel to fight off the cold in the forest, it's easily his favourite thing to wear, if it get caught on a brach and tears, or Innana accidentally claws through it he will be eternally guilty, even if MC reassures him that they can just mend it or make a new one. (Would also love if MC made little sacks for his herbs and protection charms)

And I can see Lucio clipping little crocheted charms on his gold arm, what do you mean? it cute and his MC made it for him of course he's wearing it! Also asks (forces) MC to buy neon red yarn so they HAVE to crochet stuff for him. (He went in public one day with little frogs and ladybugs and ducks dangling from his arm, got many stares, refused to give one of them to a child who then started crying, it was a whole thing, im not sure how he would feel if MC made a goat charm though)

Expand/add onto these if you want (i would like to know your opinion about the goat charm thing) , thought they were too sweet not to share, also had to get them outta my system😅, I love your content (just as much as Julian loves the sweater) sorry this is a long one and i hope you have a nice day<3

-🐍

Hello, snek friend!

Don't apologize for the long message, these ideas are all lovely! I can definitely see Faust and Malak flaunting their outfits whenever they can wear them. You already know Asra would set up a catwalk (or should I say snekslither?) for Faust to model her looks.

Careful with Julian though! He's better with his hands than he lets on, if you give him a crash course he might get even better than you are and start showering you with odd little crocheted inventions.

I expect Mercedes and Melchior would be better off if MC finds a nice, tough twine to make chew toys with XD

And oh goodness, you already know in Muriel's route how long he wore the scarf MC got him at the marketplace, if it was homemade he'd store them on the mantle with his tapestries.

Both Portia and Nadia would definitely find a book of patterns and gift it to you to help you explore new ideas! The difference is that Nadia would shower you with supplies, while Portia would challenge herself to master every pattern you can. ^.^

As for the goat charm, oh dear. He'll wear it because you made it but he'll clip it somewhere less noticeable XD

Thanks for sharing these wonderful ideas with me! They're so fluffy it makes me wanna melt :)

Cheers!

- brainrot

[riptide-kid]

Domestic December 2023 - Day 30 Sock skating on the floor

Pairing: Dew x Phantom

Summary: Phantom discovers that the floors of their quarters are perfect for sock skating. Of course he has to show Dew.

Warnings: -

Words: ~ 600

Notes: -

You can also read this on Ao3!

“Dew? DEW!!!” Phantom called from the hallway. It wasn’t the first time he was so excited about something, as he was still getting adjusted to living topside. Of course Dew loved him, but sometimes his easily excitable nature was a bit much, especially when he called for Dew about 47 times a day and the fire ghoul just wanted to have some time by himself.

“DEEEW!!!” Phantom shouted again, right as Dew opened his door.

“Whaaat???” he called back, on the verge of being annoyed, as Phantom slid across the smooth hallway floor in his socks, sliding right into Dew, almost making him topple over.

“Oh. Sorry!!” he grinned widely as they held onto each other tightly, Dew narrowing his eyes at him, but Phantom was just too excited to let this affect him. “Look!!!” he said, removing himself from Dew and putting up one foot, pointing at his socks. Cumulus had gifted each of them a pair of knitted socks for the holidays, and Phantom loved them so much, he hadn’t taken them off since.

“Look!!!” he repeated, taking a run-up and sliding across almost the entire length of the hallway, only wobbling a little and extending his arms to keep some sort of balance.

Dew had to admit, it was almost kind of impressive how far he got. He had almost made it the entire way to the kitchen, all the way down.

Phantom turned around and slid back towards Dew, still grinning. “You have to try it!!”

Dew smiled slightly at his excitement. “I don’t think so bug,” he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Come on!! It’s fun!” Phantom pleaded.

Dew sighed. “No, I-“

“Come oooon!” he insisted. “I bet you can’t even get as far as two doors down.”

That last statement made Dew’s ears twitch, and right then, Phantom knew he had him. Dew was nothing if not competitive, and Phantom had learned that he could push him even further to get what he wanted.

“I bet you can’t even get ONE door down!!!”

Dew was already stomping off into his room, getting the socks he had gotten from Cumulus as well, and put them on.

“I BET I can get all the way down to the end of the hallway, on my first try!” he boasted.

Phantom sat down on the floor, crossing his legs and grinning up at the other ghoul. “Then show me!”

Dew started running and slid all across the floor. This wasn’t as easy as he had anticipated, he struggled to keep his balance, and soon noticed that he had taken on way too much speed. He had totally miscalculated how slippery the floor was in these socks. He’d definitely crash into the wall when-

Rain had just made himself a cup of green tea, like every afternoon. Especially during the colder months, he basically lived off that stuff and he had finally got himself out of the warmth of his room to make one. He was just getting out of the kitchen, steaming mug in his hand.

In the last second, Dew managed to turn away, sliding right into the wall and falling flat down, all but hitting his head on the floor.

“What the hell, Dew?” Rain looked down at him, taking a sip of his tea. “I almost dropped my cup!”

They both looked back to the other side of the hallway, where Phantom was laughing hysterically.

Dew shouted back at him, “SHUT UP!!!”

[projectforawesome]

Project for Awesome 2023 Perk Fulfillment

Welcome to the 2023 Perk Fulfillment post!

This post will continuously be updated as perks are fulfilled, so you can keep track of whether or not you should have received yours. You can bookmark this page and refer back to it to check on the status of your perks.

Digital perks will be emailed as they come in throughout the year, so please make sure info@projectforawesome.com is marked as a safe sender on your email.

Even if you bought a digital download bundle perk individually (i.e. you didn’t buy the whole bundle) you should still receive it at the date listed. If it’s not listed, it hasn’t been sent out yet! 

Please keep in mind that there are still supply chain issues and shipping disruptions that are impacting shipping times.  Note that you will receive an email from DFTBA when your physical perk ships.

If you have any questions you can email us at info@projectforawesome.com

Please note: If a perk is not on this list, it has not been sent out yet. Thank you!

Digital Download Bundle Perks

Bonus Perks - 3/1/23

Pneumatology of Hogwarts Pneumatology podcast - 3/1/23

Orchestral version of Tessa Violet's "Yes Mom" - 3/1/23

Nerdfighter Knit Socks Patterns - 3/1/23

Digital Nerdfighter Art Bundle - 3/13/23

2 Chapters of A Thing John's Working On ("The Trauma Plot") - 3/15/23

E.T. Movie Commentary w/Joe & Craig - 5/25/23

Hank's TikTok Drafts - 6/2/23

Dadcast - 6/9/23

John's TikTok Drafts - 6/14/23

The Clowncast - 6/15/23

Dear Katherine and Sarah - 7/5/23

Nerdfighter Knitted Book Cover Pattern - 7/17/23

John & Rosianna podcast - 8/23/23

"16 Weeks to Glory" song and lyric sheet by the Gregory Brothers - 9/1/23

Like Letters podcast - 9/19/23

Exclusive Dear Hank & John - 12/11/23

SciShow Tangents Butt Fact Zine (Digital) - 1/16/24

Exclusive Digital Perks

Crabulo.us (monthly subscription) - first email sent 2/27/23

Digital Media Workshop with Danielle Bainbridge - 3/25/23

Mentalist Private Zoom Show - 3/10/23

IG follow from Vitus Spehar - 3/27/23

TikTok follow from Vitus Spehar - 3/27/23

Dear Hank and John Personal Message - 3/21/23

Trivia Night with Hank #1 - 4/6/23

Personalized Video from Grace Helbig & Mamrie Hart - 4/12/23

Club Crochet Memberships - 4/18/23

Get Animated into Crash Course - 4/16/23 - 1/16/24

Zoom AMA with Vitus Spehar - 4/24/23

Suggest a topic for Under The Desk news - 4/24/23 (episodes will be rolling out through July)

Name in the P4A Recap Video - 4/25/23

Zoom call with Aaron Caroll - 5/9/23

Trivia with John & Stan #1 - 5/24/23

Animated Into Crash Course - 3/21/23

P4A Recap Video - 4/25/23

Trivia with John & Stan #2 - 6/5/23

Personalized Soundscape from Flula Borg - 6/9/23

Trivia with John & Stan #3 - 6/13/23

Personalized D&D Character Sheets (first half) - 7/5/23

Personalized Book Recommendations with John - July 10-21, 2023

Hank's TikTok Thanks - 10/10/23

John's TikTok Thanks - 10/16/23

Trivia Night with Hank #2 - 11/2/23

Personalized D&D Character Sheets (second half) - 11/14/23

Crabulo.us - 1/25/24

Physical Perks

P4A 2023 Calendars - sent 3/17/23

Eons 2023 Calendar - sent 3/16/23

Journey to the Microcosmos 2023 calendar - sent 3/16/23

SciShow 2023 Calendar - sent 3/16/23

SciShow Space 2023 Calendar - sent 3/16/23

Awesome Socks Club Bundle (s/m & m/l) - sent 4/4/23

Mystery P4A Perks - sent 4/5/23

Signed Drawfee Poster - sent 4/10/23

Penny Passports - sent 4/10/23

Taylor Behnke's Bat Art - sent 4/10/23

Hanklerfish Temporary Tattoos - sent 4/11/23

Color Canvas Board Hanklerfish - sent 4/11/23

Black Paper Hanklerfish - sent 4/12/23

Hank's Confetti - sent 4/12/23

Katherine's Little Art - sent 4/12/23

Character We Mail to You (Destin's Stream) - sent 4/27/23

Hank Green Books (foreign editions) - sent 5/2/23

A Book from John's Library - sent 5/2/23

P4A Quilt - sent 5/2/23

GMM Floor is Lava Tumbler - sent 5/2/23

GMM Nightlight - sent 5/2/23

GMM Poetry Magnets - sent 5/2/23

GMM Mythical Backpack - sent 5/2/23

GMM We're Still Good Game - sent 5/2/23

Club Crochet Beginner's Dinosaur Kit - sent 5/2/23

Bad Astronomer Bundle -sent 5/2/23

Tyler Thrasher pinned insects - sent 5/2/23

Vintage NASA Sticker - sent 5/2/23

Vintage NASA pin - sent 5/2/23

Vintage NASA Postcard - sent 5/2/23

Sydney Green's Acrylic Artwork - sent 5/2/23

Club Crochet Tiny T-Rex - sent 5/2/23

Club Crochet Hankceratops - sent 5/2/23

Club Crochet Set of 2 Meeps - sent 5/2/23

Club Crochet Red Goblin - sent 5/2/23

Club Crochet Green Goblin - sent 5/2/23

2023 T-shirt - sent 5/5/23

Picture Books from John's Library (w/bookplate) - sent 5/5/23

Orin's Country Population Poster - sent 5/9/23

Mini Hanklerfish - sent 5/16/23

2023 P4A Iron-on patch - sent 5/18/23

Dino going to the moon - sent 5/24/23

Dino going to Mars - sent 5/24/23

Character or Dino going to the moon - sent 5/24/23

Dino going to JWST - sent 5/24/23

2023 Enamel Pin - sent 5/25/23

John's Agloe, NY Maps - sent 5/26/23

Tyler Thrasher Glowing Bouquet - sent 5/26/23

P4A 2023 Blanket - sent 5/26/2023

2023 Commemorative Coin - sent 5/31/2023

202 P4A Logo Beanie - sent 6/1/2023

Sarah's "Doubles" Prints - sent 6/7/2023

Sydney Green's Watercolor Art - sent 6/19/2023

Hanklerfish Framed Art - sent 6/27/2023

Lemon Man - sent 7/10/2023

Signed John Green Foreign Edition Book - sent 8/10/2023

Alice's Cat Drawings - sent 8/10/2023

P4A Keychain - sent 08/31/2023

DFTBA Wall Hanging - sent 08/31/2023

We're Hummus Because We're Hummus Coaster - sent 09/21/2023

2023 Pressed Pennies - sent 9/27/2023

Signed Random John Green Book - sent 10/23/2023

Eons Painted Wooden Dinos - sent 10/23/2023

Eons Sculptures - sent 10/23/2023

Bananagrams from John's collection - sent 10/23/2023

Annotated The Anthropocene Reviewed in German - sent 10/30/2023

Eons Signed Scale Bar - sent 10/30/2023

Inky the Possum Paintings - sent 11/17/2023

John's Vision Board - sent 12/28/2023

Original Butt Facts Zine - sent 1/04/2024

P4A Logo Sticker Set - sent 1/30/2024

Self Care Bunny Prints - sent 1/30/2024

Drawfee Print- Lemon Lips - sent 1/30/2024

Drawfee Print- T-Rax - sent 1/30/2024

Drawfee Print- Crabulous - sent 1/30/2024

Little Monster Postcards - sent 2/8/2024

Animal Wonders Paper Plate Painting - sent 2/8/2024

2023 Quarter Zip - sent 2/21/2024

Self Care Bunny Stickers - sent 2/28/2024

2023 Sticky Notes - sent 3/15/2024

SciShow Tangents Butt Fact Zine (physical) - sent 3/20/2024

Please note: If a perk is not on this list, it has not been sent out yet. Thank you!

[therainbowfishy]

Finally finished knitting the shorts I started in May!! I started over 3 or 4 times (I learned to knit when I was little, abandoned it for crochet, but picked it back up this year. I got overconfident from following a sock tutorial and then crash coursed my way through with this shorts set). Made the matching top in between all the frogging, which was surprisingly quicker and easier than the shorts. And while it’s too cold to wear the shorts, I finally got to wear the socks I made at the beginning of the year!

knit set patterns: “the lost tank” and “the lost shorts” from Friday Knits

sock tutorial

[sunlightandsuffering]

GIVEE us ALL the CHAOSSSS!!!

But also I low key wanna see flirty EM 👀

AHAHAHA ANON UR JUST AS INDECISIVE AS ME!!! BUt okay I'll start with Nico and Granny Ackerman chaos lol !!

Her mother will claim until she is blue in the face that it was an accident, that it just ‘happened’, but as Mikasa steps into the entryway of her townhouse, Eren’s car parked on the street outside her driveway, she knows. She knows there is absolutely no way this was an accident. 

She’d been suspicious as she parked, noticing Eren’s car right away, the sleek black SUV parked in front of their small sparsely decorated yard, sitting innocently, blocking Nico’s half melted snowman, and there long after Eren should be gone. Immediately, her hackles are up, because today is Friday, and she’d told Nico very specifically that tonight was the night. Tonight they were going to decorate the Christmas Tree. So imagine her surprise, when she’d stepped into the house to find her mother, Eren and Nico dressed up in Santa hats while Eren helpfully sets up the tree. And of course he looks good, while he does it, mouthwateringly so, he’s wearing a fitted green sweater that shows off every muscle of his back and a pair of black pants, that do wonders for his ass as he’s bent over, setting up the lights. She inhales sharply, it’s unfair how good-looking he is, really. 

