#there’s a very good reason i never wear tops tucked in

[silverfoxstole]

It’s done!

After ten days of work (and another three for a waistcoat I’m not that happy with; see below), the NotD coat is finished! Woohoo!

Overall, I’m really pleased with it, which is just as well as it’s taken so much time (and grief!). I worked out that if I’d paid myself minimum wage for all the hours I put in the labour alone would amount to about £500. One of my ex colleagues used to suggest I set up a dressmaking business and wouldn’t believe me when I told her it wouldn’t be cost effective as the amount of labour involved would make everything too expensive.

Anyway, I have taken quite a lot of photos, so you can see how it turned out:

This got long so I’ll stick the rest behind a cut.

I ended up adding some extra fabric to the tails, as they were sticking out at an angle and didn’t look right. It means an extra seam but it’s not that visible and I much prefer it this way, with more fullness at the back (and it properly covers my bum, which is very important!):

Though it looks fine on the dummy when I put it on I’m not convinced I didn’t raise the back waist seam a bit too far, but it’s sitting on my waist so… *shrugs* I don’t often look at myself from behind so it probably doesn’t matter that much.

After sewing on the two back buttons I changed my mind and went with the covered ones in the end, deciding on reflection that those I bought last week were a bit too pale. They would have fitted better if I’d made the binding more of a contrast (which I’m glad I didn’t as it would have been more obvious that it’s not exactly perfect in some places). I had to make the buttonholes manually as there was no way the automatic buttonhole foot wouldn’t get caught at some point. I haven’t sewn any that way since I first started out six years ago and was using my mother’s old machine! All the ones I’ve owned have had an automatic function so I had to practice a bit to remind myself how to do it. Thankfully they’ve turned out well.

I also solved the problem of the gap between the collar and lapel by stitching them together. It works a treat!

Though I’ve made a miniature version for Eight Bear, this is the first time I’ve tried to replicate an existing garment for myself (the Dark Eyes coat was an interpretation rather than a direct copy), and I am actually really proud that I’ve ended up with something that does look pretty much like the original, as well as Steven Ricks’s recreation, which has been a definite influence!

That said, while the coat has turned out well I’m not massively pleased with the waistcoat. I decided to make another one on a whim as I had a more accurate pattern and saw what looked like an ideal fabric but I don’t like it all that much now it’s done. It was hell to put together because the satin just started disintegrating and still is; I’ve had to sew up holes in both the pockets because the seams have just frayed straight through and I’d put them together before I thought of stabilising the edges with interfacing. It’s another men’s pattern and I should have made some adjustments but after doing so much to the coat I really couldn’t be bothered and just put it together as it was; I should really have added some length, which is ironic given the amount I had to remove from the coat, and perhaps levelled it off at the front. Consequently it’s not a great fit and sits really awkwardly on Stella as you can see, though that may have something to do with the fact that I put the buttonholes on the wrong side out of habit:

There is a watch on the end of the chain this time, because the pockets are real! I quite like the look of the waistcoat undone when I put it on, but done up not so much. There’s a lot of spare fabric in the front for some reason, which I tried to hide by smoothing it under the collar and then stitching the collar down. It hasn’t entirely worked, and it doesn’t help that the brocade is such a bouncy fabric and doesn’t press well.

Putting it all together I do think it looks better on Stella than me, but that’s probably because I rarely wear so many layers! I wish I had a better backdrop than the bedroom but it’ll have to do:

Maybe I could unbutton the waistcoat and untuck the shirt and be Eight having a casual day? I love the coat but I do feel much more comfortable wearing it over a t-shirt and jeans!

Now I just have to wait until some cooler weather to be able to put it into use. My only gripe is that there are no external pockets, either on the original or the pattern I used! Surely you’d think the Doctor would need pockets?

[keldabekush]

It's Stone's turn at the deskwork tonight and he's a little bit glad about it. His feet hurt and he's sick of the way everything echos in the senate building - the ceilings are so high. He's loosening the fastening clip on his left boot under the desk and marking a file for review with his free hand when Marshal Commander Fox keys open the door.

Stone bashes his shoulder against the desk in his hurry to sit up straight. Fox is already strolling up to the desk and Stone has no time to say anything before he perches himself on the corner and pulls out a crinkly little package.

"Good evening Stone. Do you want a banana chip?"

"I...yeah?"

"Oh i wasn't talking to you. I was talking to her." Fox says, without pausing his careful scrutiny of the bag of dried banana chips

Stone says nothing, because he's confused and he doesn't want Marshal Commander Fox to know that he's confused him. He tries to subtly look behind him in case there is a "her" somehow peering through the window behind him, despite it being hundreds of feet above ground level.

He doesn't manage it before Fox holds out a banana chip to the wad of fabric that's been sitting on the corner of the shared desk since Stone sat down.

Stone is about to turn a devastating raised eyebrow in Commander Fox's direction when the little pile of fabric begins to move, and as he watches on in complete uncomprehension, a teeny tiny little pink hand reaches out and plants itself on the plastic desk top, and then a second, and whatever is in the fabric bag does a luxurious stretch.

Stone is holding his breath for some reason.

A little triangular head with quivering whiskers peeks out, and Commander Fox makes a noise Stone has never heard him make before, like a happy hum or a sort of short laugh.

The thing in the bag slips out into the open to take the banana chip from between his fingers - its a small rodent with four little paws and round ears, with a tidy coat of white and dark brown that makes it looks like it's wearing a little brown jacket with a hood. It eats neatly, holding the banana chip with both of its little pink hands and tucked into a tidy little crouch.

Stone remembers he's not breathed for a minute and does that while Marshal Commander Fox extends the smallest finger on his right hand and brushes the fur behind the thing's ears very gently.

"Sir." He says firmly.

"Stone." He doesnt look at him so Stone can't deploy The Eyebrow, so instead Stone makes his tone as flat as he can.

"Marshal Commander Fox, Sir. What is happening right now. This right here." Stone gestures to encircle the entire tiny scene, "what is this. Explain. Please."

The little creature is leaving tiny banana crumbs beside the Visit Coruscant! keyring Thorn kept on the desk.

"Commander Stone, this is Stone. She's our guest. Would you actually like a banana chip? They're pretty good."

