#i love you all and your patience with my nonsense means the world to me 🥺🥰💚

[themechaneer]

🔧

[jinkiezzsstuff]

ELLO GOVNA, I hope you're doing wonderful.💘💘I have just a short request

Established relationship Alastor x fem reader who likes to wear lingerie to bed. Or just because she finds herself pretty in it, with literally zero intent to seduce Alastor, she just loves to wear em..(and she'll go all out when it comes to it, even wearing the long sheer robe that has the faux fur) Could be smut or fluff I don't mind…maybe even both 👀

I just simply adore your writing, so I had to request this.🫶

zuddeeee i’m so sorry for getting this to you so late! i loved this so much but struggled writing it for some reason! i hope this is good and that you enjoy it thank you so much for the request, praise and your patience it means the world to me 😭

warnings: SMUT 18+ yall, fem reader no pronouns used aside from ‘you’, alastor isn’t completely sex averse but there’s areas of discomfort mentioned, alastors magic used, reader tops not in a dominating sense but literally on top, alastors antlersss, kinda short smut part maybe? hmmm what else, not proof read because i was so anxious to get this out lmk if you see mistakes! swearing, hmmm that’s it i think

word count: 2.6k

Alastor made the rare decision to actually go to bed with you tonight. It wasn’t like Alastor didn’t want to sleep in bed with you no, that wasn’t the case at all. More so, he wae just so busy, not to mention he could never find himself fully asleep, the deer aspect of himself left him jumping awake at any tiny sound his sensitive ears could pick up. That would be too cruel to you, keeping you up with his pitiful nonsense.

However you insisted he slept with you tonight, for some reason you’d been more clingy then usual, perhaps it was just that stage in the relationship, or perhaps he’d been away too long without notice? Whatever the case mattered not to him, he just knew you were clingy and he’d be a monster to deny you of his affections. Tying his red bathrobe closed, Alastor kicked off his deer slippers and sat back in bed with a book. Despite being in bed, his suit was still on beneath his bathrobe, feeling still hesitant to let himself get fully comfortable.

Smooth jazz hummed from Alastor filled the room as he waited for you to join him. He wasn’t privy to your nightly habits, so he had no idea how long you’d take before you returned. Alastor thought it was rude and intrusive to stick his nose into what a lady did before bed, no matter how long your relationship had lasted he wanted you to be able to have your privacy within life. I curling your nightly rituals within the bath and bed room.

Light spilt out from the brightly lit bathroom, lighting up the dim room. Alastors head turned towards the noise of the door and light on the floor, eyes widening at the sight before him. You began walking toward the bed, a long silky robe flowing with every step you took, through peaks and openings Alastor saw your skin, and where he didn’t see skin he saw deep burgundy lace.

His tail made movements beneath him as he watch you drop the robe, slipping down your figure and onto the floor just by your side of the bed. You faced his eyes with your body clad in luxurious looking lingerie, something he’d only ever seen in hell on skimps; never yourself. “My dear, what’s this?” His tone was teasing as you slipped underneath the cover, sitting up against the headboard with him. “What do you mean hun?” Alastor raised his eyebrows at you, surprised by then genuine confusion in your tone and eyes.

“Ahhh I see my dear! Subtly indicating it’s time for some good ol’ barney mugging!” Alastor chortled out tilting his head along with his laughter. You didn’t hide the confusion on your face at his words, rarely did Alastor catch you off guard with his weird old timey speech, but this one had you puzzled. “Good old what now?” Alastors tendrils came of from beside you and tugged you into his side, nestling you underneath his arm, and pressing you to his chest. “Mischievous little you, always making me say thee uncomfortable terms; sex. You dressed up so desirably, and wanted to stay tonight because you wanted attention.” Alastor whispered softly down to you, as you twisted your head up from your awkward position to meet his gaze.

Smiling softly, you pat his chest softly giving in, and coiling around him as if he were your teddy bear. “Al, I didn’t dress up to try and get sex out of you, I genuinely just wanted to have you next to me tonight! I always dress like this for bed, you’d know if you came to bed more.” You lightly jab, still smiling sweetly at the deer above you. His eyes flickered with varying emotions that you couldn’t quite pick up on, although his smile never faltered remaining the same throughout. “I didn’t think anybody wore those types of garments to sleep.” Alastor admitted slumping further down on the headboard of the bed, he didn’t feel ashamed of jumping to conclusions on the type of outfit you doted, however he was still racking his brain on the fact you just wanted him here; why?

“You should really change too Al, these ain’t comfy.” You muttered nuzzling yourself into his neck, the tips of his hair tickling your face, and his pesky suit collar getting in the way. “Darling i’m the radio demon, demons don’t undress.” Humming absentmindedly in response, your hand danced down his chest, caressing the large quantity of fabric that seperated your hand from his chest. Reaching the belt in his robe, you were easily able to untie it, and your hands made there way back up to unbutton every button your fingers touched. Alastors static flickered with warning, but you knew he’d never hurt you like that, so to you it was no more threatening that a disapproving look.

Although he didn’t like the idea of being in a vulnerable position where anybody could catch him lacking, he allowed you to undo the buttons in his top slowly, even helping you at times when you couldn’t get one undone. “i know you’re uncomfortable at times, but you don’t have to be naked, just more relaxed.” You say as his white button up was finally opened, leaning back from your position you tugged at the robe indicating you wanted it off. Following in suit, Alastor sat up with a flat hum falling out of him, you wasted no time pulling off the robe, jacket and button down shirt all at once, before chucking it off onto the floor.

“I love your flesh, y’know that?” You coo, running your hand over every scar and decorated line that scattered across his body. You flopped back on the bed with a smile, Alastor slowly lowering himself beside you right after. “For a sinner who isn’t a cannibal my dear, that was awfully cannibalistic of you.” You grinned at him, scooting up beside him and repositioning yourself under his chin. “What can I say, you’re rubbing off on me.” Alastors hand came down the back of your head and trailed down your back, toying with the lace and band of your brassiere. “I still think you should take off your suit pants, by the way.” You muttered eyes blinking slowly, feeling exhaustion wash over your body in waves, there was something about being settled down neck to Alastor that made you feel sleepier than before.

“Hmm, s’pose I could indulge you this once.” Alastor grumbled succumbing to your wishes, with one hand he unbuttoned his slacks and unzipped his zipper, then with the help of his tentacles he pulled his pants off and tossed them aside. Your leg immediately came up to wrap around his torso, feeling his warm flesh beneath your thigh and calf was enough to make you slightly throb, which made you feel a bit guilty; after all you said you weren’t seducing him. Thankfully as your leg rested underneath his bellybutton on his pelvis, you felt shivers run through him, which he tried and failed to play off as a yawn.

Guess you weren’t the only one thinking naughty tonight. “Would you…” You trail quietly wondering if you should ruin the soft moment between you two. You heard a staticky hum sound from Alastor, almost like a rattle, and decided to simply go for it. “Would you like it if I was trying to seduce you? Would you wanna lil barney- whatever.” You breath out a laugh at the silly term. Alastor hummed thoughtfully, his claw tracing up your back with slow purpose. Alastor didn’t feel as though he knew how to answer, yes he did enjoy the indulging act every now and again with you, however it could be tedious at times.

“Can i ride you?” You blurt out sitting up. Alastors ears flickered rapidly as his eyes widened, his smile barely faltered but everything you needed to know was in his eyes and ears. Smiling coyly, you bring your own clawed hand up to caress his face. “Do your cheeks get tired from all the smiling?” You asked slowly and gently shifting your hips on top of his own, setting yourself down on top of him, lent forward toward his face. “Painfully so,” Alastor whispered his static gone as he watched through lidded eyes you grind your body against his own slowly. “I bet you’re so tired all the time honey, you need to be taken care of.” You cooed pecking his chest, below you cold feel the swell in his boxers, the lights in the room also began to act up.

“Absolutely done in my dear,” Alastor responded lowly his hands coming up carefully to your hips. “Do you intend to help me?” You nodded with a smile, and dropped your core down onto his aching bulge. With a hiss Alastor gripped your hips, nails cutting into you as you carefully grind your clothed core against him. Anticipation bubbled within you and you held back the strong urge to quicken your speed and ravage him fully, but you knew how Alastor felt and didn’t want to secretly overwhelm him in an uncomfortable way.

Lifting your hips, Alastor tried to yank you back down to him with a static growl coming from him. You tsked at him, fighting against his strength and reaching below your bodies to carefully release him from his briefs. “Don’t fight me Alastor, I'm just trying to help.” You grinned pulling the pricey pair of panties aside, revealing the glisenting of your heat. Alastor watched eyes wide as you slid slowly against his length, folds encasing his cock and covering him with your arousal. Alastors hands came down to grip the sheets, hoisting himself up slightly with his elbows to watch your sinful display.

You watched the gears turn in Alastors head, it was obvious to you how hard he was struggling to let you maintain the control. His ears were drooped down to the sides of his head, his smile lessened and struggling to stay high as you teased him. You set you body down fully feeling the head of him poke at your sensitive clit, making you jolt your mouth falling open into a silent moan. Alastor hissed like a snake, air escaping through his clenched teeth as you dragged your hips back and forth against him slowly.

Alastor was always in control when you two had sex, it was the only way he’d have it typically, let him maintain his image and aesthetics of control, being subservient just didn’t suit him. God forbid anybody walk in to see the state he was in. Alastor tensed at the thought, head craning towards the unlocked door, his eyes widening. He didn’t like feeling anxiety but he did feel it now, and he feels it anytime he’s put in these positions he hated it. The sensation in his stomach made him want to pull his hair out, the feeling of fear making him feel insane. How could someone like him feel these stupid emotions?

“Hey,” You whispered, halting your movements, and slowly resting your hand on his cheek. You noticed his demeanour suddenly shift as he began eyeing the door, your gaze followed but it was lacklustre as there was nothing there. “Al, we can stop if you’d like?” Alastors hair was puffed like a cat and his ears were pinched back instead of their previous position relaxed at the sides. “We’re just so terribly exposed my dear,” Alastor muttered glaring at the door. “May I… alter, our surroundings?” You watched him trail decisively, trying to remain indifferent on the outside when clearly he was squirmy. “Sure thing hun, do as you need.”

Smiling you watched as his demeanour shifted from on edge to confident, the hair on his head once puffed now relaxed. Smooth jazz filled the surroundings, reverberating off the walls and around the room, then your jaw dropped slightly as you watched Alastors magic to encase you safely in the wispy dome he conjured around the bed. Your eyes casted down at him, eyebrow quirked with disbelief, he only grinned cheekily up at you, arms finding their way to rest behind his head. “Ahh safe and sound my dear, where no sneaky prying eyes could see your beauty, and my fragility.” A soft laugh track played out at his exclamation, and unknowing admission of his feelings.

Angling your hips forward and down you reviled in the feeling of him twitching needily against you. “I suppose you are right, I admit Vox makes me paranoid.” Alastors static crackled madly at the mention, normally he didn’t let himself get away with showing this type of anger towards such a lowlife, but the admission that Vox put you on edge? That pissed him off. “Relax Al, i know you can take of me if I need it.” You assure petting his hair affectionately, which he typically didn’t enjoy but for the moment he allowed it.

His grin was calm as he found his zen again, relaxing into the mattress and the feeling of you squirming above him. With a hum Alastor pulled his hands out from behind him and snaked them beneath you two, grasping his dark grey member that was covered in your slick arousal. “I think it’s enough teasing dear, it’s beginning to become ever so painful.” He teased with a coy tone in his voice, you whined as he prodded your entrance slipping in the head of his cock with ease. You heard a echoed hiss of feedback play out of the static as he slid deeper into you, your back arching as you felt yourself sink down fully. “Oh shit Al, i know I'm gonna cum fast.” You whined, already rocking yourself against him. Alastor was as stiff as a board, his hands reactively flying back to your hips digging his nails into them, as he strained against the animalistic urges to ram into you like the wild animal he was.

His antlers grew large, spanning across the length of the bed as you began to ride him, his knees coming up giving you something to grab onto. All that could be heard, was the distracting jazz, and the echoing skin slapping that reverberated through the bubble. Alastors nostrils flare at the smell of you encasing him, he tried to hide the whines he made by swallowing but it was no luck once you began to clamp down on him. Crying out loudly you fell forward hands on each side of him as you crazily fucked yourself on him, selfishly chasing your own orgasm. Although Alastor didn’t mind, he felt himself holding on to the edge of his climax as he watched your face contort and listened to your pleas for him. A ballistic growl ripped out of Alastors chest as he came, giving into the desire to be disgustingly horny; he encased your hips with his arms, moaning your name into your ear as he thrusted into your body vigorously.

You gripped his antlers as he did so, feeling your clit bump against his pubic hair and flesh, you could feel yourself getting so close but this one was dragging out. You begged Alastor not to stop as you throbbed and clenched, and when you did Alastor pulled his head back to meet your lips. His tongue sliding into your mouth, warm lips against your own and clashing teeth was enough to make you come. Your body convulsed against his, whining and crying into his mouth as you made a mess of him and your bed. After a moment where you both rode out your high, you finally detached from the lips, your body’s simultaneously falling back, his against the bed and your body against his. Alastors magic collapsed around you, the shield once encasing you gone, the jazz that once carried through the crackled off moments ago. The two of you panted, wordlessly recouping. “I think i’ll sleep with you more often dear, i have to admit, that was quite the sleeping aid.”

[lady-lauren]

Apotheosis

↬ Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader

↬ Rating: Explicit, 18+ Only

↬ Word Count: 2.3k

↬ Warnings/Tags: breeding, talk of pregnancy, dacryphilia/tears, possessive actions, power dynamic/age gap, cum eating, excessive cum/creampie

↬ A/N: It’s been a while since I showed love to my favorite man 💕 Apotheosis: the highest point in the development of something; culmination or climax.

Tears are expected in Erwin’s world. Fat, emotional tears upon the loss of a comrade, tears of frustration at the end of a failed mission, cries of agony of a population ravaged by fear and unrest. 

But he could drown in your tears, feast on them like waters from the heavens. You’re pretty when you cry, delicate and overwhelmed, all from him and him alone. His actions, his words, his pleasure and pain.

“Take it, darling, all of it.” 

You’re barely undressed, tits spilling from the torn buttons of your uniform, leather straps of your gear pressing into the fat of your thighs as the fabric of your pants struggles at the spread of your legs. 

“C-Commander, I, please, I—” nonsense, it’s all nonsense as he flattens you against his desk, cockhead spearing through the unprepared, yet dripping folds of your cunt. 

It’s been weeks since he’s seen you. He has no patience left to spare. 

Erwin breaches the first ring of muscle into your depths, hissing through his teeth as he feels your pussy suck around him. 

He can’t even remember if he locked the door to his office before he pounced on you, his favorite little cadet. 

“Good girl,” he coos, thumbs smoothing over your ass as he bullies his way inside of you. You choke below him, sucking in air at the intrusion. 

It’s all too much, the burning spread of your cunt and the way he presses your aching breasts against the crumpled papers, fingertips mean and eager against your hips. But he adores when you get overwhelmed, gasping like you haven’t taken his cock countless times before. 

“I’ve been thinking of you,” he grunts as he bottoms out inside of you, your ass slapping against his pelvic bone, belly quivering as his cockhead brushes against the most sensitive parts of you. “I’m going to cum inside of you, darling, fill you to the fucking brim with me.” 

“Oh god,” you whine, wiggling against his hold as you come to terms with the full stretch of his length. His veins are throbbing inside of you, pulsing against your walls. He doesn’t give you the time you deserve to adjust, instead using your flesh like a toy and bouncing you back and forth on his cock. 

“I–we–I-I can’t have…we shouldn’t…” you moan and writhe below him, asschecks bouncing with every sharp thrust. 

The vision of you pledging your oath to the nation, to him, is crisp in his memory. Your fist over your chest, eyes gazing up at him from the second row of fresh cadets. He’d noticed your faith then, felt drawn to you like a moth racing toward a funeral pyre. 

He’s let himself be consumed by your dark flames, let dreams of you belonging to him, only to him, fill waking thoughts. 

“You don’t want my babies, darling? Is that it?” 

The sound that drips from your throat is sinful, longing, like his words have speared through your heart and ripped tender emotions. 

A heavy hand runs the length of your spine, stopping at the base of your neck to press you down harder, keeping you trapped below his strength. 

“Y-yes, Erwin, I–fuck, but we can’t,” your tone lingers on your opposing declaration, brave but lost. You mean it, but you don’t. 

Leaning forward, Erwin drops his lips to your ear, slowing his pace to a grind into your cunt. 

“Your pussy is desperate for me, I can feel it—you want to milk my cock, want me to fill your insides with my cum.” 

Your nails scrape at the wood in his desk, leaving lines in their wake. Your bodies are heady, sweat bleeding into cotton and leather straps catching against the press of his thighs to yours. 

“Let me tell you what I think about, darling,” he whispers wickedly, hand slipping between the press of your stomach into the edge of his desk. He is brutal with the remainder of your shirt, ripping threads and snapping buttons as he claws his way to your skin. 

“I think of you ripe with my child, my seed growing inside of this strong, perfect body. I imagine you glowing, flushed with hormones and proud at the mention that your child is mine. That I came in your body, took you, bred you.” 

Perhaps he’s being purposely crass—he wants a reaction from you, wants to feel your emotions bubble over and spill at his feet.

“Oh fuck,” you squeak below him as he continues to press into you, his cock hot and angry, his weight heavy upon your back. “I want that, god fuck I want your babies, b-but it’s so…” your thoughts trail away as the mental image becomes too much to handle—you, pregnant and showing, growing the Commander’s child in your womb. 

Erwin relents, pulling his aching cock from your cunt. He smooths his hands over your body, warm and affectionate, coddling you as he repositions to have you face him. 

“It’s too much…” your voice is soft, eyes blinking away the treacherous emotions that have settled into your psyche. 

“Look at me.” 

He says your first name as he pets your cheek, the taste of the syllables like sin on his tongue. 

“I want you,” he asserts, latching his lips to yours to prove his point, “more than you'll ever know, darling. You’re mine. You always have been.” 

He plucked you away from the Military Police the moment he laid eyes on you; requested a direct transfer to have you working below him, for him. Then he got inside of you, felt every raw desire and built an unwavering trust. Every time he’s fucked you, he’s been discreet, kept you away from prying eyes. Now he wants all eyes on you, on him, on how he’s taken you. 

Gently, he peels the tatters of your shirt from your breasts, placing hot, long licks along your nipples. You buck against him, brave hands tangling in his hair and pulling at the roots.

Taking his time with you almost feels foreign. Every fuck has been to satisfy the obession inside of him, a whirlwind of potent feelings and lust. Claiming you in the dark, a palm over your mouth, his fingers on your tongue and in your cunt.

Now he kneels before you, experienced hands unbuckling the worn scout leathers from your thighs, kissing at the grooves left behind in your tender skin. 

You awaken the most primal of needs inside of him—to have, to claim, to breed. 

The lines of his roman nose disappear between your legs, skimming along the folds of your pussy as he licks along your slit. 

“Erwin, please…” Naked, you sigh with the utmost content, head tilting back as you fall prey to all the emotions swirling in your gut.

“Please what, darling? Use your words, tell me what you want.” 

Gazing from between your thighs on his cheekbones, your slick on his tongue, his cock throbs against his pants as he watches the faintest of tears pool on the apples of your cheeks. 

He loves ruining you, overloading you with so much passion that it becomes visible. 

“Breed me. I want to feel you cum inside of me.” 

“Are you sure you’re prepared for this?” He rises to loom over you, tugging your body against his, his clothes sticking to your soft, dewy skin. “I will fill you until you can take no more, fuck you as many times as it takes to breed you properly.” 

Pupils dilated and dark, you nood, fisting your fingers around the leather strap that clings to his pectorals. 

“Please…make me yours, all yours.” 

Erwin slots between your plush thighs, golden hair falling against his brow as he shoves his cock back into your depths, groaning at the feel of you spreading for him. 

His size is to his advantage as he consumes you, bucking hips and bouncing you along his shaft. The boldness inside of you is growing, he can feel it in the way you move against him—hungry, greedy, eager to take everything he can give. 

A hand grips meanly into your thigh, while the other traces up your back, coming to rest on your jaw, keeping your gaze smoldering into his. He moves ruthlessly inside you, hips snapping against yours with every sharp, deep thrust. Little sounds leave your lips with every plunge, blissful tingles stemming from where your bodies were conjoined. He adores how he can feel the head of his fat cock dragging along your tight walls, thick veins throbbing under silken skin.

A coil of pleasure begins to tighten within his lower stomach, boiling in his balls, hot and mean, like it is ready to tear and erupt with a rush of ecstasy. You moan his name like a prayer, eyes closed tightly as you focus on the intensity of his cock thrusting inside you.

“Everyone will know,” he murmurs against your wet lips, stealing your breath, “your babies will look just like me.” 

He knows how to play you, circling your clit so perfectly with his thumb that you’re already shaking. Your lower belly clenches, all the euphoria rushing to your head and making you feel drunk.

 “God you get so fucking tight,” Erwin grunts at the feel, starting the kind of brutal pace that told you he was already aiming for the finish line, ready to fill you up and watch you drip just so he could do it all over again. 

Everything is burning, like a warm, wet glow between your legs, filled to the brim with him. You gasp and moan, little sounds you just can’t help, too overwhelmed. He stretches you so wide that you feel breathless, tears leaking down from the corners of your eyes. 

“Good girl, let it all out. I’ll take care of you, promise.”

“G-gonna cum, Erwin, fuck…”

“Me too.”

His hips still for a moment so you can both feel the way his cock pulses, forcing his seed deep into your womb. The heat breaks you along with his thumb on your clit, making you cry into his chest as you fall over the edge. Your pussy is a milking compression around him, squeezing every last drop of his cum. There’s too much to keep in, hot seed dribbles out over your pussy and around his cock to paint the inside of your thighs and make a mess against his desk. 

But he doesn’t stop. 

His cock is still hard and twitching inside of you, fat and heavy as he starts to push back deeper into you. Your head dips forward against his shoulder, one of his hands holding your neck while the other splays across your belly before moving lower. Two fingers slide along the folds of your cunt, spreading around his intrusive cock so he can feel his leaking cum. 

“Feels so good,” you mumble, “your cum feels so fucking good.” 

Erwin groans, lifting his messy fingers to your agape mouth. You take them in without question, sucking at the taste of cum and slick pooling against your tongue. He keeps your mouth stuffed with the digits, allowing you to scream around them as he picks up his pace.

He’s a man determined, sight sets on a goal. He promised to breed you, and he will. No matter how many batches of cum it takes for his seed to take hold. 

The squish of his cum spurting with every thrust is mesmerizing, breathtaking, and he can’t help but marvel at the sight of his pretty little girl taking in his cum. You’re a mess, streaked with tears and cum, spit dripping down your chin as you choke around his cum stained fingers.

Erwin removes his fingers from between your lips, angling you back so he can watch your tits bounce with every plunge of his cock. Brushing wet knuckles over your breast, he tugs on your nipple until you mewl. 

“C-Commander,” he’ll never tire of hearing his title in your mouth, “I want more.” 

“More what, darling? Tell me.” 

“More cum, god, fuck I want to drown in it.” 

In the back of his mind, Erwin is distinctly aware of sounds outside of his office door, shuffling feet and whispers. But nothing could stop him, not even God Himself could bust into the room and remove Erwin from you. He has you where he’s always wanted you—panting, weeping, begging for him to breed you, to keep you. 

He tugs you against him, using you like a little cocksleeve made to suck his cock dry. 

“One more,” he groans, “give me one more, darling. Let me feel you cum for me.”

You nod like you have any choice, pulling your thighs up farther so you can lay flat against his desk and take his onslaught. 

Long fingers circle back to your puffy clit, rolling the tender bud until you can no longer keep quiet. The feel of you is electric, spiraling, pussy spasming against him, slick gushing with every crest of pleasure that comes over your body. Your climax has you splitting apart, and also sucking him in so deeply that he can't help but to pour his load into you.

Erwin finally pulls his still throbbing cock from your cunt. You are ruined, the tightening of your belly in the aftershocks of your orgasm making cum continuously bubble out of your hole, drooling onto the edge of the desk and into his floor.

“You look so perfect covered in my cum.”

Erwin’s fingers are quickly back between your legs, making you whine as his fingertips glide over your swollen clit. He trails his fingers down your thighs, gathering what cum is still traveling down your legs. He pushes the lost cum back inside of you, making your back arch at the oversensitive feeling. Over and over again, he repeats the motion, taking his time to gather every viscous droplet and push it back into your quivering cunt.

“I expect you to meet me in my room tonight, understood?” 

“Of course, sir.” 

[takotakigum]

star — itoshi sae.

characters: itoshi sae × gn!reader

warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationships, heavy codependency, burnt out sae, word vomit, sae is an idiot that’s too in love, and sae who’s emotions are all over the place.

word count: 2.3k

synopsis: the world itoshi sae once envisioned is so hazy, barely non-existent anymore. and it’s all because of you.

note: the nicknames/callsigns "mi amor" and "mi vida" mean "my love" and "my life".

aged up characters | please read at your own risk!

my singular interest is becoming the best in the world—is something itoshi sae remembers saying to someone with much conviction.

oh, how he lies.

sae reminds himself to never let his mouth speak such nonsense driven by his now crippling ego. sae wants to go back in time, tell that stupid interviewer that he doesn’t care about being the best in the world if it means being the only one in your universe.

itoshi sae fell in love, to put it simply.

his singular interest is you. it doesn’t matter when, where, or what happens—it’s only you, the one and only other piece of his dull soul. when sae loves you, he feels it overwhelmingly all over him, too. he feels his body tingle with tenderness, he hears his breath shudder when talking to you, and so much more. at first, it was weird. although after a long run? it became addictive.

he longs for you in every way, even if you’re already his. sae doesn’t quite understand why, but he also feels like it also doesn’t matter; because he deeply misses your soft giggles that warm his neck when you’re too close to him, he misses your scent—fuck, he misses everything about you. so, naturally, sae feels like his heart is being ripped apart with every flight he has to take back to spain. during many occasions, sae almost begged you to go to him: interlocking your hands together until he reaches the entrance of the airport, not bothering to let go until you have to pry yourself away from him; and even staring sadly into your eyes with the faintest pout on his lips.

perhaps—no, sae is fairly certain about this—being away from you is one of the most agonizing things he has to experience in this life of his. sae wishes to curse his soccer team, his manager, or even anyone who arranged such a game far from home. or rather, far from you.

you’re so far away; he’s in his lukewarm apartment in spain, while you’re in your homey abode in japan. it sucks in his bedroom here. it’s awful, boring, and you-less. his bedsheets are soft, sure, but nothing will compare to the feeling of hugging your waist and burying his face into your soft skin. he takes a deep breath—it could be that he’s merely dreaming this boring setting, when you’re really lulling him to sleep—that’s why he’s stuck in it, yeah. yeah no…fuck, again, sae misses you far more than his patience could handle.

tiredly finding his phone on his mattress, his hands find its way to your contact in an instant, and he calls you. timezones be damned, because sae can’t take it anymore.

“shit,” sae feels his lips twitch, wanting to let an amused breath be heard by you over the phone. “uhh…hello?” it seems that only now do you think you’ve picked up the phone, voice dry of sleep.

“i love you.”

“huh?”

“i also miss you.”

“sae?”

“hi,” sae’s voice is muffled by his pillow, his face burning up as it still hasn’t adapted with his slippery tongue pouring affection onto you. “what’s wrong? it’s…uhm, 4am here, you know?” your voice is much clearer now, and it’s accompanied by a loose giggle into the phone’s speaker. sae knows you have an answer to your own question, he’s that obvious. “mn. sorry. i-” sae’s heart beats louder and faster when he hears your giggle once more become a tune to his ears. “love me? miss me?” you complete his thoughts, and sae holds onto every second of it. he hums quietly, nodding guiltily even if you couldn’t see it. “‘s okay calling me, sae. but i’m a bit sad right now.” your voice acts, and sae practically sits up his bed, phone pushing harder onto his ear to hear what’s happening.

“did something-”

“mhm, i was dreaming about you, and then…you woke me up.” you groan rather loudly, however, easing some weight on sae’s shoulders. “sorry for that too, mi amor.” he apologizes like he’s committed a sin; although deep in his heart that’s all for you, it probably is considered a crime. “fine. but do know that it’s suuper unfortunate.” sae’s heavy sigh of relief widens the smile on your face. god, the tension of amusement on your end is enough to be felt by sae—who knows what sae would do to see you with that pure smile right now.

“is it really unfortunate now? was the itoshi sae in your dream better than me? your real boyfriend, speaking to you right now?” instinctively, sae pouts as his eyebrows twitch to furrow, hoping for the answer his childish self wants. “hmm,” sae’s jaw slackens in disbelief, did you really have to think about it? his pout worsens, he can’t believe you had it in you to tease him when you’re probably half asleep, although, he may or may not really mind. “i like the sae in my dream better, maybe.” sae now scoffs, rolling his eyes pathetically. “mi vida, why are you like this?” sae questions, but that doesn’t particularly matter. at least, not when despite anything your personality gives him, he’ll accept.

“aren’t you curious, though?” you continue to tease.

“hmph. of course i am.” and sae’s adoration for you continues to indulge.

“remember when you took me on our first date?” your voice goes softer now, fond of the memory and storytelling. “do you think i’d forget?” how could he, though? how could sae forget how he regretted planning such a boring date—all because he didn’t think he’d fall into such a deep trench to love you? “c’mon, don’t be so down now, sae. it’s a good dream, promise.” it’s most likely, because as you’re thinking of the words to say, sae hears your covered yawns consecutively.

“felt like i relived our first date, you know? really nostalgic. we were walking out of the convenience store late november with a bag filled with your favorite popsicles.” your dream is spot on already. sae’s heart beats a little faster again. “then, we went to your favorite spot by the sea. it was extra cold, too. but we still ate the popsicles.” you laugh, warming sae’s thoughts as he reminisces about the chilly winds of the evening that you dared not complain about. instead, sharing countless of frozen popsicles sae still feels numbing his tongue with the kindest, most precious smile he’s ever seen.

“yeah, i remember that. why’s the sae in your dream better, then?” you’re a bit silent, as if unsure of what to explain.

“mi amor?” you only hum, still thinking about it, it seems.

sae gulps slowly—anxiously. because sometimes, itoshi sae wonders deep in his complex emotions that he’s weary of.

“mhmm, i’m still here.”

sometimes, itoshi sae wonders why out of all the people that could’ve and should’ve treat you better, you decide he’s the one.

“it’s just that, i guess i missed having you around right beside me? ah, but i think i’m just speaking nonsense, it’s almost past four thirty.” you don’t spout such things as nonsense, anything you have to speak about, sae withholds with utmost seriousness.

right now, itoshi sae is at that spiral of sudden insecurity.

“you- i’ll go home as soon as i can.” sae mutters, voice wavering as a part of him is scared. of what? losing you? a bit childish, still. he knows you’ll understand, everything and anything he’ll go through. it’s why he fell in love so deeply in the first place. you’re the first person to give him back the amount of love he never knew he was even capable of. don’t leave now: his heart whispers.

“sae, wait,” he can’t hear you, at least, not when his senses are fully enveloped in the listing of available flights back to japan as soon as possible—at 2am in spain in a bit looks promising enough for him.

“sae, listen to me first? you’re not going back here yet, you still have a game next week.” you remind him, but sae doesn’t care. “that doesn’t matter, current team i’m with is pretty shit. anyway, i miss you a lot, too. so it’s alright.” sae feels his stubbornness root from his core and out all across his body, and he feels guilty.

“itoshi sae.” just before sae could click his booking of the plane ticket, your stern voice halts his actions. a thin coat of sweat heats his palms as he fidgets with one finger. “mad?” he asks, throat clenched. “no, not at all. just, let’s talk, okay? promise me you’ll listen.” sae hears movement from your line, you’re probably beyond serious right now, sitting up on your bed, back resting on your headboard as your eyes look at the ceiling. “…sure.” it’s a promise.

“you know why you’re in spain, right? to pursue your dream—your passion, sae.” he wants to shake his head and deny everything, he wants to tell you to not continue any longer, because eventually, sae wouldn’t even know what to answer. “and i’m here back home, because i also have my dreams here. you understand that, don’t you? you miss me, and i miss you—that’s so normal, because i love you and you love me back, right? you’ll come home when you can, but not now,” why? is something sae wants to ask. “not now when your goal is right in front of you.” no—you’re not right on that one. “you don’t have to forfeit anything related to your dreams for me, you know that. i’ve told you that, yet you’re still as stubborn as ever, huh?” you let out a breath, your voice is neutral yet still heavy of sleep in hopes to reach him.

sae isn’t giving anything up, truly, he is not. his career from soccer has already gone shit, anyways. ever since he’s given up being the worlds best striker, he’s felt empty; trying to compensate with his new, still shitty, ambition of being the best midfielder there is. realistically, sae can’t give anything great up when everything is already lukewarm in his life.

however, in this life of his with only you matters; when the circumstance is him defying you as his sole dream—then, he has nothing to lose.

“i would quit football for you.” sae whispers, shocking not only you, but himself at the bluntness.

“you wouldn’t.” sae knows he shouldn’t, because you wouldn’t like that.

“i would, if you wanted me to.” rationally, he’s an idiot to say such things. because all his life, itoshi sae has been so inhospitable, never understanding certain lengths people would go through for another. all his life, he’s never felt like this. the version of himself three years ago—the him who stated that he has no other interest aside from being the best in the world—would curse him off, never to accept this current state of his. even though sae knows how to act, he throws out all that rationality when it’s you he’s thinking of.

to quit soccer for you? he would fucking do.

but is it for his own selfishness? he doesn’t know.

“i don’t want you to.” he knows. your voice a tad bit disappointed at him, and he’s a tad bit disappointed at the answer. “you can’t just throw everything out for me, sae. i wouldn’t like that.” reluctantly, sae closes the tab for booking flights with your low voice looming over him. “why? would you rather me be in spain for who knows how long?” sae tries to humor, although his voice falls far too seriously once more.

“i’d rather have you here with me. but…” sae’s breath hitches, clutching on his phone harder, eyes moving too much.

“but?” please, his heart begs, be something he’ll want to hear. tell him to go back to japan, tell him to leave everything behind in spain. please, his heart begs again. again. and again.

“hm, not if it means you giving up something you’ve worked hard for in the very beginning. that would be a waste, no?” fuck—how many times will his mentality scream at him? it’s not a waste. nothing is a waste for you. if him abandoning his career means being with you for as long as you allow him to, then it’s okay. if you being with him means he certainly has something to love and hold up to, then it’s beyond okay.

“mi vida, i-” sae lets out a shaky breath, he doesn’t know anymore. the corners of his eyes burn, and it starts to warn him of tears. “mi amor, what’s really wrong?” you answer back, voice so clear it makes him look to his side to see if you’re possibly with him in spain. now, he thinks you’ve pierced through a barrier sae never realized has been built. it crumbles, almost instantly, too, and sae confesses the first thing eating at the back of his mind: “i miss you so much. i want to go back, it’s so lonely here.” because you’re not here, is what sae wishes to express further.

“are you tired?” now, sae understands a part of him better. through the years of dating, he’s subconsciously relied on you for anything and everything. what matters to you is his guide on what should also matter to him.

itoshi sae, now understands that your love and care for him is one of the sole basis of his composure.

“very much.” his voice is so fragile, and sae hates how he’s aware you’re aching for not being there to physically comfort him and his collapsing mental figure.

he’s desperate, so please, do something about it. his body pleads entirely now, tears frantically pouring down his face with nothing to solace it. you hear him sniffle, hiccup—everything. you hear it. you wish you understood the underlying need of his, but he wouldn’t blame you if it were a bit later, as well. because sae only now discovers just how far the roots of his distress reaches.

“i see. then, come home, mi amor. i’ll be here waiting for you.”

© takotakigum | do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works.

[thatdeadaquarius]

"Oh my gosh do you sound like a sim to them??"

Me trying to place myself in their shoes:

"Why the fuck do I sound like a villager in Animal Crossing-- ARE THEY HEARING ANIMALESE WHEN I SPEAK?!"

(A.k.a I saw the previous ask and thought wait a minute. Two different worlds. Languages so similar but so different....... We're basically speaking animalese in another game/world lmfao)

(Bonus: Creator!Reader knows this and takes full advantage as their payback. Traveller magically understands and speaks back causing further pyschic confusion. Pretty sure soke brains have been melted among linguistic students in Sumeru)

-Vine Boom

VINE BOOM MY BELOVED IM SO LATE TO ATTEND TO YOU!! :'(

It has been a minute and yet, you remain my love!! Thank you for your patience, have a little scenario as my thanks for that and submitting the cool idea <3

Me @ you: ♥ ( ॢᵕ n ᵕ (꒡ᵋ ꒡ღ) mwah! /p

this gif is just really cute thats why its here.

also i have very little to add so its short but only bc im ✨uncreative✨ atm and ur ask alone is funny enough lmao, so once again, a scenario bc vine booms just a genius all on their own ✨️

◇

😭so you mean 😭 as revenge 😭 for this awful deed 😭 done to your speech 😭 you just start EMBRACING IT 😭😭😭PLEAASEEE-

PLEASE the traveler understands it!! 💀

Also if anyone reads this im so sorry ive flooded the sagau tag with language shenanigans LMAO

◇

Ever since you realized that the entirety of Teyvat sounds like Sims to you, (and the subsequent awful reckoning that you sound the same to them 😭) 

You have finally mentally recovered enough courage, and desperately shoved any embarrassment deep into your soul, to try and think of what to do about it

♤

You quickly found that people had 3 types of reactions to your speech,

 

1. They try to understand the nonsense like you trying to understand their Simlish, it really doesnt work, you wish you could tell them to give up and just gesture at you instead:

(ALHAITHAM he keeps trying then giving up then trying again lol, Diluc, ZHONGLI, Sara, Albedo, Candace, Dehya she thinks she’s gonna get it THIS time she swears-, Eula, Gorou, GANYU she feels bad lmao, Jean, AYAKA, keqing, kuki, Nahida, ningguang, AETHER, Thoma, xinyan, XIAO)

◇

2. They act like you when you hear animal crossing characters speak 💀 you can see the “omg so cute” sparkle in their eyes:

(KAZUHA, kokomi, barbara, KAEYA, ZHONGLI again lol he tries to hide it but you can see the tiny smile everytime you walk over and start ranting at him bc ur bored, Faruzan, GOROU, AYATO, YAE MIKO, keqing, LISA, mika, mona, KLEE literally loves you and you can tell shes always trying to get you to say something lol, Ei (archon), Rosaria she always SMIRKS and ur just- 😳, CHILDE the little shit giggles at ur misery, LUMINE AND AETHER U CANT TRUST EITHER OF THEM- , THOMA, SCARAMOUCHE BUT HE’D NEVER ADMIT IT BUT HE ALWAYS IS OBVIOUSLY TRYING TO HIDE A TINY SMILE AND GOES A LITTLE PINK-!! SAME FOR XIAO LMAO)

◇

3. You know that tiktok audio thats like Isabella from Animal Crossing singing, and then someone’s like “uh-huh! YEAH! OKAY!!” yeah like that, but to you LMAO

(ITTO, Bennett, KAVEH, heizou, VENTI, Nilou she like nods after everything you say and makes sure you’re treated well in every conversation aw, qiqi, KLEE, Raiden (puppet) + Ei (archon), SHENHE no explanation needed, CYNO too, LUMINE, YELAN, yoimiya, yunjin)

♧

Alright i got tired sorry not everybody’s there lol^

So no matter the reaction, they all are a little bummed nobody can get you, 

…but then of. Fucking. Course. 

LUMINE/AETHER as ALWAYS get SPECIAL TREATMENT 

(there’s not a single person throughout all the nations, the archons, the allogenes, doesnt matter, who hasn’t felt a LITTLE pang of envy for this- bc as cute as you sound, goddamit they USED to understand you when you weren’t physically here, before you overcame the Universal Barrier AKA the computer screen lol)

AND THEY GET TO UNDERSTAND YOU.

The Sumeru linguistics department is grinding their teeth, Alhaitham straight up glares every time they translate for you lmao, Zhongli’s eye twitches at least once everytime they do so, Kazuha is literally trying to bribe them with cool places he’s seen that the traveler hasn’t so they’ll share the secret of how to understand you, Ningguang gets 10x chillier when they’re helping convos w/ you, Ei looks like she’s fucking pouting-

☆

Aether is just like 🤨?? For what?? I’m helping???

So confused he never gets what’s going on lol

✨

Lumine, on the other hand, is FULLY aware and smirks every time she’s so smug about it LMAO 

^ the embodiment of the cat surrounded by knives meme ^

☆

Ahhhh my exhibition is April 6th u guys!

May I finally rest in peace when that day comes 🪦

Cant wait to graduate and just have a regular job and not academia + deadlines 😭😫

Hope you guys have had a nice week or two!

Look out for more posts after the 6th :>

Safe Travels,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

Short one but hope its fun my beloved!! :)

[fallingforfictionalcharacterss]

Okay, so Draco has a crush on the reader and his friends decide to give her love potion to help him out but they think it didn't work since the reader is behaving totally normal. But when one of her friends (maybe Ron) eats whatever they have poisened, he starts crushing on Draco. And then they all realize that the reader doesn't act any different because she is already in love with him. Sorry if this is weird.

Thanks for your request. I don´t think it´s weird at all, I rather find it pretty funny. In the beginning, I thought this would be really hard to write but in the end, I had lots of fun doing so. Have fun reading, too!

Cookies

You were sitting in the Great Hall with your friends, laughing at a joke Ron had just made. But even more, you laughed about the fact that Hermione rolled her eyes, acting as if she was really annoyed by Ron´s childish behaviour, while she actually had to try really hard not to smile herself. Your eyes were watering and your stomach hurt, while you wondered how you deserved those friends. Little did you know someone else just thought the same. And that certain someone was currently watching you from the other side of the room, turning green with envy when he saw you placing your head on Ron´s shoulder, looking at him in admiration.

“Draco? Draco, did you even listen?”

Draco flinched as someone grabbed him by the shoulder. He untied his gaze from you and turned around.

“Sorry. What did you say Pansy?”

The girl next to him rolled his eyes before she exchanged a knowing look with Blaise Zabini who had watched the unilateral conversation of his friends with a small grin on his face.

“Honestly Draco. I don’t even know what you see in her. I mean she is cute and all, but you haven’t even talked to her.”

“I have. Many times.”

“Oh yeah, one time you apologized after bumping into her after you had been too busy staring at her to watch your own feet and one time you called her out after she had dropped her quill. If you want to call your stutter talking.” Pansy sighted dramatically.

“Don’t forget all the times he had insulted her when she was with Potter and his friends.”, Blaise added in a deadpan voice..

“I never insulted her.”, Draco defended himself, stressing the last word of his sentence.

“Oh yeah, just her friends and her house and probably everything else in her life.”, Pansy giggled.

“It´s not my fault. She would be better off with me. I mean with us. In our house and everything.”, Draco mumbled, hoping no one would notice the slight rosy shimmer on his cheeks.

“Isn´t it lovely how he cares about his fellow human beings?”, Pansy teased in a sweet voice.

“I don’t.”

“You probably don’t care about anyone, do you?”

“Exactly.”

“Anyone but her.”

“If you keep on saying such nonsense, I will definitely stop caring about you.”, Draco snapped, slowly losing his patience.

“Lovely, he cares about me. Seems like (Y/n) made his heart of ice starting to melt.”

Draco sighed in resignation. It was useless to discuss with his friends. Besides, if he was honest, they might be right. Since he had met you, he had actually changed. He still remembered how he saw you the first time, walking down the hallways of the castle with a sweet smile on your face. You were one of those people everyone just had to love. But it might had hit Draco harder than the others. Because since he saw you smiling for the first time, he looked for it ever since. In every class, in the hallways, and during dinner. And when he heard your laugh for the first time, he knew he was doomed. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard, more beautiful than any music, more beautiful than any birdsongs, more beautiful than anything that existed in this world. And when his eyes had met yours for the first time, he was absolutely sure that there was no going back. He still remembered how he had seen you, walking in the opposite direction. He had been so busy admiring you that he hadn’t watched where he was going, had somehow stumbled over his own feet and fell practically right into your arms. He also remembered how you had asked him in a concerned voice if he was okay and how your eyes had widened when he had looked up to you, realizing that it was no other than Draco Malfoy, you had just held onto, preventing him from falling to the ground. And when he had mumbled an apology, as far as it had been possible, since his head felt completely empty as he stared into your beautiful eyes, you had just given him a sweet smile, assuring him that it was alright. He had seen your smile so many times before. But this had been the first time you had been smiling for him and him only. And he wore that smile in his heart ever since. But he also knew that it was foolish to think like this. It had been months since that incident and you had probably forgotten him by now. Still, he knew that he would remember your beautiful face and the sparkling of your eyes until the day he would die.

His friends had soon noticed that something was going on with him. Draco had always been moody, but since he had started falling for you, it had only gotten worse. He got angry with them when they distracted him from staring at or daydreaming about you. But as soon as you were close at hand, he turned into a completely another person, acting like a stupid love-drunk teenage boy, who he, in fact, was. When he had finally admitted to Pansy and Blaise, saying that he didn’t knew himself what was even going on, they were quick to say that their best friend, the cold-hearted Slytherin king Draco Malfoy, was undeniably and irreversibly in love with you, even though he always stressed that this was drastically exaggerated. But that didn’t change the fact, that he simply couldn’t take his eyes off you, not even speaking of his thoughts.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?”, Blaise asked the thousands of times.

Draco sighted again and just shrugged his shoulders.

“How do you think she would even be interested in me? I mean she is… perfect and I am… me.”

Those self-conscious words weren’t usual for Draco. Normally he was one of the most confident people around, sometimes it was even a little too much, but when it came to you all of that vanished into the air.

“You will never know if she is if you don’t ask her.”

“Maybe I will. Someday.”, Draco mumbled, before he grabbed his belongings and stood up. “Nevermind. I am going to leave. Still got some homework to do.”

“We have to do something about it.”, Pansy whispered as soon as Draco was out of earshot. “I can´t even look at him behaving like this. He´s making a complete fool out of himself.”

“Any plans?”, Blaise asked her.

Pansy just smiled evilly.

“I might.”

(Y/n)! (Y/n), wait for me!”

It was a few days after the conversation in the Great Hall of which you were still completely unaware. You stopped your way and turned around. Pansy Parkinson walked up to you, with a big smile on her face, you had barely ever seen on her. When she had reached you, it only grew wider.

“Hey (Y/n).”

“Hey Pansy.”, you answered with a small smile, unsure of what the Slytherin girl might had on her mind.

“I watched you back in charms class. You are really good in this stuff.”

“Thanks?” It was more a question than an answer.

“I was wondering if you might help me out. I still have trouble with this water-making spell and you are really good at it, so I thought you might help me practice after class?”

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. You had never been one of those students who got up in their house pride and got along with the students from the other houses, but Slytherins were of a different calibre. They had always been hard to get along with and you knew that Pansy was one of those people who took the principles of her house very seriously. Even though you were pure blood, you were still hanging out with people like Hermione, who was, in the opinion of some Slytherins, less worth than pureblood wizards, making you a blood traitor.

“You want me to help you?”, you asked in disbelief.

Pansy nodded.

“You are on top of the class and I know you helped others out before and they told me you were great at explaining so I thought it might be worth a try.”

What if this was some kind of joke? But on the other hand, why should she choose you out of all the Gryffindors? You had never had trouble with her before. Plus, what joke would it be asking for help? And you were good in school, especially charms, indeed.

You nodded.

“Okay. At five in the courtyard? I don’t think we should try this inside, plus the weather is really nice.”, you suggested.

Pansy nodded eagerly.

“Great. See you at five (Y/n)”

Then she left, but before she disappeared behind the next corner, she turned around, raising her hand to wave at you happily.

When she was out of sight, you shook your head. This was by far one of the strangest things that had happened to you in a long time.

It was five to five. You were sitting on a wall of the courtyard with your wand, an empty cup and a book about charms, in case you would have to look something up. When you heard some footsteps behind you, you saw Pansy walking up to you, her book bag over her shoulder and a happy grin on her face.

“Are you ready?”, she greeted you, when she stood in front of you.

You nodded.

“Are you?”

Pansy lifted her chin proudly.

“I was born ready.”

Her comment made you giggle, earning a confused look from Pansy.

“Shall we?”

“Well, this one looks way better.”, you said, while Pansy looked at you hopefully.

The two of you had spent over an hour practising the spell. The muddy liquid that gushed out of the tip of her wand at the beginning had become more and more clear. This time it actually looked quite drinkable. You took the cup to your mouth, taking a sip, before you spit it out again, immediately.

“Brine!”, you wheezed, coughing and disgorging in a desperate attempt to get rid of the disgusting taste on your tongue.

“By Merlin´s beard, I´m so sorry (Y/n).”, Pansy said in a genuine voice.

With a quick motion of your wand, you filled the cup with some fresh water on your own, non-salty this time, gulping it down your throat quickly.

“I guess that´s one of the risks of helping others out.”, you rattled. The smirk on your face told Pansy that you weren’t mad at her.

You took a deep breath and dried the tears that had welled up in your eyes. Pansy, on the other hand, grabbed her book bag that was laying on the bench next to her and opened it. She pulled out a small box and handed it to you.

“As a reparation.”

You opened the box curiously. Inside were lying some delicious-looking and smelling cookies. You felt your mouth watering.

“My mother sends them to me every month. I don’t have the heart to tell her I don’t even like them. But maybe you do.”

You eyed Pansy suspiciously. At first she was asking you for help and now she brought you cookies? But they looked far too good, especially since your throat was still burning.

“Thanks.”, you said, while you grabbed a cookie.

At the first taste, you sighted and closed your eyes.

“They are amazing! How can you not like them?”, you asked, while enthusiastically chewing it, before taking another bite.

“I don’t have that much of a sweet tooth. But Draco likes them a lot.”

Pansy glanced at you from the corner of her eyes, but you didn’t notice, since you were still focused on the food in front of you.

“How couldn’t he? This is one of the best things I´ve ever eaten.”

“Then I suggest you share them with him from the next delivery on.”

“If I have to, I will fight for every single one of it.”, you laughed.

Then you saw Pansy looking at you expectantly.

“What is it?”, you asked. “Do I have something on my face?”

But Pansy just shook her head and smiled.

“Nothing. It´s nothing. Just take another one.”

But you shook your head and placed the box with the remaining cookies by your side.

“At first we will continue practising. But this time you will try whatever comes out of your wand.”

Pansy laughed.

“Okay, I will do my best not to poison anyone again.”

“Great. Now try the movement a little bit more fluent.”, you said as you showed Pansy once again how to fill up the cup with drinkable water.

Pansy nodded with a frown and tried to copy your movement.

Not even fifteen minutes later, she had actually managed to produce some drinkable water three times in a row.

She smiled at you proudly as you took a sip from the cup. This time without spitting it out again.

“Great! You got it.”, you smiled, glad that your student had finally achieved her goal.

“Thanks to you.”, Pansy said, but you just shook your head.

“This was all you. I was only the support.”

“Anyway, you were very patient with me. I think I would have lost it after ten minutes.”

Pansy and you laughed.

“Well, Hermione and I are practising with Harry and Ron pretty often. And they are way worse than you. Not to mention you didn’t blow anything up like Seamus always does.”, you chuckled.

“Well, you Gryffindors aren’t that smart after all, are you?”, Pansy couldn’t resist the small tease.

You raised an eyebrow.

“So you´re telling me no Slytherins ever need help with some spells?”

Pansy shrugged her shoulders.

“Most of us don’t. Except for Crabbe and Goyle maybe. But they are just stupid.” She grinned. “Really stupid.”

“Don´t you say.”

“But Draco always helps them out. I think he is the only reason they are still in this school.”

“Wouldn’t have taken him for a merciful Samaritan.”, you said. You couldn’t hide the surprise in your voice.

“I don’t think that´s the right account but he isn’t that bad at all.”

“Well, you aren’t either. And both of you got a certain… reputation.”

“So do you.”

You looked at her in surprise That was news to you.

“I do?”

“Of course sweetheart.”, Pansy chuckled.

“And what kind of reputation?”, you asked carefully, trying to make your voice sound incidental.

“C´mon (Y/n). Don’t you know? You are literally the sunshine in person. I don’t think there is a single person in this castle who doesn’t like you.”

You felt your cheeks redden. It was true, you got along with many people, but you had never thought that this was what even the Slytherins thought about you.

“Well, I always thought you didn’t like me.”, you said, glancing at Pansy. “You and your friends.”

Pansy laughed in amusement.

“Believe me I really tried. But it seems like it is impossible. Especially after you helped me out today. And everyone else likes you too. Even Draco absolutely adores you.” She glanced at you again, but you just let out a small chuckle.

“Let´s not exaggerate.”, you mumbled, while your cheeks only grew darker and darker.

“This is probably still understated.”, Pansy answered. “You have no idea.”

You chatted for a few more minutes before you decided to get back to the castle. Still happily chatting you walked down the aisles when Pansy suddenly stopped.

“Look, it´s Draco and Blaise.”

“Oh well, I think I can leave you alone now then.”, you said, expecting that your ways would part again now, but Pansy seemed to have different plans.

She grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you with her, heading towards her friends. When the two boys heard the footsteps, they looked up to you, a smile breaking on their faces when they saw you.

“Finally learned it Pansy?”, Blaise asked, when you stood in front of them.

Pansy nodded eagerly. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Rather at another time. I really thought you were a hopeless case.”, he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but feel surprised when you heard Blaise making such a noise. To you, he had always appeared very serious. Or maybe you were just surprised he could speak that much at all since in class his answers were mostly taciturn.

“I had a great teacher.”, Pansy smiled, pulling you even closer to the group.

You threw the boys a shy smile, slightly intimidated by the three Slytherins.

“Oh yeah, feel kind of sorry for you.”, Blaise said, turning to you now.

“No need to be sorry, she did great.”

“But without you I would still producing some mud.”

“Or brine.”, you giggled.

Blaise raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Sounds like you didn’t do so great after all.”, he mocked.

“Oh I did.”, Pansy stated, before she added quietly: “After I nearly poisoned her.”

“It wasn’t that bad. And I also got a good reparation.”

“Looks like Draco was right after all. You´re way too smart and way too kind to be in Gryffindor.”, Blaise said.

You looked at him in surprise. But before you could react, Draco did.

“Just shut it Blaise.”, he grumbled. “I don’t think I have ever said that.”

You looked at the blond boy with the slightly rosy cheeks, shooting a deadly glance at his friend. The thought that Draco Malfoy at some point might had actually complimented you, made you blush.

Little did those people know that you had a crush on the Slytherin boy for quite a while. You had always thought that Draco was quite handsome, but since he had always been such a prick, especially among Harry, you decided to not give it any more importance. But then, a few months ago, he had practically fallen in front of your feet. You still remembered how he was holding on to your arm, in a desperate attempt not to fall. When he had caught his balance again, he mumbled a quick excuse, before he disappeared again, probably embarrassed about himself. But for some reason, the warmth of his hands and the look of his grey eyes were carved into your mind. And when he, only a few weeks later, had called you out, because you had dropped your quill, all you had done was stare at him in awe. Since that day, you were wondering if Draco might not be as bad as everyone always stated. But still, you were trying to tell you that you were just slightly attracted to him because he was, objectively speaking, quite attractive. But a part of you knew, that the way your heart skipped a beat, whenever his gaze unintentionally met yours, wasn’t normal.

And now you were standing right in front of him, while his presence made you feel dizzy once more. You had the sudden urge to tell him how stupidly attracted you were to him, but you were already used to having to resist the feeling of making a fool out of yourself whenever he was around.

“Oh yeah, about what should we talk about then? The way you always stare at her? Or how you…”

“Enough Pansy!”, Draco´s voice was sharp as he interrupted his friend. Then he turned around to you. “Sorry for that. She´s just making fun.”

“Am I?” Pansy wiggled her eyebrows.

You felt your heart drop, harder than you would have expected it to at his confession. But you forced yourself to smile and shrugged your shoulders.

“Friends can be very annoying sometimes.”, you said.

Draco let out a sight of relief and nodded.

“You have no idea.”

You laughed. A laugh that made Draco think some choirs of angels were singing. And it was because of him. He made you make that sound. Now that he knew he was able to make you laugh, he could die as a happy man. Unfortunately, you had no idea that he was feeling like this. Because if you would, you might have stayed a little longer, maybe forever, but you simply just didn’t know. And that was the reason you were now ready to go before it would get any more embarrassing.

“I think I really have to go now.”, you stated.

Pansy and Blaise looked at you in disappointment.

“Already?”, Pansy asked with puppy eyes.

You nodded.

“Need to freshen up before dinner. But if you need my help again, just tell me. This was actually quite fun.”

“I will. Thanks again.”

“You´re welcome.”, you smiled, before you turned around, relieved and sad at the same time you would finally get out of this situation.

“Didn’t you give them to her?”, Blaise whispered, as soon as you were out of earshot.

“I did.”, Pansy replied.

“Did she eat them?”

“Two of them. This was more than enough.”

“Then why didn’t it work?”

“What didn’t work?”, Draco interrupted his friends as soon as he had liberated from his rigidity, staring at the spot you had just been standing and processing what had just happened. “And anyway. What is wrong with you? Did you want to make me a fool in front of her?”

But Pansy quickly shushed him, a move not many would have dared to make.

 “I don’t know. Maybe it lost its effect?”, she told Blaise, ignoring Draco´s questions.

“But why?”

“I have no idea.”

“But you came up with the plan.”

“I know.”

“Well it wasn’t that brilliant after all.”

“You don’t have to tell me, Blaise.”, Pansy hissed. Then she sighed. “Not only that it didn’t work, but I also lost all the cookies to her.”

Blaise groaned. “What now?”

“I don’t know.”

The two remained silent, until Draco spoke up.

“Okay, what are you talking about? And for the love of Salazar please tell me by cookies you didn’t mean those of your mother.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight. She didn’t just ask you for help, she also gave you cookies?”

You could hear the disbelieve in Hermione´s voice. You were sitting in the common room with her, Ron and Harry. You nodded.

“I really don’t know what to think about it. There was nothing wrong with anything that had happened, still, it feels… strange.”

“Maybe they poisoned the cookies.”, Harry suggested.

You shook your head. “I´ve already eaten some of them. They are nothing but tasty. You can try them if you want to.”

Hermione and Harry declined, but Ron gladly grabbed one and shoved it into his mouth.

“Bloody hell, they are amazing!”, he stated.

You nodded in agreement and took another one as well.

“Maybe they want to gain your trust.”, Harry continued.

“Okay, but why me?”

“You´re a Gryffindor. You´re the enemy.”

“But why me and not someone else?”

“You´re way to trustful.”

“I´m simply not as paranoid as you.”, you snapped back, slightly offended.

“It´s not paranoid if it´s about Malfoy.”

“It wasn’t Draco it was Pansy who asked me and if…”

“Draco? Did you say Draco?”, you suddenly heard Ron´s voice from the armchair next to you.

Confused about the interruption, you stopped and looked at him.

“Yes.”

“Draco Malfoy?” The sound of Ron´s voice was strange. You frowned.

“Do you know another one?” “The pretty one with the nice blond hair?”

You nearly choked on your cookie.

“If you want to put it this way…”

“What, do you think he isn’t pretty?”, Ron sounded quite angry.

“Ron, is everything okay with you?”, Hermione asked carefully.

A silly grin spread across Ron´s face as he nodded.

“Never been better. It just feels so good to be in love, you know?”

You could see Hermione blushing.

“In love? You mean…”

“Yes. In love. How couldn’t I be? He is so amazing, don’t you think?”, Ron said in a dreamy voice.

You exchanged a confused look with Hermione and Harry.

“Who are we talking about again?”

“Draco. Draco Malfoy of course. I mean, just listen to the sound of his name. There is no other way than that he is an amazing human being.”, Ron sighted.

Harry hid his laugh by simulating a cough.

 “Ron, are you serious? It´s Malfoy we´re talking about. You hated him since the first grade…”

Harry couldn’t continue, as Ron sprang to his feet, slapping Harry on the arm.

“That´s not funny!”, he yelled. Then he sank back into the chair. “I think I love him.”

He stared into the fire burning in the fireplace, lost in his thoughts.

“What do you think?”, you asked Hermione in a low voice.

She just shrugged her shoulders.

“Maybe a curse or a potion. We should get him to Madame Pomfrey.”

You nodded, looking to Harry who by now seemed to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation. Then he stood up.

“C´mon Ron. We´re getting you to…”

“To Draco?” Ron looked at you hopefully.

“Exactly, to Draco.”

“How do I look?”, Ron asked.

“You look great Ron.”, Hermione said.

“Do you think he likes me too?”, Ron asked.

“Yeah, he does.”, Harry said.

“Do you know I really love him?”, Ron asked.

“Yes, you truly do.”, you said.

Those were the conversations you had while you walked through the castle, trying to shield Ron from all the curious glances of the few students who were still awake. You just prayed you wouldn’t meet Draco on your way to the hospital wing since that would probably be the most awkward encounter ever.

That´s what you thought when you turned around a corner. In the next moment, you groaned in resignation. Obviously, as soon as you thought about him, he needed to appear. In the most unfavourable moment. You tried to stop and turned Ron around, but that´s when Pansy, who was standing there with Draco and Blaise, saw you.

“(Y/n)!”, she yelled, while waving at you. “What are you doing here?”

Somehow Pansy sounded as if she would exactly know why you were still out now. Maybe Harry had been right. Maybe you were too trustful.

When Ron heard Pansy´s voice, his gaze shot up. When he spotted Malfoy, his hands started to shake and he bounced his leg up and down in anticipation.

“Bloody hell. Bloody hell! It´s him. Harry, it´s actually him. He looks beautiful, doesn’t he? I´m so nervous. What do you think? Should I just walk up to him? What am I supposed to say? Should I tell him I´m in love with him or should I just play it cool?”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other frantically. What were you supposed to do? But then you had a flash of genius.

“Okay, Ron. You should really tell him you love him. But I think you need a little bit more privacy. So I am going to talk to Pansy and Blaise, so they will leave the two of you alone. Okay?”

Ron nodded nervously.

“Okay. And what am I supposed to do?”

“You just stay here with Harry and Hermione and try to calm down. Maybe you could practice what you want to say.”

“Yes. Yes, I will do this.”

You glanced at your friends one last time before you walked up to Pansy, Blaise and Draco.

Pansy and Blaise grinned knowingly, while Draco looked just confused at what was going on. His friends still hadn’t told him what they had done.

“(Y/n), are you already missing us? Or at least one of us?”, Pansy smiled.

But you didn’t have time for her games.

“What have you done?”, you hissed at her.

Pansy´s face fell, as well as Blaise´s. Draco just stared at you in awe.

“I… I don’t know what you are talking about.”, Pansy stuttered, obviously surprised by your reaction.

“Oh, you don’t? What have you done? Did you try to hex me or smuggled something into my food?”

“Why would we do this?”

“I have no idea. You can tell me. But whatever your plan was, let me tell you it didn’t work out.”

“Obviously.”, Blaise mumbled under his breath.

You turned around to him.

“So Harry was right. You had a plan. You played with me all along.”, you tried to keep your voice low, so Ron wouldn’t hear you, but it was hard since you were as angry as you had never been before.

“No, that´s not what… We didn’t mean to harm anyone. We wanted to… Well, let´s say we wanted to help someone out.”

“Lucky for you no one is harmed yet. But that will change if I´ll get Ron.”

Pansy narrowed her eyes. Now all three of them looked as if they had no idea of what was going on.

“Ron?”

“Yes Ron, because he is very desperate to meet Draco.”, you smiled sweetly.

“Why? What does Weaselbee even want from me?” He sounded genuinely irritated.

“Declaring his love for you.”

Against your will, you had to smile. This situation was just absurd.

“He wants to what?”, Draco spit out. “(Y/n), you´re kidding me, right?”

He looked at you intensely, making a shiver run down your spine, but this wasn’t the right time for those kinds of feelings.

“Do I look like I am?”, you asked.

“Well, you must be. For what reason should he do this?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

You glared at the boy in front of you who just shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

Then you heard someone clear his throat.

“He can´t.”

You spun around to Pansy and Blaise, who looked by now very guilty.

“Why´s that?”

“Because he doesn’t know.”

You looked at them with narrowed eyes. Should you actually belief them?

“But you do.” It was an assessment, not a question.

“Ron tried the cookies, didn’t he?”, Pansy asked.

“Yes he did, but why…”

Now you realized.

“Lovepotion?”

The two of them nodded.

“You smuggled lovepotion into the cookies you gave me?”

“It was only meant for you. We thought it might be worth a try, since Draco… Nevermind.”, she said as she saw Draco staring at her with dangerousness in his face you had barely ever noticed.

“Doesn’t matter now. We need to keep Draco away from Weasly.”, Blaise stated and you nodded in agreement.

“If it has been a potion, we should go to Professor Snape.”, Draco suggested.

The thought of going to the one teacher who detested you with every fibre of his body jibed you, but since he was the potion master, it was probably your best option.

“You go first. Tell him what happened. I´ll get Ron. We´ll talk later about how absolutely disgusting it is trying to force someone to think they are in love.”

The others nodded in agreement, Pansy and Blaise shooting you some apologetic looks, and then they turned around, while you went back to Ron and the others.

Ron was already craning his neck to watch Draco, as he disappeared around the next corner.

“What happened? Doesn’t he want to see me?”, Ron asked. Tears filled his eyes at the mare thought of it.

You were quick to shake your head.

“They are preparing a surprise.”

“A surprise?”

Now Ron´s eyes were sparkling excitedly.

“Yes. A date for just the two of you. They told me where. Just follow me.”

And while Ron reeled behind you as if he was drunk -it was for a reason you said love-drunk-, talking to himself how lucky he was to be in love with such an amazing human being, you told Hermione and Harry in a low voice what had happened.

“Changes of plan we are going to Snape. It was a love potion. Some kind of sick joke. They are already waiting for us.

You knocked on the door of Snape´s office. Only a few seconds later, he opened the door. His face was blank, showing no emotion or what he thought.

“In.”, he sneered.

You threw him a thankful smile, which he didn’t react to -you hadn’t expected anything else- before you turned around to Ron.

“Let´s go. He is in there.”

Ron´s face got red in excitement, as he pushed behind you threw the door. Draco was standing in a corner, hands in his pocket and looked as if would rather be anywhere but here. You somehow understood.

Still, you would have given anything to keep the next moments on camera.

When Ron saw Draco, he froze.

“Draco.”, he whispered.

Draco looked as if he had given in to his fate and just gave him a short nod. That´s when Ron started to move again, rushing forward to the blond boy, who moved back until his back hit the wall. When Ron had reached him, he wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in a tight embrace. Draco looked as if he wanted to murder him right here and now, but somehow he managed to just stand still and not react to any actions of Ron at all.

“I need to tell you something Draco.”, Ron purred.

Draco just shrugged his shoulders, looking as if he weren’t exactly interested in what Ron had to say.

“I love you.”, Ron said, who was all smiles. “You are the love of my life.”

Since Ron couldn’t quite stand on his feet anymore, he slowly slid off, until his face was pressed against Draco´s chest. Draco kept him there with a sight, preventing him from sliding down any further. Ron looked up to him in admiration, while he fluttered his eyelashes.

Draco looked desperately to Snape, who was looking for the right antidote.

“Professor, hurry. I am begging you.”

You looked at Pansy, Blaise, Harry and Hermione, who stood next to you, trying to hide their grins at the view in front of them. You were pretty sure none of you would ever forget this day.

Finally, Snape had found what he had been looking for, and pulled out a small vial. He walked over to Ron and Draco and handed it to Ron.

“Drink.”

Ron looked at the vial in his hand, then up to Draco, then to Snape.

“You aren’t half as pretty as Draco, you know this? I mean no one is, but you are in fact very ugly.”

You held your breath. The others did too. How would Snape react? To your surprise, he didn´t at all.

“His eyes look like diamonds but yours are just black. Black as your soul. And your hair is so greasy and dark, but his is so fluffy and nearly white.”

He tried to touch Draco´s hair, but since his balance was damaged, he somehow managed to grab his hair but then sunk back down again. Draco whimpered in pain as Ron pulled him on his hair down with him.

“Drink that stuff or I´ll kill you.”, Draco hissed.

Ron looked at him with widened eyes.

“I thought you love me.”, he whispered.

Draco took a deep breath, trying to control himself.

“Please drink that. Okay? Do it for me.”

Ron smiled at the last words.

“Anything for you.”, he said.

Then he grabbed the vial and drank it at a gulp.

Now you would just have to wait. But within seconds you saw the antidote doing its magic.

Slowly, the stupid smile vanished from Ron´s face and gave way to a confused face. Ron blinked a few times. Then he looked up and saw Draco´s face. Looking back down, he realized his face was still pressed against his chest.

Quicker than anything you had seen him do ever before, he jumped up, stumbling away from Draco.

“Bloody hell, what was that?”, he cursed, while finding shelter behind Hermione´s back.

“I was thinking just the same.”, Draco muttered as he tried to fix his robe and hair again.

Ron shook his head as if he wanted to get rid of what had just happened. Then he looked at Pansy and Blaise, who still looked slightly amused.

“You? It was you, wasn’t it? I swear to Godric, I..”

“Now that Mr Weasley is healed, you may as well continue this somewhere else.”, Snape interrupted you. You nodded and mumbled a thank you to Snape, but just as you were about to leave, he held you back again.

“Mr Weasley, for your insults you will receive detention for the next month. As well as Mr Zabini and Mrs Parkinson. Also ten points from Gryffindor for eating something poisoned, since you had been so stupid. Also, Mrs. (Y/l/n), ten points from you since you were the one who gave it to him. You may leave.”

Harry wanted to protest, but Hermione pushed him out of the door, saving him from getting detention too for what he would probably have said.

Just as you crossed the doorstep, you heard Pansy speaking up.

“Professor. Are there any reasons why a love potion doesn’t affect someone?”

“If it was brewed the wrong way.”

“And if it had affected someone else?” “It is always depending on many different factors how the potion works. The quantity of the potion for example, or in this case the attraction of the object of the desire. These are all factors that might influence the effectiveness.” “And if someone doesn’t respond at all?”

“In the case of this potion, it is simple. It creates a rapture, it is neither strong nor long-lasting. Also, it only affects the feelings the victim thinks it has for the other person, not their behaviour. If the victim for example already feels some kind of attraction towards the object of desire, they may not behave any different.”

You felt the eyes of the other students burning on you. Your face heated up immediately. You felt Draco´s gaze lingering on you, but you didn’t dare to look up at him, so you just stared at the ground in front of you.

“Now get out of here before you all receive a detention.”, Snape sneered.

Quickly you left the room before Snape slammed the door behind you.

An awkward silence spread across you. It was Pansy who broke the silence.

“Weasley? We´re sorry about… what happened. And now I was just wondering…” She paused. You thought she wanted to ask for Ron´s forgiveness, but then you saw the sparkling in her eyes. “If you have already planned a second date.”

That´s when you broke. The entire situation was too odd to not be funny. Hermione, Harry, Blaise, Pansy and you were laughing until the tears were running down your cheeks. Ron and Draco on the other hand glanced at each other hatefully.

“Let´s just forget this ever happened, okay?”, Ron mumbled as you had finally calmed down again, whipping away the last tears.

“Agreed.”, Draco said, giving him a short not.

“We will never let them forget this, will we?”, Harry whispered and Hermione and you shook your head simultaneously. And right next to you, Blaise and Pansy planned just the same.

“Okay, let´s leave, before Snape actually gives us detention.”, you suggested and turned around to leave. The others followed you.

“(Y/n)?”

You froze. A part of you had hoped he would just forget about a certain little detail Snape had mentioned, but maybe he didn’t.

Hermione turned around to you, raising her eyebrows, silently asking if you wanted her to stay, but you just shook your head and gave her a small smile. Then you turned around to Draco, who looked just as nervous as you did.

“I´m sorry about what happened.”, he said, rubbing his neck.

You shrugged your shoulders.

“It wasn’t your fault. Pansy and Blaise did this.”

“Yes, but they wouldn’t have if…” He stopped.

“If what?”, you asked curiously. You would have expected him to tease you about the fact that you obviously had at least a small crush on him. In your thoughts, you had already planned how to disappear and take a new identity, so you wouldn’t be reminded about this for the rest of your life. But for now, this didn’t seem to be Draco´s intention.

“I think they did it because I might have mentioned one or two times that you are kind of cute?”

Your jaw dropped.

Draco Malfoy thought you were cute?

“You… You think I am cute?”, you asked in disbelieve.

Draco turned slightly pink, what made him look even more adorable.

“Way easier to admit this now that I know… now that I assume that you might feel the same about me.”, he mumbled, still he didn’t sound as if it had been easy for him to tell you this.

“Well, you are kinda cute too Malfoy.”, you chuckled.

Draco looked at you with narrowed eyes.

“I´m serious (Y/n). Don’t make fun of me. I already regret telling you.”, he muttered.

“I´m serious too.”, you smiled. “But for real Draco. I… I really like you. I mean we barely know each other but I think I could grow into… well, more than just like you.”

Draco looked at you hopefully.

“You do?”

“I do.”

And your smile only grew wider as you saw his face lightning up at your words.

“So… Would you like to go out with me sometime?”, he asked, still nervous about your reaction, even though the look on your face already told him the answer.

You nodded eagerly.

“I would love to.”

“Great.”

“Great.”

Silence.

“Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?”, Draco asked after a few moments.

“Well, if you don’t mind.”

“I would be honoured.”, he chuckled and bowed lightly in front of you. The gesture made you giggle and the giggle made his heart beat faster.

When you reached the entrance to your common room, you were slightly disappointed. Not because of Draco. Actually, it was quite the opposite. In the few minutes he had walked you up here, you had had much fun. By now you were sure, that whatever was going on between the two of you, wouldn’t end with this day.

“Well, I am already looking forward to our date.”

Draco gave you a smile which you returned sweetly.

“If you want me to, I can also bring Ron. I´m sure we would all have lots of fun.”, you teased him.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Please, just let me forget this ever happened.”

“If you really think for one second, I will ever forget this you may not know me as good as you think you do.”, you answered with a cheeky smile. “The way he hugged you and looked up to you and, pulled your hair…”

“Oh, just shut up.”, Draco grumbled.

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him in amusement.

“Make me.”

And before you even knew what was happening, Draco grabbed you by the waist and pressed his lips on yours. You returned his kiss immediately. His thumbs were drawing some small circles on your hipbones, while your hands traced along his chest. You sighted into the kiss at the feeling on his skin on yours.

When you finally let go of each other, panting heavily, you smiled cheekily again.

“Well, that wasn’t what I meant but still…”

Draco just chuckled bashfully.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help it. I wanted to do this since forever.”

“I didn’t say I would mind.”, you grinned, placing a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Draco took that as an opportunity to pull you into a kiss once more.

It was a sweet and innocent kiss. Careful and tender.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept back on your lips when he took a step back and admired you.

“I really love your smile you know that?”, he whispered.

The smile only grew wider and you blushed madly, lowering your head, trying to hide behind a curtain of your hair.

But Draco was quick to cup your cheeks into his hands and make you look up to him again.

“Don’t hide love. You are so beautiful. You know that? The most beautiful person I have ever seen.”

“You don’t look in the mirror often, do you?”, you asked, making him chuckle.

“I do, but do you?”

When he saw the smile on your face again, he started placing short, sweet kisses all over it, making you giggle again.

“Draco, that tickles.”, you squeezed out.

But Draco didn’t care about your protest since he could hear in your voice, that you didn’t mind his actions at all, and so did your arms you wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“All mine.”, he whispered in your ear, when he placed another kiss shortly under it, making you shiver.

“Maybe you should take me out before you claim your ownership.”

“I will. Every day. Wherever you want. As long as you are mine.” “Yours.”, you whispered.

Draco placed one last kiss on your neck before he pulled back and looked into your eyes again. “Yes, you are. You are mine. And I am yours.”

He pulled you into a tight embrace and you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck.

“Draco?”

“Hmm?”

“If I mean so much to you, you will leave Pansy´s cookies from now on to me, won´t you?”

“In your dreams my love.”

Taglist: @xodracomalfoyxo @marigold-morelli

[oneatlatime]

The Journey to Ba Sing Se Part 2: The Drill

Could I have Appa back please?

The Previously On segment actually didn't spoil anything for once. Nice.

I do like these tank things. In fact I like all Fire Nation technology. Not what it's used for. But the designs are neat. And more interesting than most actual military tech. You ever look at something techy, and think to yourself 'there was an artist involved here,' because that's the impression FN tech gives me. It's not beautiful, but there's a pleasing toothiness to it.

Excellent sound design on the metal screechy moving bits. And is that tank escort really necessary?

I know this is a kids' cartoon, with characters that are designed to be the audience's age. I know! And usually I can suspend my disbelief and forget that I'm watching children do very adult jobs! But this caught me so off guard I laughed. The Fire Nation's big secret project to break through the wall once and for all, that would be an absolute career making achievement for whoever is in charge, and they've given it to a bunch of teenage girls. This is where my suspension of disbelief stops.

Can you imagine the meeting where this was proposed? The Fire Lord being like "Who can lead the attack on Ba Sing Se? We lost Zhao at the North Pole, does whoever it is who occupies his equivalent rank in the Army want the job? Or even Zhao's second in command perhaps? Or how about: three middle school girls, two of which aren't even members of the military? Doesn't that sound like a good plan?" And of course all his advisors have to agree and be like "that sounds like an excellent plan your lordship; did you have any particular girls in mind or should we go scout out the local Claire's?" because the last guy who disagreed with him got his face blown off. I don't care how viciously talented Azula and friends are; a country that puts eighth graders in charge of invasion plans should have lost the war in year one, not still be winning it in year 99.

Did that random commander guy just smack Ty Lee in the face?

Problem the first of this plan: unless the Fire Nation has invented pocket dimensions or bags of holding, there is no way that that drill, even stuffed full of soldiers, would hold enough people to take a city that seemingly contains every single refugee in the entire Earth Kingdom.

Do you think those refugees got preferential treatment for arriving on an Avatar powered elevator?

"I'm the Avatar. Take me to whoever's in charge." OWN IT BABY!!!

That's one hell of an irrigation system they must have.

"He was quickly expunged." Was he? I got the impression he quit. Of his own accord.

Something tells me like forty guys throwing rocks won't stop that thing.

So... what was Mai doing that whole fight? Hanging decoratively off a rope?

I'd forgotten how stupid Earth Kingdom generals were. Luckily Sokka is there to vicariously express my opinion of them. A reverse beat up Sokka quota fulfillment!

Toph is such a little shit and I love her.

Aang sure does put up with a lot sometimes. Part of being the Avatar. It's a good thing he has such patience. Can we talk about how lucky the world is that Aang is the one tasked with putting up with nonsense like this? Imagine if Sokka or Toph were the Avatar. There would be casualties.

I like complaining too buddy. Nice to see Sokka's worth being recognised. Now can we do that outside of a life or death situation too please?

I joke about Zuko's dumbass behaviour, but let's be honest, it's inherited.

Jet. Fuckboy. You do not make it easy to even slightly like you. Guy is missing the point as much as Zuko usually does. Going straight MEANS leaving the freedom fighters behind. It doesn't mean reforming them somewhere else. And what Fire Nation threat are you going to find in Ba Sing Se for your Freedom Fighters to fight? You know, if this idiot was actually serious about fighting for Freedom rather than blowing stuff up for fun, he'd fudge his age and enlist in the Earth Kingdom Army.

Four points: How does Katara know Ty Lee's name? Is this confirmation that waterbending healing cannot remove a Chi block? I love that the trait that gives away Ty Lee's identity is the fact that she cartwheeled away. I love Sokka. Just in general.

There is no way this girl is not tripping.

Can you imagine how loud standing right next to that drill must be?

ABS

Normally I'd say that one earthbender trying to slow the drill down with spikes will work even worse than the Terra Team who tried and failed with like 40, but this is Toph we're talking about. It could work.

These children are so polite when they're committing industrial sabotage. Truly, they were raised well.

Do you ever get the feeling that whoever is in charge of designing Fire Nation armour is into a few things that he's trying to repress so hard that they're coming out in all the wrong places?

Jet seems to have lost all the manipulative abilities he had in his episode. Suddenly he's very bad at reading body language and keeps saying the exact opposite of what he should.

New achievement unlocked! 1000% agreeing with something Zuko said! That was a pretty stupid move.

Cups made out of leaves are neat.

Katara, you can't have it both ways. You can't look to Sokka to make the plan, then get snippy when the plan correctly plays to all of your strengths. He physically CAN'T bend. Either you come up with a better plan yourself, or you do as the guy you appointed planner suggests.

Points in favour of allowing Katara to murder people, exhibit 1.

Confirmed: Sokka is catnip for girls.

Even in comparison to the others, Ty Lee has a bad case of cartoon physics.

Did Katara just disarm herself? That'll come back to bite her in 3, 2, 1...

Mai gets a second personality trait! Yay!

There is no way this is actually practical armour. This is someone in procurement with a thing for sweaty bulging muscles and puppy masks.

And thus, the log ride was born. Later versions would go on to perfect the concept by introducing a log.

I felt Sokka's mud freakout in my bones. Looks like Katara giving away her water isn't going to be a problem.

Petition to let Katara say bitch. The voice actress said Circus Freak but I know what I heard in my heart.

Remember that time Sokka smacked his forehead so many times that his face was permanently red? My turn now.

Aang. I know you love your friends. But maybe a battle on top of a moving machine of destruction in the midst of an aerial assault from your idiotic allies while facing off with the single most powerful and amoral firebender in existence, isn't a place to bring your pet lemur?

Beat up Sokka quota fulfilled by little sister. It's surprising that isn't the case more often. I know Sokka took it too far, but if you don't want him telling you what to do, maybe you shouldn't have looked to him for a plan?

Toph is here! Day saved.

Finally some sense re: Momo safety.

Time for the Western showdown. There's even something that could stand in for a water tower in the background.

If Azula had just struck at Aang the second he got knocked unconscious, rather than waiting until he woke up for dramatic purposes, she would have won this. I give Zuko Hell for being a theatre kid, but he's not the only one in the family.

I would love to know what they make Fire Nation boot soles out of. They have supernatural traction.

I take back everything I said about pet safety. That was a really cool Momo assist.

Aang invents the pneumatic hammer.

I LOVE that the cut braces had an effect after all. Sokka's contribution counts!

I bet this guy's wishing he'd been eaten by a giant fishman like Zhao right about now. Have fun explaining that one to the Firelord!

HOW is Ty Lee still alive?

HOW does Azula still have knees after that drop?

HOW does Mai have such perfect timing?

ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN

They really ought to put wheels on all but the back car to reduce friction and save energy. Then again, if the Earth Kingdom is one thing, it's stupid.

So... Jet's change of heart lasted a bit less than one episode. Good job fuckboy!

So precious.

So Pretty.

Final Thoughts

This was like 90% action, with the other 10% being split between Zuko & Iroh plot stuff and Sokka playing comic relief. So there's not that much to talk about here really (she says, having found a whole post's worth of stuff to talk about).

Sokka had his bossy pants on, admittedly because he was asked to don them. Aang got to do some proper Avataring. Katara and Toph got to exercise their bending muscles. I'm not surprised that Toph was absent for much of the middle of the episode, because - let's be honest - given the right tools, Toph would have finished the Drill in one move. And then they'd be out of episode.

Actually, Mai got to have a personality beyond Too Bored To Live this episode. This is probably the most personality I've seen out of her so far. She's much more expressive when she's with just Ty Lee, rather than Ty Lee and Azula.

And Zuko! Had! Common! Sense! Iroh had to be a dumbass for Zuko to shine, but Zuko was, once again, the most reasonable character in his little B plot. For future reference: If you want to make Zuko reasonable, all you have to do is nerf his uncle and juxtapose him with a terrorist.

I loathe Jet. Always have, probably always will. But I'm still disappointed in him. His 'turning over a new leaf' - if it was sincere at all - lasted like 10 on-screen minutes. I feel sorry for Smellerbee and Longshot. I don't think their faith in their glorious leader is going to be repaid. He seems to brush off Smellerbee's opinions.

The strangest thing this episode was how few lines Azula had. I guess maybe they were using silence to try to show how calculating and collected she is compared to others, but honestly my first thought was that the voice actress had something going on. A cold? A previous engagement? It felt really weird to hear her speak so little, since previous episodes have shown she's not averse to gloating and dramatic monologues. She didn't even have much in the way of facial expressions.

I think the winners this episode were Mai, who got to have a personality; Zuko, who got a turn with the brain cell; and Aang, who got to work out pretty much all the bending he knows so far and successfully Avatar.

I did notice with some of the shots of Aang moving the big boulders the idiots were chucking down, that there was a kind of fuzziness to the air between Aang and what he was moving. Was I seeing the actual bending energy (Chi I guess) moving?

[lunartuness]

Attributes

Some short fluff I couldn't get out of my head about Vox and Alastor teasing the other for their forms. You can read on ao3 if you'd rather: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54024907

“I know you’re supposed to be a big scary Wendigo, and all.” Vox started, breaking the peaceful atmosphere between him and the radio demon. Currently they were on Vox’s sofa in his penthouse, Alastor laying with his head in Vox’s lap and enjoying the light scratches Vox was giving his ears. Or he had been, before Vox opened his big mouth. The light jazz that had been playing from nowhere came to an abrupt halt. Alastor’s ears twitched in annoyance when Vox stopped rubbing them.

“Supposed to be?” Alastor looked up through narrowed eyes, a staticky filter over his voice.

“Are, you are, of course.” Vox frantically amended, seeing the glint of sharp teeth Alastor was bearing at him. He resumed his petting quickly. “But you gotta admit, when you’re in your normal form, your deer attributes are pretty cute.”

“Oh?”

If Vox wasn’t as much of a simp he might’ve heeded the warning in Alastor’s tone. Instead, he continued on, never one to turn down an invitation to gush about the other. “I mean, your soft fuzzy ears you can’t fully control” Vox spoke fondly, idly scratching in a spot he knew Alastor couldn’t resist, eliciting a pleased hum from the deer despite himself. “Your tiny cute antlers make you look absolutely darling, and that sweet little tail you hide away certainly-”

Vox suddenly found himself unable to speak, quite literally. Alastor sat up from his lap, grinning cruelly at the now annoyed TV.

“Your attributes make me rather fond of you as well, love.” He laughed at the mute sign covering Vox’s mouth.

A grumpy Vox glared back at him. Subtitles filtered across the bottom of his screen. “I gave you that remote as a sign of trust you asshole.”

“And I let you play with my tail as a sign of trust, seems like we were both fools, no?” Alastor said with no real heat behind it.

The two glared in standoff, just long enough for Alastor to consider unmuting Vox when the other lunged.

He pounced onto his prey, catching Alastor so off guard he couldn’t help the nervous little grunt he made or the way his ears folded down and his tail shot fully up and alert (for a fucking herd that didn’t exist, one day he’d finally cut that monstrosity off).

Vox grinned victoriously, easily flipping the wide-eyed deer beneath him so he could tug and play with that oh so adorable tail he loved. Just because he was muted doesn’t mean both of them had to be silent, he figured.

Alastor allowed it for a minute, rolling his eyes and thankful he couldn’t see whatever nonsense Vox was surely spewing across his screen instead of his usual very vocal tirade. He really should mute the other more often. Still, he indulged the TV, giving in to the little moans and sighs he felt compelled to make, even letting his tail wag as it pleased when he usually tried (and admittedly failed) to control it.

Thinking he’d be rewarded for his polite behavior somehow, it wasn’t until Vox yanked particularly hard on both his tail and ears that Alastor suddenly switched their positions, patience having run out. It seemed Vox needed a reminder of who he was truly playing with.

Vox felt himself slam into the sofa with a jolt hard enough to make his screen glitch briefly. Radio static flooded his senses and the interference from that alone was enough to make him dizzy. Sharp claws sunk into his shoulders as Alastor loomed above him, antlers wide and teeth bared in a painful looking grin. Radio dials overtook his eyes as he cracked his elongated neck, looking for all the world like he was about to devour Vox. Right. Wendigo.

Alastor lunged, stopping his teeth an inch away from Vox’s delicate and exposed wiring at his throat, causing the other to flinch. “You know,” He spoke roughly, static warping his voice into something truly sinister, “I really do wonder what would happen if we tore some of these out.” He laughed darkly and for a second Vox thought he was actually going to find out when instead he was met with a simple kiss to his throat.

“Perhaps an idea for another day though.” Alastor said cheerfully, back in his normal form and sitting up with a wide grin, enjoying the shaky dazed look his partner beneath him had.

Unmuting Vox, he nuzzled the others neck again, careful of his antlers as he showed his affection.

Beneath him, Vox let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding (not that he even needed to breathe).

“You’re one fucking creepy-ass cryptid, you know that right?” He spoke with resignation, begrudgingly arching his neck and exposing it more to allow the other to scent properly.

“Mm, and that is why you love me, my dear.” Alastor spoke happily, still licking and nipping lightly at his partner’s wires, careful not to apply too much pressure.

“Yeah, I guess.” Vox sighed, relaxing into the touch and letting the moment end in peace.

“Your tail is still the fucking cutest thing ever though.”

Both deer and TV felt a light shock when Alastor bit down hard enough to cut through one of the wires. It was fine, though. They both knew it wasn’t one of the important ones anyways.

[rae-gar-targaryen]

swallow you like sunshine when i smile [mickey “fanboy” garcia x fem!reader]

A/N: For Fanboy’s fangirls, I present some reunion sweetness with Fanboy and his cielita linda. Thanks for your patience. More fanboy is coming soon! (Remember, reblogs make the world go round!)

Pairing: Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia x fem!reader aka Fanboy x Cielo (no use of y/n – my readers are written ambiguous, but with a latinx!reader in mind.)

Word Count: 8.6k (WHY OH MY GOD THIS WAS JUST SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE 2K OF SMUT NONSENSE) of reconciliation, of promises, of cotton candy clouds and sweet nothings that mean just about everything.

Warnings: My writing is its own warning, smut, so 18+ ONLY – p in v sex, the vaguest bit of somnophilia, the vaguest bit of breeding kink, touching, biting, vaginal fingering, oral sex (fem!receiving), my usual odd attempts at dirty talk, the barest hint of angst.

Summary: When all the drowsy metaphors about love and fruit have been peeled and devoured, there's just you, your love, a bowl full of summer peaches,  two parentheses with nothing in between (just space) ...for the tongue's imagination. AKA you reunite with your love Mickey on his leave. He’s intent on making up for lost time with you. Every moment with him feels like home.

--

The line crackled in your ear. A tangible noise, a manifestation of the distance and the dated technology that separated you. 

He was calling you from a landline. In some distant airport you weren’t sure you were allowed to know exactly where… But the words before the pause, before the crackle, had made your heart leap in your chest. 

He was coming home. 

“Did you hear me, cielo?” His voice was soft, murmured through the lines and slightly garbled, towers, oceans, and mountains between you. From his mouth, across countries, to your waiting ears. Always low, keeled, and beautiful. No exception, even in spite of the transatlantic call.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I can’t wait, Mickey. I can't wait to see you." 

He can't help himself. He smiles into the receiver, though you aren't there to see it. He knows you'll hear it in his voice, picture this exact smile as the one he reserves for you, graces you with it whenever he sees you.

"Hasta entonces, mi alma."

—

"You're walking a little taller than usual," Reuben teases, walking in stride with his co-pilot up the ramp and into the airport’s gate area. "Excited to see anyone in particular?"

Mickey scoffs, rolling his eyes at his partner, nudging him with a teasing elbow as they close the distance between their plane and the gate. “Don’t hate, I’m sure she’ll give you a hug, too, Payback.” 

“I’m just saying, man, you’re glowing. Isn’t he glowing, Bradshaw?,” Reuben asks.

“Radiant,” Rooster snickers from somewhere over Mickey’s shoulder. “Practically skipping.”

Reuben takes the moment to hold up his phone and take a quick snap of Mickey’s face as evidence. “See? Goofy-happy. Aaaaaand that one’s going on the story,” he types a quick caption that Mickey is sure he’ll see later before swiping on his screen and settling his phone back into his pocket. “You’ll thank me later. You’ll have a memory of this moment to cherish forever,” Reuben’s eyes flash, face lighting up with his toothpaste-ad smile.

Mickey grins at his partner’s antics, playfully flipping him the bird and shoving him once more as they walk through the sliding glass doors and into the gate area with the rest of the Dagger squad, careful not to crush the small bunch of fiery, sunset-hued marigolds clenched in his fist. His gift to you. A paltry peace offering for all of his time away, he thinks, but they’re your favorite flowers. And fitting.

Marigolds represent power, inner-strength, remembrance. 

And not just anyone would wait for him as you have, he thinks. Not any woman would have that fortitude. And you’re his own personal sun, fiery as the blooms in his hand. His day rises and sets on you – the first and last thing to cross his mind each day – especially when he’s away. And he’s thrilled, it’s true. Here he is, seconds away from seeing you,  from having you back in his arms … when an unwelcome little twinge of anxiety shoots through his chest, splicing his ribs to take root somewhere to the right of his heart. 

What if you weren’t there? What if you’d changed your mind? What if it was all too much? What if, what if, what if  — 

“M!” 

All feelings of anxiety are banished at the sound, and Mickey can’t help himself… The happy shriek shatters his thoughts. 

Mickey looks up from the flowers he’s clutching just in time to catch the veritable blur that is you as you jump into his arms and lock your ankles around his waist, burying your face into his neck. The telltale wobble of posterboard met his ears as you dropped the sign you had been carrying, letting it sweep to the floor in favor of twining your arms around his neck. 

The force of your body against his was a welcome jolt. And Mickey was alight. Elated at the feel of your person against his once more. If it wasn’t for you in his arms, keeping him to the earth, he thinks he might just float away back into the skies he’s just left. 

But you were always good at that – making him feel simultaneously good and grounded, while also feeling like he swims amongst clouds. One of your many confounding abilities, he supposes.  

He feels the quick press of your lips to his neck as you’ve burrowed there, and it’s like lightning has cracked through his body at the site, your lips like silken petals along his skin that result in tingling peals. Another confounding thing. Always novel, even if he's felt them on his body hundreds of times. Never enough. Never, ever enough. 

Quick as you’d kissed his neck, you untuck yourself from the space beneath his jaw, reveling in the feel of his warm palms bracing against you, keeping  you aloft, as you untwine your arms from their wrapped bow around his shoulders. Electing instead to cup the sharp curve of his jawline. And allowing yourself to truly take in the face of your beloved, the man you've missed for months on end…

Allowing yourself to recognize his eyes, swimming in warmth and mirroring your own enthusiasm (you hoped). To trace the features of his face, the curves and angles of his jaw, his cheeks – prominently angled as his mouth curved into a grin.

Granting yourself just a moment longer to bask in the radiant sunlight of your beloved’s smile, equal only to the summery golden-warmth of his honeyed eyes. For what was one more moment when you’d spent so many apart?

And you were glad you had. For you were sure your smile mirrored his own in enthusiasm, though few could smile as brightly as Mickey Garcia.

You trace the curve of his fine-boned cheeks with your thumbs before finally, finally allowing your lips to meet his own.

It’s a feeling he’s gone months without, wants to bottle. Like cheap, sticky soda kisses on a summer’s day at the beach – orange syrup and sunshine promise. Or the feeling of dragging your fingers through warm, soft sand … tingling and comforting, silken. Of the sagebrush scent of summer rain, clean and clear, sharp and sweet. Of sunsets and summer peaches, hued and happy. 

He’s just as lost in the feeling of you, as you are in the feeling of him, your lips brushing as though they’ve always been meant for the other’s, facile and complete. His plush lower lip finds its way between yours, and he allows his mouth to smile (always, always smiling with you, isn’t he?) against yours.

As for you …It wasn’t fair, really, how he always made you feel as though you were adrift in the blue-green depths of the ocean. Untethered in cool depths, save for the feel of his hands, his arms wrapped around you – your soul escaping to the sea, ever beneath his blue skies as you found yourself reunited with your aviator. 

Far, far too soon, your lips part. And was the resulting sigh yours? His? Or collective and colloquial, the both of you finally relieved? In tandem. 

“You’re here,” you breathe against his lips, your forehead resting against his. “You’re actually here.” 

“I’m here, cielo,” he murmurs, lips perpetually curved into a smile as they meet yours once more.

A wolf-whistle cracked through the air and the moment, causing you to break apart from your beloved once more, a laugh slipping from your lips as as Reuben’s voice met your ears,

“Get a room, you nerds."

Brushing your nose along the slope of Mickey’s, you press your lips quickly to his once more as you slide from his arms, allowing your feet to meet the floor. Back on solid ground.  

You turn toward your approaching friend, and the current source of your playful ire, swatting Reuben’s arm before he swept you into a hug. 

“Good to see you back, Reuben,” you say, his frame dwarfing your own as he gave you a playful squeeze. 

“You too, pequeña,” he smiles as you wrinkle your nose at this – Mickey and Javy’s ‘little’ nickname for you having stuck, apparently. “You didn’t have to rush to him so quickly, ya know? You could’ve hid a bit. Taken your time, made him sweat. He needs to be humbled,” the teasing lilt of Reuben’s voice warm and pleasant to your ears.

“Don’t be cruel,” you chide your friend. “Or I’ll stop sending you sheet-masks.” 

The pilot drew his hand to his heart, as though shot. “Don’t hurt me,” he gasps. “You know it doesn’t have to be like that.” He glances a wink at Mickey over your shoulder as you giggle at his antics.

“Don’t worry, Payback, you know I come bearing gifts.” And you’re rummaging through your purse now, finding the orange-red wrapper you were searching for. 

It crinkled as you withdrew it from your purse and dropped into Reuben's waiting hand – a 100 Grand bar. A running joke between the two of you at the expense of his callsign. 

“Don’t spend it all in one place, babe,” you reminded as you also plucked a folded piece of notebook paper from your bag and slipped it in his hand to join the candy bar. 

Reuben smiled at the sight of the cartoonized version of himself you had sketched onto the paper – a battle-ready look on his little likeness’s face as he flew their spaceship into a dotted, sketched little asteroid field. 

“The next edition of ‘Fanboy & Payback?’” he asked, mouth quirked. 

“Just a little sneak peek at what awaits them next,” you shrugged, glancing over his shoulder and raising your hand in a small wave as Javy, Natasha and Bob walk by. "The two of you have to blast your way outta that asteroid field to escape the wretched Florgs. Think you're game, ace?"

Reuben laughed.

"Always," he breezed, his confidence seamless, as easy as breathing. Though you knew he'd approach real danger as smoothly, as boldly as your proposed, fictional peril.

You patted his hand that clutched your gifts.

"Thank you, Reuben," you murmur, locking eyes with your love's co-pilot – who, in many ways, felt like he was your co-pilot, too. Your voice cracked with the burbling brook of welled emotion inside of you – the feelings of fear every time you say goodbye clashing like waves with the feeling of relief that your beloved was back, safe before your very eyes.

 "Thanks for keeping him safe up there. And getting him back to me. This isn't enough to say thank you, but …" when had your eyes started welling?

"Hey," Reuben sweeps you into another hug, "it's nothing, alright? We keep each other safe. Nothing to get bent outta shape about, okay?”

You nodded, Reuben patting your shoulder as he releases you. Mickey, ever-patient as you greeted his friend, is quick to fill the space, pulling you into his side with an arm over your shoulder.

“Thanks, pequeña. It’s good to see you. Do me a favor and keep an eye on this one for me while he’s home, yeah?” Reuben juts his chin in Mickey’s direction before leaving the two of you with a departing smile, already unwrapping the chocolate bar you had gifted him. 

“I won’t let him out of my sight, sir,” you called after him, mock-saluting, before turning and burrowing into Mickey’s waiting arms once more, greeted with the sight of a bunch of orange-hued blooms held in fine-boned hands. 

“For me?”

Mickey’s nodded, offering you the fiery marigolds, insides warming at the look of adoration on your face at his gift.

“Thank you, my love,” you murmured. “They’re perfect.” You took the hued florals in a bunch and held beneath your chin to frame your face, striking a bit of a pose for your beloved. “How do I look?” 

“Like an angel, mi alma,” Mickey smiled, admiring the sunset-hue of the petals against your skin, its contrast to your smile. How had you only been back in his arms for mere minutes, and it’s enough to make him feel like he’s never left? That’s the atmospheric pull of you, he supposes. So like his very own sky. 

You’ve wrapped your arms around his neck once more, reveling in the feeling of him against you, thanking him for the flowers and basking in this moment together, when…  

“Told ya,” Rooster whispered into Mickey’s ear as he breezed by the two of you, “Marigolds are her favorite.” 

Mickey nodded in thanks at his friend as he passed. 

“Good call,” he mouthed. 

Rooster grinned before plucking his aviators from the front of his uniform and sliding them up the bridge of his nose, 

“Adios, you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

You waved at Rooster’s exit, gently holding the flowers as Mickey slung an arm over your shoulder, his duffel in the other.

You bent quickly to scoop up the absconded posterboard, tucking it beneath your arm and tucking yourself back into your boyfriend’s side.

“What did it say?” Mickey raised a brow at you, nodding to the posterboard under your arm. Was that the Star Trek font? 

“Ah,” you shook your head in mild embarrassment, flourishing the board before the two of you with a hollow, reverberating wobble to allow him to see your greeting of “World’s Sexiest Pilot!” in loud, block letters that did indeed match the Star Trek font – and matched his helmet, in screaming electric blue, embellished with silver streaks.

“It’s a bit much now that I look at it,” you lamented with a sigh. “But I know how the guys get. Egos, and all. I didn’t want there to be any question that it was for you.” You were adorably sheepish about it.

Mickey, meanwhile, tossed his head back with a laugh.

“It’s great, baby,” he reassured, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Though you’re right. Hangman would definitely ignore the design if he thought you meant him.” 

“Oh, well, if you think Hangman would like it…” you made to leave Mickey’s hold, making a show of looking around for Hangman, only to turn back to your besotted boyfriend, shrugging in feigned resignation and easing back beneath his arm. “Don’t see him. Guess you’ll do,” you pecked a kiss to his cheek, your own insides warming in kind as you delightedly take in the flush that blooms across the apples of his cheeks.

Mickey guided you toward the airport’s exit, savoring the feel of your side pressed to his once more as you walked, steps in-tandem as always. 

“Let’s go home,” he whispered into your ear. “I can think of a few things I don’t think Rooster would do that I’d sure like to.” 

–

If you had thought your greeting for your longtime boyfriend was enthusiastic, your golden retriever had put you to shame. Artoo had bowled Mickey over the moment he stepped through the door. 

“It’s my fault,” you choked through your giggles as your boyfriend looked up at you from his place on the floor, as your dog relentlessly endeavored to clean Mickey’s ears. “I told him you were coming home today. And you know that I think he can understand us.” 

It was silly, Mickey thought, watching you watch him play with the dog, to have been worried in the first place. The anxiety of traveling, of seeing you again after so long. The annoying, persistent little jab of fear that he wouldn’t be able to gel back into your lives – that he had missed too much while he was away… that you had developed a routine without him…. Learned only how to live with the absence of him instead of with him… But it was incredible, he thought – How you were able to make it all melt away as you guided him into your shared space. Into your forever home, together. 

Your beachside home smelled just as he remembered it – sun-warmed earth, coffee grounds, and the clear smell of ocean air. The accent wall in the living room was the same earthy, terra cotta color you had picked to remind yourself of gardening all year round, offset by the sweet creme color of the remaining walls and the slate blue of your overstuffed couch. The mirror that hung along one wall still caught the late afternoon sun as it poured in, dazzling the room with beams and prisms of natural light. Your laptop was set up at your workstation in the corner of the dining room table, haphazardly-tossed sketchpad teeming with design proposals. You had left the blender out on the kitchen counter, likely in your haste to get to the airport – the vestiges of your morning protein shake congealing at the bottom. It was lived-in, comfortable, comforting. A space that you had made a home, waiting for him to weave his way seamlessly into when he returned. 

“So?” you padded behind him, having left him with Artoo while you had taken his duffel to the bedroom and waited for him to kick off his boots by the sunroom door. You rested your chin on his shoulder and took in the living room from his perspective. “Does it pass inspection, Lieutenant?” 

Mickey snorted, turning and guiding your arms to wrap around his waist. “I’d need to see the rest of the premises, I think. Specifically, our bedroom?”

Our. 

You quirked an eyebrow at your boyfriend. At his sweet smile and swirling, Bambi eyes. The curls you loved to lose your fingers in, loved to braid on lazy mornings together were long-gone, shorn and replaced with a regulation buzzed-cut that you still loved, even if it meant you wouldn’t have hair to tug when… well….

And you'd pondered on the kind of love you'd read about in novels. The sort of novel a sixteen-year-old girl would sneak beneath her pillow, the better to dream of romance with. Like some sort of amorous osmosis. The fact that the man before you personified that rosy, sunny feeling you’d hoped one day to feel – that you’d found something you could recognize in another. Well, you meant to capitalize. 

“Aye, aye, sir,” you lilted, propping forward on tip-toes to brush your lips along Mickey’s. “You’re not going to make me beg for it, are you?” 

“That all depends on you, cielo,” he rumbled, taking in the sight of you before him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Now lead the way, cadet.”  

With that, he gently patted your rear, ushering you forward, down the hall on slippery-stockinged feet to your shared bedroom that he hadn’t seen in months. You were biting back your lilting, champagne giggles as he chased you down the hall, pulling you into your room with him, and toppling the two of you onto your cloud-like, powdery comforter. 

“Baby,” you gasped as Mickey rolled himself over you, meeting your lips with his own in a firm, honeyed kiss. 

This feeling, so sweet, that you could almost taste it when your beloved slipped his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss, a true saccharine sacrament. And just what type of sweet it was, and how could you describe it… 

Mickey kissed like …. Like the feeling of warm honey meeting your tongue when you take your first sip of well-loved tea. Or the feeling of sugar between your teeth as cotton candy dissolves on your tongue – cloudlike, yet textured. 

All was sunset-hued as his lips moved over yours, his hands coming up to cup your face, to trace every bit of you, to feel you as he tasted you, caging you into the cotton softness of your comforter as his warmth rolled over you like a summer storm.

And you knew he wasn’t home for good. A sad reality that made you want to savor every moment he was home with you, that made you resolved to taste him, to feel that sugared sweetness as often as you could – 

But, as your beloved trailed his hands to your hips to toy with the hemline of the soft cotton t-shirt that you had tucked into your jeans, you knew you had to stop him… at least, momentarily. Lest he get ahead of you when you had planned for your surprise. 

“Baby,” you gasped again, palms flat against the starchy front of the uniform Mickey had been traveling in, “I know you’re gonna kill me, but you have to give me a minute.” 

With that, you gently pushed, causing his warm lips to part with the skin of your neck – and when had they gotten there? 

“Cieloooo,” Mickey groaned, part in exasperation, part in warning, as his hands cupped your waist, his warm skin burning through the thin material of your t-shirt. He brought a hand back up to caress your jawline with the backs of loving fingers, elongating your neck so he could press another kiss there before tucking your chin down to allow his eyes to search your own. “What could be so important?” 

“I promise,” you skimmed your hands over his cheeks in kind, drawing him in for another full kiss before gracefully extricating yourself from beneath him. “It’s worth it. Get comfortable. I’ll be right back.” 

With that, you closed yourself into the en suite bathroom, your reunion surprise for your beloved tucked into a fabric drawstring bag you had left for the occasion.

You changed into the lacey lingerie that you pulled from the bag, shimmying your way into the straps and lace that adorned your curves. 

Once you were satisfied that everything was in place, you fluffed your hair in the mirror, eager to see your beloved’s reaction. 

Before walking through to the bedroom, you rested your ear gently along the door to see if you could hear him, only to be met with the silence of your home. 

Perhaps Mickey was patiently (impatiently) awaiting your return with a warm expanse of newly-exposed tanned skin and bated breath. Perhaps he would gasp when he saw you, bedecked in your soft, floral lace. Perhaps he would let you take control, guiding his hands to where you wanted – no, needed them most after months with nothing but your memories of him, your own hands, and the occasional clandestine, dirty FaceTime call. Perhaps he would let you ride him, his hands clasped to your hips, guiding you both to your respective peaks as his mouth trailed every part of you he could reach.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

But what greeted you on the other side of the door was not any of your supposed perhapses. 

Instead, your Mickey, having shucked his stiff uniform, which now lay pooled at the foot of your shared bed, had tucked himself into the comforter in preparation for your arrival. His bicep bulged where he had tucked his arm behind his head, all the better to see you with when you emerged from the bathroom… 

And there he was, asleep. 

You chuckled to yourself, gazing adoringly at the sweet sight of Mickey’s chest, gently rising and falling, his eyes closed, enviable eyelashes fluttering against pretty, prominent cheekbones. You  scooped his uniform quietly from the floor and into your closet hamper before turning back to him.

Funny, you thought, as you eased your way in beside him – all thoughts of racy, lacey fun with Mickey slipping from your mind as you allowed yourself to curve around him and bask in his warmth. It was funny how he called you cielo, alma, angelita… when he was the one who looked so like an angel as he slept. 

Your last thoughts were of him as you drifted off. And weren’t they always? But the very real feeling of him next to you, of his chest beneath your stretched arm, breathing easily in the restful sleep of someone comfortable at home … It was perfect. As you held him and cuddled into his side, you were struck with how this was so much better than what your mind could conjure in your nights alone. 

This was tangible, palpable, genuine. 

You closed your eyes against the late afternoon sun and allowed the warm, cinnamon scent of him to invade you, visions of marigolds and planned sunset beach picnics dancing in your head as you gave in to the static fuzziness of sleep.

–

You dreamt of him.

… Were you dreaming? Or was it real? 

He hmms into your neck through the smile you know to be there in the darkness of your bedroom – a sweet and honeyed little noise, like the tufty soft buzz of bee's wings. And there, now … you feel his lips part, warm, silken and amorous, before pressing against the column of your throat. Loving the feel of his kisses along your skin, as only his could feel. Radiant and true. You were sure it wasn’t just a dream now…

For you could feel him everywhere. Through your haze of sleep now rapidly-fading. You were swaddled in the dim lighting of the room and the veritable TV static that was the prickling vestiges of your sleep, and your own climbing, buzzing pleasure at Mickey's attentions.

Your love, on the other hand, was wide awake. Surging over you like a wave at sea, gentle at first, and then all-consuming – as though he were a slave to your moon's gravitational pull. No choice but to cover you, devour you in loving sweetness. 

His warmth surrounded you as he pressed tender kisses into whatever skin he could find in the darkness of your room during the witching hour. 

First was the skin of your wrist and the minimalist sun inked there – a tender question placed at the site of your matched dedication, something to gauge your wakefulness against his own desire. At the pleased hum emanating from your dreamy throat, he continued… trailing his way up your bared arm with intentional, insistent presses of his lips. Urging you into ever-present consciousness with his lips.

Mickey's nose skimmed the regal curve of your shoulder, along your collarbone. Delighting himself in the way your skin felt along the velvet warmth of his own – something he could never fully appreciate in the depths of his own imagination when he was away.

Nothing like the real thing, baby.

And he was content to repeat the process, allowing himself to slide down to begin anew with the skin of your hip, kissing along the ridges of your ribs and allowing himself to drown once more in the feel of you.

Was he the ocean, or were you? Desirous, greedy, wrathful as it was… 

Mickey brought himself up to you, chest-to-chest, as you stirred, reveling in the feel of your chest meeting his own with every heaving inhalation. The soft lace of your lingerie brushed his chest, catching the curves and edges of his skin, tickling and teasing as though you meant it. And perhaps you did, your smile coy, sleepy, sweet.

“Is this for me, my love?” Mickey murmured in the low-light of your bedroom, toying with the bra strap that had slid down your shoulder in your sleep, admiring the contrast of the white lace against your skin. “Te ves como un ángel.” 

“It was your surprise,” you breathed, urging yourself ever-into wakefulness as Mickey bent to kiss your neck, trailing his fingertips from your arm, over your clothed breast, and down, down, down, to rest on your hip.

Mickey's fingertips are honeyed. They drag along your skin, sticky with desire … leaving a tingling trail where he's touched you, enough to drive you to absolute madness, fully awake now. 

With no thought but the desire to see if he tastes as good as he makes you feel – thick honey and cloves, sweetly heavy when you grip his wrist and bring his fingers to your lips, taking them into your mouth – nectar. 

Mickey groans as you suck on his fingers. He is devotional, devout, and ever-enamoured with you, and if the kissing and touching to urge you into wakefulness didn’t leave him half-hard already, the sight of you, eyes heavy-lidded with sleep and stardust, lips pouty and sinful with the feel of his fingers in your mouth, warm, wet, enticing … was enough to get him the rest of the way. And it had been so long since he’d had you, how a man could be expected to wait, he didn’t know.

He smiles into your skin – million-watt, apparent to you through the curve of his lips against your skin.

"I love it. You're pretty," he murmurs. "So pretty, mi cielita linda."

You released Mickey’s fingers from your lips, pressing a kiss to his open palm, and make to guide his hand down your body, your eyes adjusted to the dark of the room now, appreciative of the curve of your love’s body above yours, the curve of his biceps, the feel of his torso against yours. And it had been so long since you’d felt his touch rather than imagined it. How you could be expected to wait, you didn’t know. The promise of his touch against your skin, of his kisses to your neck and shoulders in the darkness of your shared bedroom, was enough to dampen your panties, to urge in the slow, pulsing ache between your legs. 

You guided Mickey’s hand down to your center now, allowing his fingers autonomy to explore you. And for his part, the resulting groan Mickey emitted at the feeling of the damp fabric as he slid a finger over your clothed slit, was enough to cause you to shiver. 

Pleased with himself, and more than a little turned on, Mickey rolled his hips into the bedspread, to alleviate just a little of the tension he was feeling. The two of you had barely touched, and he was ready to bury himself in you, to die if it meant it was with you. 

Gently pushing the white lace aside, Mickey stroked his way along your now-bare slit, pleased at the way your hips involuntarily rolled into his touch, the way your chest heaved just that little bit more at his touch. 

Your silken slickness is a direct contract to the pulsing ache you feel. And he adores you, he abets you, encouraging the pent-up want with pressing, pretty kisses along the line of your throat as he eases a long finger inside of you, beckoning you to him from inside as he curls his finger, allowing you to buck yourself, your clit, against the heel of his hand, your eyes rolling back at the saintly, sinful feel of him. 

“Gotta taste you, amor,” Mickey breathed, pulling down the lacey cups of your bra to kiss along your breasts, sucking your nipple into his mouth as his fingers continued to play with your center. 

You arched your back, urging him down as he kissed his way down your torso, awash in intentional adoration. Chuckling at your chagrin as he withdrew his fingers from your center to pull your panties down your legs, kissing your hipbones as he went.

“Don’t worry,” he soothed, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Mickey rewarded your (im)patience as he kissed along your thighs, the oceanic pull of you rendering him senseless in his singular desire as he urged himself closer, closer to your center, caught in your orbit, the waves of your desire (or were they his own?) washing over him as he kissed you.

You yelped at a particularly invested nip of his teeth against the skin of your thigh.

"Sorry, sorry, amor," he breathed, sweeping an apologetic brush of his lips over the offending spot, not-so-secretly marveling at the minor indentations of his teeth now adorning the fullness of your thigh – all glittering, mischievous nightsky eyes in the low light of your bedroom. Another sincere, soft kiss to the spot, belying his remorse. "We can stop if you want."

"D-don't you dare."

It was so easy, Mickey thought, to give you what you wanted. To kneel before you and acquiesce to your every demand – simply because you didn’t demand. 

It was easy for him to, he knew, when your gratitude was reflected in starry, wan eyes as you gazed down at your beloved, your expression one of idle worship that he drank in. 

It was easy, when you asked so pretty, breathy moans of “please, please, please,” meeting his ears as though you were inside of his mind. 

It was easy, because you were beautiful. And beautiful people have a way of getting what they want, and Mickey understood you were beautiful – made beautiful as you were, and moreso, if he asked you, because he loved you. 

It was easy, Mickey knew, so easy to give you anything you wanted  … simply because he would do anything for you.

Mickey gripped your thighs now, pushing them apart to better bare yourself to him. He buried himself in the cleft of your thighs, the flash of his hot tongue like electrostatic shock, jolting through you from the very center as he licked a long, loving stripe along the seam of your cunt. 

And if you’d thought the first taste of his mouth on you was heavenly – And how was that, when it was him who was tasting you? You were falling in love with him all over again, with every bit of attention he showered you with as he licked you, wriggling his finger once more inside of you and rendering you senseless at the feeling of him pulling you into his depths. 

The feel of him was like the slow drip and drizzle of honey in tea – warm, sweet, tingling. 

Your fingers scraped their way along his scalp, lamenting once more the lack of hair to tug. Nevertheless, your keening moans in the room sounded unfamiliar to your own ears, but you knew, distantly, that they were coming from your own mouth, building within the finite space of your room as Mickey urged you closer, closer to your peak. 

And the feel of his mouth, of his fingers, is divine… wretchedly and wrathfully so. You cursed your own fingers in comparison, cursed the ache you felt in the months of his absence, for they could never quite match the exquisite feel of his. And yet, and yet, and yet…

It wasn’t enough. 

You needed more. As your chest heaved in tortuous pleaser, as you groaned at his attentions. You realized –

You need all of him.

“Mi cielita linda,” Mickey breathed, sitting back on his heels and taking your thighs with him in warm, prayer-like palms, to continue to press kisses to your legs. "I'm wild for you, amor … Does it feel good? When I touch you like this?" 

A villain.

“Please, M,” you keened at Mickey’s tickling kisses. “Please. I c-can’t… I need you.”

He chuckles darkly, like the slow pour of golden-dark, honeyed syrup, slow, low, and full of the promise of something.

"You're sweet," he murmurs into your thigh, trailing his lips to where he knows you want him most, before withdrawing once more. "So sweet."

With that, he releases your thighs, guiding them down to the soft bedspread on either side of him as he lifts himself to his knees, sliding his boxers down his legs and slipping out of them. You made to assist, slipping your hands down your body and to your center, gathering some of your own slick onto your fingers and onto Mickey’s hardness, stroking him with the evidence of your own desire, reveling in the choked noise that caught in his throat. The way his eyes fluttered shut as he paused in his movements.

“Goddamn, cielo,” He surged forward, caging you with his strong arms as he fell forward, capturing your lips with his own, the taste of you as much a tease as his own mouth. 

Mickey broke from you far too soon, as you continued to work him, leaning past you to your bedside to shuffle in the drawer for a condom when you stopped him.

“It’s fine, baby,” you assured, urging him back to you as you wrapped your legs around his tapered waist, your hand cupping his jaw and guiding his lips to yours once more.

“Are you sure, baby?” He asked, wanting to make sure he understood your intention behind the decision to forego protection. 

“Of course, corazón,” you assured. “I just want to feel you."

And you didn’t have to tell him twice. 

"Have I told you today I love you?" he asked, aligning himself with your entrance, teasing you with his length along your slit and causing you to buck, chuckling at your impatience, your impertinence. That wild streak he loves so much. 

“I love you,” you urged. “Now, please, M, c’mon. Don’t you wanna show me how much you missed me?” 

And that did it.

Mickey slid himself into you, rejoicing in the slick feel of you, in the snug warmth of your tightness, ever as though you were made for him as he began to thrust into you, measured, keeled. In the way he knew you liked. 

"Shit, baby," Mickey groaned. "Fuck."

And he’s so desperate, desperate to feel some part of you that he’d mimic whatever gets him closest. But he needn’t mimic. Because, truly, there was nothing like the real thing. Like the very real feel of you wrapped around him, squeezing him ever-tighter.

Of the feel of your thighs around his waist, your ankles locking behind him, urging him for more, more. Your nails along his back, and your breathy moans in his ear, begging, begging – he swears, for him to fuck you harder.

“Oh, fuck, you undo me, Mickey,” you sighed, relishing in the honey warmth languidly sweeping its way through your veins with each of his thrusts. Following the swirling pathway of Mickey’s attentions, the heated, silken traipse of his body along yours, inside of yours.

And Mickey whispers in your ear, incoherent, dirty little nothings as he fucks into you, his body curled over yours, one hand on your neck, his face pressed into the side of yours and his full lips gently brushing the shell of your ear.

And you were an angel, the way you took it, took him. A silver-screen siren, a hazy dream, sent straight from the kind of grainy, overfiltered pretentious indie flicks he'd loved in college. 

Mickey’s thrusts urged you closer, ever closer to the edge as he rolled his hips into yours, the thrust-and-drag of him heavy inside of you, his fingers circling your clit as you resorted to incoherent murmurings for “more.” 

Selfishly, you prayed, he’d give you an ache you'll remember long after he leaves again – never mind the one in your heart that's sure to follow– but you couldn’t dwell on that now as the staticy pleasure of your orgasm started to sweep through you, tingling your toes to your scalp.

You felt your release surging through you, a wave of pleasure pulling you back to your love, his arms wrapped around you just as you tightened around him with a sweet sigh, his tongue sweeping into your mouth as he kissed you, coaxed you through it. 

His own release followed after  the feel of him emptying himself inside of you one you would never tire of, the anchoring sound of his satisfied groan like music to your ears as you guided him to rest alongside you, pleased at the sweat-sheen glow adorning his warm, tanned skin. Pressing a kiss to his bicep, his neck, and his lips once more.

Out of habit, you made to sweep his hair from his eyes, the soft pads of your fingertips meeting the side of his face instead, admiring every inch of your man in the low light of your bedroom.

"You've got galaxies in your eyes, love," you whispered to him, your thumb brushing a soothing, sweeping line over Mickey's prominent cheekbone. “Always in the sky.”

“Yeah?” he breathed back, his eyes sweeping your face, taking you in in-kind. “You have the sea in yours.” He brought your wrist to his mouth to place another kiss to the sun there. “I’m sorry I fell asleep before. I'll make it up to you tomorrow once I’ve had my coffee.”

You tore your wrist away gently to swat his bicep, the little thwack resounding in the relative silence of your bedroom. 

“Oh, don't be silly,” you chided. “You know you were good.” 

“Oh yeah?” Mickey puffed his chest a bit, pleased at your praise. “Then I’ll take power-naps every time before.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you told him. Noting his hum of agreement. 

–

You lie together, Mickey in your arms, legs tangled, as you gently scraped your nails over his scalp. 

“The curls, I miss,” you confessed, the tickling buzz of short hair a strange prickle against the pads of your fingertips. “But this is cute, too.” 

Mickey’s eyes were closed at your attentions, contented. You were almost certain he was moments away from purring like a large jungle cat, a panther, with inky dark hair and eyes made for targeting its prey (he was good at that, after all, being a WSO…). 

“Glad to know you approve, seeing as I didn’t have much of a choice,” Mickey sighed, taking the opportunity to admire your features in the soft lamplight of your bedroom, the two of you caught in the witching hour, the lurch of a late-night-come-early-morning – grey skies dotted with the final holdouts of twinkling, winking stars. 

“Does your C.O. know how cute you look with the curls, though?” you pondered. “Should I write to my congressman?” 

“You’re too much, cielo,” Mickey hummed, his lips turning in a half smile as he gazed up at you in moonlight adoration.

“You love it though,” you replied, bending to press a kiss to his cheek, your hands never ceasing in their movements.

“I do,” Mickey groaned in satisfaction at a particularly rewarding scrape of your nails through his cropped hair. “I hope our kids end up with one-tenth of your tenacity – ready to take on the entire U.S. Navy over a haircut.” 

You brought your hands down from his scalp to his shoulders, kneading the muscles there as he rested against you. What he assumed was a gift for him – the massage– truly a gift for you, as you took every opportunity to feel his skin against yours. A reminder that he was here. He was home. 

You quirked your lips as you worked.

“Our kids, huh?” You queried. “And when is this happening?” 

“As soon as you’ll let me,” he laughed, the radiance of his smile a secondary source of light in your bedroom, blindingly dazzling, as always. “If it’s a boy, he’ll be a Jedi like his father before him,” he said, voice bold, assured.

“You seem to have thought a great deal about this. And this boy’s name?”

“Vero,” Mickey replied, not missing a beat. 

“Ah,” you kneaded a particularly stubborn knot of muscle in his shoulder, causing him to let out a deep groan. “Great hero, a warrior. Good name for a Jedi. And if it’s a girl?”

“Valencia,” he said, sitting up and turning to face you now, allowing your hands to fall from his shoulders so that he could take them in his own. “Our gift in winter. Something we’d share.” 

And you could envision it, you could. An entire life with the man before you, packing school lunches together, planning summertime road trips. Backpacks, bonfires, the whole nine yards. There was never any question that you wanted your life to enmesh with his – to share everything together. 

Still. Wasn’t it always nice to hear that he felt the same?

“I see,” you murmured, voice hitching a bit with the tenderness of the moment, “And you see that in our future, do you?”

Mickey’s eyes were dark, searching as he gazed upon you, appreciating the filtering purple-grey of twilight through your window and how it played upon your features. You truly were his dream girl. 

“Of course,” Mickey replied, voice emboldened with confidence and warmth. Pressing his lips to yours before confessing, “I’m going to marry you, cielo.” 

–

A few short hours and one doggy walk later found you and Mickey in the morning drive-through queue, waiting to pick up your coffee at the pick-up window, Artoo contentedly sprawled along the backseat, gnawing on his favorite Nyla-bone as the two of you hummed along to your current playlist. 

Mickey laced his fingers through yours, resting your joined hands on the center console as the song changed to Sam Cooke’s sweet warble, begging Cupid to pierce his lover’s heart with his arrow, promising to love her for eternity. 

“A lot of motown on this playlist,” he mused. “Any particular reason?” 

“This one,” you sighed dreamily, “… This one I made when I was thinking of you.” 

Mickey turned to look at you, the sunlight glancing off of the lenses of his flattering, wire-rimmed glasses. His worn San Diego Padres hat fit more loosely than you had remembered, thanks to his closely-cropped hair, and the distinct lack of voluminous curls that he would typically need to wrestle in order to fit the hat to his head. He smiled at your admission, sparkling and cruelly-perfect. 

“Sam Cooke makes you think of me?” 

“A lot of things make me think of you,” you retorted. “Be grateful I don’t serenade you with ‘Lovefool.’” 

“You know I don’t mind your singing, amor,” he breezed, bringing your joined hands to his lips to press a soft kiss to the back of yours. “Even if you sound like a bag of angry cats in a hurricane.” 

You arched a brow at Mickey as he took his foot off the brake, inching you forward to the pick-up window.

“I seemed to recall you saying you’d be nicer to me once you’d had your coffee,” you chided, swatting the brim of his hat and causing it to fall over his eyes.

“Well, I haven’t had my coffee yet, amor,” Mickey adjusted his brim and eased his foot onto the brake, rolling down his window before greeting the barista. “So there’s still time.”

He winked at you before collecting your coffees through the window. 

You scoffed, toggling your playlist over to Curtis Mayfield and rolling your eyes in mock-consternation at your beloved, grabbing the cup with your name on it with greedy fingers and taking a deep, appreciative sip. 

The two of you drove off in the easy silence borne of enjoying your respective beverages. 

At the next stoplight, you offered your cup to Mickey, per your tradition. The two of you swapped cups, him taking a swig of your coffee as you sipped his overly-sweetened cold brew. 

True to form, Mickey visibly grimaced at the pungent taste of hot, black coffee on his tongue, shuddering and causing you to giggle at his overwrought reaction. It never changed, and yet he insisted on sipping your extra-shot Americanos, even though he hated them.

“Cielo, I say this because I love you… Is, like, is your stomach lining okay? This is SO acidic. I just don't understand how you can drink something so bitter.”

“I have all the sweetness I need right here,” you leaned across the console to peck his cheek. "Mhmm," you nodded. "Super-sweet."

"Corny," Mickey chuckled, pressing your coffee back into your hands and navigating the two of you back home. "So, is tonight a movie night?"

"Of course," you replied. "The projector is up and ready. You decide – Alien or Predator?" 

Artoo sighs in the backseat, settling in for the drive home. 

Mickey glances over at you, savoring the sweetness of the cold brew on his tongue, though of course it has nothing on the sweetness that is you. 

On this, you both can agree – coffee is nice. But nothing quite makes you feel alive as the person next to you. 

"You're perfect, cielo."

–

Time is cruel. It passes quickly in joyful moments, slipping like cool water through cupped hands in the desert. In moments you wish would pass, it somehow stagnates, stuck like boots in mud during an uphill climb. 

Mickey’s two weeks home seemed to fly by – no pun intended, really, because you knew he’d be flying away soon. And you didn’t want to resent it. Really, you didn’t. You knew he lived to fly. When you stared at the night sky when the two of you were apart, you’d imagine him up there, watching over you. If you’d catch a falling star out of the corner of your eye, you’d wished for more time. For the sky – beautiful as it was – to stop calling your love to its endless vastness. To allow him to stay on the ground with you, for even just a touch longer.

But the sun rose and set, the same way it ever does. And it rose again on the morning Mickey was to leave. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder as the two of you lay in bed together – content to never move, to bask in this moment forever.

His words hang heavy on you, weigh even more heavily on your heart. An ache borne equally of love and pain. Of the promise of a future (which he was clearly planning for), but devoid of togetherness in the present.

"I miss you when you're gone," is all you manage to choke out, voice soft so as not to belay any of the fissures in your heart that are making their traitorous way up to your lips.

Mickey laces his fingers through yours, giving them a gentle squeeze as he pulls you back into the bed, into the warmth of his embrace.

“I know, cielo,” he sighs into your hair, gifting you with another kiss, this time to the top of your head as he takes in the warm, rosy paint of your bedroom walls. “I don’t want to go.” 

“Mickey,” you break from his hold to look at him, to cup his cheeks, the sheets swishing as you turn to face him. “Of course you do. And that’s okay. You’re supposed to love your job. And you… You’ve got your head in the clouds." 

Mickey made to protest, to tell you that he doesn’t love it more than you, when you press your finger to his lips,

“It’s okay, love. I’ll always be here when you get back. We have plans for our anniversary, remember? Disneyland.” 

Mickey had always thought you like the ocean to his sky, parallelled, but so different. Turbulent, soft. Untameable, endless. When, really, you were always with him. 

He removed your hand from his lips, gently guiding it next to his own and holding your wrists together so as to admire the two suns inked on your respective wrists. 

(“Like the twin suns of Tatooine,” Mickey had joked – quick to silence his laughing when you reminded him this was supposed to be a metaphor for your love, and did he really want to equate it to the most uninhabitable planet in Star Wars? You delicately chose to ignore Mickey’s rejoinder that Hoth was the most uninhabitable planet in Star Wars, content that your point had been taken.)  

And whether it was the suns adorning your wrists, or the bunch of fiery marigolds in water next to your bedside, or the theft of his favorite ballcap, you knew Mickey was with you each day. Even if he wasn’t. He was part of your day each day, just as you were part of his, when he affirmed –

“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Mickey rested his head against yours, eyes never leaving your wrists. “We have these because you’re in the clouds with me, remember? You're mi cielo."

--

Tagging:  @withahappyrefrain @spidervee @andallthatmishigas @thegirlwhowritesfics @xbamboowishesx @friendly-neighborhood-blondie @abibliophobiaa @clints-lucky-arrow @inklore @phoenixhalliwell @ohmagawd-life @thematthewmurdock @mrshipsmcgee @p3mybeloved @decadentpaperduck @letmeplaytheliontoo @vestrangel @moonlight-prose @aphrogeneias @levylovegood @thatredheadwriter @2clones-1kamino @zombieaurora @shadeds-library @writercole @ijustwantedplums @justalonelyslytherin @ilovepretttystuff @gretagerwigsmuse @fanboysfangirl @shakira-sasha @siriusfahey @hopefulinlove  @s-u-t @Criminalmindsandmarvel @joaquinwhorres @gingerbreadandpaper @jakexfmc @the-navistar-carol  @alexxavicry @jadore-andor @fanboygarcia @lavenderluna10 @thedaredevilsgirl @fluffyprettykitty @mickeyluvs @mothdruid  @buckyytorres ​ 

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 1/16/2024

did not commit fratricide this week but it got a little close there

listening

spotify tried to rec me some electro remix of this Eartha Kitt song i did NOT care for but i did enjoy the original Mink Schmink (YouTube). very similar to last year’s favorite Peel Me A Grape by Anita O’Day. this is a particular kind of oldies #girlboss song that i am super weak to

i also have an entire album to rec! spotify recced me a movie soundtrack by this artist and i went to check out their latest work. a very pleasant outer space themed saxophone-forward experience to enjoy while trying out a very slow video game! the opening track Chaldene will let you know pretty fast if you’ll like the whole album. bouncy, in the ways that saxophones are. very cowboy bebop soundtrack adjacent? i have a data entry playlist with many instrumental albums of long pieces for when i need really consistent vibes or vibes that change very slowly and this is going to be such a good addition

reading

feeling a little bit grim about the state of the world and long-tail reporting/continuity of knowledge, partially bc some friends got fired from the games industry and are throwing in the towel (do not blame them at ALL, also now this means i don't know anyone in the industry with more than three years of experience under their belt) and partially feeling a little bit grim bc i read an article FOREVER ago from the old motherboard team at VICE about how locations were being harvested from various religious and health apps, and FINALLY that data broker is starting to see some real consequences. the ONLY reason this reporter is still following this story/is still a reporter is bc after VICE summarily fired like half the site last year, he went off and started his own site.

grim! grim article, grim context, grim all around.

watching

i would love for my best friend's son to become obsessed with a different movie than pixar's elemental. but if this is the price of having an only semi-interrupted conversation with his mom then so be it.

playing

“sail forth” by developer Quantum Astrophysicists Guild and published by Festive Vector (pair of really killer names there) is the free epic game this week. i spent a reasonably okay hour with it but do not plan to continue further. the opening area has some problems that do not interest me in whatever this game does in the next area. tldr: the actual sailing part is fun, which is good bc it's a sailing game, but there isn't enough to Do in this adventure/exploration game and it's all really far apart.

it has a particular sensibility married with its art style that makes me say “cozy game” (derogatory). your main character is named captain toot. everyone has funky sentence structure liberally sprinkled with nautical terms that come off vaguely nonsensical instead of piratical. there are a lot of almost-kennings like “deepblue” “moontiders” “fishfolk”. things of this nature. while i do love a kenning i don’t have a lot of patience for this. which is unfortunate bc this game tested my patience in several ways.

the actual Sailing part is the best part of the game. there's some very fun weather-- i have seen light and heavy fog, light and heavy rain, and a full on thunderstorm. the fact that sailing is the best part of the game would be good except everything is VERY far apart, and while the call of a blank horizon is super important in an oceangoing game (i think) when it becomes more fun to just fast travel everywhere instead of sailing the long way, i think that’s where you have to refine some things in your game. this is less of an open world and more little pockets of things in between a truly ridiculous amount of empty space. i cannot imagine this runs in an acceptable manner on switch.

the good parts of sailing are the thoughtful controls: the compass, the wind on the compass, and the little sail trim bar. you should also keep an eye on wave direction bc that will really impact your top speed. you CAN tack back and forth directly into the wind but this game will make you fucking work for it, which i do like. i also liked sailing with the camera zoomed all the way in, it felt very fast and dangerous on the very long wait to get to the next island. and then it was no longer fun on the very long sail to get to the next island. i am almost confident these islands are procgen, it’s possible i got a weirdly big seed but i don’t care enough to fire up a new save.

the general pace of the game/this first area feels a little underbaked or weirdly optimized. i got enough wood in the first hour to upgrade to the best available one-mast sloop, i fought a pirate which required a lot of precision seamanship with my one lonely bow gun, i did a race, i declined a target practice course, i poked my head into eight different map locations. despite this variety, it all felt very samey. generally the map locations have one or two things to do plus one resource (the precision seamanship required to collect resources is fun for the first two islands but then stops being interesting) or one collectible. no one island is particularly memorable. i really loved Sunless Sea, a game that also features a large map and very slow travel, but there’s a WAY more resource management and random events, and shit is simply closer together in that game.

if i was looking for a very slow podcast game and was 20% cutesier as a person this would be ideal, but for who i am right now? not for me.

making

my siblings visited! we did not kill each other, nobody had food poisoning, and nobody died! that's all i can really ask for. here's me and my sister looking at a big quilt at the 1940 Air Terminal Museum

phil went to the emergency vet sunday afternoon bc her spay site was looking Gnarly. she either has an infection or a reaction to her sutures but the treatment is the same either way. the emergency vet said we could probably skip our normal vet visit on friday but, given that we discover a new problem every time we go to the vet, we will be keeping that appointment. all recent pics of her are smushed up on my lap at a goofy angle. have a pic of mackaroni and beans

[gaykarstaagforever]

Well! Second DMing session ended with the guy who made me do it, who was going to "help" me, hanging up on me mid-session and texting

So much for "I don't care if you don't know how to do it, I'll walk you through it," I guess.

I was very clear from the outset that I think most ttrpgs, and ALL DnD rules, are arbitrary math nonsense that you need a college course to understand, specifically created by terrible people to force everyone else to put up with their infantile, unintuitive view of the universe. I told him I hate this crap. He manipulated me into trying it anyway. Guess who hasn't changed his mind, and guess who is now throwing a temper-tantrum about it? I TOLD YOU this was a bad idea.

I read the book. The 8 books. It doesn't matter. They're math textbooks written by bad writers and my eyes kept glazing over. I don't understand why any of these rules exist. I'm just forced to memorize formulas. That I don't respect.

There is no space for reputation, or politics, or combat scenario realities, or random accidents and diseases, or genuine surprises, or living in an apathetic, living, breathing world that doesn't give a fuck about your Chosen One status. It is wizards casting fire balls, because the guy doing that hates his mom, and made up a rule set where he can play his weird stupid power fantasies. His weird, stupid, RACIST power fantasies, if this last group's predilections is any indication.

I don't have patience for this. It's arcane and unrealistic and sucks the joy out of everything and it ISN'T FUN.

If you love it, great. I'll get out of your way. But it runs counter to how my brain works and I fucking hate it. I love the idea of using dice to RP events and see what happens. But at some point of complexity you are just obeying someones precious little rule-book so obnoxious math nerds who memorized it can be smug about exploiting loopholes.

Go play a video game for that. That's not a healthy social interaction. That's yet another version of a group of fucked-up people being whiney and dogmatic about random shit they made up, specifically so they can be cool in a world they specifically designed for that purpose. And what the fuck is that? I hate them, and I hate that.

My old mantra was "nerds with math ruin everything." I was always half-joking, but only half. I have zero respect for everything this is, and what people are apparently looking for from it. It is frustrating and boring and limiting and stupid to me. I don't enjoy it. And I don't even want to ever play it again, because I dread being doomed to waste my brain power sorting out weird meta game math shit that doesn't seem to take into account any defensible simulation of actual reality.

I have spent 120+ hours over the last 5 months trying to get into this. Trying to get a handle on why people like it, to figure out the secret I am missing. I have spent stupid amounts of money on stuff, to that end.

And I either lack the 3000 IQ space brain to get it, or I absolutely get it, and I just absolutely hate it. Either way, I've had enough.

I want to do a D6 system that is just "roll against opponent, bigger number wins, DM RPs what that means." That's loose and interesting and feels like real life. The rest can go jump in the river.

"YEAH BUT THAT'S UNFAIR TO PLAYERS!"

The world is unfair to life. You're not 12 anymore. I don't get anything out of playing around in a baby world made for babies. You're just mad because it isn't going to work in your favor the way I'm proposing it.

It's like Tim Cain said about programming RNG. You give them real RNG, everyone gets mad because "it's not fair." Because RNG isn't fair. They don't want RNG, they want to be autocrats of reality, then soothe themselves that they're not in fact cheating assholes by claiming "the numbers worked out in my favor."

When the reality is that the system was specifically designed over 50+ years to give them an advantage. And that isn't RNG. That isn't playing a role. That isn't being a real hero by self-sacrificing and being randomly lucky and muddling through. It's just egotistical self-delusional nothingness.

Like, maybe these kinds of games are STILL niche things for a reason? Maybe the only really popular and profitable entries are video game and movie versions where you don't see the math, BECAUSE you don't see the math? Like I don't think I'm alone in not giving a shit about this byzantine, nerfed crap.

That doesn't make me better. Do whatever you want. But if THAT'S what you're doing, count me the fuck out.

I did my time, and I'm sick of this shit.

[gretavanlace]

Just thought I’d pop in with a quick note of thanks.

While I was on hiatus, I saw your lovely asks, and each of those messages of love and encouragement filled my heart right up. I am so lucky to have you all, and you are so very important to me. Cavity inducing sweetie pies, every last one of you.

So, again, thank you for your patience and kindness…it means the world.

I also wanted to let you know that I’m back on track and you’ve got brand new nonsense heading your way, so look out.

First up, we’ve got Josh with Valtava (if you look up the translation of this Finnish word, you may just stumble upon a hint. Other than that, I’m staying cryptic). This should be ready, posted and waiting for you no later than Wednesday

Then we have Welcome to Hell (jakey) waiting in the wings.

And finally for the month of June, a pivotal chapter of Poppins

Thank you for always bearing with me, I promise to (hopefully) never keep you pacing the widow’s walk ever again

💋 xoxo

[soleilnomoon]

hiii may i request cotton candy, frozen yogurt, lemondrop, donut hole, and cream puff with whipped cream and caramel as toppings? for law from one piece, tyia i love your works! 🫶

hello, hello ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა thank you for reading my work 💛💕and ty for your patience! i had a lot of fun with this one, bc i love seeing law suffer <3

2.1k, gn reader (no pronouns), nsfw, 18+, mdni; tiny bit of angst, there's fluff somewhere i promise, & smut. law is a lil needy & sees the light™ & reader likes to ignore their feelings abt things; feat. only one bed trope, oral (m receiving), mutual pining, all that good stuff. they're both stubborn af tbh.

despite not actually caring about the matter, despite feeling a little relieved that you came to him for help, he still manages to grit out, “please explain to me why any of this is my problem?”

if looks could kill, trafalgar law would’ve been six feet under since the moment he found you making coffee in the kitchen. you glance over your shoulder once, shoot him a look that tells him he should stop talking, like, right now, and continue to keep your back turned to him. you bravely ignore the inclination to go back and forth with him, and butter your toast quietly, hoping he’ll stop pestering you long enough to finish your breakfast.

“i could just set up a cot for you in the hallway and call it a day.” his suggestion is ludicrous, and he knows it; he simply wants to see your reaction, a deep-seated desire to see the crack in your facade finally resurface after many, many weeks. you’re quite good at that, at masking your emotions — possibly even better than him — but it’s a difficult task, one that you struggle with daily. there are moments when he is genuinely sweet — they’re rare, but they exist; and there are moments where you want to rip his head off and yell until your face turns red (and it won’t, not really).

a huff glides out of your mouth and you turn around to face him properly. “you will not,” you say confidently as he sits languidly in a chair, legs spread wide, as if he has all the time in the world to talk to you. “also stop trying to piss me off, i know what you’re doing. it won’t work.” you’re very certain about that, actually; you raise a brow at him, as if you’re daring him to contradict your statement. “we need the extra room, besides you barely sleep as is, you won’t miss your bed at all.” it’s really because law is particular about who occupies his space; and since the polar tang is housing some unexpected guests — castaways that needed safe harbor to the nearest island — you volunteer for them to use your room temporarily. which means you need somewhere to stay.

no one else has the audacity to volunteer to room with their captain, but you’re a little different than the rest, aren’t you? he enjoys your presence more than he lets on, likes hearing you talk about nonsensical things like dreams and desires, likes the way you’re easily riled up — and he doesn’t actively try to do it on purpose, not really, anyway. you boldly told the others that you’d just sleep in your captain’s room, since he barely uses the bed as is. the others shared looks with one another, ones where they tried to contain their i told you so expressions. you ignore that and the way your face heats up at their insolence and move some of your things into law’s room for the time being.

law holes up in his office for most of the day, going on his third day of not sleeping, and while he knows it’s not practical to stay up like that, he can’t help himself. eventually, fatigue does find him, grips him by the throat and hauls him over to his room — he doesn’t bother fighting it. freshly showered and too tired to care, he thought you’d be asleep by now, but you’re wide awake. it’s nearly impossible to fall asleep like this — law’s bed is big and wide, leaving you with more space than you know what to do with. it also smells like him. and even though you wish that the scent was unpleasant, you know it’s a fruitless endeavor, because he always smells good. so you sit up when you hear him open the door, mouth hanging open to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.

for some reason, dealing with law during the day is vastly different than dealing with him at night. there’s more intimacy involved with the latter, since your crew mates are asleep or resting somewhere, leaving you to deal with law on your own. wordlessly, he climbs onto the bed with you, opting to lie on his side with his back facing you. despite how tired he is, he also can’t fall asleep just yet. he can tell you’re burning to say something slick, so he beats you to it.

“it’s really not a big deal,” he says with a yawn before rolling onto his back. “the bed’s big enough for both of us.” he closes his eyes, determined to use whatever remaining energy he has to will himself to sleep. your presence is overwhelming, though, a heat rippling underneath his skin, making him clench his jaw to dismiss those feelings — the ones where he wants to pull you on top of him and hold you close. your eyes never leave his face and instead of fight him on it, a sigh coasts out of your mouth — resigned, yet a bit hopeful.

he glances at you suddenly, startling you out of your thoughts; your heart racing as you swallow back your bravery and scoot back a bit. “w-what?” you ask, hands clutching one of the pillows in front of you — as if it can protect you from whatever he’s preparing to say next.

“you’re looking at me.”

you stare at him wide-eyed, pillow pressed firmly against your body; whatever argument you tried to build quickly shatters the moment his dark amber eyes sweep over you — taking in the thin shirt and shorts you’re wearing — and render your brain absolutely useless. so you blink and blink, hoping to scrape together some words that sound appropriate enough to say.

“they’re my eyes, am i not allowed to?”

you could kick yourself for your foolishness, but instead you toss the pillow at his face when you see that damn trademark smirk of his climb onto his lips. he doesn’t know what possesses him, but he laughs at your antics and, invigorated by your uncanny ability to bring out his playful side, pulls you close. with your chest pressed against his, you inhale deeply and regret it immediately — you’ll never be free of him at the rate you’re going.

“if all you want to do is look, then by all means,” his lips brush against yours as he says that, long limbs tangling with yours when you give in and finally let go. the last time you kissed him, it was in the heat of the moment, and you’d slapped him for it afterward — because you couldn’t handle any of the vulnerability involved. he’d laughed at your reaction, mostly because the slap was harmless, and he barely felt the sting and only laughed again when you ran away. law told himself back then that he’d just wait until you were ready before pouncing again.

this time, however, is different. very, very different.

your tongue flicks against his upper lip, soft enough to make him grab you by the back of your neck and drop heated kisses on your lips. you’re too flustered to function, but you’re cognizant enough to kiss him back, returning each of his heated kisses with needy ones of your own. tongue swirling hotly around his, you roll so you’re on top, teeth nipping his lip as you straddle him. you pull back to look at him, eyelids lowering as you roll your hips and grind down on his growing erection. his hands grip your hips tightly to halt your movements, and you smile down innocently at him.

“you…,” he grits out, breathes through his nostrils, and starts again, “if you like me, you can just say that, y’know.” it’s presumptuous, he knows, but he also knows that if he doesn’t back you into a corner properly, you’ll weasel away quickly. and he can’t have that — not now. an ache bubbles deep inside of you, making your skin feverish, so you buck your hips against his a few times. he stares at you darkly, a forbidden sort of hunger taking hold of his thoughts, and his large hands grab onto your ass firmly, a shudder coursing through you at the contact.

“shut the hell up,” you say in lieu of the confession he failed to drag out of you, “you’re talking way too much right now.” because talking means you’ll fall into a trap and you’re not equipped to fight him just yet. so, you wiggle out of his grasp and pull his underwear off. he props himself up to look at you, almost asking if you’re sure, but ultimately shutting up when you grab his stiff length and slowly drag your tongue along the tip. an involuntary hiss flies out of his mouth, but you’re too preoccupied with tasting him to notice. to say he’s dreamt of this moment would be an understatement; watching you talk, drink, and eat only fueled his fantasies late at night.

not religious by any means, he swears he’s having some sort of a spiritual awakening — or something close to it — when your plush lips wrap around the head of his cock, tongue licking and swirling before you open your mouth more. he lets out a soft, “fuck” and strokes your hair as you take in more of his cock, bobbing up and down, tongue flat against his length. unlike you, when he’s pushed to this point, he can’t control himself or his movements. his hips jut forward and you gag a bit, tears prickling your eyes; you use your hands to stroke and twist around the rest of his length as you hollow your cheeks. your mouth is wet and hot, melting every bit of his resolve, and he understands that he’s placed himself in a predicament that he won’t be free of until you’re good and ready to let him go.

you pull his cock out of your mouth so you can breathe a bit, but you’re quick to suck on the thick head with vigor, enjoying the way his pre-cum drips onto your tongue. “you keep asking me to tell you how i feel,” you say at last, hand caressing his balls before your mouth nips at the skin playfully; his hips buck forward, and he bites down on his fist to stop himself from moaning your name. “but…” you take your time flicking your tongue against the length of his cock, slurping as you take him in your mouth again.  “do you really need me to say it?” your uncanny ability to peel back his layers, should frighten him, but it doesn’t. he grabs onto your hair and you relax your jaw as he pushes his cock further into your mouth; you let him set his own pace this time, his hips roughly thrust his cock inside as he fucks your mouth.

in an attempt to ignore your own arousal, you focus instead on the way his cock hits the back of your throat, the force behind his movements making you sputter and choke. drool slides out of your mouth, saliva running down your chin — he thinks you’re beautiful like that, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, a dazed look in your round eyes. it gets to be a bit too much, a tightening sensation in the pit of his abdomen making him grip your hair harder, knuckles blanching from how tight he’s holding. he inhales sharply as his orgasm carelessly pulses through his body, rendering his body useless, despite the messy way he’s thrusting his hips. you take it, though, endure until he’s satisfied, his cum thick and hot in your mouth. his vision leaves him momentarily, blurring your face as you swallow and lick the remainder of his cum off his cock — dutiful, yet mischievous.

he lets go of your hair once your mouth is off him; you lick your lips and plop down onto the bed beside him. he stays silent for a while, unable to speak; fatigue accompanies his silence, and he runs his hand down his face before rolling over to nestle his head in the crook of your neck. you freeze but inevitably stroke the back of his head, eyes closing as his breathing settles. what he wants to tell you, is that even though he knows how you feel, he’d rather hear you say it instead; but that’s another argument for another day. for now, he’ll just enjoy the taste of sleep — and you’ll continue to lie to yourself, to tell yourself that you didn’t need this as much as he did, that saying certain things means bringing forth truths that you’re determined to keep buried no matter how desperately they want to come out.

[forgottencassandra]

50. Writer's preference: cillian/cassandra -- "What do you suppose will happen to you when your father dies?"

A moment ago, she had hoped he might kiss her. They'd escaped the crowded banquet halls and slipped quietly into the gardens -- walking amongst the fountains and roses under the stars while snow fell gently around them. They'd taken a seat on a bench together and when Lord Ormond ventured to ask her a question -- she had certainly not expected that.

She was upset not only that he had ruined the perfect romantic moment by bringing up her father's death, but also because it insinuated that her own position would be far from secure when it happened.

Cassandra was ignorant of much that happened in the world, but even she had heard some rumblings that some feared that their might be chaos after her father's demise -- that her family would turn upon each other. She never turned gain those rumors any credit. It was just silly gossip from those who did not know any better -- likely from those who meant to undermine her father's rule. If anything, she believed that they should be even more united than they were now.

"What can you mean by asking such a thing?" She pulled away from him -- insulted and angry that he of all people, should buy into this ridiculous belief. Hadn't he listened to anything she'd said about her family? How much they loved each other?

"Forgive me, I meant no offense -- "

Cassandra didn't let him finish. She had no patience for him just now. "That does not mean that you have not given it! How dare you! Do you know what you are suggesting?"

"Yes. I do," The fact that his voice was so even and calm irritated her. As though he knew he was right, "Even you must see that your father's line of succession is hardly stable -- "

"Arthur will be Emperor." She replied definitively. There was no argument there, as far as she was concerned. "He's my father's eldest son and the crown will pass to him -- "

"Even so. Your step-mother will have something to say about that."

"You think that there will be a war." It wasn't a question. She knew immediately that that's what he believed.

"I know there will be. It's -- "

She didn't let him finish and she jumped to her feet, "-- Stop! Stop it at once. I don't want to hear this!"

"Cassandra, you must -- "

"-- Your Imperial Highness," She corrected -- a coolness in her voice that she had never used with him before, "I will not suffer such familiarity with someone who forgets their place and sprouts such nonsense!"

Before he could say another word, she turned on her heels and left him.

[angelicalchaoticabyss]

Owl anon and...I'd like a soft yandere eclair one shot...maybe....with a reader who is normally shy but loves to read about history?

(Soft Yandere!Eclair Cookie x Shy!Reader) Love for History

He had been watching you for a while now.

You come in everyday and spend hours looking over everything, at this point you’ve seen everything in the museum at least 10 times. It was so fascinating to Eclair; you’d just reread every little bit of information and even make your own notes. The way your eyes would sparkle when he had a new exhibit it was…so cute!

The way you smiled and glittered at the history of kingdom’s long passed, the mighty exploits of the great Tea Knight Cookie, inspecting the bones of a long-fallen dragon.

It reminded him so much of his own love for history!

Eclair was a bit shy himself at first, approaching you, but after getting the awkward introductions out of the way he got straight to talking about what would interest you. Through the conversation you slowly came out of your shell, happily going back and forth about the histories of the world. Your face was simply amazing and it made his heart flutter!

“My dear you’re simply a delight! Please please you’re welcome every day all day! I’d love to hear more of your notes and thoughts on the world!” He exclaimed with great joy.

“O-Oh thank you so much Eclair cookie that means so much to me! I’ll be sure to share more with you, this conversation was truly amazing!” You replied, grateful and happy.

The curator watched you leave with a sigh and starry eyes.

Each time he saw you was a bigger joy now that you were becoming friends, you both talked about history near endlessly. As you got closer you got more personal about your life and it saddened him that you didn’t have many friends. You were simply such a delight but sadly not enough cookies had enough patience to work through your shyness.

But that’s okay though, it just means you have more time for him!

Eventually Eclair would just go out with you in public outside the museum, of course not to big or loud areas. More quiet places like the park or a garden, today you were both out in a lovely forest for a walk! He simply wanted to be with and protect you forever! Be the only one you love! But he’d never do anything to scare or hurt you…of course…

Though…if anyone…WERE to hurt you…

“Eclair Cookie, are you okay? You’re spacing out a bit.”

“Oh! Oh, don’t worry about me my dear I’m just fine! Hahahah, got my head in the clouds today, my apologies.” He smiled.

“It’s okay no need to apologize!”

“Still, I love listening to you dear, please, continue.” He gently urged.

“Well, I wanted to say I deeply appreciate you taking time out of your day to come out with me. I mean you have a whole museum to run but every day you find at least an hour to spend with me outside. I do have a few other friends but none of them have gone…THAT out of their way for me before.”

“Oh darling, of course I’ll always find time to spend with you. You’re truly such a delight and it’s simply wonderful to have a friend who loves history as much as I do! Not to mention how intelligent and wonderful you are!” He chuckled a bit when you got a little flustered.

“O-Oh come on I’m not that great.” You stuttered.

“Nonsense, of course you are!” He replied with a confident tone.

“Heh…heheheh, well, you know…when you asked me if cookies tend to not have the patience to work through my shyness uh…you were…really on the mark.” You thought before continuing. “Social stuff has…always been really difficult and stressful for me, so making and let alone keeping friends is really difficult. Plus, you know some just uh…can’t really keep up with my fixation on history and some just…really want me to change the subject or shut up when I’m telling them something new I learned. But you stayed right there, helped lead the conversation when I couldn’t, you love history just like me and talk about it for hours. You even helped learned to talk about and keep up conversations of other topics, you did so much. Really, thank you so much, you’re just the sweetest.”

Eclair squeaked when you suddenly hugged him, but he instantly calmed and hugged you back. His heart soared at the feeling, pounded with his love for you. But…he’ll wait for you; he’ll wait for as long as he needs to…or has to. Hearing your words made him so happy, that he made such an impact for you. Though at the same time he was angry at your situation, you don’t deserve to be or feel so lonely.

“Well, my dear, I feel the same, Hahahah, most cookies completely blank out what I say after a time. Not to mention there are many who just…come to the museum solely for my appearance. But you’re not like that and I truly have no better friend than you.” He gently explained with his own slight tint of somberness.

He missed your warmth when you released him but it was replaced with you holding his hand, your smile was so beautiful. You deserved joy like this.

The remainder of the forest walk was calm and lovely, perfect for you both. It almost felt like a date to him, a date was…such a lovely thought. And the thought of making those cookies who abandoned you suffer sounded even lovelier to him- NO! No no, no no no.

Oh goodness gracious he’s getting ahead of himself there, don’t focus on those fools who are missing out! Just, focus on you.

“Hey! I remember there’s a Rainbow Jelly Butterfly migration that comes through the upcoming field every few years! It should happen today, let’s go see if we can witness it ourselves!” You suggested and he couldn’t ever say no that smile.

Plus, he wanted to see it too.

[aeceso]

Portrayal Notes.

personality: canon divergence. I have stressed this many times before, but---she is an accomplished healer. as "funny" as "old woman who lives all alone in the woods doesn't to be bothered and hits people with her broom" is to the writer, it seems nonsensical to me. no one who studied for years to have the credentials to be a healer would actually hate people. I know that it is supposed to be because she is Grandine's counterpart and Grandine loved humans, according to Wendy, I don't like it because it flattens all characters originally from Edolas to carricatures, to mirror images who do not exist outside of being a reflection. I think she is a woman who lost the entire world she called home, who has overly keen senses that put a major strain on her (cause migraines and overstimulation, sometimes) and who has chosen "living alone in the woods" as the most reasonable accomodation for her needs.

personality. so if she is not the carricature, what is up with her personality? slow she is to trust, slow to anger. she is honest and blunt, having little patience for mindgames and minced words. she is dutiful as a healer and she continues to learn more about her chosen field every day. she is loyal, as long as she receives loyalty in exchange for hers. she likes to be out in nature and she detests artificial scents (they make her sneeze).

mental health. there is definitely some neurodivergence going on, certainly some depression and trauma caused by the aforementioned loss of her entire world of origin, but I am presently not in the right mindset to diagnose my muse

expertise & knowledge. she possesses a wealth of knowledge when it comes to lacrima because Edolas was reliant on the material. Edolas possesses more knowledge of lacrima than Earthland because Earthland can solve things with magic while Edolas needed to rely on technology.

magic. in my opinion, Edolas was once a world of magic but lost that magic somewhere along the line. this theory is connected to the fact that Edolas does not have dragons, but Faust designed his construct to look like a dragon which i take to mean that once upon a time, there were dragons in Edolas---maybe dragons were even able to travel between the worlds. for this muse, it means that Porlyusica is descended from mages, leaving her with the latent ability to use magic but without the ability to gather magic from her environment because the environment was barren. she was not able to cast magic in Edolas. however, upon arriving in Earthland, she was able to gather magic from her environment and promptly got very sick as her body was not used to this.

family. @reivun is her son. their relationship is quite complicated because they are both complicated people, but there is love. but there is also the complication of "what do you do when you love your son but you have come to acknowledge that your marriage probably left you with quite a bit of trauma?" on one end and a dose of "you realise your mother was young and had dreams and hopes of her own and much of it is now ashes and a grave" on the other.

relationship, marriage and divorce. please refer to this headcanon

reputation. please refer to this headcanon

Canon Divergences.

canon divergence re: the entire war arc. there is no reason to assume that zeref does not know that fairy heart is located in magnolia. or, at the very least: fiore. thus, mounting any war effort towards a country that is not fiore makes no sense. it means to create battlefields that are a waste of resources. and while he has resources, i still think he would want to win the war swiftly, obtain fairy heart and go on to relive his life after getting rid of acnologia. even faking to be serious about destroying all of the continent would be questionable; he is emperor and it is unlikely that anyone would have really questioned his strategy. especially since once fairy heart had been obtained, the continent of ishgal would probably have fallen very quickly. fiore is, thanks to makarov’s secrecy, unprepared and would have no time to call upon their allies and their allies would have no time to rally their troops and come to fiore’s aid. in fact, that even so many guild mages were available should be a minor miracle — it should generally be assumed that especially s-class mages would usually be on long-term quests. tl;dr: the empire focused their attack on fiore and fiore alone and did not bother with other countries since it would have been a waste of time and resources alike.

canon divergence regarding chapter 469: this is a matter of personal discomfort, but as i have lost my grandmother to cancer, i hate the use of cancer and similarly illnesses to ramp up the angst factor. for this reason, natsu having developed an anti-ethernos tumor did not happen and i will ignore all references to it. i have not yet read how it all plays out but as it indeed does not have any major plot relevance because brandish fixes it in about five minutes, i think i am better off without this vague idea of a subplot. additionally, porlyusica is one of the best healers in all of earthland so please erase her line 'but there are no surgeons in ishgal with the requisite level of skill…’ from your memory because had it actually occured, she would have had the skill. she is canonly an accomplished surgeon so i don’t know what the hell this is suddenly about.

canon divergence regarding chapter 512: porlyusica did not tell lucy to strip down and warm natsu with body heat™. while as a healer, she has personally grown used to nudity, she a. knows that this is not the case for everyone and that some would be uncomfortable and b. she is too level-headed to jump to the same ideas a teenager writing a fanfiction, lord. if anything, she suggested to summon aries to have her provide warmth via her wool magic as lucy has no spirit capable of using fire magic.