“What’s going on here?” She questions, dropping her work bag to the floor and Nico yells in delight, “Mama!”

The little boy barrels towards her, slipping on his socks and crashes into her with an ‘oof’ that almost knocks the wind from her lungs, he’s getting big now! 

Eren struggles to detangle himself from the tree, appearing from the underbrush guiltily, a hand rubbing at his neck, “Hi Mikasa I was just–” “He was just helping us set up the tree darling, and I invited him to stay for some cookies and tea for a job well done,” her mother interrupts. Mikasa glares at her over her child, who has now attached himself to her hip, little arms wrapped around her thighs for a hug. She runs her hands through his silky brown hair, trying to figure out her mom’s angle. 

Christmas tree decorating is reserved for the three of them only. “You didn’t want to wait for me?” Mikasa raises an eyebrow and her mother smiles wickedly, “Of course we did darling, we haven’t put any bulbs up yet. I just thought a big strong man’s help with the tree would be so much better and young Mr. Yeager here is a strapping young man indeed, he brought it up from the basement, set it up for us and everything.” Eren is looking nervously between the two of them, a frown marring his face, his eyebrows knit up in concern, “I’m sorry Mikasa I didn’t mean to overstep-” “Nonsense,” her mother cuts him off and Mikasa glares at her aghast, she can’t keep cutting him off like that. “Mom,” she chastises, and the older woman quiets her with a patented look, one that has shut Mikasa up many times, the mom look, the one Mikasa herself has yes to perfect. 

“Stop being so stubborn darling, you have a nice handsome young man here offering his help with the tree now accept it. And Eren stop apologizing, we appreciate you.” 

She looks between them both sternly, “Now the two of you are going to finish setting up the tree together, and I’m going to go start dinner, do we understand?” “Yes Mrs. Ackerman,” Eren responds resolutely, sinking back on his haunches, fingering at their fake tree, and Mikasa deflates, “Yes Mom.” Great, there’s no getting out of this. Nico is grinning up at her in glee and she has no doubt that somehow her child is involved here, somehow this is all a part of his grand master plan. “Grandma, I’ll help you with dinner!” And then her traitor of a child is running off, dragging his grandmother with him, and Mikasa is left alone with Eren.  Shit, shit, shit.

“Sorry about my mom,” Mikasa tells him awkwardly, trying not to focus on the full lower lip of his that’s bitten between his teeth, “You can go if you want.”

Eren smiles up at her, “I’d love to stay if you’ll have me, I was promised dinner after all for my good deeds.”

[wishing-stones]

Alright, you know me better than anyone.

Who would you match my mess of a person with?

Error, of course, but you already knew that. ;P

He's messy too, don't worry. you can be messy together-- but also make sure that the other is okay while being messy.

He's a grumpy gills, but being around someone similar to himself and just as stubborn is a challenge, and means that he won't just immediately brush you off. It also makes you interesting, and if you're interesting, it holds his attention long enough for him to form a bond. When he has a bond, he's more pleasant to be around and less of an asshole, and hey, there might be some thoughtful things included in that! Where do you want to go? He'll take you there if you wanna just go hang out for a bit.

Also, he draws similarities, and when he finally comes to terms with the fact that he loves you, it makes him realize that he himself is lovable too, because hell, you're kind of similar, and if he loves you... then that must mean those same qualities make him lovable, too.

He'd string anyone up who wronged you, hell, even looked at you wrong, and if someone insulted you? Hi, here's a blaster, eat shit. He takes their souls for trophies, too, and proudly hangs them in their own little section as tangible proof that he loves you (and, in turn, means he's lovable and that you love him) so it can never be questioned.

If you work with him on it, he gets okay with touch, too. It helps that humans are soft and squishy and don't have the nails-on-chalkboard feeling of bone-on-bone that makes him error out and crash. It's also a bit of a novelty, so once he realizes he can touch you without losing his shit, you get poked at and petted and squished until you tell him to stop. (...Even then, he might continue to be an ass, but it's playful)

He does what he knows helps him when you have a bad day. Have you ever seen the star rain in Outertale's Waterfall? You should. It's really calming! Or have you just sat and watched the stars in silence? It's good to get thoughts to stop, or at least to slow down until they're manageable.

Also, you get custom knitted and sewn things. He finds out your favorite pieces of clothing to wear and makes you plenty. Here are some lovely tanktops he made himself. And hoodies. And shorts. He's not so good at shoes, but he can make socks with fun patterns! What? Of course he totally paid for the fabric, psshhh. (he didn't.)

[innytoes]

Winter/X-mas Prompts

“New year’s resolution? No, you misheard. This is my New Year’s Revolution.”

Pressing your cold nose against their neck

“You got me a stocking?” - “Of course, you’re family.”

Warming up someone’s hands between your own

“You have whipped cream on your nose.” 

Pretending to be a dragon when breathing out steam in the cold air

“If you’re cold they’re cold, let them in.” - “That’s a raccoon.”

You came to help me up after I slipped on the icy sidewalk and immediately slipped too

“This is the most romantic gift anyone has ever given me.”

I miscalculated how far and fast this sled would go and crashed into you/your car/your yard/your house.

“I knit you a scarf.”

Some jerk convinced the kid I’m a Big Brother/Big Sister for that Santa wasn’t real and they’re heartbroken so I need your help with an elaborate plan to make them believe again because they can’t deal with any more heartache this year

“You got socks for Christmas and you’re happy about it?”

I got a little carried away for the charity toy drive and you’re the very overwhelmed but happy volunteer

“You have a fever.”

You caught me building a snowman over a fire hydrant because some jerk keeps plowing them down with his car and you decided to help

“I’d like to jingle his bells if you know what I’m saying.”

Taking every small child you know to see Santa at the mall because you have a crush on the Hot Elf Helper

“Do you wanna build a snowman?”

I thought I was alone in this blizzard so I was pretending to be Elsa and singing Let It Go and then you started harmonizing with me

“Oh, this is definitely landing us on the Naughty List.”

Snowflakes stuck to eyelashes

“That is the ugliest sweater I have ever seen.”

Slow dancing in the kitchen instead of doing the dishes after a holiday party

“If you keep following me around with mistletoe I’m punching you in the face.”

Cozy pillow fort snuggles

“Have you been good this year?” - “I only got arrested once.”

Falling through the ice immediately after saying ‘See? It’s fine!’

“I made you soup because I love you, you dense piece of sponge cake.”

Hiding under the covers because the fireworks set off their PTSD

“How did you manage to set fire to yourself with a sparkler?”

[simschallengesfor3and4]

Castaway Challenge for sims 4

You were on a plane which crashed and now you are stranded alone. What will you do?

Intro: Hello for this challenge you will need island living (for now) as I have made the island you need for the challenge there and with that pack. My gallery id is: NichoDB

Here you can find the island I have made for Sulani for the challenge, I will be making another one base game friendly in case you don’t have island living. This is somewhat a legacy challenge as you will need to survive on the island for 10 gen (generations) 

starting out with cas:

1 sim any age from teen to adult

Any traits really, may randomize if you want to.

The rules for the island and first gen:

get sim onto island, made it easy there is a ladder leading in so no need for cheats.

Pick 2 garden beds, and one tree bed from the basement.

Pick 1, either chickens, bee’s or goats and sheeps may only pick up to 3 in all of goats and sheeps (2 hens and 1 roster, 3 goats and 3 sheeps are in the household inventory) You can trade them for meat, indgredents and simoliens they will leave the bag at the egde of the lot wich you can drag in.

Pick 1 bed of choice, from the basement may change the color of the bed.

Pick one storage chest with 1 suitcase, may change color also from the basement.

Pick 2 hobbies: there is a small gathering of hobbies, knitting, painting, handiwork and such. You may only pick 2. These will be important choices, as they will have consequences.

Pick 6 book's from the lilttle bookcase thing. You may buy book’s, but you may only pick 6 in all.

Pick 1 grill or the cooler.

Pick the toilet if you don’t have, jungle adventure for the pee bushes on the island.

Pick 1 trashcan.

Pick laundry if you want.

Lot traits Off grind must be on, if you have cottage living so must Simple Living, and great soil must be on too, may pick any other traits and challenges for the lot.

___________________________________________________________________________

Now put all plant’s, and the 2 ladders in the family inventory and delete everything in the basement. Now the 1 gen starts, rules:

Skills will determine what you can and cannot do. So if you want a hut/house you’ll need handiness skill, the higher the more you can make/buy. Gardening will determine how many plant’s you may have and how much from the harvest you may keep. If you have nifty kitting,the knitting skill will allow you new clothes and outfits. Painting will allow you to change color on objects you make/buy, so the higher skill the more color you get else it’s the wood/brown colors neutral colors, on the objects.

Handiness unlocks 1-3(Small decorations, and big objects that look broken or not put together right) 4-6 (Walls max 10x10, windows, doors,stairs no more than 4 steps and railings/fences) 7-8 (All hobbies and other objects, toilets, beds, kitchen stuff all objects are now unlocked but not the best quality so must look like it could be handmade)  9-10 (May build as big as you want and as much as you want no limit, and can buy any object, if you have eco lifestyle you may buy solar panels and water catcher, get some power going) Of course anything the woodworking table allows you to build as you level up you can build but the levels allow you to buy stuff from build and buy mode.

Gardening unlocks 1-3(May only have the plants you chose so 9 plants, may only keep 3 off each plant harvest so does a plant give you 5 or 10 then you have to sell until you only have 3)  4-6(May plant 3 extra crops, may keep everything) 7-8(May make a small farm no more than 6 garden plots from cottage living or you can use the garden beds) 9-10 (May have as many plants or farms as you want and can evolve plants now)

Knitting unlocks 1-3(May have any small piece of clothing hat’s, socks, gloves, underwear, bra’s)  4-6(Rug’s can now be bought too, any shirt any length, skirt’s and shorts) 7-8(All kids clothes and down, so toddler and infants, may buy sleeping bags) 9-10(shoes are now unlocked) Of course as before anything you can knit as you level up are you allowed to make.

Painting unlocks 1-3(beige, brown, white are unlocked) 4-6(Yellow, red and blue colors are unlocked and so are simple patterns) 7-8(Purple, orange and green are now unlocked) 9-10(All colors any pattern you like)

___________________________________________________________________________

The last rules for gen one

Gen one may first get a partner when they have a small hut/house. You may make this sim or take one that is already generated from mange households, they must be single.

May have as many kids as you like, just remember only one is going to be the heir.

You may not have any pets in gen one sorry

NO LEAVING LOT ONCE ON IT

Money cheats are allowed

CC is allowed and so are mods

The rules are guidelines the point is to have fun, is a rule making it less fun remove it

Gen 2:

Whatever gen 1 left is what you have, to survive with

You may get a pet, but no leaving lot for it

NO LEAVING THE LOT

May get a partner/get married when they are young adults. You may make a younger sim, the partner is basically someone new who stranded on the island (use the basement to get them onto island by placing the ladders back in, and removing them after they are on the island)

Money cheats are allowed

CC is allowed and so are mods

The rules are guidelines the point is to have fun, is a rule making it less fun remove it

___________________________________________________________________________

Skill rules:

The rules are the same somewhat

  Handiness unlocks 1-3(Small decorations, and big objects that look broken or not put together right, can NOT fix any objects that break, leave it broken or delete said item) 4-6 (Walls max 10x10, windows, doors,stairs no more than 4 steps and railings/fences) 7-8 (All hobbies and other objects, toilets, beds, kitchen stuff all objects are now unlocked but not the best quality so must look like it could be handmade, can now fix all broken objects)  9-10 (May build as big as you want and as much as you want no limit, and can buy any object, if you have eco lifestyle you may buy solar panels and water catcher, get some power going) Of course anything the woodworking table allows you to build as you level up you can build but the levels allow you to buy stuff from build and buy mode.

Gardening unlocks 1-3(May only have the plants you on the island so what gen 1 left, may only keep 3 off each plant harvest so does a plant give you 5 or 10 then you have to sell until you only have 3)  4-6(May plant 3 extra crops, may keep everything) 7-8(May make a small farm no more than 6 garden plots from cottage living or you can use the garden beds) 9-10 (May have as many plants or farms as you want and can evolve plants now)

Knitting unlocks 1-3(May have any small piece of clothing hat’s, socks, gloves, underwear, bra’s, may not make new outfits)  4-6(Rug’s can now be bought too, any shirt any length, skirt’s and shorts) 7-8(All kids clothes and down, so toddler and infants, may buy sleeping bags, new outfits can be made no shoes) 9-10(shoes are now unlocked,outfits with shoes are now unlocked) Of course as before anything you can knit as you level up are you allowed to make.

Painting unlocks 1-3(beige, brown, white are unlocked, may not change color on items, unless it’s to beige, brown or white) 4-6(Yellow, red and blue colors are unlocked and so are simple patterns) 7-8(Purple, orange and green are now unlocked) 9-10(All colors any pattern you like)

Gen 3:

Whatever gen 1 and 2 left is what you have, to survive with

You may get a pet, but no leaving lot for it

May get a partner/get married when they are young adults. You may make a younger sim, the partner is basically someone new who stranded on the island (use the basement to get them onto island by placing the ladders back in, and removing them after they are on the island)

NO LEAVING LOT

Money cheats are allowed

CC is allowed and so are mods

The rules are guidelines the point is to have fun, is a rule making it less fun remove it

___________________________________________________________________________

Skill rules:

The rules are the same as gen 2

  Handiness unlocks 1-3(Small decorations, and big objects that look broken or not put together right, can NOT fix any objects that break, leave it broken or delete said item) 4-6 (Walls max 10x10, windows, doors,stairs no more than 4 steps and railings/fences) 7-8 (All hobbies and other objects, toilets, beds, kitchen stuff all objects are now unlocked but not the best quality so must look like it could be handmade, can now fix all broken objects)  9-10 (May build as big as you want and as much as you want no limit, and can buy any object, if you have eco lifestyle you may buy solar panels and water catcher, get some power going) Of course anything the woodworking table allows you to build as you level up you can build but the levels allow you to buy stuff from build and buy mode.

Gardening unlocks 1-3(May only have the plants you on the island so what gen 1 left, may only keep 3 off each plant harvest so does a plant give you 5 or 10 then you have to sell until you only have 3)  4-6(May plant 3 extra crops, may keep everything) 7-8(May make a small farm no more than 6 garden plots from cottage living or you can use the garden beds) 9-10 (May have as many plants or farms as you want and can evolve plants now)

Knitting unlocks 1-3(May have any small piece of clothing hat’s, socks, gloves, underwear, bra’s, may not make new outfits)  4-6(Rug’s can now be bought too, any shirt any length, skirt’s and shorts) 7-8(All kids clothes and down, so toddler and infants, may buy sleeping bags, new outfits can be made no shoes) 9-10(shoes are now unlocked,outfits with shoes are now unlocked) Of course as before anything you can knit as you level up are you allowed to make.

Painting unlocks 1-3(beige, brown, white are unlocked, may not change color on items, unless it’s to beige, brown or white) 4-6(Yellow, red and blue colors are unlocked and so are simple patterns) 7-8(Purple, orange and green are now unlocked) 9-10(All colors any pattern you like)

Gen 4:

Whatever the last gen’s left is what you have, to survive with

You may get a pet, but no leaving lot for it

NO LEAVING THE LOT

May get a partner/get married when they are young adults. You may make a younger sim, the partner is basically someone new who stranded on the island (use the basement to get them onto island by placing the ladders back in, and removing them after they are on the island)

May pick 4 plants from the family inventory or 1 tree, so a tree box or plant box 

Money cheats are allowed

CC is allowed and so are mods

The rules are guidelines the point is to have fun, is a rule making it less fun remove it

___________________________________________________________________________

Skill rules:

The rules are the same as gen 2

  Handiness unlocks 1-3(Small decorations, and big objects that look broken or not put together right, can NOT fix any objects that break, leave it broken or delete said item) 4-6 (Walls max 10x10, windows, doors,stairs no more than 4 steps and railings/fences) 7-8 (All hobbies and other objects, toilets, beds, kitchen stuff all objects are now unlocked but not the best quality so must look like it could be handmade, can now fix all broken objects)  9-10 (May build as big as you want and as much as you want no limit, and can buy any object, if you have eco lifestyle you may buy solar panels and water catcher, get some power going) Of course anything the woodworking table allows you to build as you level up you can build but the levels allow you to buy stuff from build and buy mode.

Gardening unlocks 1-3(May only have the plants you on the island so what gen 1 left, may only keep 3 off each plant harvest so does a plant give you 5 or 10 then you have to sell until you only have 3)  4-6(May plant 3 extra crops, may keep everything) 7-8(May make a small farm no more than 6 garden plots from cottage living or you can use the garden beds) 9-10 (May have as many plants or farms as you want and can evolve plants now)

Knitting unlocks 1-3(May have any small piece of clothing hat’s, socks, gloves, underwear, bra’s, may not make new outfits)  4-6(Rug’s can now be bought too, any shirt any length, skirt’s and shorts) 7-8(All kids clothes and down, so toddler and infants, may buy sleeping bags, new outfits can be made no shoes) 9-10(shoes are now unlocked,outfits with shoes are now unlocked) Of course as before anything you can knit as you level up are you allowed to make.

Painting unlocks 1-3(beige, brown, white are unlocked, may not change color on items, unless it’s to beige, brown or white) 4-6(Yellow, red and blue colors are unlocked and so are simple patterns) 7-8(Purple, orange and green are now unlocked) 9-10(All colors any pattern you like)

Gen 5:

Whatever the last gen’s left is what you have, to survive with

You may get a pet, but no leaving lot for it

NO LEAVING THE LOT

May get a partner/get married when they are young adults. You may make a younger sim, the partner is basically someone new who stranded on the island (use the basement to get them onto island by placing the ladders back in, and removing them after they are on the island)

Money cheats are allowed

CC is allowed and so are mods

The rules are guidelines the point is to have fun, is a rule making it less fun remove it

___________________________________________________________________________

Skill rules:

The rules are the same as gen 2

  Handiness unlocks 1-3(Small decorations, and big objects that look broken or not put together right, can NOT fix any objects that break, leave it broken or delete said item) 4-6 (Walls max 10x10, windows, doors,stairs no more than 4 steps and railings/fences) 7-8 (All hobbies and other objects, toilets, beds, kitchen stuff all objects are now unlocked but not the best quality so must look like it could be handmade, can now fix all broken objects)  9-10 (May build as big as you want and as much as you want no limit, and can buy any object, if you have eco lifestyle you may buy solar panels and water catcher, get some power going) Of course anything the woodworking table allows you to build as you level up you can build but the levels allow you to buy stuff from build and buy mode.

Gardening unlocks 1-3(May only have the plants you on the island so what gen 1 left, may only keep 3 off each plant harvest so does a plant give you 5 or 10 then you have to sell until you only have 3)  4-6(May plant 3 extra crops, may keep everything) 7-8(May make a small farm no more than 6 garden plots from cottage living or you can use the garden beds) 9-10 (May have as many plants or farms as you want and can evolve plants now)

Knitting unlocks 1-3(May have any small piece of clothing hat’s, socks, gloves, underwear, bra’s, may not make new outfits)  4-6(Rug’s can now be bought too, any shirt any length, skirt’s and shorts) 7-8(All kids clothes and down, so toddler and infants, may buy sleeping bags, new outfits can be made no shoes) 9-10(shoes are now unlocked,outfits with shoes are now unlocked) Of course as before anything you can knit as you level up are you allowed to make.

Painting unlocks 1-3(beige, brown, white are unlocked, may not change color on items, unless it’s to beige, brown or white) 4-6(Yellow, red and blue colors are unlocked and so are simple patterns) 7-8(Purple, orange and green are now unlocked) 9-10(All colors any pattern you like)

Gen 6:

Whatever the last gen’s left is what you have, to survive with

You may get a pet, but no leaving lot for it

NO LEAVING THE LOT

May get a partner/get married when they are young adults. You may make a younger sim, the partner is basically someone new who stranded on the island (use the basement to get them onto island by placing the ladders back in, and removing them after they are on the island)

May pick 4 plants and a tree or 2 trees

Money cheats are allowed

CC is allowed and so are mods

The rules are guidelines the point is to have fun, is a rule making it less fun remove it

___________________________________________________________________________

Skill rules:

The rules are the same as gen 2

  Handiness unlocks 1-3(Small decorations, and big objects that look broken or not put together right, can NOT fix any objects that break, leave it broken or delete said item) 4-6 (Walls max 10x10, windows, doors,stairs no more than 4 steps and railings/fences) 7-8 (All hobbies and other objects, toilets, beds, kitchen stuff all objects are now unlocked but not the best quality so must look like it could be handmade, can now fix all broken objects)  9-10 (May build as big as you want and as much as you want no limit, and can buy any object, if you have eco lifestyle you may buy solar panels and water catcher, get some power going) Of course anything the woodworking table allows you to build as you level up you can build but the levels allow you to buy stuff from build and buy mode.

Gardening unlocks 1-3(May only have the plants you on the island so what gen 1 left, may only keep 3 off each plant harvest so does a plant give you 5 or 10 then you have to sell until you only have 3)  4-6(May plant 3 extra crops, may keep everything) 7-8(May make a small farm no more than 6 garden plots from cottage living or you can use the garden beds) 9-10 (May have as many plants or farms as you want and can evolve plants now)

Knitting unlocks 1-3(May have any small piece of clothing hat’s, socks, gloves, underwear, bra’s, may not make new outfits)  4-6(Rug’s can now be bought too, any shirt any length, skirt’s and shorts) 7-8(All kids clothes and down, so toddler and infants, may buy sleeping bags, new outfits can be made no shoes) 9-10(shoes are now unlocked,outfits with shoes are now unlocked) Of course as before anything you can knit as you level up are you allowed to make.

Painting unlocks 1-3(beige, brown, white are unlocked, may not change color on items, unless it’s to beige, brown or white) 4-6(Yellow, red and blue colors are unlocked and so are simple patterns) 7-8(Purple, orange and green are now unlocked) 9-10(All colors any pattern you like) 

Gen 7:

Whatever the last gen’s left is what you have, to survive with

You may get a pet, but no leaving lot for it

NO LEAVING THE LOT

May get a partner/get married when they are young adults. You may make a younger sim, the partner is basically someone new who stranded on the island (use the basement to get them onto island by placing the ladders back in, and removing them after they are on the island)

May pick 4 plants or a tree

Money cheats are allowed

CC is allowed and so are mods

The rules are guidelines the point is to have fun, is a rule making it less fun remove it

___________________________________________________________________________

Skill rules:

The rules are the same as gen 2

  Handiness unlocks 1-3(Small decorations, and big objects that look broken or not put together right, can NOT fix any objects that break, leave it broken or delete said item) 4-6 (Walls max 10x10, windows, doors,stairs no more than 4 steps and railings/fences) 7-8 (All hobbies and other objects, toilets, beds, kitchen stuff all objects are now unlocked but not the best quality so must look like it could be handmade, can now fix all broken objects)  9-10 (May build as big as you want and as much as you want no limit, and can buy any object, if you have eco lifestyle you may buy solar panels and water catcher, get some power going) Of course anything the woodworking table allows you to build as you level up you can build but the levels allow you to buy stuff from build and buy mode.

Gardening unlocks 1-3(May only have the plants you on the island so what gen 1 left, may only keep 3 off each plant harvest so does a plant give you 5 or 10 then you have to sell until you only have 3)  4-6(May plant 3 extra crops, may keep everything) 7-8(May make a small farm no more than 6 garden plots from cottage living or you can use the garden beds) 9-10 (May have as many plants or farms as you want and can evolve plants now)

Knitting unlocks 1-3(May have any small piece of clothing hat’s, socks, gloves, underwear, bra’s, may not make new outfits)  4-6(Rug’s can now be bought too, any shirt any length, skirt’s and shorts) 7-8(All kids clothes and down, so toddler and infants, may buy sleeping bags, new outfits can be made no shoes) 9-10(shoes are now unlocked,outfits with shoes are now unlocked) Of course as before anything you can knit as you level up are you allowed to make.

Painting unlocks 1-3(beige, brown, white are unlocked, may not change color on items, unless it’s to beige, brown or white) 4-6(Yellow, red and blue colors are unlocked and so are simple patterns) 7-8(Purple, orange and green are now unlocked) 9-10(All colors any pattern you like)

Gen 8:

Whatever the last gen’s left is what you have, to survive with

You may get a pet, but no leaving lot for it

NO LEAVING THE LOT

May get a partner/get married when they are young adults. You may make a younger sim, the partner is basically someone new who stranded on the island (use the basement to get them onto island by placing the ladders back in, and removing them after they are on the island)

May pick 8 plants and 1 tree or 2 tree and 4 plants (if possible)

Money cheats are allowed

CC is allowed and so are mods

The rules are guidelines the point is to have fun, is a rule making it less fun remove it

___________________________________________________________________________

Skill rules:

The rules are the same as gen 2

  Handiness unlocks 1-3(Small decorations, and big objects that look broken or not put together right, can NOT fix any objects that break, leave it broken or delete said item) 4-6 (Walls max 10x10, windows, doors,stairs no more than 4 steps and railings/fences) 7-8 (All hobbies and other objects, toilets, beds, kitchen stuff all objects are now unlocked but not the best quality so must look like it could be handmade, can now fix all broken objects)  9-10 (May build as big as you want and as much as you want no limit, and can buy any object, if you have eco lifestyle you may buy solar panels and water catcher, get some power going) Of course anything the woodworking table allows you to build as you level up you can build but the levels allow you to buy stuff from build and buy mode.

Gardening unlocks 1-3(May only have the plants you on the island so what gen 1 left, may only keep 3 off each plant harvest so does a plant give you 5 or 10 then you have to sell until you only have 3)  4-6(May plant 3 extra crops, may keep everything) 7-8(May make a small farm no more than 6 garden plots from cottage living or you can use the garden beds) 9-10 (May have as many plants or farms as you want and can evolve plants now)

Knitting unlocks 1-3(May have any small piece of clothing hat’s, socks, gloves, underwear, bra’s, may not make new outfits)  4-6(Rug’s can now be bought too, any shirt any length, skirt’s and shorts) 7-8(All kids clothes and down, so toddler and infants, may buy sleeping bags, new outfits can be made no shoes) 9-10(shoes are now unlocked,outfits with shoes are now unlocked) Of course as before anything you can knit as you level up are you allowed to make.

Painting unlocks 1-3(beige, brown, white are unlocked, may not change color on items, unless it’s to beige, brown or white) 4-6(Yellow, red and blue colors are unlocked and so are simple patterns) 7-8(Purple, orange and green are now unlocked) 9-10(All colors any pattern you like) 

Gen 9:

Whatever the last gen’s left is what you have, to survive with

You may get a pet, but no leaving lot for it

NO LEAVING THE LOT

May get a partner/get married when they are young adults. You may make a younger sim, the partner is basically someone new who stranded on the island (use the basement to get them onto island by placing the ladders back in, and removing them after they are on the island)

All plants left are now yours 

Money cheats are allowed

CC is allowed and so are mods

The rules are guidelines the point is to have fun, is a rule making it less fun remove it

___________________________________________________________________________

Skill rules:

The rules are the same as gen 2

  Handiness unlocks 1-3(Small decorations, and big objects that look broken or not put together right, can NOT fix any objects that break, leave it broken or delete said item) 4-6 (Walls max 10x10, windows, doors,stairs no more than 4 steps and railings/fences) 7-8 (All hobbies and other objects, toilets, beds, kitchen stuff all objects are now unlocked but not the best quality so must look like it could be handmade, can now fix all broken objects)  9-10 (May build as big as you want and as much as you want no limit, and can buy any object, if you have eco lifestyle you may buy solar panels and water catcher, get some power going) Of course anything the woodworking table allows you to build as you level up you can build but the levels allow you to buy stuff from build and buy mode.

Gardening unlocks 1-3(May only have the plants you on the island so what gen 1 left, may only keep 3 off each plant harvest so does a plant give you 5 or 10 then you have to sell until you only have 3)  4-6(May plant 3 extra crops, may keep everything) 7-8(May make a small farm no more than 6 garden plots from cottage living or you can use the garden beds) 9-10 (May have as many plants or farms as you want and can evolve plants now)

Knitting unlocks 1-3(May have any small piece of clothing hat’s, socks, gloves, underwear, bra’s, may not make new outfits)  4-6(Rug’s can now be bought too, any shirt any length, skirt’s and shorts) 7-8(All kids clothes and down, so toddler and infants, may buy sleeping bags, new outfits can be made no shoes) 9-10(shoes are now unlocked,outfits with shoes are now unlocked) Of course as before anything you can knit as you level up are you allowed to make.

Painting unlocks 1-3(beige, brown, white are unlocked, may not change color on items, unless it’s to beige, brown or white) 4-6(Yellow, red and blue colors are unlocked and so are simple patterns) 7-8(Purple, orange and green are now unlocked) 9-10(All colors any pattern you like)  

Gen 10:

Whatever the last gen’s left is what you have, to survive with

You may get a pet, but no leaving lot for it

NO LEAVING THE LOT

May get a partner/get married when they are young adults. You may make a younger sim, the partner is basically someone new who stranded on the island (use the basement to get them onto island by placing the ladders back in, and removing them after they are on the island)

Money cheats are allowed

CC is allowed and so are mods

The rules are guidelines the point is to have fun, is a rule making it less fun remove it

___________________________________________________________________________

Skill rules:

The rules are the same as gen 2

  Handiness unlocks 1-3(Small decorations, and big objects that look broken or not put together right, can NOT fix any objects that break, leave it broken or delete said item) 4-6 (Walls max 10x10, windows, doors,stairs no more than 4 steps and railings/fences) 7-8 (All hobbies and other objects, toilets, beds, kitchen stuff all objects are now unlocked but not the best quality so must look like it could be handmade, can now fix all broken objects)  9-10 (May build as big as you want and as much as you want no limit, and can buy any object, if you have eco lifestyle you may buy solar panels and water catcher, get some power going) Of course anything the woodworking table allows you to build as you level up you can build but the levels allow you to buy stuff from build and buy mode.

Gardening unlocks 1-3(May only have the plants you on the island so what gen 1 left, may only keep 3 off each plant harvest so does a plant give you 5 or 10 then you have to sell until you only have 3)  4-6(May plant 3 extra crops, may keep everything) 7-8(May make a small farm no more than 6 garden plots from cottage living or you can use the garden beds) 9-10 (May have as many plants or farms as you want and can evolve plants now)

Knitting unlocks 1-3(May have any small piece of clothing hat’s, socks, gloves, underwear, bra’s, may not make new outfits)  4-6(Rug’s can now be bought too, any shirt any length, skirt’s and shorts) 7-8(All kids clothes and down, so toddler and infants, may buy sleeping bags, new outfits can be made no shoes) 9-10(shoes are now unlocked,outfits with shoes are now unlocked) Of course as before anything you can knit as you level up are you allowed to make.

Painting unlocks 1-3(beige, brown, white are unlocked, may not change color on items, unless it’s to beige, brown or white) 4-6(Yellow, red and blue colors are unlocked and so are simple patterns) 7-8(Purple, orange and green are now unlocked) 9-10(All colors any pattern you like)  

[prettycraft5]

Sweater plans in general

As much as I enjoy knitting them, I figure a girl can only have so many sweaters, especially if she needs to fit them all in a plane carry-on.

So here is a list of the 7 sweaters I want to make for myself and then stop making sweaters (don't worry, I'll just move on to socks) and reevaluate my sweater needs every year. This list is bound to change as I gain more knitting experience, discover new patterns or change my mind. But as of right now, it stands.

Not in any particular order:

Aroace sweater (done, Oct 2023!)

DDLJ sweater (currently in planning. I need to write the pattern and find the right light blue variegated yarn)

Botanical yoke pullover (either in darkish red or darkish green)

Grey ribbed sweater with a zipper inspired by one on the drama Crash Course on Romance

The pink dropped shoulder sweater from "Reading Erotic Romance Novels in Public" by Wong Fu Productions

Raglan sweater that is full-body stranded colourwork in the fair isle style but so many more colours, inspired by a sweater worn by Britta Perry in a late season of Community

The Handsome Christ Pullover (help I've never even done one cable)

How long do you think this shall take me?

[desolatesandwich]

July- finished my very first pair of socks; despite identical patterns, one sock is significantly smaller T_T

in retrospect, a four colour faire isle pattern was maybe not the wisest choice for my very first sock. BUT! I was not bored and there are cute foxes on them

[myakkun]

BATTER | HANMA SHUJI

you suck in a gasp as your elbow knocks a bowl off the counter, and watch in horror—body frozen as if you’re in one of those stupid, cheesy slo-mo scenes from the movies—as it falls and falls and falls.

and clatters to the ground, splattering freshly whipped up cake mix all across the kitchen tile.

you stare at it for a moment, your hands gripping the remaining bowl of batter in your grasp, staring down at the mess on your dingy tile. the surprise for your boyfriend now lies in a running, spreading goop on the floor. your heart nearly matching the level of mush.

with a begrudging, heaving sigh you eye the mess for a moment—mentally berating yourself and blaming the fact that it’s five a.m. for your clumsiness—then force yourself to turn. you stretch your arms out to set the only bowl of batter left onto the counter, so you can fetch something to clean this up.

a figure barging into the kitchen and slamming into the doorframe startles you so bad you think your soul nearly leaves your body.

but the bowl of batter does leave your hands.

clambers to the floor just like it’s partner before it as you jump out of your skin.

and you watch in disdain as it splatters against faded white, a few drops hitting your bare shins and flinging to the front of the cabinets as it does so. your pounding heart starts going triple time—nerves, frustration, and guilt attacking it all in one go.

you flick your gaze up to find shuji—eyes wild and hazy from having just woken up, hair a floppily tousled mess upon his head, clad in nothing but an old ratty t-shirt and his boxers with his socked feet slipping slightly on the ground—pointing a gun at you.

“jesus fuck,” he sighs, after a second, when he finally comes to his senses and realizes that the crash he heard was in fact not an intruder, just his idiot of a partner. “what the fuck?”

“i didn’t—god shuji lower your damn gun,” you sputter, still baffled about what’s happened in just a matter a minutes. “what’re you doing?”

“what am i.. the fuck are you doing?” hanma hisses back, voice hoarse from sleep, as he lowers his gun and rubs at his eyes with the heel of his palm. “i coulda shot you.”

“and i would’ve killed you if you did,” you retort, running your hands down your face, a bitter taste on the tip of your tongue as you look back down the mess on the floor. your heart drops, mood souring at it. “just go back to bed.”

“huh?” and if you weren’t so frazzled, you’d be able to admire how cute your boyfriend is when he’s just woken up, all disheveled and slow, brows knit together.

you bend over, waving a hand at him as you try to ignore the stinging behind your eyes, because of course this is what happens when you try to do something nice. and that’s all you wanted to do; give your boyfriend a nice surprise. a birthday cake in bed, a sweet memory he could use to replace all the bad ones he’d built over the years. you just wanted to do this one thing for him.

despite his incessant grumbling, hanma kneels beside you, sitting his gun on the counter and grabbing a hand towel in place of it, attempting to sop up the mess. you stare at him, shoulders brushing as he works with a soft pout, cursing you under his breath for being so fucking annoying and waking him up.

and you can’t help it, the way you reach forward, fingertips pressing to shuji’s cheek and turning him to face you.

and you kiss him.

because he’s pissed, completely agitated in his half asleep state, jaw set in the way it does when he gets blood on his favorite button up or when he runs out of contacts and has to wear his glasses. yet he’s here, knelt beside you in your shitty apartment’s kitchen at five in the fucking morning, cleaning up a mess that you are entirely at fault for.

his curses die against your lips, melt into a grunt into your mouth as you press into him, your touch so innately delicate it catches him entirely off guard.

you pull back, and he puffs a breath out.

“what was that for?”

you smile, a watery little thing, and lean forward to peck his lips again, then the corner of his mouth, then his cheek before pulling back.

“happy birthday,” you whisper, and it’s low and sweet and something about the way you say it strikes a cord deep in hanma’s soul, twists around his gut and has his eyes widening ever so slightly. “this is your, uh..”

“cake,” he supplies, halfway in a trance as he looks at you, lips curling into a smirk—for what, you aren’t sure, but it rests so naturally on his lips. “i think it’s a little undercooked.”

you laugh, because if you don’t you think you might just cry, shaking your head as you drop your hands to rest atop your crouched thighs.

“yeah.” your tongue pokes your cheek. “just a little.” you stare down at the mess before you, debating on what to even do at this point since you only bought two boxes of cake mix and they’re both spilt right here on the floor. you bite the edge of your lip and take the towel from hanma, starting to scoop the batter into one of the bowls.

he grabs another one off the front of the stove and after about ten agonizing minutes of scrubbing and scooping, four dirty tea towels, and chocolate cake batter smeared all over both of your fronts later—the two of you finally stand back up and admire your clean (well, as clean as it gets) kitchen floor.

you turn to your boyfriend, swiping your thumb at a smudge of batter on his chest and wiping it off on one of the towels as you offer him a sweetly sheepish smile.

“happy birthday, again,” you grin, palm splayed flat on shuji’s chest. “i’m sorry i fucked up and you won’t get any cake.”

and there it is again, that smirk that fits so well in the curvature of hanma’s lips, like that’s the only thing his mouth was ever meant to do. there’s a glint to his eyes in the dim kitchen light, gleaming a mischievous shade of gold as they lid themselves coyly.

“nah, don’t worry,” he hums, tugging you into him, pressing you to his chest as he leans closer to your face. and you discover the reason behind his smirk a second later when his hand snakes down your spine and lower, giving your ass a cheeky squeeze as he simpers against your jaw.

“i’ll have plenty of cake.”

he’s lucky it’s his birthday, or you’d kill your boyfriend with his own gun.

reblogs appreciated !

[inkykeiji]

i have the warmth of the sun within me tonight

characters: takami keigo | hawks

genre: smut n fluff

notes: this piece was written with someone specific in mind, but i wanted to share it here, too!! this is, by far, the healthiest and most wholesome piece i’ve ever posted on my blog ehehe | title cred: the warmth of the sun by the beach boys

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, reader is extremely scared of thunderstorms, v romantic, shower sex, minimal prep, slight size difference/size kink

words: 4.6k

synopsis:

“Make it stop, Kei, please, m-make it stop, make it go away,” the words are nearly inaudible, wept into his chest and muffled by his jacket, snarled, snared, snagged on the choked sobs and gagged sniffles that scrabble and tear at your throat with their razored talons.

And even drenched, clothes sopping with rainwater, he’s still so warm, like he has liquid sun flowing through his veins, scalding waves of heat radiating off of his body and seeping into yours, cozy and consoling as it douses you, as it sinks into your skin, your bones, your soul itself and marinates there, twisting and twirling into a small ball of sunshine, of him, that sends pulsing zaps of warmth circulating through your flesh.

It’s dark. It’s so dark it almost looks like night despite the fact that it’s only late afternoon, heavy bloated clouds—charcoal and fluffy and overstuffed with raindrops—obscuring the safety of comforting golden rays from the entire city.

The torrential downpour feels endless, and for a brief second you’re terrified it truly may never stop, streets below having flooded with the rain, cars slowly wading through them, tires spraying out streams of water as they do.

Magnificent strikes of lightning crack through the dreary sky like thick roots snaking through the foggy canopy of smoke and steel, momentarily tainting them in shades of periwinkle and lavender and casting flashes of brilliant silver light across the skyscrapers and condominiums.

Their sudden presence makes you jolt, a rapid shudder working its way through your entire body, skin pebbling with chills in its wake.

But it isn’t the lightning that bothers you—not really, anyway.

It’s what comes after.

Rumbles of thunder so loud, so violent they cause the glass windows of Keigo’s apartment to quiver and the hardwood beneath your feet to tremble, roll through the sky, and you swear you can see the clouds ripple from the force.

Arms squeezing tighter around your body, your fingers curl in the material of your—his—hoodie, desperately attempting to resist the urge to grab your phone, to frantically scroll through social media as worried eyes scan for any mention of his name, for shreds of dreadful news, for things you never want to hear.

You hate it when he has to work in storms such as these. And you know, you know you shouldn’t be watching the sky, shouldn’t be searching the splotches of gunmetal adorning the atmosphere for a glimmer of scarlet and gold, shouldn’t be standing so close to the pristine glass windows that your uneven puffs of nervous breath cloud them, tiny blankets of condensation left by the hot air you exhale fleetingly staining the surface, evaporating into nothing just as quickly as they appear.

But you can’t help it. It’s a compulsion, almost—like some sort of sick obsession, some sort of twisted addiction you can’t control. Because—Because you have to know, unable to stand that feeling of uncertainty that gnaws away at your insides, incapable of handling the ambiguity and vagueness that comes packaged with the not knowing. You have to at least try—try to do everything in your power to stay informed, and if that means facing a vicious thunderstorm head on, with your cheek pressed against the cold glass as your gaze searches the tumultuous sky, then so be it.

You can brave it for him. You swear you can.

“Baby,” he scolds gently, his sudden presence surprising you, causing you to throw a quick glance over your shoulder. Topaz eyes observe you, overflowing with concern, pretty bowed lips turning down, soaked strands of gold hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks and neck. “How many times have I told you not to do this?” And although he’s reprimanding you, his voice is sweet, smooth and syrupy like the finest honey. “You know how much thunder freaks you out,”

You scoff, stiffening almost defensively as you turn your nose up a little, still avoiding his eyes. “It doesn’t freak me out,”

“Oh?” he laughs a little as he kicks off his boots, tension easing from his shoulders with every step towards you, every step further into the warm sanctuary of your shared home, wet sock-clad feet slapping against the hardwood and leaving gleaming footprints.

“Kei,” you whine a little, gesturing his dripping body. “You’re getting water everywhere,”

“Hey now,” a playful smirk spreads across his lips, and a sudden, sharp whoosh slices through the air as his wings spread, spanning nearly half the living room. He gives them one good, thorough shake, crimson feathers trembling and sending tiny droplets of water flying. “I wasn’t done,” he speaks over your squeal of his name, smirk growing into that trademark mischievous grin. “You shouldn’t just stand at the window and stare up at the sky—it only scares you more,”

“I’m not scared,”

Vicious growls of thunder roil through the sky before you’re even finished speaking, almost as if it’s laughing at you, mocking you, your body flinching as the sounds crash over you, curling in on yourself a little, face puckered up in a wince as your words stutter, catching on a gasp in your throat.

Exhaling a soft sigh, Keigo holds his arms open wide, wings still stretched to span them. “Yeah, right. C’mere,” When you don’t begin moving immediately, he sighs again, strong hands gently pulling you towards him.

Your body melts into his touch—an automatic and involuntary reaction, almost instinctual at this point—and you slump against his damp chest, nuzzling your cheek against the firm muscles.

“I’ve got you,” he says softly, arms wrapping around your body as he holds you tightly to his, voice reverberating against your ear. “The Big Bad Scary Thunder can’t get you here,”

Eyes rolling, you scoff at his playful teasing, a tiny smile materializing on your face as you pull away a little to look up at him, greeted with the sight of brilliant eyes—made of sunshine and liquid gold, you’re absolutely sure of it—gazing down at you, lips quirked in a cute little smirk.

His beauty never fails to knock the breath from your chest—it seems you can never be prepared for it; no matter how many times you’ve seen him, how many times you’ve been close enough to count the individual eyelashes lining those orbs, how many times you’ve been close enough to feel the inviting tickle of the short golden hairs decorating his chin—and you’re not sure you’ll never get used to it, either.

A peculiar mix of adoration and concern swirl in his honey irises, though you can see the mirth and amusement dancing just beyond that, thinly veiled by the love and worry.

“Oh, shut up—” another bang of thunder fissures through the sky, so raucous it makes the thick clouds waver and swell, your words morphing into a fearful little squeak, quickly burying your head back against the safety of his chest.

Fingers curl in the wet suede and you hug yourself closer to him, tugging him closer to you, body beginning to shudder.

He’s hushing you now, arms and wings curled around you in a defensive embrace as words of comfort pry past his lips, tender voice sheathing the armor of crimson surrounding you.

“At least they aren’t as bad as the ones back home, yeah?”

“I guess so,” you mumble, unconvinced, eyebrows knitted and mouth sculpted into a deep pout. “I still don’t like them, though,”

“I know, I know,” a warm hand rubs soothing circles into your back, voice only marginally louder than the next bout of thunder as it vibrates against your face, another quiet yelp clawing its way up your throat. “Shh, you’re safe, you’re safe,”

“Kei,”

The nickname escapes in a mangled little whimper, and you can feel it—fright, terror, dread—building in your chest, a strangling type of panic that weaves and winds itself around your windpipe and crushes; because they’re getting worse, they’re getting closer, growls and grumbles following the flashes of lightning almost immediately, roaring loud enough to quake buildings, your heart thudding so violently it’s almost painful. Tears sting your eyes, and you shake your head against him, as if trying to burrow into his chest, to carve out a little space in his ribcage, right next to his steadily beating heart, and live there.

“I-I take it back, they are as bad as the ones back home,”

Or, at least, this one is

Keigo doesn’t argue, all traces of amusement evaporated from his face, replaced by trepidation that mixes with his worry and pinches his features, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned as he cradles you against him. Ferocious tremors course through your form, chest beginning to hitch with swallowed sobs, and he squeezes you.

“Make it stop, Kei, please, m-make it stop, make it go away,” the words are nearly inaudible, wept into his chest and muffled by his jacket, snarled, snared, snagged on the choked sobs and gagged sniffles that scrabble and tear at your throat with their razored talons.

And even drenched, clothes sopping with rainwater, he’s still so warm, like he has liquid sun flowing through his veins, scalding waves of heat radiating off of his body and seeping into yours, cozy and consoling as it douses you, as it sinks into your skin, your bones, your soul itself and marinates there, twisting and twirling into a small ball of sunshine, of him, that sends pulsing zaps of warmth circulating through your flesh.

“Okay, alright,” he’s saying as he rocks you gently, crimson wings wrapped entirely around you both, shielding you from the storm. The scent of freshly mown grass and sticky vanilla ice cream is nearly overwhelming as it washes over your senses, invading your lungs and smothering you in its embrace. It’s a welcomed feeling, the beautiful suffocation it affords you with, vibrant bursts of heat rushing through your veins, whole body flooded and thrumming with a deep-seated comfort—a special type of solace, of reassurance, of contentment unique to him, unfathomable and mystifying on all accounts, that soothes your frayed nerves and calms your irregular heart—because he smells like home; not your home halfway across the world, your real home, your forever home.

“Come,” he instructs a moment later, stern yet tender, keeping an arm draped firmly around your shoulders, one of his wings curving around the limb as he leads you away from the window, scarlet feathers obstructing your vision.

—

The bathroom—comprised of gleaming marble and shining chrome—is enormous, housing a mammoth glass shower that spans the length of the furthest wall, large enough to more-than-comfortably accommodate his wings, and then some.

Steam fogs the glass, and a soft hiss slips from between your teeth as he cages you between his chiseled body and the freezing marble, cold rock stinging your already heated skin, his wings spreading to mimic his arms, providing another layer of protection and entirely immersing you in him.

It’s your favourite when he does this, when he engulfs you in his grasp and creates a tiny universe where it’s just the two of you, whole world having fallen away outside of the barricade his thick wings offer—and you’ve never felt safer.

And it’s amazing, you’re thinking to yourself—or maybe you’re murmuring it, lips moving in a daze—it’s amazing how even after all of the rainwater pouring from the sky, all of the zipping through those dense clouds, all of the vicious wind that whips against him as he soars; none of it could ever manage to wash away, to ever dull, his intoxicating scent, not even for a second.

You’re completely overcome by him, vanquished by his enamoring eyes and his saccharine smile—drunk and high off of it all, addicted to him in the sweetest way—and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

But you’re leaning into him, closer and closer and closer, lips parted as you inhale deeply, filling your lungs, your chest, your heart and veins and blood with his aura, his essence, him. He conquers you, intoxicates you, poisons you in such a beautiful way, and you’re enchanted by it, yearning for more, a greedy and insatiable craving that will never be fulfilled.

And he knows it. He knows the effect he has on you by merely existing near you—his cocky smirk and dazzling gaze tell you so.

But then his eyes soften, glazing over with something else, lidded as they slowly travel across your body bared to him, and his mouth falls open only for his tongue to suck his bottom lip between his teeth, and his fingers reach to trace your features, the curve of your cheek and line of your jaw, the most gentle caress.

“You…Are breathtaking,”

And he really does sound out of breath, as if he’s in awe from your beauty, as if this is his first time seeing you, as if you’re some sort of goddess, having descended right in front of him, and it forces chills to erupt across your bare skin—damp and splattered with tiny droplets of water that gleam like morning dew clinging to grass—despite how boiling it is between him and the steam from the shower.

It’s a feeling you can’t quite explain, a feeling you’ve never really been able to find the appropriate words for, something that makes you feel simultaneously powerful and weak, a swirling concoction of contradictions that invade your bloodstream and travel straight to your brain, infusing the tissues with the potent mix and sending tiny sparks buzzing through your veins, collecting to flutter together in the pit of your stomach.

He kisses you slowly, tonight. He kisses you like it’s his last day to live, kisses you like it’s his first time, unhurried tongue deliberately exploring the concavities of your mouth—every nook and ridge and crevice—as if committing them to memory, as if attempting to leave his stamp, his mark, his claim, on the real estate there.

He kisses you until neither of you can breathe, lungs shriveling as your chests heave, exhaling into each other’s mouths only to suck breath from each other’s mouths a moment later. He kisses you until you’re dizzy from the lack of air and he’s burning and hard and pressed up against your thigh, leaking head rubbing against the supple skin, leaving the prettiest gleaming trails of cream. He kisses you until you’ve gone stupid from his spit alone, fervent in the way you swallow it greedily, in the way you attempt to suck, slurp, steal more from him as it surges to your brain, tissues and nerves vaporizing into nothing more than a dazed mist, spiked with him.

The kiss breaks with a sharp whoosh of air, his lids lifting to reveal glassy pupils outlined with the thinnest ring of amber. Your tongue darts out from your mouth to lick and lap at the stringy, viscous remnants coating your chin; starved, ravenous, and forever unsated.

The chuckle huffed out from between swollen, saliva-soaked lips is nothing short of sinful, makes your vision blur and your stomach swoop, a murmured tease following it.

“Eager, aren’t you,”

And you want to point out that you weren’t the one practically humping someone’s hip, but the words tangle in your throat, catching on a gasp as nimble fingers slip between the apex of your thighs, an involuntary groan spilling from his throat.

“Fuck,” his head falls forward, face buried in your neck, and sucks an inhale through his teeth. “How are you already this wet?”

He’s nearly whining as he dips two fingers into you, soft little sounds that fall from his lips and sop into your skin, his breath scorching—sizzling more than the steam in the shower—against your neck.

And those fingers, now plunging into you, knuckles curling the moment they’re deep enough to press moans from your chest and cries from your throat, feel so familiar as they stretch you open—the same fingers that pet your hair and brush away your tears and feed you pieces of fried chicken; they feel like home.

Yet as comforting as that is, as much as it has your chest swelling with something so large, so dense you’re terrified your ribs may shatter and splinter under the strain, they aren’t enough. Not right now, not today.

Because even with the water hitting the tiles and the exquisite symphony of his pants and your mewls, you can still hear it, menacing blasts encroaching on you, deep and heavy and threatening to split the little world Keigo has created, the small haven his wings and arms provide.

“Please, please, Kei,” you’re nearly wailing out, forcing bleary eyes to open, belated in the way they find his gaze. “I-I want you, I need you,”

“Sweetheart,” he starts—and you know that tone, stitched together with hesitation and concern and embellished with thin ribbons of patronization. “You know you can’t take me without being opened up at least a lil’ first,”

Another clap of thunder rattles the apartment, sounding as if it’s just outside the bathroom door, ranting and raging to get in, and both of your hands claw at his wrist, trying to pull his hand away as words bubble past your lips, high and terrified and desperate.

“No, Kei, not tonight. Please, baby, please, I need you now, right now, Kei, right now, pl-please,” and you’re nearly choking on the pleads as they barrel up your throat and out your mouth, all garbled together and stuffed with spit. “I can handle it, promise,”

A hoarse whine hitches in his throat, the worried knitting of his eyebrows carving creases into his forehead. With pinched features and a scrunched face, it looks almost as if he’s in pain; like it’s pure agony to deny you. And you can see it, can see the internal struggle reflected in his eyes, stare wrought with the tug and pull between desire and care. But that need is growing, spreading, curling around your organs in a tight embrace, suffocating you with its urgency.

A final please, Keigo, croaked out in a broken whimper and thick with the threat of tears, is what breaks him, shatters his resolve to a fine dust and whisks it away in one breath.

“Alright,” he’s murmuring, though his voice is strained, tense and gruff under the combined paradoxical weight of lust and apprehension. “Alright, hush now, I’ve got you,”

Then he’s hoisting you up, and your legs are wrapping around his waist, one hand clutching the top of the glass door, the other digging bruises into his neck as he buries his cock inside of you in one swift movement, a set of relieved gasps escaping you both.

It stings a little, sharp pinpricks shooting through your gut as his thick cock stretches you open, but they’re chased promptly by thorns of pleasure that dissipate the pain.

Because he feels so good, and you feel so full, and everything feels so perfect like this—everything feels right again.

But a boom of thunder explodes through this moment, blowing it to bits and pieces, and you reflexively jump, whole body flinching in his arms.

“Shh,” he’s whispering to you as he pulls you closer, chest pressed flush against yours. “Don’t worry, songbird, I’m gonna make it better, alright? Just focus on me,”

And so you do, eyes slipping shut as his hips begin to pump—slow at first, almost languid in the way they roll forward, each thrust thorough, cock nearly entirely unsheathed before it plunges back in, the head nudging your cervix, and you revel in the delicious cracks rasps—of your name, of curses, and praises—that fall from his lips with each rut.

“S’deep,” you mumble, words already jumbled from the carnal bliss, from the hedonistic decadence that surrounds you, emanating off him and percolating into you, instantly diffusing the tension and panic knotted like thick vines in your chest—even though he’s barely fucking done anything. “S’deep, Kei,”

“Yeah?” the word fans across your face, sweet and fragrant, hazy eyes opening to be met with glittering gold, strands of honeysuckle hair stuck to his forehead and temples, framing the dark gaze watching you, pupils almost voracious in the way they soak up your expressions, almost greedy in the way they scan your face as his hips move, looking for more. His forehead knocks against yours, penetrating stare boring into your face. “Good? My baby like it?”

“So good,” your head nods in small movements with the whimpered affirmation, bumping against his. It’s already beginning to build, smoldering deep in the pit of your stomach, the spark that had been dulled when you had begged him to stop, begged him to give you more—to stretch and fill and form you like your insides were made for him—reigniting, bright and scalding.

“More, please,”

It just slips from your lips, brain already beginning to melt as you allow yourself to be submerged, swallowed and consumed by him; an innate desire that swamps your mind and floods your senses, and you want it all.

But he complies without complaint this time, void of the usual teasing remarks and requests that you beg for it, because he can see how depleted, how drained you are, utterly exhausted from the terror of the storm, his understanding evident in a gentle confirmation tumbling from his lips.

And his groans and grunts are so beautiful, vibrating deep in the recesses of his chest, louder than any thunder as they rumble in your ears. You find solace in them, gulping them in as he pushes them out, letting them vibrate down the column of your throat and collect deep in your belly, kindling with the flickering embers that burn and glow and multiply with each thrust, furling together in a tense ball of churning heat.

The canting of his hips increases, faster and faster and faster with each rock forward, the escalating force resulting in your body to rubbing against the marble and glass, tightly curled fingers readjusting themselves, slipping a little from the foggy condensation coating the surface.

You don’t even realize that your sensitive skin’s been rubbed raw from the action, too tangled up in his noises, his pleasure, his cock, to notice, too tangled up in him to care at all.

“Here,” Keigo pants out, hips suddenly stilling. A low whine catches in your throat, eyebrows furrowing as you attempt to fuck yourself on his cock, a breathless snicker escaping his parted lips. “I know, baby, I know,” he’s telling you as strong arms readjust you, folded wings suddenly spanning, a gentle gust of air bathing your slick body in little goosebumps, before they wrap around him—around you—sheltering you from the glass and marble as they swoop under your ass and thighs, aiding Keigo in supporting your weight. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you, I promise,”

And it’s so much hotter like this, so much more intimate like this, uneven puffs of breath mingling as his forehead rests against yours, florescent lights reflecting off of his thick feathers and tinting everything—his skin, his eyes, his hair—scarlet.

The sudden snap of his hips startles a moan out of you, and he laughs again, carmine-tinged topaz eyes positively glowing. And he looks so gorgeous like this, looks like a fucking god like this, those fine gold hairs that cover his body catching in the soft light and shimmering.

He’s kissing, licking, nipping anywhere he can reach, stamping your flesh with physical manifestations of his love, pace never faltering as skilled, powerful hips continue to pound into you, cockhead dragging against that spot with every buck.

Your legs flex around his waist, muscles coiling as the sphere roiling in your stomach blazes, curled into a concentrated ball of fire. The heat it exudes is nearly unbearable now, heavy as it sinks into your gut, glowing orb spiraling as it coils, tighter and tighter and tighter until—

“Want you to cum for me, baby,” Keigo nearly keens, almost as if he’s begging you instead of commanding, voice cutting through the dense haze your brain has evaporated into. “Can y’do that for me? Be good and cum all over my cock?”

Yes, yes, yes, your head is nodding, emitting affirmatives in the form of high little mewls with each jerk. And it only takes two more sharp pistons of his hips before the fire-filled ball bursts, half of his name escaping your throat in a fractured cry as your entire body stiffens, cunt clenching so vigorously it’s almost painful.

Words start to spill from his mouth, an endless stream of praises, sandwiched between dark groans and broken whines and hitched curses; Y’so good for me, y’know that? Ah, f-fuck—So gorgeous when you gush all over my—my cock, baby, y’feel so good, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Hot, thick cum fills you suddenly, coinciding with his last choked out declaration of love, cock throbbing as it spurts rope after rope, taut stuttering hips pressed flush against your skin.

—

Everything aches as you unwind your limbs from around him, muscles sore and legs trembling as Keigo forces you to stand, propping you up against the shower wall and returning with the fluffiest towel only a moment later. Large hands pull you towards him, dragging you from under the shower head and into his arms, swaddling your shivering body in Egyptian cotton and strong arms and soft feathers.

He leaves the shower running on purpose, steady flow of water hitting the tiled floor and marbled wall, efficiently drowning out any roars or claps of thunder.

And you’re so tired, so pliant and boneless in his arms, barely able to keep your weighted eyelids from fluttering shut. He keeps you in his lap as he sits on the closed toilet, cradling you to his chest as best he can as he gently rocks you back and forth, whispering out praises—you did so well, you always look so gorgeous taking my cock—and avowals of his love, constant words oozing from his lips, sentiments cascading over your body like a stream of thick syrup.

Unconsciousness has you in its clutches, nearly slipping into the familiar embrace that promises the numbing ecstasy that comes with such an intense orgasm, until your tummy growls, and Keigo laughs.

“No, sweetheart,” he chides softly as you nuzzle into his chest, an indignant noise sounding at the back of your throat. “You have to eat at least a little before you can fall asleep,”

“Don’wanna,”

“I know,” he’s saying sympathetically as he stands, placing your feet on the floor a moment later. You wobble a little, eyes still shut, and he chuckles again, murmuring to himself about how fucking cute you are as he begins to dress you, tugging soft fleece that reeks of him over your head.

—

The rain has slowed to a drizzle by the time you’ve been clothed and fed, constant and leaking from the clouds overhead as you snuggle against Keigo in the plush sanctuary of your shared bed, tummy full and happy with roasted chicken and sauteed veggies. A deep contentment settles itself in your bones, weaving itself around the ivory in a protective glaze and imbuing you with a sense of calm, a sense of relaxation, a sense of relief, and you hum, Keigo’s lithe fingers trailing up your spine absentmindedly.

If you’re being honest, you’re not quite sure how he did it, how he slipped, slithered, seeped through the few cracks in your defence without being violent, without being forceful—how he tore down all of the barricades and shields you had built around yourself, hardened and firm from several years of paranoia and distrust, from the perpetual fear of being hurt again. It should scare you, really, how quickly he did it, how easily and inconspicuously he did it. But it doesn’t.

It doesn’t, because he did it with love; stripping those protective walls with genuity and sincerity, dismantling every brick and stone with gentle touches and soft kisses and tender words. He did it with respect, with patience, with passion and affection and devotion.

So it doesn’t, because there’s nothing to fear—because you’ve never felt more safe in your life, here enveloped by his strong arms and cozy wings, resting on his chest, legs tangled in knots together.

And as you drift off to the gentle pat-pat-pat of the raindrops against the windowpane and the steady thumping of Keigo’s heart echoing in your ears, you realize he’s your very own ray of sunshine, forever present to keep those menacing clouds and malicious thunder away, even in the strongest, the harshest, and the scariest of storms.

[accio-moony]

Escape || Remus Lupin x Reader SMUT

Request: no. A/N: I’ve been working on this for months. I am disgusted with myself for taking so long. Not fully edited, so probably lots of mistake. Forgive me. Word Count: ~9k Characters/Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, James, Lily, and Harry Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew Summary: [NO VOLDEMORT AU, post Hogwarts Marauder’s era]It’s near a full moon, but you and your boyfriend Remus are going to Harry’s fifth (5th) birthday celebration. Remus gets really turned on when he sees you with Harry and tries to control it, but he can’t. WARNINGS: face fucking, breeding kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, spanking, marking (scratching, hicks, biting), grinding hair pulling, choking, teasing, dom/sub relationship, overstimulation, dirt talk [all in no particular order god I’m disgusting] *not my gifs*

A loud crash sounds from outside your bathroom, making you jump in surprise and almost slip on the slick shower floor. Out of instinct, your arms come up to cover your chest, though the curtain covers you and whoever it was hasn’t made it to the bedroom yet. Quickly, you turn the water off, and you’re left cold as the remaining hot water runs off of your body. You grab the fluffy towel you had set out and wrap it around your frame before picking your wand up from the counter and slowly opening the bathroom door. You sneakily move to the bedroom doorway and peak down the hall. A tall shadowed figure stands in the great room, a duffle bag in one of his hands, a wand in the other.

“Y/n” the familiar voice calls to you when the man sees you. “Hold on. Lumos.” A small orb of light sits at the end of the man’s wand, and you can quickly identify the face of your boyfriend of several years, Remus, from under the blue-glow of the wand’s light.

“Oh, Remus,” you sigh, and your shoulders relax. “You scared me.” You walk down the hall to him and smack his arm playfully.

“Hmm, I missed you, too,” he grumbles and leans down, kissing you.

The kiss is soft and quick, but still holds all the love you’ve both built up over the years. When he pulls his lips away from yours, you whine, not yet having opened your eyes as you revel in the messed feelings of his lips on yours. He had just spent two weeks with one of his best mates, Sirius, but he was now home.

“Rem,” you say as you open your eyes, but he’s no longer standing in front of you. “Remus?” You call and turn back down the hall.

You find him in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed next to his duffle bag which he had put down. His head leans into his hands as his elbows rest on his knees. You move from the hall to stand between his legs, but he doesn’t look up at you. You carefully grab his cheeks in your hands and pull his face up so he’s looking at you, but he keeps his eyes closed with furrowed brows. 

His actions confuse you. He’s usually very affectionate with you, loving any touch you give him. Slightly confused by his lack of reaction, you think of any obvious reason he could be acting this way, and your mind found the answer rather quickly: the full moon is in just two days. You turn your head back to him, not saying a word as you remove one hand from his cheek and trace your index finger down the bridge of his nose. He softens under your touch this time and quickly reaches up to wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer so he can rest his head on your belly.

You giggle as you run your fingers through his hair. “I thought we had planned to meet at James’s, honey?” You question him. 

At the mention of the small celebration that takes place in just over an hour, Remus drops his arms from your waist and leaned back on his elbows with his head lolled back, and of course, you take immediate notice to his change in demeanor.

“We don’t have to go, Rem,” you quickly counter. “We can stay home, just the two of us, in bed if you’d like.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You want to go. I would want to go if I weren’t so… well, you know. And they’re expecting us.” He looks into your eyes as he stands from the bed, his tall frame making you stumble back a few steps as he becomes unexpectedly close, towering over you several inches. He places his hands on your shoulders, steadying you as he plants a kiss to your cheek, but his lips linger and wander back towards your ear, his breath hot against your skin making your blood boil. “I’ll be fine,” he says lowly, “but you better go finish getting ready before I change my mind.” His hand slides down and then under your arm, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer until your chest is pressed against his own. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” His lips trail back over your cheek and jaw until they reach your lips. He captures yours with his own in a hungry kiss, the hand not around your waist wrapping into your still wet hair and pulling it backwards so he has better access to your mouth. The tension of the pull makes you let out a whiny moan into the kiss as your skin heats up.

You pull away and look into his eyes. They’re dark with lust and hunger. “Go,” he demands, and you scurry into the bathroom, Remus clapping his hand on your butt as you walk away, closing the door behind you and finishing getting ready. 

Once the door is closed behind you, Remus pushes his hand down on his semi, trying to give it some sort of relief. You don’t know yet, but he had gone to spend some time with Sirius, because they were discussing how Remus would ask you to marry him, and he had picked out the ring. You’re the only person in his life to ever make him feel normal and worthy of love. You had convinced him, after many years, that he is not a monster. He’s just Remus, with a furry-little-problem once a month. It had taken him years to believe you, and sometimes it’s still hard for him to, but you had shown him that his lycanthropy does not define who he is, and that he is, in your words, the best guy you’ve ever met and ever will meet. It wasn’t until the both of you left Hogwarts that he knew you were right. He knew you would always be by his side, no matter what condition, no matter what happens. You stood with him for the seven years of Hogwarts like you had known him all your life. You didn’t bat an eye when he told you about him, and you worked with his fellow marauders to become an animagus for him, so you could be with him for his transformations, not just to take care of him on the ends of it. He knows, and as his friends have pointed out on many occasions, you would never leave him. You love him too much. Remus would have to do something truly terrible for you to leave his side. After having convinced himself for so long that he could never have a real family, or even friends, you finally made him grow comfortable enough to the idea to believe he can, though he hadn’t told you yet. To your knowledge, he was still an insecure boy who thought he could never love. He knew you wouldn’t stop until you knew you had convinced him, and then you’d continue reinforcing the idea from then on. He’s able to imagine you with a grown baby, carrying his child, but he never mentioned it to anyone until this past holiday when he told Sirius. He had always pushed the thought aside, not wanting to get his hopes up, not wanting to pass his lycanthropy to an innocent infant. If you loved him for what he is, and you take care of him, then he knows you would do the same for your child, but the thought of passing the trait still terrifies him, but to a lesser extent. 

He turns to his bag on the bed and pulls the small velvet box out of the hidden pocket inside, going to hide it in one of his drawers, one you never go in — his underwear drawer. He opens the box, admiring the ring for a moment. The ring is small, simple but elegant, and he knows you’ll love it, he knows it reflects your personality and relationship perfectly. It’s simple: besides all the crazy stuff in between, the main picture is just love — the only thing that matters in the relationship. He still has to decide how to ask you. He knows he wants it to be romantic, but he also wants it to be as soon as possible. The romantic part isn’t difficult, it’s the having to wait until they’re not so close to the full moon. He could ask you tonight, before the gathering, but he doesn’t want you to think of it as a rash decision he made because of the full moon. If it was, he would’ve asked you months ago, maybe on a night where you were scolding him for trying to drink away the post-transformation pain. Quite the contrary, really. Usually, during a full moon, he’d get more self-conscious, feel more like you deserve better, but the full moons have begun to prove to him that he will marry you. You’re always there no matter what, and you always will be. He knows that, and he wants to keep it that way.

He hears the bathroom door open, and he quickly shoves the box haphazardly into the drawer.

“What’re you doing?” You ask him suspiciously.

“Uh,” he grabs a random pair of long black socks. “Looking for these,” he excuses, turning to you as he holds up the socks for you to see. It’s then he notices you’re in your favorite matching black lace bra and thong, and he curses his blood for running hot and straight to his groin. 

“Uh-huh,” you nod, still skeptical as you walk closer to him. 

As you reach the closet and start to look for an outfit, he quickly closes the drawer to try to hide the box from you.

He rummages through his clothes, picking out a plain white dress shirt with a dark red cable-knit sweater that contrasts just enough to wear with the pair of jeans he already had on and his favorite sneakers, sporting his signature comfortable-but-intelligent, soft attire and just enough of his old house colors. He puts the clothes on the bed with a subtle tie and pulls his jumper over his head, leaving him bare. In the mirror, you can see his back muscles flex and tense as he pulls the dress shirt up over his shoulders and start to button it. You walk over to him, laying the skirt and top you chose next to his outfit and helping him button up his shirt. 

“Let me help,” you smirk as you grab his shirt, looking up into his amber eyes innocently. You let your fingers trace over his muscles and is scars as you admire it all, never shying away from his flaws. When the shirt is buttoned, you grab the tie from the bed and toss it around his neck, grabbing the other end as it comes around and tugging his neck so he gets to a height where you can stand on your toes and kiss him passionately, biting and pulling on his lower lip as you pull away, releasing it softly as you lick your lips, looking into his pupil-blown eyes. 

As casually as possible, you step back from him and grab your clothes. First your mini skirt, pulling it over your bum and purposely squeezing into it give Remus a show. You grab your semi-casual blouse and pull it on, then tucking the bottom hem into the skirt. 

By this point Remus had his tie done and was pulling the sweater over his head, smoothing it down his chest. You grab your small wedges and wand before walking towards the door. 

“Let’s go, Remmy,” you call to him as you walk into and down the hall, your hips naturally swaying with each step.

Behind you, when he sees your hips move like that, Remus growls under his breath, but quickly subdues it with a cough as he follows you, grabbing his own wand on the way out, failing to pretend he could get the image of your plump ass out of his head. You grab the gift-wrapped box for the party, and the two of you went into the front garden, just by the old, rickety front gate. Remus holds his arm out to you, and you take it, preparing yourself for the sickening feeling of apparation. Your feet are lifted off the ground as you swirl into a spaceless darkness, squeezing through time and space in a way that would be nauseating to anyone who didn’t do it several times a day. 

It had been several hours since you and Remus had arrived at James and Lily’s house. You were in the kitchen with Lily, talking about what life is like, and how it changes once you marry and have children. You want that with Remus, and you had since before the two of you left Hogwarts. In Remus’ eyes, to your knowledge, he could never put that burden on someone for the rest of their lives. He didn’t want to risk passing his lycanthropy on to his children, who did nothing wrong, did nothing to deserve the condition, no matter how often you remind Remus that he didn’t do anything wrong, that he didn’t do anything to deserve the painful monthly transition. You wish you could make him see himself through your eyes, make him see how perfect he is. You wish you could make him see himself through his friends eyes, make him see how James, Sirius, and Peter adore him. You’ve confided in Lily about this before, and every time, she tells you how James tells her the same thing, wishing his friend could see how much he’s truly worth. The conversation dies down when you don’t respond, but just think about your boyfriend and how amazing he is. It upsets you to see his self-esteem so low. 

Your mind shifts back to when you were getting ready, and how Remus touched you, how he kissed you. You feel your skin heat up and your insides churn just thinking about it. You know it’s only a few nights to the full moon, and those nights, Remus gets sexually needy and rough. It’s something you love from him. He’s usually a softer lover, and you admire him for that, but sometimes you need something more stimulating. That need is rare for you and strangely correlates perfectly with his own

You squeeze your thighs together, trying to find some friction, but you are unsatisfied. You leave the kitchens and find Remus in the living room with his friends. He’s sat back in the couch, almost zoned out. You go to walk towards him with a simple innocent smile on your face, but you’re stopped when you feel a small hand grab your own. 

“Aunt Y/n!” You hear Harry call from behind you. You turn to him, giving him a big smile.

“Hi, Harry!” You exclaim. “Happy birthday!” “Thank you,” he says politely and hugs around your legs.

You chuckle and get an idea, a potentially dangerous idea. With your back towards Remus, you bend at your waist to lift Harry in your arms, but, as you hoped, your skirt rides up your hips, exposing just enough of your thong to Remus that you can feel his eyes burning into your back. You conceal your smirk with a big smile as you talk to Harry, “Where’s your mommy, huh?” Your knuckles nip around his nose playfully as you hold him in your arms, balanced on your hip as you walk into the kitchen with him still in your arms. Sweetly, he lays his head against your shoulder, and almost immediately falls asleep. Lily coos at her son when he she’s you with him. 

“I don’t see how Remus isn’t dying to see you like this with his child,” she comments, kissing her sons head. 

“I may bring it up to him again soon,” you comment. “I want him to know I truly want a life with him. But I’ll wait until a week or so after this full moon. I don’t want to aggravate him.”

Meanwhile, back in the living room, Remus looks over at Sirius once you’ve gone out of sight and ear-shot. “Fucking, damn-it,” he swears, unintentionally getting all of his friends attention. He blushes, trying to act like he didn’t just say that in a most aggravated tone.

“What is it?” James asks his friend, his eyebrow raised.

“I, uh —“ he starts, but is cut off.

“Can I tell them?” Sirius tries to, but fails to whisper to Remus. “Please?”

“Tell us what?”

“We’ll there’s no point hiding it now,” Remus sighs, giving Sirius at death glare. “You’ve gone and told them somethings up.”

“Great!” Sirius turns back to James and Peter. “He’s taking the jump.”

After a moment of confused silence, and Remus rolling his eyes, Peter speaks up. “The what?”

“The jump: he’s going to ask her!” Sirius explains, giddily happy. 

“Finally!” James exclaims.

Remus blushes deeply, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s no point not to. She’s everything to me… and she’s proved time and time again that I’m everything to her. She’s the only person to ever have made me feel normal, worthy of love.”

James and Sirius start high-fiving excitedly. 

“I mean, I already knew at this point that starting a family would be a part of this, but Merlin, seeing her with Harry like that just makes my heart want to explode.” Remus pulls a pillow off the couch and into his lap. “It’s turning me on, you know?..” He says under his breath. “Plus, I think she’s teasing me.”

“I’ve got this!” James says and stands up.

Sirius and Remus both grab his wrists, making him sit back down. 

“Don’t you dare—“ Remus starts, but it’s too late. James sets his plan into motion.

“Harry!” James calls from the living room, giving Remus a wink.

Harry’s head shoots up off your shoulder at the sound of his father calling his name. 

“We’ll see,” you smile to Lily, ending your conversation and turning out of the kitchen with Harry still in your arms. By the time you’ve reached the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, he’s wiggling so much that it’s difficult for you to keep hold of him. Again, you bend at the waist and place his little feet on the ground. Your blouse falling slightly and exposing your cleavage as you had  secretly hoped. You stand up again, and watch Harry run over to his father and jump into his lap. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Remus push a pillow down onto his lap and cross his legs. You smirk to yourself and look at him, his eyes boring you a hungry look, and you decide that you have to use the bathroom, meaning you’d walk right by him. You walk across the living room, tucking a stand of hair behind your ear as you head to the bathroom in the next hall, passing the end of the couch that Remus is seated on. When you get close enough to him, he reaches over the arm of the couch and grabs your waist, the side opposite him. He spins you and pulls you so you’re sitting in his lap, and he slyly removes the pillow, making you land right on his cock. You squeal slightly on your way down, and when you feel his hot breath against your ear for the second time tonight, you can’t help but squirm in his lap, “accidentally” creating friction between the two of you. 

Remus’ hands grab your hips and hold them still, holding you down against him.

“You feel that, babygirl?” He asks in a hushed voice so only you can hear him as he pushes his hips up from the couch, his hard member pressing into you. “You got me all hot and bothered in front of all of our friends. You’re going to have to fix it for me.” He nuzzles his nose into your hair, breathing hot on your neck, and you let out a whiney moan at his words. “I would take you in the bathroom now, but with what I’ll have to do to you, there won’t be enough space in the there.” His lips graze your neck, and he unexpectedly flattens his tongue against your skin, leaving it feeling like it’s boiling. He hums at the taste of your sweat. “And I want to be the only one to hear you screaming my name. You are mine, after all.” He leaves an open mouthed kiss on your shoulder, his tongue grazing the spot at he kisses it. “So, go get your purse. We’re leaving.” His teeth nip at your ear and he pinches your butt under your skirt as he pushes you off of him. 

For a moment, you don’t move, too stunned to do anything, but to your dismay, and Remus’ impatience, his hand flattens against your lower back as he leans forward in his seat, pushing you in the direction of the kitchen. On your way stumbling into the kitchen to find your purse and say goodbye to your friends, you look over your shoulder back at the man you love. He leans closer still to his friends, saying something inaudible to you that makes them all smirk and chuckle. Blushing, you scurry over to your purse. 

“Got her,” Remus smirks from the living room to his friends.

“I honestly didn’t know you had that in you, Moony,” James laughs.

“She does things to me.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” You hear Lily from behind you.

You turn to her, your purse in hand, and you pull her into a goodbye hug. “Remus wants us to go home,” you almost whisper. 

She grabs your shoulders and pulls away from you, holding you in front of her. “Is it what I think it is?”

You smirk and look over her shoulder into the living room.

She pulls you into one more hug. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she tells you when she pulls away again. “Or anything James would do!”

Once Remus lays his eyes on you again after you’ve stepped back into the living room, he quickly stands, waiting for you as you walk over to him, and he takes your hand, pulling you away without any word to anyone.

“Bye, boys!” You call over your shoulder as your frustrated boyfriend pulls you out the front door. Your feet barely hit the garden when you’re lurching through space again, Remus disapperating from Godric’s Hollow with you on his arm. You feet hit the ground in the front garden of the home you and Remus share, and you’re instantly stumbling as he’s pulling you up the front step and into the house. He slams the door behind himself once you’ve both entered the house, locking it with a swish of his hand, as his other grabs your lower back and pulls you against him as he growls down at you with a matching look of hunger in his darkened irises.

You feel that he’s harder than he was just a moment ago when you were sat in his lap, and you could swear that you had long since soaked through your panties. 

His hand not holding your back grabs your face as he pulls your lips to his in a harsh, passionate kiss. The hand that was on your back sliding down to just under your butt as he lifts you up. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist to help him support you, and your skirt bunches up to your waist, your thong pressing against his leather belt. 

He walks forward, pushing your back against the door as his lips move from your lips to your neck, sucking and biting, effectively marking you as his own with the dark bruises he leaves behind.

You whine his name breathlessly at the feeling of his teeth, tongue, and lips all grazing and working at your neck. In hearing your name, Remus growls against your soft skin, biting down on it as he replaces your feet on the ground then pulls away, much to your displeasure. He walks backwards towards the couch, dragging you along with him by your hands. He sits down on the comfortable couch, his hands leaving yours and sliding down your sides and back towards your butt. As his hand rests on the top of your ass, he grabs the zipper of your skirt, pulling it down excruciatingly slow, but once he zipper is over the curve of your plump butt, he quickly employs the new margin of space available and shoves the skirt down your legs, letting it fall to the ground silently. Hastily, Remus’s hands grab at the back of your things, pulling them down and over to the sides of his own, making you straddle his lap. As he reconnects his lips to your own, one hand grabbing at the back of your blouse, the other cradling your face, you moan. You revel in the feeling of his plush lips for the first time this evening, being less caught up in passion where you can’t think, yet your senses are still crowded with longing. They work effortlessly against your mouth, his tongue pushing past your lips and exploring the area same as he would if he had never kissed you before, brushing over your lips, against your teeth, the inside of your cheeks, and the roof of your mouth before finally pressing his tongue down on yours, which had been begging his silently. As you two mix your mouths, you moan at the taste of him, the remainder of the one drink he had intoxicating you as if you were the one who had drank it.

You grind your hips down onto his jean-clad crotch, the denim rubbing perfectly through your soaked thong and against your aching core, a whine escaping your throat and into his mouth. Your hands slide under his sweater, then under his dress shirt, feeling his hard muscles under his warm, tan skin, littered with soft hills from scratches and wounds of the many previous full moons he’s had to endure. 

Remus leans back, detaching his lips from yours for a moment only long enough to remove the red sweater before fervently reattaching himself. His hands hold you still against him, one keeping your hips down on his own, the other holding loosely tangled in your hair. He could leave his hand in your hair for an eternity, sexual or not. He loves playing with it, twirling it between his fingers when you lay your head in his lap on the couch while he reads; he knows you love head and back massages at night and how they put you to sleep in a mere minute. Your hair is soft and silky, easy to run his hands through without getting caught on any knots or tangles. He also know how much you love it when he grabs your hair by it’s roots, tugging enough for tension but not pain, or when he puts it into a make-shift pony tail when you’re going down on him. 

Your soft lips leave the warmth of his mouth, pulling them away and down over his jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses. Your tongue brushes over his scruffy face with every kiss, tasting the salty sweat that has begun to seep from his pores the more you touch him. Trailing your lips down his neck, sucking soft marks into it, biting on his collar bone or shoulder as you pass it, your hands nimbly work at the buttons on his shirt, shaking from the excitement running through you, the continuous passion you hold for your boyfriend. Your mouth follows the buttons as the come undone down his chest, adjusting your position in his lap and on the couch to keep moving a few inches with each new free button as you kiss, lick, and suck at his supple skin.

When your tongue licks at the top of his faint happy trail, feeling his grip on you tighten, you kiss back up his chest, pushing the shirt to the sides to reveal his tones abs and pecks. Remus isn’t super muscular, he isn’t burly by any means, but he’s toned and has just enough muscles to look strong and soft at the same time. You run your fingers through the short chest hair that lightly strews across his chest as you kiss each of his scars, following them until they stop or disappear behind him. His scars are a story, they show how strong of a man he is, the man you love more than anything. His story has become your story, one you’ve loved since the beginning. 

You reach back up to his neck with your lips, kiss and continue to mark up the length of it as you return your mouth to his. You lean in just enough to feel your lips brush together softly, but you pull back when Remus tries to connect them. You smirk as you place a single, hot kiss to his lips before getting off his lap completely, sitting on your heals, your body supported by your knees on the floor in front of him. You start you lips back at the top of his happy trail again, and he pushes his hips forward, leaning back farther into the couch for both of you to be more comfortable in the coming activity. Your mouth trails down to his waistline as your hands run up and down his thighs slowly. When you reach the line of his jeans against his waist, your hands slide up, slowly, towards his belt, squeezing his painfully hard erection through his clothes as you pass. Once the buckle is free, you pull back completely, sitting back and looking up at him with your innocent doe eyes as you pull the leather from the denim loops. Your hands find the button on his jeans, quickly popping it open and then carefully attaching to the zipper as you pull it down.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of his trousers and pull down, he lifts his butt from the couch cushion enough for you to slide the fabric over his butt. You only pull to to just past his upper thighs, leaning his legs covered but giving you comfortable access to his treasure. Your soft hands rub back up his legs and over the material of his boxer briefs, finding his length and giving it a firm squeeze at the base, skidding your hand back and forth just and inch or so as you kiss at the damp spot over the tip of his cock. You slowly wipe your tongue on the spot, giving him an unsatisfying amount of friction.

His hand in your hair yanks your head back with a delectable amount of force, lifting your mouth off of him and forcing you to look up at his as you moan from the tension. He leans forward in his seat, bending low enough for his lips to be by your ear, his hot breath fading over it as he speaks. “You don’t want to tease me anymore tonight, love,” he informs you. “I had already been planning on you not being able to walk for the rest of the week.” He pauses and licks a stripe up your neck before continuing. “But now you’ve got a whole other punishment coming your way.” His hand leaves your hair for just a moment as he cups your cheek softly, leaning back a bit and pulling himself from his underwear. Once his aching cock is free, his hand on your cheek slides back into your hair, forcing you down so your mouth is next to his radiating member before sitting back into the couch completely.

Obeying, your small hands wrap around his cock, and you lick a long, wet stripe up the thick, pulsing vain on the underside. The feeling of it throbbing against your tongue, and the taste of his pre-cum when you reach his tip is almost enough to make you cum there, without being touched. You moan against him, still teasing him, still driving him mad.

His hair in your hair pulls you up only slightly as his other hand grabs and slacks your jaw, forcing you to take his delicious cock into his mouth. “Stop,” he says sternly as he thrusts up into your mouth. “Teasing,” he thrusts again, making you gag as he hits the back of your throat, unprepared. His hand in your hair loosens and his other leaves your jaw, letting you recompose yourself before further coaxing you. “Come on, Princess,” he hums softly, pushing stray hairs out of your face. “Let me see you take my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours. I know you want to, I know your desperate for it. Take my cock in your mouth, and you’ll get it nice and rough later.”

You whine at his words, quickly wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, spitting over it before lowing your mouth onto him, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you rejoice in the feeling of his cock filling your mouth. You hum against him, pleased to be providing him with pleasure. 

Remus starts grunting in time with your head and thrust up shallowly to the same rhythm. His hand drops from your hair when he thinks your ready, and they both grab the sides of your face as he fully fucks up into your mouth. Your hands flatten against his thighs, bracing yourself as you take him down your throat.

He’s grunting and groaning and praising your mouth until you feel him twitch in the back of your throat, before he roughly pulls your mouth off of him. He stands up quickly, shoving his pants the rest of the way down and taking his socks and shoes off with them, leaving them there as he pulls you up, kissing you once passionately, both of you moaning into the kiss.

His hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you farther into your home and to your bedroom. He pushes you down on the edge of the bed before climbing on, straddling your legs with his knees on either side of your thighs as his hands wrap under your arms and pull you up higher on the bed so that your head rests in the pillows.

Remus’s calloused hands slide under the fabric of your top, pushing it up before grabbing the hem and forcing it over your head. He throws the shirt to the floor somewhere on the room, somewhere neither of you cared about right now. His mouth works down your neck, leaving more marks as he crosses over and down your chest, licking at the top of your breasts above your bra before biting harshly in the same spot. You moan out, loving the feeling of his teeth against you. His nibble hands slide under your arched back, making quick work of your bra as he snaps the band and releases the clasp. That is discarded in an equally irrelevant place as your shirt. As soon as your breasts are free, he leans in, sucking one of your nipples into your mouth harshly, letting his teeth graze over it and bit down ever-so slightly as his other hand cups your opposite mound, rolling and pulling that nipple through his fingers making you moan out his name.

His lips and hand switch sides for an equal moment before they continue down the valley of your chest and your soft stomach, leaving more marks still as he makes his way to your panty-line at an agonizingly slow pace. His fingers grip into the flesh on your sides as he sucks and licks his mark onto your tummy. You’re left trying to string word together to make a sentence, but it’s all incoherent as it just comes out as breathless pants. 

You’re able to build your voice back when he just follows your panty-line across your tummy, avoiding the steaming apex of your legs that’s screaming for his attention. “Rem-“ you barely manage, and his lips slow against you as he looks up at you from almost between your legs. “Plea—“ but you can’t finish as you gasp out a breath when you feel his lips switch to your thighs. 

“What was that?” he smirks into your leg?

“Ple—“ you try again, only for him to bite into the soft skin of your thigh.

“I need to hear the full word, babygirl,” he says, pulling away from one thigh and moving to the other.

“Please!” You force out, not letting him cut you off with his actions again.

At that, his mouth leave your thighs as he sits up, leaning over you enough to kiss you passionately, and you wrap your hands into his hair. “Good girl,” he smirks against your lips before pulling back again, positioning his face between your thighs while he sits on his knees, leaning forward. Without a warning, he presses his tongue over the wet fabric covering your mound. Me moans against you, feeling how you’ve soaked through your thong, and he can taste you. “Merlin, baby,” he hums into you, sucking you through your panties before pulling back. “You’re so wet, Y/n,” he teases as his fingers gently wrap under the waist line and begin to pull down your thong. “Who did that to you, hm?” He encourages you, throwing your thong off the bed before laying on his stomach between your legs, roughly gripping your thighs in his hands and pushing them up against your chest, giving him a beautiful view of your soaking cunt. He blows hot air over your sensitive core as he waits for you to answer.

“You, Remus! You made me that wet,” you plead for him. He happily obliges and dives in, licking his tongue up and down through your folds without warning. “Oh, fuck,” you curse out in a whine.

His tongue stills and flicks over your swollen clit several times as he rubs the tips of his fingers against your entrance, getting them ready for you. He stops licking as he begins to push his fingers into you slowly, his lips wrapping around your clit instead and sucking the bud into his mouth. His fingers only pushed in slowly until they reached a halt. He gives you zero adjustment time and starts pounding them in and out of your pussy, creating an obscene sound as the curl and twist within you.

You moan out at the sudden sensation, music to his ears as one hand finds this hair, wrapping into it and pulling. He moans into you at the tension you create and hearing your angelic voice do such sinful things. With your legs still pressed to your chest, you can barely reach the one hand into his hair, so the other reaches under your head, grabbing and pulling at the pillow.

He continues fucking his fingers into you at the fast pace, continuing to suck and lick your clit the same. You quickly become a moaning mess, and you’re almost embarrassed by the pornographic sounds you’re making. Your head turn to the side, and you bite into your arm to suppress the sounds. This doesn’t go unnoticed, and Remus pulls away from your center, his face slick with your arousal. His hand leaves the warmth of your walls, smacking down over your cunt and causing you to involuntarily jerk forward.

“Don’t be quiet,” he demands. “Let me hear you, darling. Let me hear the sounds only I can get from you, yeah?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and your mouth releases your arm, but as though he doesn’t trust you to cover it again, he pulls your hand from the pillow, and interlaces his fingers with yours as he dives back in, eating you like he hasn’t eaten in months.

He returns to your cunt at the same pace, but only picks up the speed from there, his fingers digging not you deeper, rougher as he pushes you towards the rapidly approaching edge. He knows your dangerously close, and he pulls the high from you as he moans into you, sending vibrations through you that tip you over the edge. You moan loudly, legs convulsing at the intense peak rushing through your muscles. He pulls your legs down over his shoulders so you’re more comfortable as he continues to work your cunt, you thinking he’s riding out your high. Only he doesn’t stop. He removes his fingers from your hole, but continues sucking on your clit. The sensitivity from the orgasm that just ripped through you puts you right back on the edge. Your hips start to buck and both your hands lace into his hair, gripping tight. The intensity of only being on the verge of your next orgasm has you crying in pleasure, your hands pushing against him as you try to move his face off of you.

Your hands quickly give up as he holds himself onto you, and when he starts shaking his head back and forth with his tongue pressed against you, your pushed over that second edge, your back contracting as your muscles force you to sit up, using his hair as an anchor. He moans into you as you pull his hair, and he slows down, carefully lapping up your juices before kissing back up your body to your lips. 

He gives you a chaste kiss before he flips you over, pushing your face down into the bed. His hands hook over your hips, grabbing around them and pulling them up so your ass is in the air on perfect display for him. His hands leave your hips once they’re where he wants them, wrapping them around your wrists and pulling them back behind your back before wrapping one of his large hands over them both to keep them there. His other hand reaches between your legs, spreading them apart so he can comfortably stand on his knees behind you. After your legs were in position, he used the hand not restraining your wrists to grip his cock, rubbing it up against your core, getting it slick and ready for you, but still not entering you.

You moan at the feeling of his throbbing length pressing against you, so close, but not close enough. Your moan, having been a subconscious technique to get him to continue, is not a suitable attempt for him. His hand leaves his cock, still pressed against you as he holds his hips against your own, then smacks down on your ass, wordlessly commanding you to beg for him.

“Remus,” you whine, pushing yourself back against him, and his hand comes down on the opposite cheek. Not good enough. “Please!” Another smack. Still not good enough. “Remus, please!” You try combining the two previous pleas, but he spanks you again, and you know he wants to hear you say it. You know he won’t give you what you both crave until he hears you say it. “Please, Remus! Please, fuck me,” you cry out as his hand comes back down on you, only this time for fun, to make sure both of your cheeks are equally reddened. As you’re whining his name again, his hand leaves your ass and grips himself at the base, pushing into you to the hilt in a quick thrust, no warning.

“Good girl,” he groans from above you as you moan out at the feeling of him so perfectly stretching you. He stills only long enough to get out the two words and move your hair over your shoulder, letting him see the side of your face and the top of your back and shoulders. You don’t have much time to adjust before he pulls out, almost completely, and starts thrusting forward into you again at an agonizingly slow pace. His palm runs over your red cheeks, soothing and kneeling the skin under his hand while still holding your arms behind your back.

The perfect friction, the prefect way he fills you up and reaches every crevice within your walls has you softly moaning for him, but you need more. You start to push your hips back into him, meeting his thrusts in his rhythm but trying to get him to speed up all the same. “Rem,” you moan. “Faster. Please.”

His one hand releases your wrists, the other holding your hips against his as he wraps the first around your throat, pulling you up against him until your back is pressed to his chest. “You want me to pound you, huh, baby?” He breaths hot on your ear, his hips thrusting roughly up into you and hitting your g-spot dead center, causing you to cry out his name. “You’re so needy for my cock?” His teeth graze the shell of your ear as he thrusts again, another cry escaping your lips.

“Yes!” You call out to him. “Please, Remus. I need you.”

You say what he wants, but his reaction if the opposite for you. He pulls away from and out of you completely, pushing you back down onto the bed forcefully, and you bounce a little once you hit the bed. He turns you over again, having you face up as he kneels between your legs again, grabbing them from behind your knee and putting them over his shoulders as he realigns himself effortlessly and continues to pound into you.

The pornographic sounds you make further strive the hungry beast inside him, and he reaches down for you, draping his hand back over your throat and squeezing once more. He continues to hit the bullseye in you repeatedly, almost as if he’s trained his whole life just to please you to such an extent. His thrusts are so precise that you barely registered the build up to your rapidly approaching third orgasm.

“Rem,” you draw out his name, warning him, and he understands.

“Do it, baby,” he commands, and you let go of the force pressing violently against your gut.

You scream his name, your voice hoarse and throat sore as you whine and gasp while you come down, Remus working you through it the whole time.

“Good girl,” he praises you, dropping your legs from his shoulders as his hand leaves your neck and slides up.  He cradles your cheek as he leans over you, kissing you passionately as his thrusts slow down. “You’re so beautiful, darling. Just absolutely perfect.”

Remus’ previous aggressive lust, turns into a loving lust, just wanting to be one with you, be a whole instead of two halves. There’s just as much passion as before, it’s just more apparent now without his hunger for you clouding it.

“Remmy,” you whine, too sensitive after three orgasms. You’re still soaking, but you can feel every ridge of his cock as he slides in and out of you. Remus lifts his head from where it was folded into the crook of your neck, looking deep in your eyes. “I can’t. It’s too much.” A tear falls from your eye and runs down your cheek, but he’s quick to catch it, kissing the wet spot it left and then your lips so softly you barely feel it.

“Help me finish, baby. I’m close,” he encourages you to hold on just a few moments more. “You can do it, Princess. You’re being such a good girl for me.”

You nod your head as you look up into his darkened, but soft, eyes. The way his mouth hangs open and his eyebrows furrow together, you can tell he is close. You moan his name as you pull his lips into another love-filled kiss, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips and your arms over his shoulders, pulling him deeper into you. You break from the kiss panting. “Cum in me,” you plea so softly you can barely hear it.

Remus’ hearing is strong enough to pick it up, and his rhythm falters for half a moment. “Really?” He asks, how close he is painfully evident on his face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

His carnal need resurfaces, hitting into you harder, and you cry out every time. “You want me to cum in you, huh?” He growls into your ear, but he’s so close it breaks into a groan. “You want me to fill you with my cum, baby?”

You nod vigorously, not being able to form any words with the intense feeling burning in your core. He captures you lips in a kiss as he stills, buried deep inside your cunt and coating your inner walls with his hot ropes, his hips involuntarily jerking as he does. You’re sensitiveness, his words, and the feeling of him and his cum filling you to the brim push you over the fourth edge, and you crying out as your body convulses under him so much you would’ve folded in on yourself if his body weight wasn’t keeping you flat on the mattress.

He collapses on top of you as both your bodies give their last few tremors, both of you panting and sweaty, hair sticking to your faces. His arm extends towards the side table, looking for his wand. “Fuck,” he mutters, and you hum in question to his exclamation. “Our wands are still in the living room,” he kisses you softly, but with so much love. “You know, with our clothes.”

You giggle against his lips before he pushes himself off of you and goes into the ensuite to grab you a washcloth. Your affectionate urge to always be around him awakens and sends you to the bathroom, but when you stand from the bed, pain shoots down your sore legs and your knees give out. You’re left to gravity to fall to the floor with a small squeal and a soft thud.

The door to the bathroom quickly opens as he looks for the cause of the sudden noise, finding you on the floor in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?” He chuckles.

“Following you,” you blush and look down at the carpet. You’ve always tried to subside your natural clinginess in fear that it will annoy Remus.

You heel hands wrapping under your arms and you’re hoisted off the floor. “You’re my lost puppy, aren’t you?” He teases, making you giggle. A sound he could listen to on repeat for the rest of his life, a sound he’s never planning on losing. He puts you down so your weak legs hand off the edge of the bed. “Would you wait here just a moment please, love?” He says, adoration filling his voice. He steps back into the bathroom and comes back with two washcloths, a warm on and a cold on. He uses the cold one first, wiping the sweat and left over make up off your face. A moment later you take the rag from him so you can wipe his sweaty forehead, too, but you gasp and whine in surprise as the warm cloth rubs between your legs. “I’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes and kisses you sweetly. You run your hands over his head, flattening his hair down as you kiss him back, never wanting to stop, and he finished cleaning the mess he had made of the two of you. “I’m going to take these and the other clothes to the laundry real quick, love,” he tells you before kissing your head and leaving the room.

You build all of your strength to get up and go to the closet in search of clean underwear for you both, stopping dead in your tracks when a poorly hidden velvet box in his drawer peaks at you from between the socks. You pick is up carefully and open the box, a ring perfect for you sat in the fold. You cup your hand over your mouth to hide any noise you might make, but your heart is in your throat as it bursts with love, and you couldn’t make a sound if you tried.

“Shit,” Remus curses behind you, having come back into the room silently. He rushes over to you and moves to take the box from your hands, but his hands stop, resting over yours as he looks at you staring at the ring, mesmerized. “You weren’t supposed to see that, yet,” he says and laughs softly, nervous of your reaction because your face is so blank, he can’t get a clue. 

“Then… I’ll just pretend I didn’t,” you give him a small smile, but one that shows him your whole heart. You pull your hands back from his, leaving him to hold the box as you slip on your fresh panties and climb back into the bed. He looks to you, surprised you’re not questioning it, but your sat in the center of the bed with your arms held out to him and a goofy pout placed on your lips as your hands grab at the air.

He sighs happily, places the velvet box unhidden in his closet, and pulls on fresh boxers before climbing into your arms. Your fingers slide into his hair and scratch at his scalp as he lays his head on your belly.

After a moment of comfortable silence and his mind not settling, he lifts his head and looks up at you, seeing your eyes are closed. He calls your name softly. You hum, informing him you’re awake. Remus climbs further up the bed, laying on his side facing you to your left. His hand grazes your cheek as he pushes hair out of your face.

“I love you. I have never felt this much of one feeling before I met you. I’m so in love with you that it terrifies me, and I don’t know what to do. But you’ve changed me, you’ve made me a better man. I can’t imagine a future without you as my wife and with our kids running around. I never knew how to bring it up before,” he pauses a moment, trying to find the right words as he asks you the big question on a sudden limb. “I’ve just been to scared. I don’t know why, because you’ve never done anything but love and support me, and I couldn’t ask for better. I was with Sirius to find you the ring, and try to plan a romantic moment to ask you to marry me, I just didn’t want it to be so close to the full moon.”

You take a moment, considering everything he’s said and your chest swells with love and pride. “What about ‘James’?” You ask, being stuck on the one thing he said. When he pulls away from you completely and sits up, you open your eyes, startled. He’s looking at you with all the confusion in the world. “Oh my god!” You gasp. “That came out so wrong. I meant as a name! Merlin, the things you do to me — beyond amazing — exhaust me. I can’t speak correctly.” You let out a breathy laugh as you look for his reaction, a smile growing onto his face.

“You mean, like, a baby name?” He asks you.

You nod at him, smiling, and his shoulders relax as he lays next to you again.

“No, no,” he says after a moment. “I don’t want the product of my love for you to constantly remind me of my idiot best friend.”

“Okay, so ‘Sirius’ is also off the table,” you giggle.

“What about our parents names?” Remus asks as he turn to you, pulling you into him as his little spoon. 

“So the product reminds us of our parents?”

He laughs at your rebuttal, and you smile. “Good point.” He presses his lips to your temple. “I guess we have time to figure it out.” He sighs in contempt as he buries his face in the back of your neck.

“For now,” you agree.

“So that’s a yes?” He picks his head up quickly to ask. “You’ll marry me?”

You turn in his arms, facing him and grabbing both his cheeks in your hands, purposely squishing his face a little. “Of course, you big oaf,” you laugh and kiss the love of your life.