Stone takes one from the bag Fox is holding out to him because its the easiest response. Its crunchy. It is pretty good, actually.

"Hullo, Stone." He says. He's probably asleep at the desk and he'll wake up and tell Thorn about this funny dream.

"She's here because its warmer in the office during the day and she was sounding a bit wheezy. And she likes sleeping when theres company around. Has she been sneezing?"

"No." He answers.

"Ah good. That's better isn't it, little'un?"

He's talking to the animal like it's a first cycle cadet.

"Do you want to hold her?"

What? Oh, that was aimed at him. Stone stares at the thing while Fox picks out another banana chip. It had finished the first treat and was washing its face and whiskers with its tiny paws.

"Sure."

Fox scoops it up like a handful of pudding and drops it into the crook of Stone's arm, and hands it another banana chip. It sits there, vibrating quietly and enjoying its treat while it leaves little banana crumbs on his elbow.

Stone extends the smallest finger of his free hand and smooths the fur between it’s ears. He looks up only after Commander Fox lowers the datapad that had been on the desk and grins at the holo image he's taken. He tucks it under his arm.

"No." Says Stone.

"Yes." Says Fox, plucking the fabric bag off the desk and arranging it into a nest in his palm. He holds out his free hand and makes a "give it here" motion, so Stone carefully transfers the tiny thing to his hand with the same tenderness he would show a live grenade. Fox attempts to tuck it into the nest, but it climbs up his cuirass to nestle up beside his neck instead and he just makes that weird noise again.

"Bye, Stone."

"Goodbye, Commander. Goodbye, Stone."

And like that the door closes behind them and Stone is alone in the office again, one boot unbuckled and the smell of banana in the air.

He wipes the crumbs off the desk and gets back to his forms.

[leohamatoblog]

More Boyfriend Headcanons: Leo Edition

• "leo can you-" "-already on it." "you don't even know what it is." "doesn't matter."

• never late to anything, he will call or text if he is

• you think mikey's puppy eyes are irresistable? leo's has him beat

• very mature but if you put on music, he will dance with you ridiculously with no hesitation

• often hums to you while you're falling asleep

• you don't wanna talk out the fight you just had? okay, enjoy killing the big ass spider by yourself that somehow ended up in your shower

• has a very steady hand so if you wear eyeliner, he will gladly do it for you and it's always even

• cheek pincher

• "it's just blood, y/n, no need to be upset. i'll clean up, you go shower."

• "i don't shave, but let me help you cause you've knicked your face 5 times now and it's stressing me out."

• "well don't you look so happy to see me this early in the morning."

• "honey, have you seen my-nevermind! i found it!"

• if he's feeling extra playful, prepare for mini pranks like dumping cold water on you in the shower or scaring you

• you have a skin care routine? yes, he is all in

• gives you the bigger piece of chocolate or food item always

• he's mad at you? he calls you dear

• panicks when you call him leonardo cause then he knows he's in trouble

• does the sidewalk thing where he walks on the traffic side

• he gets extremely clingy when he's drunk

• short circuits whenever you throw a pick up line at him

• can and will smack your ass randomly

• insists on fixing things for you, which he does successfully (mostly), but he's the reason why your toaster exploded and you had to get a new counter top

• doesn't matter that he's 3 times your size, if he's in the cuddly mood, you are now his body pillow

• will nuzzle into your neck from behind

• snores

• he only used the 5 in 1 body wash (iykyk) until he met you and now he will only use dove body wash because of you

• will make you tea all the time

• will leave you written reminder notes everywhere

• acts like he hates when you have to help him clean his shell, but he can't stop the churring noises he makes when you do

• since you're smaller than him, your footsteps are lighter, but since he's well trained, sneaking up on him is nearly impossible (you did get him once, but he continuously denies it)

• praise, praise, and more praise

• will watch those cheesy romance movies (if you like them) with you

• will cover you with a blanket if you fall asleep in the recliner or on the couch

• oh you're ticklish? for your own good, try to keep it a secret

• type to ask you to let him know where you're at/who you're with/how long will you be. it's not to be controlling, it's incase of emergency

• gives you space to be independent but can't help himself to micromanage when he sees you doing yoga/exercizing cause you're "doing it wrong" (you're not, it's his excuse to sneak little peeks)

• no problem with getting you tampons/pads if you have periods

• no problem with helping you bind or tuck if you're trans and working through transitioning

• very good bedside manner. of course he'll rub your tummy if you're feeling bad, it's so soft

• very bad at not parenting you...work in progress but he won't realize it unless you put him in his place

• good at reading emotional ques, not the best at executing comfort but he tries

• he's still learning and growing but he's a quick study. he'll learn and adapt just for you

• he definitely said 'i love you' first

[notjustjavierpena]

Love you fluff and spicy fics! They are the best kinds ;) can I request dates with Husband!Javi or DILF!Joel? (Would love to read them both but I’ll let you take the rein ;))

First: Date

A/N: Enjoy, anon!

Summary: With the way your relationship started, you’ve never been on a first date. You do a fake first date.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), PIV sex, unprotected sex, clit stim, creampie, dirty talk, hot and desperate sex

Word count: 3.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48689506/chapters/122820544#workskin

Date

“We never actually had a first date, did we?” 

Joel looks down at you as you rest your head on his shoulder, his lips pressed into your hair. You cuddle up to him even more than before because he has just put a blanket over the both of you. He furrows his brow at the question, trying to understand what you are playing at. 

You’re not playing at anything. In fact, a very large part of you is happy that you never had to go through the torturous process of getting to know a stranger by taking them places and forcing them to answer uncomfortably personal questions. 

“No, we didn’t…” he says into your hair as if awaiting further instructions or explanations, “Why?”

You grab the remote to press play on your movie, then shrug nonchalantly, “No reason. The thought just came to me, popped into my head.”

“Is it something you want?” He continues as if treading carefully. 

“God no,” you turn your body a little in his arm to kiss him on the lips a few times, “I’m thankful that we skipped the heart palpitations and clammy hands, the painful silences.”

“I had nothing but clammy hands the first two weeks of just seeing you in the street,” he admits, bumping your noses together with red cheeks at his confession, “Felt like a fuckin’ teenager. Sarah near laughed her ass off.”

“And you didn’t ask me out,” you tut, then get an idea that has your face lighting up, “Wait… How would you have asked me out? How is your game?”

“Let me take you to dinner and you’ll find out,” he teases, focusing on turning back to the TV screen.

“Oooh, alright. You’re on. Pick me up at six.”

*

You agree on Friday at 6 pm. As soon as the roleplay is on, a ton of butterflies erupt inside your stomach at the thought of being wined and dined by Joel Miller. You don’t expect too much though, because the poor guy has previously already told you that the number of dates he has been on since Sarah’s mother passed can be counted on one hand. Despite no one having died, the same goes for you and that fact will surely make the evening a comical one.

At six o’clock your doorbell rings and you fix the straps of your dress for the millionth time in the hallway mirror before opening the door. 

Joel looks good. He has his usual jeans on, but has added a belt, and the t-shirt that he always wears has been substituted with one of his nice button-up shirts and it’s been neatly tucked into his pants. The wristwatch is still there, and the intoxicating smell of his cologne too, but despite all this grabbing your attention, it’s nothing compared to the handful of smaller sunflowers that he is holding out for you. 

“Oh, you sly bastard,” you grin, realizing now just how fun the night out will be. If Joel is doing this, you might as well roleplay along. You step forward to take the very homemade bouquet, “These are gorgeous, Joel, my favorite.”

“Figured roses were too cliche,” he states shyly. 

“Let me just put these in water,” you step away from the door to hold it open for him, “Come in. I’ll be ready in five.”

Joel steps silently inside, following you into the kitchen where you get a vase from on top of your refrigerator and start filling it with water. With a pair of kitchen scissors, you cut the stems at an angle.

“Nice place you got here,” Joel small-talks. He tries not to smile, but you can see that he fights the urge to chuckle at the silliness of the situation. 

“Thanks, yeah, a super cute guy helped me a lot over the summer,” you put the sunflowers into the vase, placing it on your kitchen island to be able to admire them in the morning light. 

“Oh?” Joel questions, placing a hand on the counter as he watches you fluff the sunflowers to make them look less messy after you’ve handled them, “Should I be concerned by competition?”

“Not if you knock it out of the park tonight, starting by telling me I look beautiful,” you say with a smile, walking up to him and trying not to kiss his stupid face. 

You are wearing Joel’s favorite dress of yours that hugs your chest and ass in a way that makes a few people turn their heads every time you go outside wearing it. 

“You look stunning,” he says as he looks down at you, then grins, “I have a few things planned for tonight, and I think you’ll like ‘em.”

“Lead the way.”

*

Joel takes you to a restaurant in the city of Austin. It is Italian in a cliché way; checkered tablecloths, candles in wine bottles, and, to top it off, a picture of Lady and the Tramp on the wall. It’s nothing that seems to appeal to Joel, but you cannot help but love it in the most wonderful childlike way and point it out as you enter the place.

Though to save him the pain of getting embarrassed, you order a pizza instead of the classic spaghetti. He orders a pizza himself, furrowing his brow as he realizes that the proper way of eating pizza here is by using a knife and fork. 

“So,” you say after a mouthful of food, taking a sip of your wine, “Texas born and raised?”

“Yeah, my folks live half an hour out of town,” Joel replies, resting his wrists on the edge of the table, “And Sarah, my daughter… We've been in that house since forever. Sarah doesn’t know much else than that street.”

“You have a daughter?” You tilt your head curiously, challenging him with a little smile.

“Oh yeah, fifteen years old. Love of my life,” he tells you, and your heart swells because you know exactly how he looks at her with wonder and love, “Does that bother you?”

“Not at all, I just don’t have any kids of my own,” you reply. 

“Is that… something you can see yourself in? Kids?” 

You figure that it’s a fair question for a date, but it’s a little overwhelming when you’re already in too deep. Months deep into this relationship actually.

“Well, yeah,” you say after a pause, somehow so certain, “Yeah… I want the whole thing; white picket fence and nauseating suburban lifestyle.” 

You can see Joel visibly relax. 

“Is it hard being a single dad?” You ask gently. 

Joel tenses up once more, resting his hand on the tabletop and tapping his fingers slightly. He avoids your gaze, “Sometimes. I mean… I’m terrified that I will end up in a situation where I can’t be what she needs. Additionally, it’s hard to imagine getting something you want for yourself when all you think of is soccer practice, boy bands, birthdays, and tampons.”

You place your hand on top of his, fingertips slowly running up and down Joel’s wrist, “That sounds hard.”

It’s nice to get to know Joel like this, and as you sip your wine, conversation flows easily between the two of you. Date-night Joel is funny and charming, exactly how you pictured him, and more. He compliments you throughout the evening, makes you laugh to the point where you can see his eyes soften and cause another compliment to spill from his mouth.

“Got any moves?” You ask before cutting into the last slice of your pizza. Joel finished his own a little while ago. 

“Moves?” He questions, absentmindedly reaching out for your hand on the table again. You place your palm in his and he rubs his thumb over your knuckles.

“Yeah, date moves? I bet you’re going to lend me your jacket later. That sorta stuff.”

“I actually was,” he chuckles with slightly red cheeks that might as well have been from the bottle of red wine that you’ve shared, then running his free hand over his hair and leaning back into his seat, “I figured since we should've had our first date in June, it was the right time to do a summer activity, so we’re getting ice cream after this. And I know it’d get you chilly.'' 

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously. And what about you?”

“I haven’t used any moves on you tonight,” you lie. 

“Liar,” he laughs, shaking his head disapprovingly, “Tell me.”

“I asked you about your daughter,” you shrug and try brushing it off.

“That’s a move?” He raises a brow. 

“Well, got me touching you, didn’t it?” You nod down at where you are holding hands, causing Joel to sit up a little straighter as he realizes. 

“I think we need to get out of here before you manipulate me further,” he jokes, letting go of your hand to raise his own to signal a waiter.

*

You get ice cream cones after dinner at a charming little parlor. Joel gets strawberry and you get hazelnut. It seems like the perfect end to your date.

The sky is speckled with stars as you walk through a dimly lit area with Joel’s jacket wrapped around your shoulders. In your hand, your ice cream cone is melting slowly, but you manage to catch each dribble with the flat of your tongue. Joel’s eyes are on you the whole time. 

“Do you have work tomorrow?” You ask casually.

“Yeah,” he replies, eating his ice cream, “Not early in the morning though. Why?”

“Just wondered if you were going to follow me home after this,” you say with another lick. You’ll invite him inside too; Joel knows this but it’s part of the fun to not say anything.

He hums, “Sure, of course. I wouldn’t want you taking the bus alone at this hour anyway.”

“Ever the gentleman.”

Joel smiles to himself. Definitely not going to be a gentleman. He then dares to reach between you to find your hand. He entwines your fingers, says nothing and you walk without conversation for a while until you fake a yawn. 

“I should get home.”

“I know the quickest way to the car.”

*

You find yourself on your front porch not long after. It seems ridiculous how many times Joel has been standing behind you like this, breathing down your neck as you unlock your front door. 

With a shy smile, you stop trying to unlock the door and let the key sit in the lock. You dare to turn around to look up at Joel’s big brown eyes that are watching you with the glazed expression he gets whenever he wants to clear his head and kiss you. 

It reminds you of your first kiss as he dips down, searching out your mouth with his own, and whilst you want to give in, you also want to make him work for it, play out the scene.

“I had a really good time tonight,” you interrupt him as he is just about to kiss you. 

“Right,” he looks like someone trying to refrain from rolling his eyes. He hesitates but then replies, “Can I see you again?”

“Yes, I’d like that a lot. Thank you for letting me fall in love with you a little more tonight.”

Something changes at that.

“And can I kiss you?” He asks a little impatiently. Something is brewing.

You animatedly tap your chin and giggle as he sighs at your silliness. It earns you a kiss, short and sweet and definitely not enough. You pull him down to your mouth again when he tries to pull away. 

There haven’t been many women before you in the years after Sarah’s mother, and it results in a starving man who cannot get enough when he knows that he has you. You like it when he snaps; as if the dam that holds back all of his pent-up need for you since seeing you in his favorite dress crumbles.

You kiss each other so hard that he suddenly loses himself and grips your shoulders roughly, shoving you into the door until the knob is pressing painfully into your lower back. Joel’s mouth is warm and inviting and tastes like strawberry ice cream as he practically eats at your mouth, swallowing down his name as it drips like honey from your lips. It makes up for how he manhandles you against the door until you can, albeit blindly, reach behind you and finally open it. 

The door gives way behind you and you both fall through, completely losing balance without trying to regain it in the slightest. There’s something exciting about the utter desperation, something charming about the giggles you let out as you hit the floor with a thump. At least the door swings shut behind you.

You shrug Joel’s jacket off your shoulders, trying to get comfortable on the floorboards. It messes up the kiss and has Joel growling, but then he takes the opportunity to bury his face in your neck and breathe in your perfume. 

You can feel his teeth graze over the skin of your throat, not quite biting down yet. He kisses open-mouthed and hot along your main artery instead, leaving a trail of shiny saliva until he is by your ear. He whispers, “You always invite guys in on the first date?”

He reaches down to tug your dress up. You help him by lifting your hips off the ground and he responds by grabbing your ass in his hands, squeezing and yanking you up against the bulge in his jeans only to grind right back down into you.

“Only contractors in their late thirties who are named Joel Miller,” you say with a chuckle interrupted by a moan as you feel the rough fabric of his jeans against your clothed cunt. 

“Guess I’m really fuckin’ lucky that I fit that description perfectly then.”

“I need you,” you add with a groan, reaching for the top button on Joel’s shirt that’s too nice for you to start ripping off. You struggle to undo the buttons though, feeling embarrassed at how much your fingers fumble out of want, “Please, Joel. Off, take this off.”

“So fuckin’ needy indeed,” he kisses you again, doesn’t even bother breaking the kiss as he reaches up, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt and then throwing it onto the floor.

You whimper against his lips, reaching down to pull at his pants. You need more, need to see him in all his glory, need to touch, suck him, feel him inside of you. Either will do. It is almost too much, “You’re so hot, fuck, help me with these.”

Joel makes quick work of pushing off his jeans and then underwear. He groans softly in relief, his cock finally free, already so hard there is a pearl of precum beading at his tip. 

“Now mine,” you pant, pushing the flats of your feet into the floor to lift yourself up again,  “Please, please, you have to fuck me.”

He runs his hands from your ankles up your calves, stopping at your thighs to give them a firm squeeze and groan with unrestrained desire. Then, unceremoniously, he simply grips the fabric of your panties in his hands and yanks them down. Having you splayed out before him, he doesn’t waste any more time. He hoists you up a bit, grabbing his dick and positioning himself, and then thrusts into you all the way in one go.

You both moan at the same time, but whereas yours is a soft sound, his is a low throaty one. You hook your legs around his waist as you wait for him to move inside of you. You find his gaze too, meeting it with pleading eyes, slack mouth, and furrowed brows, “Fuck me. Please just–”

Joel does not keep you waiting for a goddamn second. He grips you tightly under your right thigh and braces his other hand flat against the floor for support, and then in the next moment, he is pounding you ruthlessly into the floorboards. No hesitation, no build-up.  It is mercilessly perfect, the floorboards creaking slightly at you being pressed into them. If you didn’t have your legs around Joel’s waist, you are sure that the force of the way you are being fucked would create burns from the friction again the wood.

Joel buries his face in your neck next. He finally bites down like you have waited for, causing you to tilt back your head with a high-pitched moan. Your hands come up to rest on the back of his head and you slide your fingers into his hair, tugging ever so slightly as the tension below your belly button builds. It feels like fire, like electricity.

"Pretty. You sound so fuckin’ pretty when you take my cock," he murmurs against your neck. He then straightens a bit again to let go of your thigh in favor of sliding his hand under you, pressing it against the small of your back, and holding you closer to his own body. He watches your face as your head swims with desire, “Look pretty too, oh, fuck, baby.”

Your right hand reaches down, but you don’t get a chance to touch yourself, because, with his other hand, Joel reaches down to place his thumb on your swollen clit, immediately setting a blinding pace. You see stars, ecstatic moans giving you away.

“I’m gonna—“

“And you’re gonna come on my dick now too?” He groans, already chasing his own pleasure with each thrust of his hips, “Lucky fuckin’ me.”

Fireworks erupt below your belly button as you come with a wanton shout. The pleasure is fast and intense, your muscles squeezing around Joel’s cock which suddenly spurts thick ropes of come inside of you. He feels so good as you pulse around him, cunt greedily milking everything into yourself. 

“You’ll be the death of me,” Joel says with an exhausted chuckle as he flops down beside you. The both of you try catching your breaths, but the dopamine rush won’t let either of you settle down quite yet. 

Your legs fall against each other, collapsing from exhaustion. You can feel your back start to ache already, “God.”

“Just Joel.”

You slap his arm. 

“Are you okay though?” He asks genuinely. 

“My back is going to be sore like hell from this. It already is. Other than that? I don’t think you’ve ever fucked me like that before,” you run a hand over your face, staring up at the ceiling afterwards.

“Sounds about right,” he says, pauses for a moment, then, “So when can I see you again?”

[sh1-n0bu]

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 25: praise kink with rosaria from genshin impact

warnings: praise, fingering, clit pinching, eating out, slight exhibitionism, fluff at the end

notes: rosaria is so pretty. i dun know if i want to be her or want to be with her

being dragged off to the side to have a quickie should be considered a sacrilege especially when it's inside the church of mondstadt. the very same place where thousands of thousands come to pay their respect and reverie to the anemo archon barbatos. more so, when the one who is being dragged off into a dark, empty room inside the church is one of the sisters. but rosaria was never one to worship the gods nor was she one to be considered holy with how much she loves alcohol and sneaks off to smoke behind the church.

and neither were you.

factually speaking you are one of grandmaster varka's most trusted knight. the perfect example of a strong, steady and unwavering knight who stays devoted to their knighthood to do good and to protect mondstadt. yet there were a few problems. you didn't worship the anemo archon despite swearing your loyalty and life to mondstadt. when asked why you never once worshipped the god of freedom you would simply shrug with a carefree grin.

"i like being free. pretty sure barbatos would support my decision. besides it was the people and the nation i swore my loyalty to, not the god" you would always carelessly say out loud, uncaring of anyone's judgements. why would you be when a certain, green bard would knowingly flash you a cheeky grin before turning away from you?

and why would it matter when you would find something way better than worshipping an absentee archon as you excitedly drag a certain sleep deprived sister to a dark room inside the church, making sure to lock the door behind yourself as you silence her annoyed grumbles with a kiss?

rosaria always acts like this. like she is uninterested when she very much clearly is. an eyeroll here and there, a scoff, a demeaning comment aimed at you, ready to tear down that carefree grin from your face whenever you come bearing flowers or just yourself. just yourself and your expert fingers and tongue flicking her open.

"you really don't know when to give up, do you little knight?" the cryo wielder huffs softly, propping herself on the table inside the dark room. what room it was, she couldn't give two shits about. little knight, that's what she always refers to you as. a way of demeaning you at the beginning that slowly over time turned into... a weird form of endearment.

"what can i say, rosa? you're just so undeniably beautiful. i would rather worship you rather than that god" you giggle out, hooking your fingers on the high waistband of her fishnets. with an approving nod from her, you ease the thin fabrics off of her legs, throwing it to the side before her panties followed.

"wearing this one? you could have just called me if you really were starting to miss me, rosa" you hum softly, the black soft fabrics in your hand familiar. she always loved to wear this one for some reason whenever you two would agree to meet up for a quickie or a night to blow off some stress. in response, rosaria only whacks the top of your head gently as a warning. one that you clearly overreacted to as the woman on the table silently thanks the room for being so dark inside so you won't see the slight flush of her cheeks.

"you sure talk a lot, little knight. put that mouth to a good use for once?" you only nod with an eagerness, rolling your eyes at her huffy attitude. not that you minded it. you actually loved this enigmatic sister of the church just the way she was.

gently pushing her legs apart, tucking the slit of her dress to the side, you mumble a "thank you for the food" before diving in. the familiar scent of her arousal, the slight wetness forming already and the familiar feeling of her metal clawed hand tugging on your hair bringing an odd sense of tenderness and grounding. nestling your nose until it was bumping against her clit, you test the waters.

a long stripe up her drenched folds got rosaria to tug on your hair with a muffled moan. she was oddly sensitive today. not that you minded as you continue to eat her out, switching between dipping your tongue inside her warm walls and suckling on her clit. each time you pull your tongue out of her clenching plushy insides, you would mutter a breathless praise. of how you adore her, how beautiful she was, how capable, how strong and just how goddamn happy you would be if you were to be crushed between her strong thighs.

each breathless words of praise and adoration caused rosaria to clench down on your tongue more and more. her voice becoming more and more breathless as concealing her moans and grunts of your name becomes harder. she was close.

as if knowing that she exactly needed a little bit more push to teeter over that blissful edge and to release that tightening knot in her stomach, you slip two fingers inside. to which rosaria immediately clenched around, a punched out gasp of what seems to be your name falling out of her lips. soon, she was saying your name over and over like a prayer, even though you were the one kneeling on the floor in front of her. just a few soft of your finger against that one soft spot inside her tight walls and a harsh suck to her clit and the cold woman was coming on your mouth with a soft whimper.

each drop you slurped up with an eagerness for another round, the noises sounding incredibly lewd that it caused rosaria to whine out your name. or maybe that was the slight oversensitivity kicking in. you were still sucking on her sensitive nub as you lazily pumped your finger inside her addictive plushy insides. with a soft peck to her clit, you finally pull your fingers out, noticing only now that her thighs had slight tremor to them.

"you alright? was it too much?" you ask in concern, helping her slide her panties and fishnets back on. all you got in return was a nod, the usually cold sister unable to find words to say that she was okay due to the slight sensitivity of her cunt. with a soft kiss to her fishnet covered knees and thighs, you help her up into her feet.

after checking the hallways for anyone being around, you two walk out after confirming no one was around like nothing happened inside that room. holding hands and laughing and joking about bunch of random things as if you didn't fuck rosaria to the point she couldn't even talk properly.

"so, will you be free on saturday? how does going out for a nice dinner sound, sister rosaria?" you joke, squeezing her hand in your own softly. but imagine how low your jaw dropped when the usually reclusive sister of the church agrees.

"what's up with that look on your face, little knight? i was actually going to ask you out but you beat me to it" the cryo user simply laughs at your shocked face, squeezing your hand back. never would you have expected her to actually agree. but damn, you definitely have a date to plan and to impress this approaching saturday.

[navybrat817]

Would you be interested in writing a drabble for my favourite DJ?

“Why are you laughing? I am trying to sex you up right now. What’s so funny?”

For you? Anything!

Good for a Laugh

Pairing: Mickey Henry x Female Reader Summary: Mickey unintentionally makes you laugh. Word Count: Almost 630 Warnings: Laughter, implied oral, hot man wearing panties, balls, I don't even know what these warnings are at this point, Mickey Henry (he’s a warning, okay?) A/N: Hey, lovelies! Life has been crazy, so why not something short and fun for Sinday? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by the talented @vase-of-lilies. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world! Masterlist

When it came to sex, Mickey Henry could do no wrong in your eyes. Maybe it was because he looked like a mix of a god and sin incarnate with his sun kissed skin and ocean blue eyes. It could have also been because he was confident without being arrogant about his sexual prowess. It wasn't an easy line to toe, but he made it seem effortless. It was part of his charm.

But tonight when he walked in, his arms opened wide as he smiled from ear to ear?

You laughed.

And it wasn't a dismissive snort or a giggle. It was a soft sound that grew the longer you stared at him. He raised an eyebrow as the sound filled the room, clutching your stomach and nearly falling off the edge of your bed. Your sides ached and it took a second to make your head stop spinning as you tried to catch your breath.

Kind of like after the mind shattering orgasms he gave you.

“Why are you laughing? I am trying to sex you up right now. What’s so funny?”

You didn't mean to laugh. You truly didn't. And seeing the small pout on his face as his hands went to his hips, you feared you'd start all over again. But you couldn't. Not if you wanted to feel the rings on his fingers dig into your skin within the next few minutes.

"I'm sorry. It's just…" you gestured to his bulge. "My panties? Really?"

Mickey smirked as he did a small spin. The blue lace made him look prettier, which you didn't think was possible. You also wished you could smack his handsome face because why did his ass look better in your underwear? 

"Thought I'd see what all the fuss is about. I mean. They're kind of comfortable, but I prefer you without them. Easier access and all that."

Your chaotic man, always ready for a good time with you. "They look good on you."

He sauntered over to where you sat and part of you was tempted to grab him a pair of heels, just to see how well he could walk in them. "Then why are you laughing?" he questioned, running his palms along the top of your thighs.

You shivered as he leaned down, just out of reach for a kiss. "Your balls are out."

Mickey took a couple of steps back, which gave you a nice eyeful as his hand went to his crotch to feel. "Thought I tucked them in."

The laughter began to bubble up from your throat again as he tried to push them into the fabric. You discovered very early on that he was packing heavy when it came to those bad boys. Your panties didn't stand a chance. "Did you not FEEL a draft?"

"I mean, I felt a little cold," he chuckled as he ran his other hand through his fluffy hair. "I carry a lot of heat down there, baby. They're huge."

"They are," you agreed, clenching as you pictured them smacking against your bare skin. "And I'm ready for you to sex me up."

"I didn't ruin the moment?" he smiled, showing that he was unphased by your earlier laughter.

You slid off the edge of the bed to drop to your knees, smiling as you gently pushed his hand away. One of the reasons you loved him was because he made you laugh. He always showed you a good time. He deserved the same.

"Never. Feel free to wear any of my panties you want."

"Any of them?" he groaned, his head tipping back as you mouthed at the fabric.

"Yep. In fact, let's see if I can make you ruin these before you even get inside me."

*****

Happy Sinday. Love and thanks! ❤️

[centralperkchenford]

I’m back lol in honor of spooky season

Chenford + watching a scary movie and Tim teasing Lucy about being scared when they see “far worse things every day”

I have to admit I don’t like scary movies but I remember my mom and brother talking about this one and now they couldn’t watch it so 🤣🤣. I too am a scaredy cat.

I hope you enjoy this one!! 🎃

Chenford + watching a scary movie and Tim teasing Lucy about being scared when they see “far worse things every day”

Right beside you is where I belong from this moment on

“What movie do you want to watch?” Tim asks Lucy as they settle down on the couch. Tim has their bowl of popcorn and Lucy curls her feet underneath her as she leans against Tim.

“I don’t care.” She replies. Tim huffs out a breath as he scrolls through Netflix.

“Ohhh.” He says landing on one. “What about Friday the 13th?” He glances over at Lucy and sees her making a face.

“What you don’t want to see—” He starts but stops when he sees Lucy shaking her head and he nods and tries to think of another movie.

“Okay. What about a classic?” He asks. She looks up at him nods.

“Classics are good.” She says and his lips twitch a little.

“The Texas Chainsaw Massacre it’s.. intense.” He warns her but she shrugs and tucks herself more into his side. He finds the movie and presses play, he doesn’t necessarily love this movie but it’s one everyone knows. And it’s a little scary.

He looks down to see Lucy’s face buried in his chest. “Hey.” He says nudging her. “Are you even watching?”

She looks up at him and then at the TV just as someone is attacked. “Yeah it’s a great movie.” She mutters and then she drapes her legs over his legs and clutches on to his shirt. Tim huffs out a laugh.

“Baby, you know this is pretend right?” Tim asks softly. “This never would happen.”

“It could.” She mutters. Tim soothes her by running his fingers through her hair. There’s a scream on the TV and Lucy whimpers and holds on tighter to Tim. He pauses the TV and lifts her head up so he can look at her.

“You deal with far worse than this everyday and it’s real. Not some crazed person chasing people down.” He says gently but there’s a teasing lilt to his voice. He has never known Lucy to be scared of pretend. She’s the strongest, bravest person he knows. And while she may put on a mask sometimes to cover up her fear the fact still remains.

“I know.” She says looking up at him, her eyes avoiding the TV completely. “Just kind of scary.” He kisses the top of her head and holds his lips there for a moment before he presses play again, Lucy still has her face buried into his chest but she has one eye on the TV.

He reaches over to grab a handful of popcorn as he watches the movie laughing at how ridiculous this all is.

He looks down at Lucy who still has one eye on the TV. He presses pause again and then lifts her up.

“Are you enjoying this movie?” He asks her and she chews on her lip and shakes her head. She reaches over to grab a handful of popcorn. He watches as she pops it in her mouth one by one.

“You watch crime documentaries all the time.” He points out. “And you deal with.. the very depths of humanity every day. We fought off masked attackers.” He shudders at the memory of Lucy pinned against the wall with the masked attacker’s hand at her throat. And how he fought of the men attacking him so he could get to her.

“But that’s real and in front of me. I can help, I can solve it. It’s horrible and I wish it never would happen. And we fought them off together and because we are trained to do that. This is watching people get murdered one by one for no reason. And was suppose to be entertaining?” She says and Tim laughs as he gathers her in his arms.

“It was suppose to be entertaining.” He says. “That’s all it is though. Entertainment.”

“So if I go to an abandoned house in. Texas there won’t be a crazed man wearing skin as a mask who kills me?” She asks.

Tim laughs and kisses her softly on the lips. “Probably not but even if there were. I would be there to protect you.” He says. “Even though I know you could fight them off.”

“I could.” She agrees. “But you know we make a great team and we do things better together. Including fighting off Leatherface or whatever his name is.”

Tim huffs out a laugh and changes the channel to Lucy’s favorite baking show. It was a Halloween bake off, personally he found this scary. Everyone getting all competitive of cake and cupcakes.

Lucy cuddles into him some more and Tim watches as she watches the show intently. Her eyebrows furrowed as the judges critique a very elaborate ghost cake.

“Hey.” He whispers into her hair. We are better together.” Lucy hums her agreement, and lays her head on his chest.

“I would fight Leatherface with you.” She says. “I know you don’t need protecting though but I would be at your six.”

Tim grins down at her knowing he would go to the ends of the earth for Lucy again and again. He would fight off as many masked attackers that he could for her.

“You don’t need protecting either. But I would do it anyway.” He says. “I would fight off everyone for you.”

“Even the clown from It?” She asks. Tim makes a face because clowns were really not his thing.

“Yes.” He says. “I would because you are worth fighting for.”

Lucy makes a soft noise and climbs on to his lap wrapping her arms around his neck and setting in.

“You are worth fighting for too Tim Bradford.” She says. “I hope you know that.” Tim licks his lips and wonders how he got so lucky to have Lucy chose him. It’s hard to believe she did some days and that chooses him every single day.

Tim leans his forehead against hers and breathes her in knowing they would have many more nights like these. And someday with their kids tucked in besides them, because for once he can imagine his future and it’s with Lucy.

“I love you.” He mutters.

She doesn’t reply right away instead she presses her lips to his and kisses him and then finally she whispers it back. Her voice low and sincere. “I love you too Tim.”

[ikeromantic]

Alice in College pt 4

An IkeRev Central characters AU! Written for my IkeRev 1K Celebration, a boarding school AU was the poll winner. Approx. 3800 words. 4/6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“I am an idiot. I always give myself very good advice but do I take it? Nooooo . . .” Alice stood in the empty dining hall, wondering again why she’d decided to come. The reason was simple. Curiosity. But on balance, it wasn’t exactly a great reason, or even a good one. 

The door swung open, and Alice startled. “Da- oh.” It wasn’t Dalim standing there, but some stranger. A student she had not met. He was tall and lean, with dark brown hair and wide, grey eyes like a stormclouds. Oddly enough, he had a similarity to the kid Blanc and Loki hung out with, right down to wearing a matching top hat. 

“You.” The guy crossed his arms. “You do realize dinner was over an hour ago?”

“Umm. Yes?” She frowned. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Alice.”

“And I don’t have time to introduce myself to an idiot.” He looked around. “So. Why are you here after hours? It’s against the rules.”

Alice sighed. “I’m waiting on a friend. But if you’re going to tattle on me, I can just leave now.” 

He held up a hand. “I didn’t say I was going to tell on you. Just be careful. There are worse things than detention with Mousse.” 

“What, like Dean will turn me into a frog for a year?” She grinned. 

“Dean won’t, no. But he isn’t the one in charge.” He paused, his gaze narrowing. “People have gone missing here. Or died. People like you.”

Alice felt a flutter of fear in her belly, but didn’t want to let him know he’d scored a point. “Yeah, well, if it’s so scary, what are you doing here after hours? You could be in danger too.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “Me? No. I’ll be fine. I’ve got defenses. But you? You should stay where it’s safe. Where the lights are on and the rest of the students hang out.”

“Look, I’m not going to let you scare me. I’m not defenseless either. I know how to protect myself.” Alice tried not to think back on London and the times she ducked into a shop or ran home to get there before dark. She’d never been very brave, but she wanted to be. 

“Your head really is full of hot air, like a balloon.” He took a long breath, clearly not buying her bravado. Finally, he reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a powder compact or small mirror. “If you aren’t going to be sensible, then take this.” He handed it to her. “If someone - or something - bothers you, just point it at them and twist.”

Alice looked down at the thing uncertainly. “What does it do? I don’t want to hurt anyone . . .”

“It puts them to sleep. What did you think?” He snorted. “You really are such a dummy.” 

“And you’re mean and rude, so I think between the two of us, I’ve got it better.” Alice stuck her tongue out at him.

“Pfft, and people think I’m a kid?” He started laughing.

Alice couldn’t believe anyone would confuse him for a child, even if he slung insults like one. “Anyway, thanks for the - the thingamajig.” She pocketed it. 

“I haven’t named it yet, but I was thinking about calling it a sleep stick. Catchy, right? It’s a prototype, so be careful with it. And with yourself.” He added the last bit in a quiet voice, his expression going serious. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alice. And don’t forget. You owe me one now.” 

“Hey! I don’t owe you anything! If it’s like that, take your - hey!” Alice called after him, but the guy was gone. And he hadn’t even told her his name. “What a weirdo.”

“The school is full of them,” said a voice just behind her. 

Alice leapt and spun, her heart hammering in her chest. She held the sleep stick out like a tiny baton. 

Dalim grinned. “Whatcha going to do with that, princess? I’m not in the mood for a nap.” His smile hinted at all kinds of things he was in the mood for. 

Alice lowered her odd little weapon and tucked it into a pocket. “You really shouldn’t sneak up on people. And you should stop calling me princess. You know my name.”

“Yeah, but you’re too beautiful for such a simple name. Calling you princess is the least I can do to respect your charms.” He said all this with a straight face, and every word of it put another degree of heat into Alice’s inflamed cheeks. 

“You can stop flirting with me too. That’s probably the same line you use on every new girl.”

Dalim chuckled. “Only the gorgeous ones.” But he did look somewhat chastened and his smile relaxed into something more natural. “Thanks for meeting me here tonight. I half expected that you wouldn’t show.”

“I shouldn’t have.” Alice frowned at him, but her heart wasn’t in it. “So . . . what are we doing? Nothing against the rules?”

He shrugged. “Not explicitly?” She didn’t say anything to that, so he went on. “I thought we could hang out. And . . . I have some contraband from town.” Dalim’s grin widened. “Amon and I were saving it for a special occasion, but spending time with you is pretty special.”

He was at it again with the cheesy pick-up lines, she thought, but it was kind of endearing. “Alright. But if I get in trouble again, I’m never forgiving you.”

“Understood.” 

Dalim led her to the boys’ wing of the school. This was where all the guys bunked in single and double dormitories. Most of the room doors were wide open, with guys shouting to each other across the hall, tossing balls back and forth or shooting each other with paper wads. A couple of people she’d met in class waved at her as they passed.

They stopped at one of the closed doors and Dalim knocked. A moment later, the door opened a crack, and Amon peered out. “There you are.” That was all he said before opening the door just wide enough to let the two of them in.

Amon wasn’t in his hoodie or scarf, just a loose black t-shirt and thin black pajama pants. He gave Alice a thin-lipped smile. “I didn’t think Dalim could talk you into coming.”

“I’m very persuasive,” Dalim laughed. He shut the door behind them as Alice stepped inside and looked around. 

She’d expected the room to be about the same size as her own and the ones she’d seen in passing, but it was quite a bit larger. There was room enough for a small, worn leather couch, a bookshelf, the two beds, and a table. 

“Corner space,” Dalim said, before she could ask. “Amon’s family pulled some strings for us.” 

“Nice.” She sat down on the couch and was surprised when Amon joined her. 

He studied her face in silence, as if waiting for her to do something interesting. 

Dalim grabbed some glasses and a bottle from a box under his bed. The bottle was smoked glass, and some liquid moved beneath the dark exterior. It was a little bigger than a wine bottle, and similarly corked. “The cups don’t match. Sorry about that, pri- Alice.” 

“I’m not fancy.” She averted her gaze from Amon, who was still watching her. “So what is it? What’s in the bottle?”

“Wine bottled from fruit gathered in the magic forest. Grown near naturally occurring magic crystals. They say it has all kinds of extra qualities.” Dalim raised an eyebrow. 

Alice peered cautiously at the bottle. Things in Cradle had a habit of being more dangerous than they appeared. “What kinds of things?”

“We’ll have to find out,” Amon answered for Dalim. “It’s our first time trying it too.”

“What he said,” Dalim agreed. He pulled the cork and began to pour. The wine, if that’s what it was, glimmered in the lamplight. It was gold in color, opaque and a little cloudy. The scent was sweet and reminded Alice of roses and honey, an aroma that grew stronger when Dalim handed her a cup.

“To new friendships,” Dalim held up his cup.

“Friendships,” echoed Amon.

Alice clinked her cup against theirs and took a sip. Whatever was in the glass, it wasn’t wine. That was her first thought. Her second was that it was amazing, and her third thought was that she wanted more. The drink tasted like summer felt. Warm and lazy, humming with life and light. It suffused her with a sense of wellbeing and nostalgia. 

“Kinda makes me feel like a kid again,” Amon said. He smiled at her again, and this time it didn’t look forced. “Just the good parts.”

Dalim nodded. “Yeah.” He gave Alice a questioning look. “Do you like it?”

“I think so. It’s really odd, but good.” She took another careful sip, wanting to hold onto this strange feeling for as long as she could. 

“What does it make you think about?” Amon’s eyes were on her, the strange topaz color shifting just like the cloudy drink in her cup, sparkling in the light. 

He was kind of cute, she thought, when he wasn’t scowling. His long, pale hair curled behind his ears, silky and fine. “Ummm. It reminds me of summer? I guess? Warmth and that feeling of just . . . not needing to be anywhere or do anything.”

“I think that’s a good description. It’s warm and sweet. Like a gentle kiss.” Dalim settled on her other side, sandwiching Alice between him and Amon. 

She laughed. “There you go again, trying to flirt.”

“I sense it isn’t working.” He sighed.

“Just lay off, Dalim. Let her relax.” Amon leaned back, giving her a little more space on his side. 

Alice was silently grateful for his comment as Dalim also leaned back. “So, what do you do for fun around here?”

“Other than flirting with lovely ladies like yourself?” Dalim chuckled. “There are plays, dances, festivals . . . I like to read. And Amon has his experiments.” He shrugged. “If you mean at school, there’s not much. A few clubs, sports.”

“What about you, Alice? What do you do when you’re at leisure?” Amon asked without looking at her. His eyes were unfocused and staring up into the rafters of the high ceiling. 

“Well . . . at home I would bake. Or write out recipes I had an idea for. I worked at a pâtissière, so I was always trying to come up with new ideas for sweets we could make.” She sighed. It seemed like ages ago, even if it was only a month. “I miss it sometimes? But I like Cradle. I chose to stay afterall.”

“Hm. Didn’t have anything to go back to?” Amon was paying attention now, his eyes as sharp and cold as gemstones.

“I - well, no. Not really.” She took a breath, wondering how much to share and whether she ought to say anything at all. “I had my job. My boss was very nice. And I had a roommate. But no one I needed to go back to.”

Dalim set a hand on her shoulder, a gentle caress. “That’s awful.” 

When she turned to face him, expecting his usual flirty smirk, she was surprised to find an expression of genuine commiseration on his face.

He seemed to realize it and let his hand drop. “It’s just, such a lovely lady deserves better than that. