#getting some vitamin sea

[cameoutstruggling93]

😌❤️🌊

[rcmclachlan]

Thin Red Line (bucktommy, 6x11 missing scene)

Me: I'm rewatching "In Another Life" and had a thought. What if Buck met Tommy during his coma dream?

@dadvans: RC I’m going to kill you

+

Between leaving Christopher to wander the hospital hallways like a ghost in search of Eddie for all eternity and doing absolutely nothing to stop Bobby from popping pills like they’re Flintstones vitamins, Buck’s going to single-handedly bankroll every renovation project Dr. Copeland has over the next ten years. 

He wonders what she’ll say when he tells her about this during their next session. She’ll probably just sit back thoughtfully and muse, "You say you were trapped in a world where your biological family loved you but your chosen family had no idea who you were. Tell me more about that, Evan."

It's a moot point unless he manages to get out of here, so he swings the axe up, throws a sneer in his evil doppelgänger's direction, and is about to bring it down as hard as he can when his right arm is suddenly jerked behind him like someone’s trying to pull it out of the socket. 

Startled, he whirls around, but there’s no one there. Even Bizarro Buck is gone. 

An odd pressure tugs at his fingers. For a second, he thinks there’s something wrapped around them. He looks down but he can’t see anything. He can feel it, though. He tests the tensile strength of it by bouncing his hand back and forth, and whatever it is pulls taut when his hand gets close to his body. 

It reminds him of playing tug-o-war on the playground as a kid, except instead of deliberately allowing himself to be yanked off balance so his parents could later fuss over the bloody state of his knees, he begins gathering the palpable nothing in his palm and, with a last look at the tableau of the real him lying in the hospital bed waiting to die, follows it out of the room and back down the hall. 

He comes to a stop in front of a door that looks like all the others. He must’ve missed this one, although he can’t feel dumb about it, because there’s no way in hell he would’ve guessed this was the exit. 

"Take me home," Buck murmurs, opens the door, and walks out—

—onto an outdoor patio. 

He drops his head back with a groan. "Oh, come on."

With the wicker chairs and mind-numbingly navy umbrellas, it looks like every cafe’s outdoor seating situation in the state of California, right down to the almost oppressive number of ferns in beige planters shoved in between the tables. The only difference is that the place is completely empty. 

Correction: almost empty. 

Through the crush of the basic bitch jungle, he sees a solitary man seated at one of the tables, idly sliding a to-go cup from side to side with his big hands. As he draws a little closer, he’s able to clock the guy’s deep blue flight suit and what looks like the LAFD insignia on his arm.

Everyone who’s made an appearance in this weird-ass dream has been someone he knows. Even Daniel, who died before Buck ever met him, still made something stir with some kind of primordial recognition in Buck’s marrow the second he woke up and clapped eyes on him. He'd taken in the gray hair at high temples, the same nose Buck sees every time he looks in a mirror, the confident smile, and had just known who he was.

Buck has no idea who this guy is. He’s pretty sure he’d remember someone who looked like he bench presses actual benches in the morning and rushes off to be photographed for Men’s Health by lunch. 

As Buck comes up to the edge of the table, the man looks up at him, and the light of the sun catches his eyes. For a second, Buck’s back on the pier, gazing out into a cloudless sky stretched over the sea, but there’s no inhale of the earth, no oncoming wave. Just deep, Pacific blue. A slow smile spreads across the guy’s face, which takes him from unfairly handsome to utterly striking. 

"Hey."

A shiver starts from the very bottom tip of Buck’s spine and travels upwards like ripples on the surface of a lake, spreading out into all of his limbs until he can feel the eddies lapping at even the smallest arteries. For no cogent reason he can think of, his resting heart rate picks up until he’s flirting with full-on tachycardia. Maybe he’s about to code in the real world.

"H-Hey," Buck stutters, feeling caught out. "I—sorry, I’m—I’m a little turned around here."

The man gives him a look that’s both amused and commiserating, then picks up the drink cup he’d been playing table hockey with and holds it out. There's something thin and red tied around his ring finger, but Buck can't concentrate on it for some reason. It fades completely out of view every time he tries. "Want a sip? It’s the worst coffee you’ll ever taste."

It's said around what is clearly a laugh, but Buck doesn't feel like it's at his expense, plus it's so infectious that he can’t help but crack a grin. The muscles in his back, which feel like they've been locked for days, are finally starting to relax.

“If it’s so gross, why’d you get it?” Buck asks, genuinely curious.

The guy shrugs. "I didn't."

Nodding as if that makes any kind of sense, Buck looks around to see if the ferns are hiding anyone else, but it really does seem like there's no one else here. He turns back to the man, who's watching him with that deep, placid gaze. 

It's so strange. He'd been so desperate to find a way out of here, psyching himself up for a battle he was prepared to fight to the death in, but all he wants to do right now is grab the chair across from this stranger and just… let the clock run out.

He reaches for the back of the chair closest to him, but it jerks away with a screech. 

The guy unhooks his foot from the chair leg and, staring straight into Buck's eyes, shakes his head gently. 

Buck swallows around a suddenly dry throat. Under his feet, the patio stones tremble. "D-Do I know you?"

When the man smiles this time, the corners of his eyes crinkle, digging lines that run down his cheeks. Buck thinks of the picture Jee-Yun gave him last week of a beaming sun. She'd drawn deep yellow lines coming off it. Sun rays. 

"No," the man says, his voice as warm as a crayon drawing made with unconditional love. "Not yet."

He lifts his hand and this time Buck can see the little red string tied around his finger, and the long tail of the other end of it draped over the table top, which Buck follows the trail of, heart pounding, until it comes to a stop. He looks down to find the other end is tangled around the fingers of his own right hand. 

When he looks up, shaking and exhilarated, there's a door in the middle of the patio that swings open in obvious invitation. 

The man is no longer at the table, but there are suddenly lips at his ear. "See you soon, Evan."

Before he can close his eyes and sink into the hot wash of breath over his cheek, a large hand slides up to the middle of his back and shoves—

+

Buck knows he's being an absolute creep and Eddie won't stop giving him weird looks about it, but he can't help it. The pilot who's about to steal a helicopter for them has been nothing but friendly and confident, and he's currently wiring Buck up to his headset with brisk, competent hands, and all Buck can do is stare at him like he's got tonight's winning lottery numbers. 

Tom Kinard—"Tommy, please. Tom is my father, who I hate."—looks up from where he's bent a little at the knees, trying to get the microphone adapter to hook into Buck's belt, and shoots Buck an awkward grin. 

"Is there a spider in my hair or something?"

He hadn't realized how much tension he was putting into the air until Tommy cuts through it with that. Buck ducks his head and laughs, feeling like a dumbass. "Sorry, man. It's just—do I know you from somewhere? You look so familiar."

"Maybe I just have one of those faces," Tommy says, all good humor.

For Men's Health, maybe, Buck almost replies, then has to clench his teeth so it doesn't slip out by accident. What a weird thought to have. With his luck, Tommy would've taken it the wrong way and then abandoned the mission altogether. But even thinking it feels like a lie. Buck's known the guy for all of five minutes but he's oddly sure Tommy wouldn't leave them in the lurch because Buck feels the need to share every dumb thought that crosses his mind. 

"All right." Tommy stands up straight and steps back, but not before he gives Buck a friendly pat on the arm. "You're good to go."

Feeling oddly bereft, Buck says nothing as Tommy steps around him to where Chimney's been not so patiently waiting for his turn. 

"Sorry about him," Chim says, jerking a head in Buck's direction. "He was struck by lightning last year and hasn't been the same since. I mean, he was always annoying, but now he's just weird."

Buck deserves an Oscar for the fake outrage in his voice when he shoots back, "The view must be great from your glass house, Mr. I'm Dressing My Kid Up As A Ceiling Fan For Halloween," because the rest of him feels like it's in a tailspin. Every atom in his body is positively screaming for some reason. It's probably because they're all going to die. That makes the most sense.

When Tommy laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

Sun rays, Buck thinks nonsensically, and tangles the headset wire around the fingers of his right hand. 

+

Now on AO3!

[breelandwalker]

Simple Spell - Full Moon Wish Jar

Intent: To harness the power of the lunar cycle for the manifestation and fulfillment of wishes.

Materials:

Small Jar with tight-fitting lid

Chime candle & fire source

Oil for sealing

Herbs and Items representing your wish

Ideal Timing: Waxing or Full Moon

Find a clear space to work. Make sure it’s free of fire hazards. If possible, try to work near a window through which you can see the moon. (If you don’t have one, that’s all right too, since you’ll be setting the jar out for the moonlight when finished.) Light your candle, focus your intentions, and get to work.

Select herbs and trinkets which fit inside the jar to represent your wish. For example, if your wish is for money or prosperity, you might include coins or small craft gems. If your wish is for health, you might include vitamin pills or a charm representing medicine. Check your books for herbs or crystals that correspond to your wish as well. This is your wish - make the spell your own. The contents of the jar can be whatever you want.

Use the materials that resonate best with you, but remember that your focused intention is the most important component of all. If desired, you can write your wish on a dried leaf or a piece of paper to give the spell a clear direction to work in.

Some common plants associated with wish-making include:

Bamboo

Bay Leaf

Blue Violet

Dandelion Seeds

Dogwood Petals

Nutmeg

Peppermint

Sage Leaf (any color)

Sunflower Petals or Seeds

Once your jar is complete, drip three drops of wax from the candle into the jar and circle the mouth of the jar three times with the oil to seal the charm. Then cap the jar and seal it with wax. Leave your thumbprint in wax on top of the lid. Place the jar somewhere that it will be touched by the light of the full moon and leave it overnight.

The jar should work for about a month, or slightly longer if you’re working with a supermoon. When the next full moon rolls around, you can recharge the jar by leaving it out overnight again, or make a new jar with a new wish.

Recipe suggestions under the cut. (And if you like this spell, you'll love my books!)

Happy Witching! 🌕💜

Health, Wealth, & Happiness

Lavender

Rosemary

Rice

Bay Leaf

Juniper Berries

Apple Wood Chip or Apple Seeds

Seal with Breath

Protection

Rosemary

Basil

Sea Salt or Table Salt

Holly Leaf

Juniper Berries

Seal with Sage or Dragon's Blood Oil

Healing

Basil

Echinacea

Horehound

Lavender

Hyssop

Seal with Basil Oil

Luck & Success

Clover Blossom

Galangal Root

Rosemary

Sassafras

Allspice Berries

Seal with Amber Oil

Money-Draw

Rice

Allspice

Orange Peel

Juniper Berries

Rosemary

Seal with Orange Oil

Love

Rose Petals

Apple Wood Chip

Lavender

Basil

Cherry Blossoms or Cherry Stones

Seal with Rose Oil

Jinx Remover

Sea Salt or Table Salt

Coffee Grounds

Rosemary

Sage (any type)

Black Peppercorns

Seal with Vinegar

[shiyorin]

I was quite surprised when someone sent me a warhammer request on marshmallow, but here we go.

#Modern au. You are a designer who oftens works from home.

#Just a normal morning with primarchs

#Menu: Imperial Secundus

#I promise it only has romcom

Lion El’Jonson

Lion's eyes fluttered open. The alarm blared, jarring him from a dreamless sleep. He groggily fumbled along the nightstand, groping in vain until his palm struck the clock itself, knocking it to the floor. Finally, blessed silence.

He rolled over with a grunt, hugging the blanket tighter and started to drift back under. But a relentless pounding on his door shattered the tranquil haze.

"Lion!! Wake up!! You told me to wake you up early today!" came your insistent voice from the door.

Ugh, did he say that? Of course, he must have, you never would have disturbed his rest otherwise. Lion pulled the covers over his head, letting out a petulant growl. He'd finally gotten some leave time, intended to sleep it away after months of grueling deployments. But apparently obligation called once more.

There was an important PR ceremony today, some ribbons and handshakes to help soothe the civvie politicians. A necessary, but not how he wished to spend his brief repose. For a treacherous moment, the stubborn soldier considered ignoring your wake-up call.

But no. You would only escalate your reminders, and he cringed at the thought of what inventive method you might employ next time. Best to acquiesce... for now.

Lion threw off the sheets with a resigned sigh and swung his feet to the floor. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he padded into the bathroom, glaring at the haggard reflection in the mirror. His beard had grown considerably during his absence, an unruly rug framing the sharp angles of his jaw and cheeks.

He grabbed his trimmer and set to taming the wilderness, meticulously shaping it back into a crisp military cut. Freshly groomed, he tugs on the crisp dress uniform laid out the prior evening. Drab olive tones that do nothing for tired but befit the solemn occasion.

One last lingering look in the mirror confirms his stone-faced professionalism. No one would ever suspect the churning sea of doubts and regrets that dwell behind those cold eyes.

With a resigned sigh, he steps out into the living room. Immediately he's greeted by an unexpectedly enticing sight, you lounging on the sofa in minimal loungewear.

You were sprawled on one end of the sofa, some oversize tee and cotton shorts clinging to your languid form. A tablet danced in your delicate fingers, your face a mask of fierce concentration for whatever design you worked on. Lion couldn't help his treacherous eyes from tracing your curves, taking in expanse of naked legs on a sumptuous display.

On impulse, he crept closer behind your perch, locking onto that elegant neck arching so invitingly. He bent low, baring his teeth ever so slightly as a humid breath rolled across your flesh...

"What are you doing?!" 

You flinched bodily, whipping around with wide eyes. Lion recoiled slightly, caught like a schoolboy playing mischief. But your shocked expression melted into an exasperated look as he feigned innocence with lofty indifference.

"Nothing."

Lion cleared his throat.

"You know, you could go outside once in a while. A little sun might be beneficial."

You shot him an icy scowl over the edge of your screen before shrugging elaborately. "I get plenty of Vitamin D, thank you."

He snorted inwardly at the subtle double entendre. Of course you did. Drawing near with an exaggerated sigh, Lion jerked his chin down in clear expectation. You dutifully rose without comment and began smartly knotting his tie, making a few last tidy adjustments before stepping back to appraise your work.

Your bright eyes raked over his crisply-attired form, sparkling with unreadable thoughts before giving a slight nod of approval. "Very handsome. I'm sure they will like it."

"If only..." Lion muttered "I'll be counting the hours until I get cut loose from these."

His gaze subconsciously drifted to the framed awards and photos lining the shelves, stark reminders of his true calling, a life of struggle and valor amidst the echoing guns. And here, he felt like a caged beast, bored, aimless and shackled.

"Speaking of eating..." He turned back to you "What say we go out for a nice steak dinner tonight? I should be done with this whole circus by mid afternoon."

You cocked one shapely eyebrow, unmistakably intrigued. "A prime rib does sound tempting... and you're paying of course?"

"Better than tofu and kale, right?" Lion's eyes crinkled at the corners, indulging his rare playful side. "We could even get a nice bottle of Cabernet to go with it." 

You said with a smirk "Wait... Is this a date, sir?"

A delicate flush colored his cheeks for just a moment as he turned away dismissively. "Well, I'd say it's just dinner."

You chuckled "Alright sir, it's time to go.."

He shot you an incredulous look as you give him a wink.

"As if you're one to lecture anyone on getting out more..." He muttered under his breath once the door clicked shut.

But a smile played across his lips as he grabbed his keys and cover, already counting down the hours himself.

Sanguinius

Sanguinius slowly peels open his eyes as the first rays of dawn filter through the bedroom window.

Despite being a morning person in theory, his body protests at the early hour, muscles tight and eyelids heavy from a restless sleep. He drags himself out of the tangled sheets, padding wearily to the bathroom.

The hot shower does little to shake the lingering weariness. It clings to him like cobwebs as he towels off and slips into a plush silk robe, a small indulgence. He catches a glimpse of himself in the foggy mirror, pausing for a beat. His chiseled features and athletic physique betray no hint of the pain that gnaws at his insides lately.

Pushing those nagging thoughts aside for now, Sanguinius drifts out to the kitchen. He uncorks a deep Cabernet Sauvignon decanter to pour himself a generous glassful. Not exactly the most typical breakfast beverage, but he's long past caring about societal conventions.

When he turns to join you at the dinette table, he's greeted by the sight of his disheveled roommate cradle-hugging a steaming coffee mug. You're barely awake yourself, straggles of hair framing your bleary eyes. Despite your almost comical morning disarray, you're still the most gorgeous thing Sanguinius has ever seen.

Instinctively he opens his arms for an embrace, a silent good morning routine. You merely stare at him through slitted lids before downing the last of your coffee. Then, with neither word nor warning, you thrust the empty cup into his hands and turn to go.

Sanguinius is left bemused for only a heartbeat before chuckling softly. He rinses the mug out, refilling it with the last of the coffee and offering the fresh cup which you accept with a grateful nod. You vanish into the living room, curled up on the sofa mere moments later. Your bright LED monitor casts a blue glow across those striking, angular features, already immersed in rendering textures for another character model no doubt.

Padding over, Sanguinius gingerly retrieves his portfolio from beside the armchair. He sinks back into the plush cushions, leafing through page after page of Renaissance and Baroque masterpieces. Yet he can't seem to focus on the brushwork or chiaroscuro artistry today.

He finds his gaze drifting from the pages time and again, stealing glances at the beauty, studying the delicate shape of your lips, the color of your eyes, the effortless fluidity with which your graceful fingers fly across the keyboard.

"Don't stare at your phone and eat at the same time," He chides warmly as you start scrolling through work emails with one hand. "You'll choke."

"Fair point, from the man sipping wine at 7 AM."

You arches one shapely eyebrow but doesn't deign to reply further. Sanguinius drains his own goblet and rises to clean up. He takes his time, puttering about the loft tidying this and straightening that, all while keeping you in his sights through stolen glimpses.

Once finished with his little chores, he finds himself drifting over to your place without even thinking about it. You don't seem to notice or mind as he leans over the back of the sofa, studying your latest creation in-progress.

"Impressive," Sanguinius murmurs, genuinely awestruck by the master-level craftsmanship. "Truly remarkable."

You pause for a beat, gracing him with the faintest of smiles before turning back to the grindstone, lost in your creative zone once again. He remains looming over you for a long moment, close enough to catch the faint scent of your hair's jasmine essence and feel the soft warmth of your body heat.

Then, finally, Sanguinius straightens up with a heavy, wistful sigh. He pads across to collect his folio and jacket from the armchair.

"Well then, I should get going. I've got a gallery walk-through this afternoon for the new exhibition."

On impulse he leans down, throwing his arms around your shoulders to pull you into a tight embrace from behind. You stiffens for the briefest heartbeat before your body seems to melt and settle into him. He nuzzles his nose into your fragrant tresses for one fleeting, delicious breath.

"I'll see you this evening."

*****

Sanguinius sighs heavily, doing his best to focus on the massive abstract canvases arrayed before him. But despite the confrontational slashes of color and impassioned brush strokes, his mind keeps wandering.

Wandering to thoughts of your legs and hair as wild and as unkempt as the paintings themselves. To the smirking cupid's bow of full lips perpetually pursed in sardonic amusement at his romanticized notions.

A shiver runs down Sanguinius' spine as he recalls their very first encounter in vivid detail...

Perhaps today he might finally dare to put brush to canvas, crafting the masterpiece that's been swirling in his mind for months now. 

It may very well be the only art that truly matters in this life.

Roboute Guilliman

The pre-dawn stillness hung heavy over the apartment as Roboute Guilliman stirred awake. His body clock was precisely punctual, never requiring an alarm. But it had become a morning ritual nonetheless.

Rolling over, he lay motionless in the darkness, his soft breathing was the only sound. Exactly four minutes before the jarring beep of the alarm was due, Guilliman's hand shot out and silenced it. 

With a quiet sigh, the politician slipped from the bedsheets, feet touching down soundlessly on the carpet. As the sheets were tucked with crisp military corners, he pulled the curtain across the bedroom before retreating.

Down the hallway, he rapped his knuckles firmly on your bedroom door in passing. Just a simple courtesy to avoid catching you if you happened to be awake and roaming.

A low grumbling seeped out from behind the door. Apparently his roommate was still very much entombed in slumber at this hour.  

He shook his head with a sigh as he made for the apartment's main living area. You could easily sleep till noon if permitted. But you needed to get on a decent schedule, your deadline for that game company's new character model was rapidly approaching.

Guilliman shrugged into his robe and settled into his daily routine. First a pot of strong coffee set to brew while he goes out to the lobby for the morning paper. The brisk chill of the morning air roused his senses fully. 

As the newscasters on the television in the living room prattled about yesterday's legislative victories and this morning's planned protests, Guilliman flipped through the paper's headlines. A frown creased his brow as his eyes scanned snippets:

*...divisive new social policies expected to be blocked yet again as party ties remain locked in stalemate...*

*...public trust in elected officials is at all time low amidst deluge of corruption scandals...*

He shook his head with a weary sigh. The political realities of governance had proven far more vexing than any military campaign ever faced back in his service days. Compromise and incremental change seemed the agonizing order of the day, no matter how dire the situation.

The timer's shrill beep indicated the coffee was ready. Muscle memory took over as Guilliman retrieved the carafe, split the hot brew into two mugs, then poured in the respective milk and sugars to each's preferred taste.

Almost on cue, a sleep-tousled you shuffled into the dining room with a jaw-cracking yawn. Your silk robe hung open, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the matching negligee beneath. 

"Mmmmmorning..." you mumbled groggily, bare feet padding across the linoleum.

Guilliman turned at the exact moment you wrapped your lithe arms around his midsection from behind with a contented sigh. Your cheek nuzzled against the flat planes of his back as he stiffened self-consciously.

"What's for breakfast, hmm?" Your voice was blissfully sleepy, still thick with half-dreams and warmth.

Clearing his throat, Guilliman gestured to the set table with a prim nod. "Belgian waffles and seasonal fresh fruit compote, as requested. With the coffee you prefer."

Your answering hum of delight vibrated through his robe pleasantly. "Love you."

Guilliman felt his face grow warm as you giggled, returning to slather the unappetizing bread-slab with sugary condiments. Best to ignore such needling - especially when you have a point. He couldn't help but spoil you.

… Besides, how many other politicians were roomies with a character model designer? He couldn't be too harsh.

Before he could react further, you released your lingering embrace and flopped bonelessly into your seat. Guilliman blinked, momentarily flushed, before joining you at their customary places across the small table.

They ate in a relaxed quiet broken only by the newscasters' prattling drone. Guilliman couldn't help noticing the elegant,delicate way your lips pursed around each forkful...

A loud slam from their neighbor's door shattered the reverie, making them both jump slightly. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a shake of his head. "Honestly, can people not control themselves for five minutes..."

You reached over to give his clenched fist a reassuring squeeze. "Any luck with the proposed housing reforms? I saw it was on the docket again this week..."

Swallowing hard, he mustered a tight smile. "Well, progress remains...incremental." His eyes flicked to the  mobs of irate citizens wielding placards and crude banners on television screens. "The special interests dig their heels in deeper every time."

"Just give it time." Your tone was soothing even through your usual wry inflection. You sipped your coffee thoughtfully, ruby lips leaving a perfect imprint on the porcelain mug. "They're going to feel awfully silly someday for not listening to you."

"I certainly hope--"

Guilliman glanced down at the time on his portable cogitator, eyes widening. "Blast! I'd best get moving if I'm on time for the morning session."

He rose swiftly, tucking in his chair and gathering the dishes in one practiced movement as you watched with bemused detachment. Within moments he was already depositing the load in the sonic dishwasher, suit cuffs neatly buttoned. 

At the door, he hesitated with one hand on the knob. Glancing back, Guilliman called over his shoulder, "I may be late this evening. There are deliberations scheduled on--"

"I know, I know." You waved him off with a little smile, one foot tucked under your thigh as you sipped your coffee. "More stuffy old men yelling and accomplishing nothing, as usual."

Lips pursing tightly, Guilliman simply grunted before slipping out into the corridor. Your teasing was affectionate but still stung just a bit.

Carefully straightening the crisp lapels of his suit, Guilliman cleared his throat. "Do try and not bury yourself in laptop too deeply today, yes? Your health is as important as any project deadline."

You waved an airy hand, taking an uncouth slurp of your coffee. "Yeah yeah, mom, I know the drill. Now get going before you're late for all your super important senatorial meetings."

Pausing at the door for one final longing look at that adorably disheveled figure, Guilliman repressed a smile. He truly was a lucky man, even if his roommate could be his pain at times.

As the oaken portal swung closed and his strides carried him off to another long, grueling day of civic responsibilities, the statesman couldn't help but look forward to returning home this evening.

[barbstail]

The Sunflower Jewel (A Michael x Mc fanfic) Part 2

(Mc spends their first day getting adjusted in the celestial realm.)

First part

Day 1

Mc’s skin was finally met with the warm summer air of Devildom as they stepped out of the house of lamination, luggage in hand. Their gaze turned over their shoulder to look at the small crowd behind them waving. The brothers all gave their goodbyes.

“Make sure you wear the sunscreen I got you! That sun can be so bad for your skin.” Asmodeus called out.

“Be careful with those angels, ya just never know what they’re thinking!” Mammon warned.

“Make sure you eat plenty of celestial food!” Beelzebub suggested.

After a round of the brothers shouting warnings, suggestions, and advice as their goodbye, MC brought their gaze back to the beautiful carriage that was being dragged along by two pegasus. It was truly a wonderful sight to see such gorgeous creatures. Mc would enjoy it more if the situation at hand wasn’t so bittersweet.

Before the coachman could come down and open the carriage door for the human guest, the door already swung open and Michael stepped out with an odd air of grace he always seemed to have around him. He offered out a hand to Mc to which Mc looked down at his hand in confusion.

“Have you ridden a carriage like this before?” The archangel asked, his hand still outstretched. The human looked at the carriage more closely, it was rather unique looking compared to Devildom or human world carriages. It’s a unique shape. “I can’t say I rode one like this before,” Mc admitted. “It’s easy to slip if you’re not used to getting on, allow me.” And with that, Michael took Mc’s hand. He carefully guided them up and into the carriage, putting a hand on their back to ensure they didn’t just drop out.

“Oi, watch it will ya! Don’t ya get all handsy with Mc!” The pale-haired demon growled in protest. Michael looked over to Mammon and was tempted to roll his eyes in response. He turned to face the small crowd of his former brothers. “You know, if you’re all so worried you could come visit us. I would sure love to see you all in the celestial realm.” The silver-haired angel pointed out. Though he could clearly see some of the disproval in some of his ex-brother’s eyes.

Mc’s eyes could not help but explore the luxurious inside. It’s been a while since the exchange student had seen such brighter and softer colors. Taking a seat, they heard a big thump of what presumably was their luggage being stored in the carriage’s storage.

Soon, Michael’s face showed up again as he climbed up inside. The coachman helped him close the door as the heavenly prince took his seat in front of his guest. “We’re finally having a proper face-to-face meeting, I have to say you pique my curiosity. Just how did you capture so many hearts in Devildom?” He asked, offering a smile. “It’s a long story,” Mc answered before suddenly feeling a jolt of force before being secured by a hand.

Looking up, they saw Michael putting a hand on their shoulder. “Take-off can be rough if you’re not used to it.” He reassured. Mc had an embarrassed expression for nearly falling on Michael. Sitting up straight in their seat again they muttered a small ‘thank you’ as they felt the carriage slowly go into the air.

MC’s eyes stared out into the window. It felt similar to flying on an airplane, except there was the complete lack of sea belt. They could only help they weren’t about to get nauseous from the ride.

Michael, as if sensing his guest’s distress, offered a sympathetic expression. “Do you not like flights?” He asked. Mc shook their head. “I see…next time we can use a portal then.” The angel reassured.

Soon, light began to shine from the window. It took the human a second to realize that it was sunlight. They leaned over, trying to take in more of the incoming view.

“Beautiful isn’t it? I couldn’t imagine living in darkness for so long. Just how did you do it?” Michael asked, looking out the same window that his guest was. “Vitamins and warm clothes,” Mc replied to which Michael frowned. “You didn’t just pack warm clothes now, did you? Devildom clothing isn’t suited for life in the celestial realm” Mc looked like a deer in the headlights at the question to which Michael chuckled “If not your words then your expressions talk for you.”. Mc gave a disapproving look.

The carriage suddenly began to shake as it suddenly landed on the ground. The ride slowed down as the sound of the distant pitter-patter of hooves could be heard outside. At least Mc’s plane sickness was giving some release.

Michael’s blue eyes stared out to the grassy and flowery fields of the celestial realm. He glanced over at the human in front of him. “Have you seen views like this in the human realm?” He inquired, giving off a curious expression. The exchange student shifted in their seat and looked outside the window for the second time. “Yes, I have.” They answered him.

“I’ve heard that the human realm has many different views that even we angels don’t get to see here.”

“Really?”

“Yes, such as winter. Our winters are too mild-mannered for us to get the same views that humans get in their realm. Tell me, do you enjoy winter there?”

“It’s pretty but too cold for me.”

The conversation continued until the carriage finally halted in place. The coachman opened the carriage door, revealing the elegant view of the blue crystal palace. Mc had seen the palace before but even so, the feeling of looking up at something so otherworldly made them wide-eyed.

They didn’t even notice the hand that was being offered by the coachman. Suddenly snapping out of their trance, they took the hand and slowly began to get down before nearly slipping from their foot missing the step. Fortunately, Michael had grabbed the back of their shirt fast enough before they could hit their head on the ground.

“This carriage really isn’t designed for humans,” Michael muttered, shaking his head. Mc raised a brow “What’s that supposed to mean?”. Michael allowed them to get off properly before following right after with far more ease. “Human legs are just…shorter.” He answered to which Mc nearly rolled their eyes. “Humans aren’t that much shorter.” They argued.

With luggage in hand, Mc and Michael made their way into the palace. Once inside, Mc couldn’t help but take a look at their surroundings. The inside of the palace was warmly decorated with tasteful cozy colors and rich gold to complement the surroundings. Colorful fresh flowers, paintings, and curtains served as excellent decorations on the walls of the place.

Michael had led the two of them over to a large mirror. Mc, looking confused, gave the angel an odd look. “The stairs take forever, so we added these mirrors,” Michael explained before demonstrating what he meant by stepping through the mirror. Mc gave one glance to the reflective surface before suddenly putting their foot into the mirror to test it out. Mc’s foot went through the mirror and hit something. Figuring it was safe enough, they hopped inside with their luggage being dragged along.

Once they were on the other side of the mirror, they were met with a very unhappy Michael who was glaring at them. “Please do tell me why you thought it was a good idea to kick me, Mc?” He said in a stern tone to which Mc could only give an apologetic expression “Sorry…”. Michael sighed “Don’t make me regret teaching you about our mirror portals.”.

The two continued on their journey down the decorated hallway. Occasionally, the archangel would stop and explain the history of a few of their paintings that hung on the walls. It wasn’t too long until the two of them stopped at a rather fancy-looking door that had a note taped onto it.

Michael picked up the note and read it quietly before sighing. “And here I thought I was going to introduce you to the others.”. Mc glanced over at the note, trying to catch some of the details. “Others?” They muttered to which he nodded. “Yes, my brothers. Apparently they’re all going to be far too busy with their duties in other places… I guess that means you’re stuck with just me for a while,” Michael explained before he began walking again.

Mc let out a huff as their arms got tired from hauling their luggage around. They continued to follow after the silver-haired man until reaching yet another mirror that looked very similar to the mirror from before. Michael gave Mc a wary look. Don’t even think about it.” He warned before going through. Although Mc would be lying if they said they weren’t tempted to repeat the same incident from before, they decided out of the kindness of their heart not to and just walked inside.

Finally, after who knows how long, they seemed to be down the hallway that had the guest rooms. Michael led Mc over to a certain door, opening it to reveal a room that was similarly decorated as the rest of the palace. It had a canopy bed that was pink with a pile of fluffy pillows and a nightstand that sat beside the bed with a flower vase that lacked flowers. There was a white rug and white curtain to compliment. Overall, a very pleasant room to be staying in.

Mc didn’t miss a beat as they went ahead and threw themselves onto the large canopy bed. “I take it that you like the room?” Michael chuckled to which the human only gave a small nod in response, clearly tired from the trip. “I’ll let you rest then. The servants will tell you when it’s time for dinner.” He said before finally closing the bedroom door and letting his guest sleep.

Mc slept and slept before suddenly jolting awake at the sound of knocking. “Dinner…” a meek feminine voice spoke through the door followed by the sounds of footsteps hastily walking away. Mc let out a groan, not being so happy from waking up from their slumber. They wiped the drool from their face before shuffling themselves off the bed.

They caught a glimpse of themselves in the mirror on top of their drawer. Looking over, they were met with a disheveled and sleepy-looking version of themself. A look of dismay was written on their face. They couldn’t possibly go to dinner looking like this.

Hastily, they made their way to the bathroom. They washed their face, tidied up their outfit, and went to brush their hair only to realize their hairbrush was still packed in their suitcase.

Mc groaned but forced themself regardless to go and open their suitcase. Their mood was lifted when they noticed a little Ruri-chan stuffed beside their clothes along with some of the items that Mc didn’t remember packing in there. Seems like the brothers left Mc little presents to remember them by when Mc had their back turned. How sweet of them.

No wonder their luggage was heavier than expected….

Mc, now fixed up, left their guest room and headed down the hallway. They jumped through one of the portal mirrors from before and went to jump through the second one but stopped when they heard the faint sound of jingling. Looking over, they saw another mirror down a dark hallway.

The mirror had a strange colorful shine to it that made swirls in the glass of the mirror. There was just something so…tempting about it. Some gut feeling telling Mc to go inside.

Mc let out a scream as they suddenly felt a hand grabbing them. Jolting their head over their eyes were met with blue ones. They both looked at each other startled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The archangel admitted before his eyes met over to the mirror in the distance.

“Don’t use that mirror, it’s broken,” Michael explained as he looked back at Mc. Mc being as curious as ever couldn’t help themself and asked “What happens if you use it?”. Michael was silent for a moment, seemingly debating whether or not he should even tell the human. “It’ll just teleport you to a random location.” He admitted, though something felt off to Mc when the angel said that. But Mc was given much time to ponder to themselves as they were quickly being guided away from the broken mirror and over to working one.

“The food is going to get cold.” Was what Michael said as he shuffled his little lost lamb away from potential trouble. Knowing the reputation of this human exchange student, he knew he was going to have to deal with that mirror later. That was for another time though, as it was time for them to eat.

The two soon arrived at a large room where multiple white-clothed tables were set up. The two weren’t alone, there was a small gathering of angels there that were seated and eating. None of them which Mc recognized.

“I thought your brothers were away?” Mc spoke out loud to which Michael shook his head. “These are my guests. Though, I suppose you could consider them my siblings through The Father.” He stated as he walked ahead of Mc into the dining hall. A few of the angels were quick to stop what they were doing and greet the archangel. Michael gave a greeting of his own but before Mc could even try to follow the silver-haired angel they were being met with their greetings.

“Heya there! You come here often?”

“Salutations, you must be new here.”

“I’m lovin’ the hair!”

Mc stuttered their words as they were quickly overwhelmed by three strangers who suddenly just approached them. They glanced around for Michael for help but saw him nowhere. It was as if the angel somehow managed to disappear into thin air. “E-excuse me!” Mc managed out, quickly scrambling away from the group of friendly and curious angels that had managed to form around them.

They let out a sigh of relief when they made their way over to a more excluded part of the dining hall. That is where they spotted the table that was hosting the food. Mc’s stomach grumbled at the sight and so they made their way over to the table, hoping and praying that they weren’t going to get any more surprised greetings.

Fortunately, the universe had heard Mc’s pleas as they were able to begin making a plate of food without their social anxiety spiking.

While making their plate, they spotted it. A single slice supreme sparkle cake. Mc could feel their mouth water at the sight of it. They hadn’t had this cake in so long as it was the perfect thing for the stressful day they had.

They reached for the piece but were stopped when met with another hand. Looking up, Mc met eyes with their new competitor…it was Michael. As they stared at each other, they both made an expression that only two fellow sweet enjoyers could understand. They will fight to the death for this cake…

“Rock…paper…scissors…” Mc hissed out to which Michael only smiled. “Do you really think you can defeat me?” He asked. Though he was smiling, his eyes were telling a completely different story. Mc just gave him a determined as they outstretched their hands, ready for battle.

“Fine…I’ll play your human games.”

Rock.

Rock.

Rock again.

Damn, why won’t the two pick something else other than rock?

Finally, Mc chose scissors just as Michael chose paper. But just because Mc won the battle doesn’t mean they won the war and the harsh battle continued between human and angel. So they kept going.

Hand gestures upon hand gestures. It kept going until finally! There was a victor.

Mc threw their fists up in joy. The victory was theirs. They had managed to beat the archangel Michael in special hand-to-hand combat others known as Rock Papers Scissors.

Michael looked at Mc before a faint smile grew on his lips. He gave a faint bow of his head in a respectful manner. “You have bested me, the cake is yours.” He said before taking his plate and walking away, leaving the slice to Mc.

Mc gladly took the slice onto their plate with absolute glee only to see what was presumably one of the cooks. The cook held a brand new cake and sat it down where the premium sparkle cake used to be. Taking the dirty tray, they looked over at Mc.

“I see you and Arch Michael are getting along.” The friendly cook spoke, flashing a smile to which Mc could only feel slightly embarrassed. “I didn’t think anyone was watching us,” Mc admitted, giving a sheepish grin. The cook laughed in response before gesturing outside. “Please do tell him we brought more cake.” The stranger said before making their leave.

Mc glanced over to the outside patio that the cook had pointed to. They glanced over at the small crowd of people and not wanting a repeat of that awkward account from before, decided to bring Michael a slice of cake. Hopefully, this could convince the angel not to leave them alone with random strangers.

Walking outside, Mc could see Michael sitting alone at a table. He seemed at ease as he sat alone with his meal. As if sensing a presence, Michael looked up from his dinner and over at his new company. He quickly noticed the extra slice in Mc’s grasp and began eyeing the piece with little to no shame.

“They brought out more cake.” The human stated as they walked over. They sat the plate down by the seraphim angel which brought a small smile to his face. He was quick to use his fork to take a bite out of the desert and let out a small hum of delight. “So that challenge was done for nothing, hm?” Michael purred out, his mood quickly perking up from just one bite of sweets.

“What are doing alone?” Mc asked as they sat at the table. Michael pondered that question in his head as he helped himself to yet another bite of cake. “I find people…overwhelming at times.” He stated honestly as he sat his fork down. “You must relate, how odd,” Michael added.

“Why is it odd?” Mc asked.

“You have a crowd of people in Devildom who care for you, I figured it would take a very social person to be able to pull so many people in,” Michael answered.

“Do you have people who care for you?”

“Hm, of course! You don’t think I could run an entire realm all by myself, now do you?”

“Can you tell me about them?”

Oh boy, did Michael tell them. The archangel was all too happy to indulge Mc in his habit of rambling about things he cares about. He talked about his brothers, He talked about Luke, and he even talked about Simeon. It was interesting for Mc to learn about little details about some of their friends that they otherwise wouldn’t have learned about if it wasn’t for Michael.

“But enough about me, you must want to tell me about your loved ones. Tell me, how are my former brothers doing?” Michael finally asked, interrupting Mc eating their meal. Mc swallowed the piece of food in their mouth before beginning to speak. “They were doing well before that snowstorm hit us. I was even planning to go the an anime convention with Levi.” They admitted.

“Anime huh and here I remember when Leviathan used to be our fierce navy general.” The silver-haired angel chuckled to himself, seemingly relieving some of the memories in his head. “People really do change…tell me, does Lucifer still have the habit of dragging his wings when wet?” Michael asked, looking over at Mc who had just finished their meal. Mc looked up at Michael and nodded.

“Was Mammon always a troublemaker?” Mc asked as they began eating the rest of their desert. Michael couldn't help but smile at that. “Mammon…where to even begin. That angel was a troublemaker before he even learned to walk properly. Always getting into things, bolting off, and being loud. Me and the others simply had no idea what do to with little Mammon. Fortunately, Lucifer was willing to take him under his wing.” The seraphim explained before glancing over at the sky.

The sky was fading from its beautiful blue to a pale orange. Michael let out a small yawn at the sight, clearly tired from the long day. “It’s getting late.” He said, looking back over to Mc. Mc was looking at the sun curiously. “The sun can set here?” They asked the angel to which he answered. “Yes, the sun does change position here but it never actually turns into night like it does in your realm. A little unfortunate if you ask me, I would’ve loved to see the sky be filled with stars.”.

Michael stood from the table and picked up his empty dishes and silverware. He peered over at his guest. “It’s getting late, little lamb. Let’s continue our conversation tomorrow.” He stated before beginning to walk away. “Good night, Mc.” That was what he said before leaving.

Mc stood up and gathered their own silverware and dishes. They followed after the archangel only to not see him anywhere. Mc could only hope that Michael disappearing into thin air wasn’t going to end up like a bad habit of his.

Giving the dishes to the servants, Mc headed to bed so they would be well rested for what the next day would have in store for them.

Next part

[mystwrites]

Hi, congratulations on reaching 200 followers! You're a very talented writer and artist and worked hard to achieve this milestone!

If you would like for your follower event, could you do 🍉 and 🌊, with lee!Geto and ler!Gojo? I guess I'm basing the scenario where Geto and Gojo took Riko to Okinawa island to relax.

Again, congrats on this milestone and may many more come your way!

My 200 Followers Event is still open!

The beach was really great. Geto was downright enjoying himself. Of course, this was a mission he was supposed to be on with Gojo but Gojo’s idea of a beach day was incredible. The smell of the salty sea, the calming sounds of the waves hitting the sand, the warm sun on his body. It was all so relaxing.

While he did say he was opposed to the idea, he now has no arguments. Sunbathing was really nice and relaxing. A perfect change in scenery as well as atmosphere. Before, things were tense and now the mood was lifted, everyone smiling, laughing and genuinely happy.

“God…I love this…” he mumbled, Gojo next to him lying on his back, enjoying this fresh dose of vitamin c.

“I told you this would be fun!” Gojo sang, pointing to Riko and Kuroi going for a swim. “They’re having a lot of fun and I can tell you’re having a good time tanning.”

“Mmm. I did wanna get a tan at some point in my life.” Geto replied, comfortable as ever on his stomach. “Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“Is my back burning?”

“Uhhh…ooh! Yes, I see some redness.”

Geto groaned and sat up. “Shit. Really?”

“Yes! Right here! It’s red.” Gojo added, pressing down on Geto’s shoulder. He hissed as Gojo’s finger pressed into his skin. It did hurt slightly.

“Damn…that was quick.”

“Well, we were here for like…an hour and thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, but while I do wanna tan, I don’t wanna become a cooked lobster.“ Geto joked, tossing a bottle of sunscreen to Gojo. “Help me out and put sunscreen on my back will you?”

“Roger!” Gojo saluted, suddenly squirting a whole glob onto Geto’s back.

“OIY!! Take it easy with the sunscreen!” Geto gasped.

The sudden temperature change from hot to freezing cold startled Geto so much his foot kicked Gojo’s back. Apologizing, Gojo went to work, probably applying too much sunscreen but more is better than too little. Geto was grateful that his best friend would do this for him.

Geto’s eyes closed since it felt as if Gojo was massaging him but before he could completely relax, he felt two single fingers start to drag up and down his sides and swirl in a circular motion. Tensing up, Geto let out a loud inhale and whined, fully aware that Gojo was absolutely grinning behind him.

“Satoru!” he hissed. “That tickles!!”

“Dude, I’m not even trying to tickle you! I’m just doodling on your back with the sunscreen.” Gojo snickered, a mischievous grin appearing on his face much to Geto’s horror. “I drew a cat on your back hehehe! Let’s draw some more.~”

“Don’t even think about it you ass.” Geto barked.

“What? You don’t want a nice tattoo?”

“Hell no! Especially not if the “tattoo” is super painful tomorrow, then starts to itch and peel in a few days.”

“Oh well…it’s your loss. It was a very cute drawing.”

Geto laughed at the sad sigh Gojo let out and shook his head. Sometimes his friend could be too much. He still enjoyed being around Gojo nonetheless.

All was calm after Gojo finished applying the sunscreen to his back. The sounds of Riko screaming and laughing with Kuroi as a wave knocked them over was music to Geto’s ears as he continued to happily sunbathe. That was until he felt Gojo’s finger run up the back of his leg from the sole of his foot to the back of his knee. Jerking, Geto whipped around so fast he could’ve gotten whiplash and threw sand at Gojo’s face.

“GAAAH!” Gojo shook his head and giggled, smiling playfully at Geto.

“I swear to god, Satoru!” he growled, glaring at the white haired teen. “If you don’t stop…”

“What? If I don’t stop then what?~” Gojo teased, brushing the sand off of his cheek before suddenly tickling Geto’s spine.

“I will not hesitate to unleash the kissy cu-AAAGHHH!!” Geto couldn’t find it in him to spit out an angry remark as Gojo started to gently scribble at his hips. “Dahahammit Satoru!!”

“Hehee. Oh this is good!” Gojo snickered, sitting on Geto’s lower back. “Let’s have a little fun then, Suguru!~”

Geto shook his head, slapping the beach towel he resided on as Gojo’s hands connected with his armpits. While he wouldn’t normally be against a sudden Gojo tickle attack, they were at the beach, not in their dorm rooms where they had privacy. Anyone could look at them and think they were crazy. And worst of all, Riko and Kuroi might possibly join in the fun.

“Thihis is chihildish!! Quit th-this nonsehense!! Sato-RUUUHUHUHU!! IHIHI’M SEHERIOUS!!” Geto wheezed, reaching back to push Gojo away once his hands settled on his hips.

All that came in response was Gojo humming, happy to just tickle his friend to pieces. Giggling, Gojo suddenly lay on top of Geto, going for his ribs, hips and armpits all at once. Laughing, Geto flailed about, kicking up sand before he submitted to the sensations plaguing his body.

“Is this still childish?” Gojo snickered, rolling Geto onto his back. “Tickling my best friend and making him laugh is childish??”

“Y-YEHEHES YOU GOON!” Geto cried, wheezing as Gojo dusted the sand off of his stomach. “KNOHOHOCK IT OFF!!”

“Make me stop, Suguru!~” Gojo taunted, smug as ever. “Why don’t you make a curse stop me?~”

Gojo let out a yelp as Geto kicked him in the back. Seeing his opportunity, Geto bucked his hips as hard as he could, successfully dislodging Gojo from his waist. Without hesitation, he ran into the water to join Riko and Kuroi, Gojo hot on his heels.

“Amanai! Kuroi!!” he wheezed, shivering as his feet, thighs and then hips were submerged in the water. “Please help me!!”

“What’s wrong? Is Gojo being a turd?” Riko asked, clearly not surprised Gojo would be starting some chaos.

“Yeah! He’s engaging in childish activities!!” Geto cried, hiding behind Kuroi.

“What kind of “childish activities” are we talking about?” Kuroi asked.

“W-we don’t talk about that…” Geto stammered, pointing at Gojo and trying hard to ignore the burning of his cheeks. “You back the fuck up!”

“C’mere Suguru!~ I’m not done with you yet! Don’t hide behind Amanai and Kuroi you wimp!~”

Thinking on the fly, Riko let out a battle cry and kicked water into Gojo’s face. Geto saw this as his moment to put the sudden tickle attack to an end and grabbed his friend by the waist. Gojo shrieked, feeling his feet levitate out of the water and into the air. Snickering, Kuroi and Riko watched, wondering what Geto would do.

“There!” Geto said, suddenly tossing Gojo over his shoulder and into the water. “Problem solved.”

Sputtering, Gojo resurfaced, scoffing as he searched for his sunglasses that fell off in all the chaos. Riko and Kuroi both snickered as Geto loomed over him, his arms crossed.

“You done with these childish antics, Satoru?” he asked, Gojo laughing and putting his glasses back on.

“Pffft! Nah but I won’t do anything for now.” Gojo sang, poking Geto’s tummy.

“For now?!?” Geto squawked, splashing Gojo once again. “Don’t you dare tickle me again!”

“Aaah.” Riko snickered, nodding her head at Kuroi. “That’s what “childish activities” meant.”

A/N: Thank you for the request!🩷I loved writing for Gojo and Geto so much! It’s refreshing to start writing for other fandoms.

[balladofthewhitehorse]

I think England probably grew accustomed to having a lat of salted food while on long journeys or while at sea - so it probably brings back a lot of memories associated with that, so he probably avoids saltier foods, although he doesn't hate it. It's just an odd memory association for him these days, and England hates the feelings associated with it, such as sea-sickness (from the boats) or anxiety (from sieges and such-like). He does like tangier foods, like oranges; Mostly because of their association the fact that they're beneficial for a lot of things like *Scurvy* to *Colds*, England enjoys tangier foods and likes to put some orange whenever he does bother having a roast chicken; He also always has a bottle of orange juice in his fridge when he starts getting a cold, and is the first to be like 'Vitamin C?' whenever someone mentions they have a cold; It's slightly more positive for England, even if it's similar memory sort of association as *salt,* he just likes orange flavoured things.

I think ultimately he has a sweet tooth.

Sugar was a rare treat and England rarely treated himself; It wasn't until really Tudor times that he had a lot of sugar, and since then he'd always take a little treat whenever he was out in a war. Usually it had a tendency to be forgotten by England, who would always insist on 'saving it for a rainy day' until he did not eat it at all. Nowadays, he's more relaxed and has a tendency to snack on sweet things like biscuits or chocolate, with an additional baking hobby on-top of it. England also really fucking liked candyfloss when it first came about - damn near rotted his teeth, although in a double-edged sword, England is a rather self-concious man about his teeth. He never smiles showing his teeth and he sometimes goes in long-stretches of trying to purge all sugar from his life, but ultimately he ends up miserable for it.

He hates sour things. Food of the devil. Why is it so stingy? Fuck the Navy for stocking up on lemons.

[macsimagines]

Yandere!Kisaki Tetta Headcanons

Ok so I feel like I'm dying of thirst for good Yandere!Kisaki content when there is a literal sea and plethora of other Yandere Tokyo Rev stuff! I mean, c'mon guys we obviously love the Yandere stuff and we have an actual YANDERE in the series.

This is final timeline Kisaki because I think he's fully accepted he doesn't have Hina.

PT 2: https://www.tumblr.com/macsimagines/722700210896355328/the-kisaki-yandere-post-was-so-good-i-need-to?source=share

WARNING: Themes of Manipulation, Dubcon, possible murder drug use, and Babytrapping

The start

First and foremost, he adores you. Literally worships the ground you walk on. Thanks to Takemitchy's influence you're his whole world.

Takemitchy set you two up, kinda. He made sure to keep Kisaki on a positive path and to surround the younger boy with supportive people and you just happened to be one of them.

It was pretty apparent with how genuine and kind you were that young Kisaki was pretty much almost smitten with you so Takemitchy, not thinking this could have any consequences, fostered those feelings and helped Kisaki along.

It wasn't his fault, really. He figured if he could get Kisaki to fall in love with someone else and have that person return those feelings then he could ensure that everyone could be happy!

Best of all you return those feelings. You put his mind at ease because you confess first, and Kisaki is floored that he doesn't have to plan to get you. You're just giving yourself to him. no one is happier about this than Takemitchy

What Takemitchy forgot was just how obsessed Kisaki could get. And Obsessed doesn't even begin to cover it.

Happy Life

Kisaki covets every piece of information, latches on to the tiniest details and makes sure to use them when he has to.

You mention something offhand once about pretty flowers are, and now Kisaki makes sure (Months later) that you two have tickets to go see an exclusive flower garden.

Remember telling Kisaki about an exotic type of food you got have as a kid and loooooved? Well now you two are at date in a fancy restaurant being served that same meal with the highest quality ingredients.

Hey, you know that one terrible teacher you mentioned that would always single you out in class? Well guess who just got arrested?

Its easy to play off at first. He's just a super great boyfriend.

Kisaki loves you with all his heart. He makes time for you, always treats you well and keeps you out of any trouble.

When things start to take a dive into bad territory is when highschool is about to end. Kisaki starts to talk about marriage...

Red Flags

You're completely floored by how sudden that is. Aren't you two too young? Isn't he about to enter into university? What about all your future plans?

Kisaki has an answer for everything. He tells you he knows he's gonna make it big, and that you two will be happy and comfortable for the rest of your lives. He just wants to make sure he has the most important things taken care of and this is biggest step.

You try to hold off on it. Come up with every excuse you can to not go through with it, but he doesn't give you much room for argument.

It becomes clear to Kisaki that you're not going to relent, so he decides that he needs to change his plans a bit. So a few nights after graduation on a surprise trip he planned for you two he takes action.

The Scheme

He's been planning this night for a few months now actually. He made sure to switch out your birth control, and he's been slipping vitamins into your food to boost your fertility.

The guy is dedicated because he's even done research on how to boost sperm count lol. He's eating better and he's working out more because he read that will definitely help.

This freak even tracked your cycle to know when you're gonna be ovulating

Most frustrating of all, he's been abstaining from any kind of sexual activity, saying he wants to focus on school and exams.

But that's all bullshit because he doesn't hesitate to start some heavy makeout and petting sessions just to cut it off short and leaving you wanting more.

It wasn't easy for him, he's addicted to that sweet body of yours, but its all worth it for how you're grinding down on his fingers..

Baby

He dicks you down within an inch of your life.

You two are so committed to each other and you've been together so long that he knows everything that drives you crazy. He knows where to kiss you, where to bite you, how to touch you to make you breathless.

The aphrodisiac he slipped you is also helping make this very easy. He's barely touched you and you're practically drowning the fingers he's got buried in your sweet pussy.

You're begging so cutely too, just crying about how bad you want him already, but Kisaki is meticulous he can't cave in just yet.

He eats like a man that's starving, spending so much time licking you and sucking that clit his jaw actually aches.

When he feels you've been fingered and licked until your practically braindead does he pull out the condoms. He poked holes in them of course. He was just planning on telling you they ripped, and giving you the Plan B he had prepared (Dont worry its a fake)

But you shock him

"Its ok, Tetta," you tell him with tears running down your cheeks, and your hands spreading your thighs wide for him, presenting yourself like a present, "J-just for tonight. I wanna feel you..."

He loses it. He planned on keeping his cool for you and taking it nice and slow for his sweet girl, but hearing you tell him he didn't need to wear a condom was like you were signing up to have his baby.

And trust me, you're getting knocked up with the way he's hammering into your cervix. Your pussy is gripping onto him and sucking him back every time he thrusts.

Of course you're just babbling at this point telling him he's perfect and how good his big dick feels in your gummy walls. The guy was always on the big side, but taking every inch raw? It's too much.

Your whole body is basically telling him you want to get pregnant and why wouldn't it? You guys are soulmates? Your destined to have his kids.

It doesn't take long for you, you're overstimulated to all hell, and soon you're gripping onto him for deal life when you cum, practically milking him for all he's worth.

And he's cumming thick ropes into your womb, filling you up and keeping his cock stuffed in your hole to make sure it takes.

Aftercare, Afterwards

Kisaki is the king of aftercare, idc who wants to say this is OOC I'll die on this hill, and he feels so bad for everything when he see you're puffy eyes and wrecked body.

He doesn't feel bad about anything else though. You two are written in the stars, if he had to push things along that's just the natural order.

But he does feel like an ass when he notices how your body is shaking from the over stimulation and how you're barely conscious from his onslaught.

His touches are gentle when he kisses you and wipes you down. He's so soft with your over sensitive body and he's soothing all the places he left bruises.

You can hear him whispering about how much he loves you and adores you when you're drifting in and out of conciousness. You can't even tell him how much you love him back with how raw you throat feels from all the moaning you were doing.

Kisaki can tell you're trying to say something but he just smiles and reassures you that its fine. Try to rest for now, he'll take care of everything.

And for some unexplainable reason, you feel as thought he means that in more ways than one.

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : white day?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear Christmas,

PARIS??? Ah, je suis allée l'année dernière, mais c'était pour les vacances. Ah... Ville de l'amour... I'm kidding. I went last year for vacation. It was nice. I think going to Paris for work would be... idk. I'm sure you can get away with some Spanish, though. My friend was talking about how it was somehow more crowded than usual this year. (She went again... WITHOUT ME)

The postcard is so cute... Anyways, here's a polaroid I got of Sesame Bun in exchange. It was finally bright enough for her to register, and she's so cute it's CRIMINAL!!! AUGHHHHH my sweet baby. Sorry, since everyone's in Paris, I haven't been getting any bookings at all which is nice but I've been so bored at home it's almost crazy. Maybe I should reread okra's fic... or write something myself. Why do I only write when I'm like stressed as hell with no time??? Boo.

Anyways, my friend and I's shipment of asian snacks arrived, so I'm mailing a package of an assortment of snacks. You can share if you have other people in your airbnb. I seldom hear about models in airbnbs, though... why not a hotel again?

Anyways, if someone hits on you, you can tell them you're seeing someone or something. It doesn't hurt to be a little delusional. Just... don't let that fester into reality and actually go insane and think you're dating, alright? Stalking is only ever somewhat cute when it's a fictional character.

The phrase... "J'ai une petite amie" should work. If you have no idea how to say that, it's "zhay yune peutit ahmi" and if you can't pronounce that either, just google it. French is really just the more mouth-closed cousin in terms of language when it comes to Spanish. Italian is the open-mouthed brother. It's an interesting trio. Also, did you know Paris Fashion Week started in 1973?? Crazy if you ask me.

Hope you like the snacks! scrambled eggs

You package everything quickly and swiftly, paying for express shipping, and once that's done, you head downtown to have a day to yourself after dropping off the box. You need to touch some grass, touch the sea, experience nature, and catch up with your vitamin D.

The sun is good enough, lying in the middle of the park and soaking up the sun, sound of cars and other people chattering behind you. You're glad almost no one celebrates White Day in the States. You hear someone chatter about receiving flowers, but that's the extent of it. Beautiful day out, beautiful sun, absolutely gorgeous—

You squint at the sudden lack of sunlight and the sound of panting.

"Sunshine!" A girl chases after the dog that's decided to just hop up to you, and you blink.

"Is that your name?" You ruffle its fur, laughing as the dog barks an affirmative. "Oh, baby, you're so cute!"

The dog does a couple of laps around you, and you laugh as its owner runs up.

"I'm so sorry! He rarely does this, I promise." She heaves.

"...Claire?" You raise a brow. "You have a dog?"

"Oh! Oh my god!" She gasps as she recognizes you. "No, I'm dogsitting for one of our models in Paris right now. He's not mine."

"Oh, well he's quite friendly."

"Not often." She frowns. "He was throwing a fit this morning when I was trying to get him out for a walk, and I see him pretty often."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." She pauses.

"I'm down to take care of him if you want?" You raise a brow. "Or, I can hang out with you when you have to dogsit? I have no shoots lately since everyone's in Paris."

"That would be nice." She mumbles. "I don't have anything either, so I've just been dogsitting."

"Sunshine, was it? Cute little thing." You give the dog a good pat. "You want me to babysit? I'll take you out on walks. Hm? Does that sound good?"

The tail wagging seems to indicate something along the lines of an agreement.

"Claire?"

"I'm fine if you do. I'd be glad, actually." She mumbles. "I'll just text his owner. Do I have your number?"

"I think you do? Feel free to text me."

"Mm." Claire checks for your number, nodding. "I walk him every day at 10am here. See you tomorrow?"

"See you." You grin.

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[whump-mania]

you want prompts? I give you prompts. Here's where I dump my current obsession.

pirates. Boats. Do you know how filled with whump that entire section of history is? The songs, for example, that aren't 'I love the sea I'm married to her <3' are 'here's 110 reasons you can't drag my bloodied corpse back on one of those death vessels' and honestly that's beautiful.

The whump sea song off the top of my head is Off To Sea sung by the longest Johns, but there's ones like Dead And Drowned, 3 Score And 10, literally any pirate song (there's a lot of good ones by The Jolly Rodgers), Numbers by Jolly Rodgers, there's the one about going around the horn that details the cold and stale food and tyranny of the captain, Mutiny is a fun concept (that Jolly Rodgers and long Johns clearly have slightly different attitudes of looking at their respective songs by that title.)

I assume you've heard what to do with a drunken sailor. Different bands have slightly different verses to that one, you really haven't listened to it in full until you hear all the terrible things you can do to your drunken mate that different bands think of.

The Tempest.

Did you know that sailors would eat in the dark because their food would almost always be crawling with maggots and they didn't want to think about that?

Or that scurvy reopens old wounds? Or that it's a vitamin deficiency and not anything actually inherent to the sea so theoretically a landlubber whumpee could get it?

Ocean whump my beloved <3

I FW PIRATE WHUMP HARD

Here’s some other things I love about it (I’ve probably talked about it before but who cares):

-Salt water + wounds

-Stowaways being caught

-Whipping

-You said this one but MUTINY and the consequences that go along with it

-Just like the general public humiliation potential too

-The fear of being isolated at sea with people who only wanna hurt or kill you

[putschki1969]

2024/07/10 Blog post by Wakana おしゃべりガーデン第11回目‼️〜とにかくたくさんお喋りしました〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Talk Garden Vol.11‼️〜I Talked a Lot〜

Vol 11 of Wakana' Chat's Talk Garden has been uploaded!! ＼(^o^)／This time, I asked you to submit all sorts of questions for me😊I wanted to read as many of your messages as possible so the episode turned out really long…😅💦I know it's probably a hassle to listen to the entire thing but please bear with me, take your time and listen to the podcast whenever you feel like it🤗✨

Here is the "Silk Nightcap" I mentioned in the podcast (looks surreal doesn't it?😂) I think it fits quite well *laughs* The back looks like this. You can tuck away and protect your long hair😆

And here's some info about my summer skin care! I didn't answer the question properly during the podcast so I thought it would be best to show you everything here😂In summer, I tend to prefer skin care products that are a little lighter than the ones I use in winter, but I don't want to change my routine completely.😊All these items are from Korean brands…🤣Aside from chaging the lotion I use for my facial device, the lineup is pretty much the same as in winter. However, since the UV rays are strong during this time of year, I use a lot more cosmetics with whitening agents. I use the same nighttime serums all year round, one with vitamin C, another one with retinol. I use the one with retinol on days when I've been exposed to too much air conditioning, and the one with vitamin C on days when I've been exposed to UV rays. I have various morning serums…not just the ones you see here, there are about four types that I use depending on my mood. One product that's different in summer is my cream, I use the tube in the back on the right side at night. In the morning, I use the tube in the back on the left side as a good base for my makeup. By the way, my tone-up serum is the tube next to my morning cream. I love the brand "Serendi Beauty", but unfortunately, their products have been sold out for a while and I can't buy them anywhere😭It's not featured here but their lotion in particular is seriously the best…!!

I also use face masks in the morning and at night, the same ones I use in winter 😊Here's my starting lineup for facial masks✨Once again, I've increased my stock of whitening products! And of course I also want something that is very moisturising! I aim to feel well hydrated from the inside. That way, even if I do my makeup with a matte finish, my face won't dry out all day 😊💓

Well, since I have some spare time… I'll briefly try to answer a few of the remaining questions! (^^)

Q. Do you mind spoilers? For shows, movies, novels, manga, games, setlists, anything? A. I don't like spoilers for weekly shows that I look forward to watching. I am very fascinated by anything horror-related but I think it's too scare so I can't really watch it. That's why I always read all the spoilers *laughs* Also, I'm such a beginner at games so I watch a lot of walkthrough videos of good players to help me get past difficult parts.

Q. Do you receive all of our letters and presents? A. Yes! I've received all of them, including every single letter😊 Thank you as always…✨ Speaking of which, I once received some hair oil which made my hair super smooth and silky so I bought some for myself!! !

Q. Are you okay with heights? A. I'm not that bad at heights but I feel like the glass floor of Tokyo Tower is pretty scary😇 Also, I've never been on one but the Ferris wheel carriages with glass floors look pretty scary too😇

Q. What are some recommended spots in Yokohama? A. The sea and the night view around the Red Brick Warehouse are beautiful!! !

Q. Have you ever had a pet before? A. When I still lived at home with my parents we had a dog🐕 When I started living alone, I had a goldfish🐟 (My little goldfish Buu-chan has passed away and gone to heaven a long time ago (;_;)🐟✨)

Q. Even though my message was read during the last episode, the present hasn't arrived yet. When will it arrive? A. Please forgive me, I'm always so slow at making my postcards for you. I will try my best to have them delivered by the beginning of the next month! I'm sorry for making you all anxious, wondering if the postcard got lost in the mail… 😱 Please wait patiently~ (I'm even more sorry that last month's presents were super late… 💦)

I want to answer even more of your questions but I'm going to stop here before it gets out of hand 😅If you have any other questions, please send them to me~

The next talk theme for the episode on August 10th will be "What kind of pillow do you use?/What is everyone's pillow situation?" Additionally, you can continue to send random questions you'd like to ask me! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／The deadline is July 31st!! ! Please send in as many messages as you can!! ! 💌

Well then, everyone! This Saturday I am performing at the summer event “AirTrip presents Everyday’s Omatsuri 2024”! See you at Yokohama Red Brick Warehouse~♪＼(^o^)／♪

Until next time~☆( '▽')/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

Wakana’s Talk Garden #11

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Episode #11 »»—— CLICK ME 🎁 CLICK ME ——«« ・Anything you’d like to ask Wakana/Anything you’d like Wakana to talk about

One fan asked about Wakana's time as a gospel choir member and whether she remembered liking any particular songs or singers. While she doesn't have a lot of memories, she recalls three specific songs => "This Little Light of Mine", "Seasons of Love" and "It's Raining Men". Loved that we got a few snippets of her singing some lines of each song. I honestly wouldn't mind if she released another cover album with all sorts of Western/American music

For next month’s episode which is scheduled to air on August 10th, the following two topics have been chosen:

・ What kind of pillow do you use?/What's your pillow situation? ・Anything you’d like to ask Wakana/Anything you’d like Wakana to talk about

The submission deadline is 07/31.

Everyday’s Omatsuri Merchandise

Two original items have been revealed as live goods for Wakana's upcoming appearance at the summer event "Everyday's Omatsuri"! One is a t-shirt and the other is a muffler towel. You can order both in Wakana's Official Online Shop! Preorder period ends on July 12! Shipping is scheduled for the end of July. (Source) (Instagram post by Wakana)

Title: “AirTrip presents Everyday’s Omatsuri 2024” Date and time:July 13, 2024 Open 18:30 / Start 19:00 Venue: Yokohama Red Brick Warehouse Performers: RYTHEM・Wakana Official site: http://omatsuridays.jp/

2024/07/11 Instagram post by Wakana

Today I had a rehearsal for the summer event “Everyday’s Omatsuri 2024”which will take place this Saturday 🤗✨ Here I am together with the two members of RYTHEM and Takebe-san! Say Cheese 📸YUI-san and YUKA-san were so cute and dazzling…😍💓I'm excited because I think it's going to be a fantastic peformance✨I hope everyone will come and have a great time~🧚💕(Source)

[greypetrel]

No harsh feelings for the Arishok, uh?🤟🦝💥

Day 3 with your local trash raccoon gaining another husband in @dungeons-and-dragon-age's Ari. She's a lesbian and he's taken, she's taken too now that you mention, you say? Varric is officially her husband number 1? What pointless details, more is more in love as well, no?

(Raina's getting sent on a forced vacation by the sea to get some vitamin D and some sun after this week.)

[adore-laur]

SUNSTRUCK

— a sensual addition to southpaw 🌞

——

TODOS SANTOS, 1992

Palms slick with saltwater spread atop the surfboard floating in Mexico's turquoise ocean, its waxed surface scorching to the touch as it sparkles underneath the smoldering sun. Heaving himself up with taut and tanned arms, Harry switches out the cool engulfment for a beating heat that strikes his skin just right. Droplets cascade down the toned muscles of his back. Freckles that have come out of hiding dot his face in scattered clusters. The ultraviolet rays of June naturally bleach his tufts of baby hair blond.

He's unequivocally thriving, surrounded by a yellow aura gleaming brilliantly in the daylight.

Lying on his stomach, he manually paddles over to where Sawyer is supine on her pink inflatable raft. With a caramel-colored complexion and slim, silky legs that shimmer from the start of a sun-drenched summer, she resembles a solstitial vision for the ages. She has never looked more relaxed in all the years he's known her. Her limbs, which soak up splashes of vitamin D, are loose and not tense from working stationary hours at her office desk. There's no wrinkled crease of frustration between her eyebrows that needs to be smoothed out, nor is there a troubled frown pulling at her lips that needs to be lifted. She's in her own bubble of iridescent ecstasy.

This hush-hush getaway has rejuvenated their souls. The lush ocean breeze and visually flamboyant architecture lured them like they were a message in a bottle destined for the shoreline. Harry finally has uninterrupted time to spend with Sawyer in private in a nestled town where no one knows his name. Domesticity has already begun blooming in the desert bungalow where they're staying. Whispered confessions of love and gratitude were spoken around the rims of coffee mugs. Waking up with her in his snuggly embrace is a luxury he's still getting used to. Kisses followed by wandering hands careen lazy mornings and sleepless nights. Their relationship is flourishing every day, and it feels like paradise.

As Sawyer tans like a sun goddess, Harry grows increasingly bored. The sluggish waves weren't nearly powerful enough to triumphantly catch, so he resorted to catching some rays instead. It didn't pan out too well because now his back is burning and his girlfriend isn't paying attention to him. It's a deadly combination he needs to fix immediately.

"Sawyer," he says, peskily flicking water at her. "There's a shark behind you."

Opening her pretty brown irises, shielded with cat-eye sunglasses, she flips him off and grouses, "You're not funny."

Harry smoothly straddles his surfboard and points past her. "I'm serious. Don't move, okay? I can see its fin circling."

It only takes a single second for her precious face to drop. She timidly shifts her sunglasses to the top of her head and stares at him in terror. "Is there really?" she whispers, as if the non-existent shark is eavesdropping on the two lovers. "What do we do, Harry? Oh no, what do we do?"

To not crack a mischievous grin severely tests his might. "I'll grab you and take you to land. Don't worry, baby."

"We can't!" she tells him urgently, her voice rising to a whisper-shout. Thankfully, she doesn't dare turn around to see if they're actually in grave danger. "It'll follow us if we move. We have to be smart about this."

Harry dramatically looks off into the distance, like he's in a film playing a determined survivor lost at sea. "If this is the last time we see each other," he declares with faux valor, "I want to die knowing I tried saving you."

Sawyer gawks at his morbid statement. He thought it was romantic. "Are you out of your mind? Don't say things like that!"

There's a slight growl to her tone, and she appears borderline petrified, so he abandons his silly prank. He's close enough to her raft to stretch his body forward and lift her, so he does, but not before humming the menacing Jaws theme and wiggling his fingers in her direction. She looks bewildered as he grips her waist and carefully transfers her to his surfboard. Once she's sat in front of him, he clings to her like a koala on a eucalyptus tree, his perspiring chest pressed flat against her back.

"Hi," he murmurs, nuzzling her cheek with his nose. "There's no shark. I just wanted to be near you."

Sawyer stills, then hastily unwinds his arms from around her. "You're so annoying," she whines, harmlessly slapping his thigh and grabbing her raft so it doesn't drift away.

Harry cups her jaw and tilts her head toward him. "You love me. I annoy the hell out of you, yet you can't get enough of me."

Glancing at his lips, she situates herself on his lap and smiles. "It's true. My sunray makes me happy even when he's a complete ditz."

Harry suddenly doesn't know how to speak, too enraptured by her natural beauty paired with a doe-eyed gaze that melts him like an ice cube on a sizzling driveway. Those brown eyes could get him to do anything she desired. Does she know that? Does she see the influence she has over him? Does she know nothing made sense in his life before he met her?

Unable to express his undying commitment to her without stumbling over his words, he utters a simple and sincere, "I love you."

Sawyer places her hand over his heart. "I know it."

Eventually, the rolling tide brings them back to the shore. The Baja California Peninsula's tip possesses powdery sand grains that carry on for miles. This particular beach, Punta Lobos, is a hidden gem, and no tourists infest the area during the week. Rocky bluffs border the water, and the occasional hiker will admire the oceanic view from their advantage before retreating down the trail behind the cliffs. Other than that, there's no one lurking around and disturbing the peace.

Harry and Sawyer lie side by side, sand sticking to their wet skin as the foamy waves barely reach their toes. Their fingers instinctively interlock; their palms are smoother due to being immersed in saltwater for hours, and something about it sends a firecracker shooting off in Harry's heart. Sawyer's skin after sunbathing is always gorgeous—golden, silken, and stamped with secret birthmarks only he knows the locations of.

He suddenly feels hot all over. Blazing sunbeams mixed with coursing dopamine are making him antsy. Trying to ignore his straying thoughts only worsens the constriction.

Looking over at his girl, Harry swallows and swipes his thumb across her chin to garner her undivided attention. She squints and beams angelically at him, a sheen of sweat gracing her cheekbones.

"Pretty girl," he says, his knuckles tracing the shape of her jaw. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm thinking about where our next destination should be."

"Nowhere. Let's stay here forever."

Sawyer ruffles his wavy hair. "And do what?"

A thousand scenarios whip around in his brain, and he ends up settling on asking his favorite question. "Wanna make out?"

Her plump lips instantly melt into a blissful smile. She rolls over on top of Harry's body, her syrupy skin adhering to his as she clasps his cheeks with her hands. She grants him his wish, coaxing warm and salty kisses from his mouth. His greedy hands roam the back of her thighs, trailing them up and down her sun-kissed flesh. Her ankles prop up and cross over each other, and she hums into his mouth as their craving kisses deepen. The pendant with his first initial that rests perfectly between her clavicles reminds him she's not going anywhere, as does the ring he gifted her that's settled on her finger, the cool metal neutralizing his flaming body temperature.

The unfortunate cause of their breakaway isn't because their love-filled lungs are deprived of oxygen. It's because, after all, they're on a public beach, and the sound of distant chatter has them pulling apart as quick as a zap of lightning.

Sawyer stands, briskly adjusting her bikini straps and glancing around like what they were doing was a scornful obscenity. She's adorably flustered. On the other hand, Harry sits up and nonchalantly adjusts himself while pinching his swollen bottom lip. He would be lying if he said he hasn't noticed excessive PDA isn't something Sawyer is necessarily comfortable with now that they're dating. She shies away from it, while he's quite the opposite. It's almost impossible to suppress the urge to touch and kiss her like there's no tomorrow, so he doesn't feel awkward about the innocuous disruption.

As he snatches his floral-patterned button-up that he left stranded on the sand and begins putting it back on, he spots his camcorder nearby. He brought it along to capture memories, which so far have mostly been of Sawyer in her feminine element—sunbathing on the poolside lounge chair with a magazine in her lap, curling her eyelashes in the bathroom mirror, dancing and singing to "Venus" by Bananarama on the bungalow sofa. 

She's the center of his universe. The summit of beauty and love.

His gaze flits between the device and Sawyer, who is now red in the face. It's amusing, so he brings the viewfinder up to his eye and presses the record button. He purses his lips to hide his growing smirk as he zooms in on the small group of people strolling to the coastline and then on her rattled reaction. 

It doesn't take long for her to notice. She jogs over to block the lens with her hands, fretting, "Stop it! This is so humiliating."

Harry laughs, lifting the camcorder to a height she can't reach. Sawyer is looking at him unimpressed, her arms crossed, and her head tilted to the side. The people most definitely saw them being handsy and smitten out in the open, but what's there to be sheepish about? Love is meant to be shown to the world.

"Are you embarrassed?" he teases, dragging out the last word.

She raises her eyebrows and nods. A hint of a smile plays on her lips, but it doesn't seem genuine. It appears insistent, one of hidden discomfort. 

Harry isn't a total space cadet, so he takes it as a cue to quit messing around and acknowledge her unspoken signals. He stops recording and drops the camera in the striped beach bag slung over her shoulder. He then tucks his surfboard under his armpit and offers Sawyer his free hand. The energy between them has shifted by a smidge, and he doesn't like it one bit. The grains of sand beneath his soles somehow turned into eggshells within minutes.

"Ready to leave?" he asks. Sawyer nods again, still ominously silent, as she ignores his hand and fetches her deflating raft. "'Kay. Let's hit the road, then."

They arrive at the rental car, a vintage orange convertible that made his pockets hurt. Sawyer wanted it, and he couldn't refuse her. The hood is up in case of unpredictable weather, so Harry straps and fastens his surfboard to the top while Sawyer hops in the passenger seat, throws her raft in the backseat, and shimmies back into her daisy dukes.

Harry sits behind the steering wheel, his lanky limbs struggling to comfortably fit in the restricted space. The engine rumbles to life when he turns the key in the ignition, and he rolls the windows down before reversing out of the vacant parking lot. He peeks at Sawyer a few times as he merges onto the highway winding along the coast. She's staring at the desert landscape ahead that's saturated with a golden haze from the forthcoming sunset. Cacti and dead brush sizzle under the evening sun. Mountains tower over the feathery clouds. Vultures circle in the sky as roadrunners scurry along the pavement. It's stark scenery, but nonetheless transcendent.

None of his surroundings matter, though, when his favorite person to talk to is overtly ignoring him. He tries to convince himself that maybe she's just tired. No, that can't be right. He knows her. She's affectionate when she hits a wall and cuddles up to him sweetly, clinging to his arm like a sloth on its beloved branch.

The truth is that he messed up.

Before he can dwell on every misstep he took in the past ten minutes, an earsplitting boom cuts through the atmosphere, followed by a rapid whooshing sound. Harry firmly clutches the wheel as the vehicle suddenly loses equilibrium. Without outwardly panicking, he takes his foot off the gas pedal and lets the car naturally slow down before pulling it off to the side of the road and braking lightly.

"Shit," he hisses under his breath, his heart thumping erratically. "Goddamnit. I think one of the tires just blew out."

Poor Sawyer has her eyes pinched shut and a death grip on his bicep. Harry snaps back to reality and kills the engine, listening for any odd sounds. Before he steps out, he gives the top of Sawyer's head a gentle, comforting noogie and murmurs, "It's okay. We're okay."

She shakily gets out with him and leans against the passenger side door, anxiously biting her polished fingernails, while Harry perplexedly settles a hand on his hip and assesses the external damage. The front right tire looks like one of the clocks in Salvador Dalí's The Persistence of Memory—sad, melted, and a surreal depiction of an unfavorable outcome.

He looks up and down the highway, finding no signs of any buildings, vehicles, or humans. Something he does see, however, is a broken beer bottle a couple of yards behind where they were driving a mere minute ago. Most of the shards of green glass are scattered along the edge of the road, yet a few stray pieces are lying in just the right place for any vehicle that comes racing down the highway. It's the perfect puncture for a not-so-perfect boyfriend already on thin ice. Karma must have a vendetta against him today, but he won't let it clip his wings. When life gives him lemons, he knows how to make a delectable pitcher of lemonade.

So, Harry does what he's best at: distracting his girlfriend. He can quickly turn this misfortune into something fun and make Sawyer forget about how sour the day has turned.

Swiping his sweaty forehead with his wrist, he huffs and gets to work. He's changed a few tires in his life, so it should be done in no time. First, he takes his shirt off so he doesn't get heatstroke. The humidity outside is brutal, causing sweat to bead by his hairline and on his back. He makes a show of slowly unbuttoning it and slinging the fabric over his shoulder. It's obvious Sawyer's gaze is locked on him. He's willing to admit he possesses vanity over his physicality, and it doesn't help that the girl watching him constantly feeds his ego.

Next, Harry takes his sweet time and saunters to the trunk, where the rental agency told him the spare tire is located. Lifting the trunk and flexing his arms, he opens the well to reveal the tire. There's also a jack and lug wrench that'll come in handy.

After gathering everything, he kneels on the blistering road, loosens the tire's lug nuts with the wrench, and then places the jack under the vehicle's frame. He stretches his arms above his head before using the jack to slightly lift the car off the ground. After removing the lug nuts, he removes the ruined tire, momentarily glancing at Sawyer as he breathes heavily from his body's exertion in the unbearable heat. She's in front of the car now, looking at the sunset that paints elegant splashes of pink and orange across the horizon.

Harry grunts as he tosses the tire aside. Sawyer glances back, and he doesn't miss how her eyes flick down to his abdomen, now slick with a sheen of sweat. 

"Wanna learn how to do this?" he calls out, grunting again when he picks up the pristine spare.

He's given no response as he lines up the holes and pushes the tire into the wheelbase. His biceps flex with soreness, and when he peers up again, Sawyer still looks at him, her eyes communicating something obscure. They have a little stare-down until he can't take it anymore and begins replacing the lug nuts. His jaw is clenched as he works quickly to try to get to the bungalow as soon as possible so they can untangle this yarn of bizarre tension.

Once the tire is secure, the old one is thrown in the trunk, and the tools are all put away. Harry walks over to Sawyer. She's perched herself on the car's hood, picking at her cuticles. Standing in front of her, he places his hands on either side of her thighs, his shoulders taut as he watches her eyes dance over the sky behind him. He kisses the tender spot below her jawbone, tasting and smelling the residual coconut tanning lotion left there. Goosebumps rise across the expanse of her neck like a swelling tidal wave, and Harry can't help but bury his face in it and whimper pitifully. He's like a needy puppy when she ignores him, pawing for the tiniest bit of love and attention.

"It's so hot out," he complains before sighing dramatically. "Let's head back."

Sawyer doesn't push him away, which counts as progress. "I want to watch the sun go down," she says, lost in thought. "Who knows the next time we'll be able to see it on an abandoned desert highway."

He won't argue with that. He doesn't need to or necessarily want to. If Sawyer wants to soak in the sunset, he'll endure the feverish weather if it makes her happy. Besides, she's right; little precious moments, such as experiencing the sun dip below the horizon, leaving behind a new, wispy portrait of captivating colors each day, are worth pausing life from time to time.

Sealing a kiss on her forehead, Harry hops on the hood and settles beside her. "I'll never learn how to say no to you."

☼ ☼ ☼

Back at the secluded bungalow, an unorthodox band of tension is still waiting to be snapped.

Sawyer has started cooking dinner with the miscellaneous ingredients she purchased from the downtown market yesterday morning. Canola oil is popping and sizzling in a frying pan, and julienned bell peppers of various colors are ready to be sautéed. Harry took a quick shower to wash the ocean and sweat from his sunburnt skin and has since changed into a white long-sleeved button-up tucked into teal trousers. He also has a pair of sunglasses over his eyes to help relieve spending hours in saltwater and squinting under the blinding sun.

Sawyer is in a tight, cropped blue camisole with low-waisted silk pajama pants. Her hair is down, golden beach waves reaching the middle of her back as she maneuvers around the kitchen area. Harry observes her from the dining room table, not quite knowing how to initiate a conversation without stretching the metaphorical elastic too far. Or worse, past the point of no return.

He watches Sawyer tilt the cutting board over the pan so the peppers fall into it. They immediately crackle when introduced to the heat. She then takes a wooden spoon and stirs the vibrant vegetables, turning on the overhead stove fan so the smoke doesn't set any detectors off. She's still ignoring him, entirely focused on one task, and pretending there's not an elephant in the room that needs to be addressed before the night concludes. Harry knows if he brings it up, she'll shut it down, say everything is fine, and insist she's not angry. She's a terrible liar, so he'll save that tactic for another argument.

As he stares at the back of her head, he realizes he doesn't like her version of the silent treatment. It's okay if she won't talk to him, but acting like he doesn't exist is ruthless. So, he walks over to her and wraps his arms around her slim waist. She tenses but continues mixing the peppers in silence. 

Okay, that's definitely not the reaction he wanted. Not even an ounce of acknowledgment when he begins kissing her neck, taking his time loving on the beautiful ridges carved there.

"Slow dance with me," he murmurs pleadingly, squeezing her.

"I'm busy right now."

Now, don't get him wrong; he likes her stubbornness. He even finds it incredibly endearing, to a degree. But when it's directed toward something he's clueless about, he finds himself having to coax an answer past her adamant walls of defense. Being candid doesn't always end well, so choosing the proper approach is crucial if he wants to crawl out of the hole he's dug himself into.

Harry reaches around her preoccupied figure to flick the stove's heat off. The blue flame vanishes, and the sizzling ceases, causing Sawyer to sigh heavily as she sets the wooden spoon off to the side. She still doesn't turn around, even when Harry moves her thick hair over her left shoulder and starts planting warm kisses further down her skin, slower and more intentionally. She smells like the ocean breeze at the height of summer, sweepingly refreshing and pure. He doesn't know how he went so long without touching her like this.

Light from a dying yet persistent sunset pours through the slanted ceiling window. The nearby radio quietly plays a mariachi song that doesn't fit the fraught mood. Upbeat and punchy, the music is supposed to evoke happiness and camaraderie. It falls short this time, but like before, lemons can always be turned into lemonade.

"Do you know how to salsa?" Harry pipes up while stepping away, giving her room to breathe.

"How to make salsa?" Sawyer replies distractedly. She's begun garnishing the semi-cooked peppers with fresh oregano.

"No, how to dance the salsa."

She drizzles more oil into the pan. Her hand hovers over the stove's knob to light the flame again, but she retracts and mutters, "Um, not really."

Harry rolls his sleeves to his elbows and tosses his sunglasses onto the counter. "It's all in the hips, isn't it?"

She glances back at him for a split second before leisurely spinning around and crossing her arms over her chest. "Did you need something?"

"Sí, muñeca."

The almost invisible twitch of her lips doesn't go unnoticed by his attentive nature. "What is it?" she asks impatiently. "I'm trying to make dinner. You know, I've realized you always decide to be a pest when I'm not paying enough attention to you."

Busted. Well, at least she's talking to him now.

Harry begins clapping his hands to the song's rhythm in the background and swinging his hips in a terrible presentation of what's supposed to be salsa dancing. Sawyer arches her eyebrow and blankly stares at his uncoordinated movements. He's making an absolute fool of himself, but honestly, he just wants to see her smile. He'll go to the greatest lengths.

Shuffling closer to her, he caresses her limp hands and tries to get her to loosen up. "Let's dance."

“I'm not in the mood to dance."

He frowns dramatically, widening his feet to be the same height as her. "What's going on right now, hmm? We were having so much fun earlier."

Sawyer slides away from the stove and leans against the adjacent kitchen wall. A psychedelic painting of a gecko in the desert hangs above her. "It's not that hard to figure out," she says, looking everywhere but at him. It stings just a tad.

One of Harry's hands rests flat on the wall beside her, his thumb faintly yet purposefully touching the shell of her ear. He leans in and murmurs, "Are you still upset with me?"

The stubborn girl he knows and loves dearly steadily nods her head. "I'm furious. My body is on fire."

He bites his bottom lip with his front teeth as his piercingly intimidating gaze hungrily travels downward and lands on her exposed stomach. The silver bellybutton ring shining against her golden skin sets him on fire in an entirely different way. She's a delectable feast for the eyes.

Harry doesn't believe that her blood is boiling to the extent of fury, but he'll entertain her flair for dramatics. He says, "I'm sorry for shoving a camcorder in your face when you got embarrassed."

Sawyer gives him a puzzled look. "Huh? Oh, I don't care about that. I'm over it."

"Okay, then tell me why you're so furious." He's being thrown for a loop, and it's making him dizzy.

It's clear she's internally contemplating her response based on how her posture becomes less stiff. After rubbing her arm awkwardly, she says, "Because you're not nice."

Harry blinks slowly. Once, then twice. "What?"

"You were being a jerk by teasing me while fixing the tire."

It takes a while to realize his plan totally backfired. His innocuous teasing wasn't supposed to make her even more mad at him, and now he's stuck in a maze of figuring out exactly what he did wrong. Girls are so complicated!

Unless…

"Is that what this is about?" he asks, his lips quirking in amusement and slow realization. Perhaps the little show he put on for her had the intended effect after all.

Sawyer scoffs. "Stop smiling!"

He grins like a lovesick fool. "I'm not smiling."

"Yes, you are! Your eyes smile before your mouth does." She goes to tuck her stray baby hairs behind her ears, and when she does, Harry traps her fidgeting fingers with his hand still resting beside her head. 

"Yeah?" he goads, his pulse throbbing faster. "When did you notice that about me?"

"I've always noticed it. It's so easy to tell when you're about to smile. Your eyes glimmer, and then you scrunch your nose."

"You like watching me?"

"Cállate. We're not finished with this argument."

"Go on, then."

Sawyer waves her free hand around as incomplete sentences get caught in her throat. "I- you- we can't keep doing this!"

Harry's heart falters at the vagueness of her confession. "What are you saying? Be gentle with me."

She gathers her crumbling composure, then carefully says, "What I mean is... we can't keep fueling this fire if we're not going to do anything about it."

The fire she speaks of has been wildly swirling in his stomach for a long time. He's managed to tame the carnal flames by waiting for Sawyer to declare her desires first, since her comfort level is always his top priority. The opportunity has now risen, and he's lucky she has opened up so much so that he can jump in and kickstart the colloquy they've been hesitantly dancing around for months.

"Is this about sex?"

Pink spiderwebs of heat spread across her face. Harry's thumb presses down on the apple of her blushing cheek; her skin is delightfully warm. It's nice to know a little fire has also been burning in her stomach. It's just a matter of tending to both of them. Kindle the flames until they roar with lust.

"Sort of," Sawyer mumbles, her eyebrows plunging with an unknown emotion. "Maybe. Yes. I don't know. All I know is that I don't want to tiptoe around it anymore." Her hand reaches out to rest on his neck, her pleading body language igniting the embers again. "Harry, it's killing me. I can't hide it."

He cups the side of her head. "Why didn't you tell me sooner, baby?" His voice has stooped to a deep, gentle rumble that shelters her with compassion.

"I didn't want to rush into things." She drapes her arms over his shoulders and plays with the outgrown curls at the nape of his neck. "I want to take my time with you and soak you in day by day. Take slow sips of your sunshine."

Knees weak, Harry whispers, "Don't. Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"With those eyes, Sawyer. Don't look all innocent when your words are the opposite."

She's completely clueless about how her imploring brown eyes can hold such seductiveness. Amber flecks swim in her irises, which are the color of dark chocolate. Rich. Exquisite. Tempting. Harry wants to break her off between his teeth like peppermint bark and swallow her silky, revivifying sweetness.

The tip of Sawyer's nose trails along his jaw, her lips brushing a path against his hot skin and setting fire to his loins. "I'm just tired of being patient. Does that make sense?"

Harry gives her a slight, truthful nod, then slumps his forehead against hers. "Tell me what you need, and I'll give it to you. There's no need to be shy around me. I'm your boyfriend."

"What if you don't want the same thing? That'd be so embarrassing."

"Sawyer Alejandra, you are so goddamn stubborn. Do you want me to just give it to you straight? Because I will." He takes a deep breath before blurting, "I want to have sex with—"

She clamps her hands over his entirely-too-bold mouth. "Shush!" Pinching her eyes shut, she whines and grumbles, "Forget I said anything. I have to finish cooking dinner."

If there's one thing he knows about Sawyer's personality, it's that the second she feels an ounce of mortification, she immediately backtracks. He'd usually let it slide, but this topic of conversation is a tricky one to simply forget about and move on from, like nothing happened.

Harry unwinds her hands from around his neck and keeps them cradled in his grasp. Then, while staring into her devastatingly gorgeous eyes, he says, "This tension between us isn't going to just magically disappear. Either we do something about it or ignore it. Your choice."

Sawyer swallows thickly. "I want to, so badly. But I'm scared."

"Why?" he asks, trying to open her blooming petals. They're singed with uncertainty.

"It's an incredibly vulnerable act, dufus." She cutely wrinkles her nose.

"And we're incredibly vulnerable lovers, so what's the sitch?"

She brings their conjoined hands up to her lips and kisses his knuckles. Against his skin, she mumbles, "How do we even go about this? I've made it awkward."

He shakes his head in disagreement. "You didn't. Do you trust me to take the reins?"

"Of course."

"Then follow me to the bedroom."

Sawyer points to the stove. "But what about dinner?"

Harry pinches her cheek and starts dragging her down the hallway. "I know just the cure for an appetite."

☼ ☼ ☼

The queen-sized bed has sheer canopy curtains draped around it. They were too lazy to make it this morning, so the sheets are still crumpled, and pillows are strewn about. Sunlight streams through the open bay window, making the room glow a tender hue of honey. 

It's alluring and equally terrifying.

Harry went into the master bathroom to mentally prepare himself, even though he told Sawyer he was just freshening up. His reflection in the mirror peered back at him pensively. He fixed his hair about ten times, swiped another layer of deodorant across his armpits, and then gave himself a hushed pep talk before swinging the door open and putting on a cool, calm, and collected face.

Yet the butterflies in his stomach currently contradict everything he's trying to convey, especially when he finds his sweet Sawyer sitting against the headboard, the puffy duvet covering her bare breasts. The sun casts light on her stunning face and accentuates her apprehensive features. She's innocently staring at him as if she didn't knowingly climb into bed without any clothes on and sit there patiently waiting for him like the good girl she is.

And... he's hard already. Well, that's one less thing to worry about.

Harry clears his throat and strips down to his boxers, then slides into the space next to her, waiting with bated breath. Neither of them looks at each other, too hesitant to make the first move. They've both had sex with different people before, so it's not like they're blind leading the blind, but now that they're actually in the bedroom, all confidence has apparently flown out the window.

"We could start with, like, kissing or something." So much for saying he'd take the reins. He can't even speak properly right now.

In his peripheral vision, he sees Sawyer nod hastily. "Sure," she says, quieter than ever.

"Okay. Are you comfortable doing it naked since you're already... naked?" She laughs, and Harry smacks his forehead. "Sorry. God, I'm so nervous. You're making me feel like a teenager all over again."

Silence lingers long enough for him to finally gain the courage to glance at Sawyer. She locks eyes with him, then slowly, almost teasingly, lets the duvet drop and pool around her waist. Harry's mouth goes dry as he takes in skin he's never fully seen before. She's soft, shapely, and undeniably tempting.

Sawyer crawls on her hands and knees until she's straddling his lap. She still has her underwear on, lace boy shorts that hug her hips deliciously well. With blood rushing to his brain (and other places), his reaction is a bit delayed until his hands eventually find their place on her waist. He's breathing deeply, nostrils flaring as he ravenously wonders how she will look naked underneath him, pleasure etched on her face.

"You're divine," Harry whispers while toying with the flimsy hem of her underwear.

"So are you," she replies, rubbing a coquettish hand down his chest. "Hey, let's maybe skip the kissing part? I'm kind of impatient."

"Damn, all right. We're diving straight in."

She presses her body against his torso and hooks her arms around his neck. "I want to feel you. I've dreamed about it."

A desperate groan sounds in his throat. "You're lying."

"I'm not. Then I'd wake up, and you'd be kissing me like you knew exactly what I needed. And your hands would get so close to where they were in my dream, but never close enough."

"Yeah? Where were my hands in your dream?"

Her eyes flutter shut as if she's recalling the fantasy. "Mm... everywhere. Warm and heavy between my thighs. Sliding up my stomach." A lazy, sensual smile creeps onto her lips as she adds, "Around my neck."

Harry is tired of waiting a second longer. He flips her over so he's on top, his silver necklace with the "S" pendant swinging over her collarbones like a pendulum. "Let me make you feel good. I'll give you the real deal."

Sawyer twists the chain around her pointer finger and tugs him closer. "Please. I want it more than anything."

"Dig your heels into my back," he instructs before shuffling down her body until his head is lined up with her thighs.

She complies, and the pressure on his shoulder blades makes him choke on a moan. Her bent legs effortlessly fall open, granting him access to the single layer of fabric that comes between him and paradise. He stares at her from his position, his hands hooking around her knees. She stares back at him, a vehement fire in her eyes.

"It's all yours."

Her readiness is enough for him to lose his last shred of self-control. He leaves a suckling love bite on her inner thigh, then murmurs, "Lift your hips for me."

She raises the lower half of her body, and Harry slides her underwear off. She assists him when it reaches her ankles by kicking it across the bedroom. He focuses back on the inviting sight before him. A shiver trails down his spine when he takes two of his fingers and circles them around her entrance. She's dripping wet.

Sawyer's jaw goes slack as she scratches her nails across the expanse of Harry's sturdy back. He hisses past his clenched teeth, loving the luxurious burn. Tingling and tantalizing sensations course through his system as he tests the waters, slowly sinking his middle finger past her drenched opening. He vigilantly gazes into Sawyer's eyes the entire time, gauging her expressions for the faintest flicker of pain or unease.

"Talk to me," he says.

"It stings a little, but keep going."

"You're doing good. So, so good. Tell me if it's too much, okay?"

She nods with a raspy whine, so he adds another finger, then uses his thumb to press against her clit and rub halo shapes onto it. Her thighs tremble and tighten around his head, with tiny gasps escaping past her lips. He leaves bruising, biting kisses on her skin as he skillfully works his fingers, which are now soaked with her arousal. Filthy thoughts invade his fuzzy brain—thoughts of dreams he's had himself. Vivid images of doing what he's doing right now, except they'd always be cruelly cut short by the breaking of dawn.

Harry grinds his hips into the mattress, alleviating the ache, while his kisses move closer to where his fingers are. Sawyer's panted breaths motivate him to ask, "Do you want my mouth?"

"Yes, please. Eres tan bueno conmigo."

The foreign praise rolling off her tongue enchants him enough to dive into her sweet, sticky heat. He laps up her wetness like melted candy; the taste is dangerously addictive. He hums insatiably, his palms spreading on her lower stomach as he swirls his tongue inside of her. His cheeks are ablaze with sex drive as his eyes train themselves on Sawyer's face. Soft, sensual sounds trickle out of her mouth, fueling the intensity with which he pleasures her.

Pulling away for air, Harry whispers, "I can't get enough of you," before replacing his mouth with his fingers. They slide past her clenching walls so enticingly, so perfectly.

"Harry," Sawyer moans, fisting his hair and tugging at the strands. "I'm almost there. It's so strong."

He removes all body contact while sucking his fingers clean, then catapults off the bed to quickly grab a condom before she loses her approaching climax. He sifts through his duffel bag, finding the box he secretly packed in case something happened on this trip. 

Maybe he manifested it. Or perhaps his girlfriend is simply braver than him.

Making his way over to the bed again (tripping on Sawyer's unplugged curling iron in the process), he bounces back on the mattress and hands her the foil package. Her skin is glowing with an angelic radiance, but sinfulness cracks through when she pushes on his chest to get him to lay back. She straddles him and rips open the package with her teeth. The arch of her back, the excitement in her movements, and the slickness of her arousal are all he sees. She has no idea how heavenly she looks.

Sawyer's fingertips walk down his abdomen and brush over his length, which is straining against his boxers. "Can I?" she asks politely, her eyes wondrous.

"Go ahead, sweetheart." Harry cradles her head and brings it down for a fond kiss, her hair tickling his face. "Feeling okay? Not in pain or anything, are you?"

She shakes her head. "No. I feel like I'm floating."

"Same here." He breaks into an aching smile, coming to the realization of how special this moment is. "I love you so much. I'm going to remember this forever."

"Me too." Sawyer slides his boxers off, their harmonious breathing mixing together. Harry's cock breaks loose and rests against his happy trail, reddened and throbbing. "Woah."

He laughs at her reaction. "Don't act so surprised. It's all your fault, baby."

She blushes and carefully rolls the condom on while Harry stifles his moans by biting his knuckles. He won't last very long, but he'll make it worthwhile for her. He'll take his time, just how she likes it. Soak her presence in. Slow sips.

He sits on his knees, then motions for Sawyer to recline and spread her legs. Once she's in position, he settles an arm on either side of her body and hovers over her. He tucks her hair behind her ears and leaves a hungry kiss on her lips. "Ready?"

"Yeah," she exhales. "You?"

"Totally."

"Change my life, sunray."

Grabbing the base of his cock, he lines it up with her entrance. He reminds himself to go slow as his tip sinks into her, and he keeps it there as he watches Sawyer's face. Her shiny lips are parted, and her eyebrows are pushed together. Her legs squeeze him while her hands hold onto his biceps. The muscles of her cheekbones twitch. God, she's an angel.

"I've got you," Harry says, a thrilling knot forming in the pit of his stomach. "Fuck, you were made for me."

He sinks further into her wet warmth, one hand grasping her leg to bend it more. She's tight, yet he's able to fit himself all the way in. Gasps leave both of their mouths at the feeling of him bottoming out, and it's like everything is moving in slow motion, the golden haze in the room adding to the delicacy of the moment.

"Mierda. Oh my God, Harry. Oh my..." Her fragile voice, leaking with whispery weeps, shatters his poise as he begins thrusting in and out. Sawyer's limbs are weak, her feet slipping down to the dip of his spine. It's all hot breath and swallowing each other's noises with sloppy kisses. Being inside her is a level of intimacy that electrifies every part of his soul. It's unfamiliar territory that binds him closer to the girl he wants forever. The orange flames they stepped around for years are now a cool, sapphire-blue.

Their hips reconnect with each thrust, a beautiful sound fused with their satisfied moans. Harry's pendant sways forward, his neck straining. Sawyer's nails pierce crescent moons onto his back, followed by more scratches that make him shudder.

"Goddamn," he chokes out, his cheek pressed against hers. "You feel stellar. I'm close. Give me... Christ, give me something to dream about."

"I'm there," she says. "I love you. I can't hold it any longer."

"Let it go, Sawyer. C'mon."

Arching her back off the mattress, she orgasms with a cry of release, and the vision of her has Harry immediately spilling out into the condom. It's powerful, otherworldly, and absolutely life-changing. He pulls out and lays on top of her, embracing her in a hold of overwhelming adoration as he whimpers into the pillow beside her head. They both melt into each other, sweaty and happy, coming down from their individual climaxes.

Every minute that passes, the room grows darker due to the moon painting the sky black with stars. Only the wind and their breathing fill the space, with cool and heated gusts reciprocating. Harry can feel Sawyer's lips against his temple, curving up with a smile every so often. He's got a permanent smile as his fatigued gaze stares at the ring on her finger. He feels like sunshine is bursting from his pores and serotonin is being absorbed.

Sawyer is the first to move. She uses her remaining strength to get up and tightly wrap the sheets around her naked body before stepping out onto the balcony. With the door open, he can see the full moon illuminate the expanse of the flat desert, with cacti and palm trees looming as far as the eye can see. The lack of humidity at night causes a balmy breeze to encircle her body, whipping her tousled hair.

"Can I tell you a secret now that we've had sex?" Harry asks from his place on the bed. His voice is sore and hoarse.

Sawyer turns around and bites her lip with a giddy grin. "Shoot."

He disposes of his condom, then puts his boxers back on and joins her, not caring about the chilliness. He still feels warm inside and out. "Do you remember our phone call last September when I was in South Carolina with a broken wrist?"

A flash of remembrance crosses her moonlit face. "Yeah. I was so worried about you."

He cradles her cheeks and pertly kisses her nose. "You took such good care of me when I got back."

It's the absolute truth. All the tagalongs to physical therapy, icing his wrist while cuddled on the couch, being a shoulder to cry on when he got frustrated—he couldn't have done it without her.

"I hated seeing you in pain," she says, looping her arms around his torso. "It hurt my heart."

"Never mind that." He inhales deeply and pushes forth his confession. "You... when you said you missed me during that call, a feeling came over me. Something in your voice made me weak. And something happened to me that had never happened before. I don't even know why I'm telling you—"

"Spit it out, Harry."

His head tilts back as far as it can go. "Fuck's sake. I got hard, Sawyer. Your voice made me hard."

Her mouth hangs wide open. A well-timed gust of wind passes like an awkward moment in a cartoon. "Um, wow. I'm not really sure how to respond to that."

"You don't have to say anything. I just thought you should know now that we've done the deed."

Sawyer giggles, hiding her face in the space between his pecs. "First off, please don't call it that." She looks at him and continues, "Secondly, you thought I should know that you got hard in South Carolina?"

He starts laughing, too. It's contagious around her. "I should also probably tell you that I jerked it out in a crummy Holiday Inn shower. It was quite pathetic and sad."

She sputters out a boisterous cackle that echoes across the barren desert. Harry's cheeks flush instantly. "I appreciate your honesty."

"On a more serious note," Harry starts, gripping the balcony railing with one hand, the other on her hip, "I appreciate how you forced a confession out of me the next day. I don't know if I've ever told you that."

Her expression turns sorrowful. "I didn't mean to pressure you. It had been building up inside me for so long, and you looked so beautiful that night. My heart spoke for me, and—"

Harry cups her jaw and kisses her unexpectedly, making her squeak. It reminds him of that night in the rain when his blue raspberry lips collided with hers for the first time. He pulls away slowly, fitting his nose over her own and swaying her slightly. "You did everything right. I was a coward who was frightened of rejection. The thought of ruining what we already had was nauseating."

"You thought I would've rejected you?"

"I never really know what you're thinking. That pretty brain of yours holds so many secrets."

Sawyer steals a ripe kiss. "Can I tell you one right now?"

"Always."

She kisses him again before saying, "I see forever with you. I want to wake up in your arms every day. I want to laugh with you until our sides ache. I want to kiss you until I get dizzy."

"Sawyer," Harry whispers, his eyes softening.

"I mean it. No one will ever make me feel this type of love again."

"I feel the same. You're all I need."

"Te quiero. Mi alma es tuya."

He nips her neck, slow and tender. "If you keep speaking Spanish to me, we're not getting any sleep tonight."

"Sí? Quieres más rasguños en la espalda?"

"Gonna tell me what that means?"

She gracefully traces the tattoo on his abdomen and says, "I can show you instead."

Harry's stomach suddenly grumbles with hunger, ruining the intimate moment. He peers at the twinkling sky above and laughs at the inconvenient interruption. "I would love that, but I'm absolutely starving right now. We skipped dinner."

"There are cold peppers on the stove."

"Delicious," he says sarcastically, shifting his gaze to her again. A few seconds pass before something he wants to mention pops into his thoughts. "Hey, did you know this month marks five years since we first met?"

Sawyer gapes at him, genuinely surprised. "No way. Five years?"

"Crazy, right? Five years since you almost gave me a concussion."

"I still feel terrible about that," she admits with a pout.

Harry remembers everything about that day, even when his brain got jolted by a killer volleyball serve by the prettiest girl on Cocoa Beach. Her brown eyes were up close, holding gentle concern for a stranger. That sassy hand on her hip thing she still does today. Clementine fabric against caramel skin. Orange juice in a bottle. Summerboy.

"But if that never happened," he says quietly, "then we might've never spoken to each other."

Her dreamy hum tells him she's musing about it too. "That's true. Isn't it mind-blowing how the tiniest of decisions can affect the entire course of your life? I like to think that every past choice of mine led me to you."

He admires the way her voice gets wispy when her mind wanders. "Word. Does post-sex make you all philosophical and shit?"

She shrugs. "Maybe."

"Cool." Harry backs away while holding her hands until their fingers eventually slip from each other's grasp. "Well, while you brood about Plato's teachings, I'm going to snack on your world-famous half-cooked peppers."

"Have fun with that."

"I will. Love you." Halfway through the doorway, he suddenly stops and rushes forward, giving her a suffocating hug, his lungs breathing everything about her. "All jokes aside," he murmurs, "I also believe everything I did brought me to you. And it just makes sense to be in love with you. Okay, bye."

He's off and running toward the kitchen before she can say anything else, not even the shadows of night on the floor being able to darken the natural luminescence he leaves behind.

——

[ay-chuu]

Random Malleus personal + boyfriend headcanons

He's super good at tutoring you. Thanks to his knowledge about general culture and interest in lessons, he is very knowledgeable and can give you results in a single sentence whenever you need help.

I don't know why, but I think that if you believe in any religion, Malleus will be very interested in your religion and even start to believe in that religion while reading information about it. Because he wants to know your limits, but his main thought is that there is no way that humble person like you believes in bad things, so he finds himself drawn to that religion.

He loves knitted things. Although he is not very good at it, he believes that knitted things are made with sincerity, and he feels very safe when he wears it.

He researches your ethnic origins and traditions. Since he accepts you as you are, he learns your culture very well and makes you feel both at home and with your lovely boyfriend when you are with him. Even if you're mixed, it doesn't matter to him.

He loves to learn, he adds what he has learned while interpreting everything he cannot make sense of.

I think he has a special interest in sea creatures. Because most sea creatures, like him, can always feel love, even though they live around certain restrictions. He would love to play with Belugas.

If you have any vitamin deficiency, diabetes, insulin resistance, etc. that you have a problem. He wouldn't remind you to drink your pill/ medicine. Because he would be right in front of you with your pills or your vitamin, just in time.

If you have psychological diseases such as ADHD, he would definitely read the ancient books of experts and help you with or without pills according to your choice. Your mental, his mental. If you are sad he is sad, if you are happy he is happy.

So jealous. Sometimes he can become jealous for a baby if it involves you.

He knows the birthdays of your friends and family and sends each of them a special gift because he wants to be accepted and respected by his loved ones. Your BFF might be the most crack person in the world and he'll treat them like their butler T^T

He loves traveling your world with you. He feels like an anonymous person and your history is very interesting. Sculptures in museums, butterfly gardens, books… It's very interesting in your world, just like you.

Even if your birthday is a special day of the most ridiculous thing in the world (For example, my friend's birthday is world lemon day… interesting) it creates a theme about that day. Like if it is lemon day, he will add lemon to the decorations KSDFJKHLSDFHKH.

He's a deep thinker. He can think of every move he makes, but cannot control his reactions to sudden feelings.

He likes to make and eat cookies with you.

Some of his favorite books are The Sorrows of Young Werther, Coraline and Notes from Underworld.

He may be a very traditional man but he will try to learn whatever modern things you are interested in. I will repeat though, try to.

Generally, Malleus… is the lover in the role of a mystical man who came into your world from the book. But he does his best to prove his love for you, make it feel and live it.

He loves you for who you are. He does not search for any features. All he wants is for the voices in your hearts to match.

I would like to end with a quote of an author from my country. Because I think Malleus would definitely write poems for you and one of the lines would be like this.

"Maybe one day we'll get married, we'll have children; The one who looks like me becomes a poet (like me) The one who looks like you becomes a poem… (like you)" -Cemal Süreya

[jodiellie]

Day 10: Wesak Day (ㅅ´ ˘ `) (22/5/2024)

Health

Water intake: 700 mL

Sleep: 5:00am - 2:00pm (don't question it, this whole day is a mess just bcz it's not my usual routine asnknsf)

Vitamin C intake ❌

Allergy meds ❌

Does walking to my local temple count? ;-;; it's really humid and I sweat a bit but it's still a physical activity

Mind

Supernatural S3EP11

Food

Lunch: Flat-rice noodles soup with chicken and prawn

Dinner: Mixed rice

Snack: Banana + pandan cake + white wine (the reason why I didn't take my meds)

School/Career

Created an account for job application website

Finished up my resume

Applied for a part time job ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Note

If you can't tell from some of my food logs, admin is from SEA ASDJNDFJSD and today is Wesak day! I'm not too religious, but I do celebrate the holidays and practice some of the practices. Also god, I think I was so caught up with my job application stuff that I forgot to take care of myself? :( This always happens whenever I get busy and I just ✨forget✨ Hopefully tmr will be a better day and I'll get back into routine of taking care of myself! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

[glittertomb]

Current Obsessions 🌸🍄🐸💜🌿🌼

(Haven’t done one in 3 years, I think, and I have half an ounce of energy right now but here goes)

Scavengers Reign… an animated science-fiction show about a beautiful but dangerous planet with unusual biological mechanisms… watch for free here

Winternight Trilogy… a historical fantasy series spun with Russian fairytales, old gods, and curious creatures… rent on Libby with a library card

The Boy and the Heron… I know the latest Ghibli got some mixed reviews, but I’m just giddy to have another super magical film from our favorite Japanese retiree, and understanding how this film relates to his legacy and his son makes it much more emotional for me… it will be on Max at some point or watch for free on fmoviesz.to

Southern Reach Trilogy… I realized that the Annihilation movie was loosely based off of these books, so I had to know more about this quarantined (but ever-expanding) area where strange and psychedelic phenomena occurs… these are probably also on Libby

The Scholomance Trilogy… re-reading one of my favorite magical series in which students navigate a deadly world where monsters and even their own school seem to be coming for them at every turn… the first audiobook is available for free with a Spotify premium account, or just find them on Libby lol

Dave the Diver… explore the deep seas by day, run a sushi restaurant by night, and more… I dunno, I play it at my sister’s house so go look for it on Steam

This last one is kinda random but I’ve been really into Ito En teas at the moment… I usually get the giant bottles of unsweetened green tea from my local Asian markets… I’ve also been drinking a lot of giant bottles of unsweetened Aloe because I’m a giant ball of inflammation but I couldn’t find my brand.

So, the end! I hope these give you comfort as we wait for spring! If you’ve been feeling gloomy, stir-crazy, or otherwise glum, remember to keep taking your vitamin D and keep your chin up, cause spring is so close we can almost taste it. 🌸 ~love, laue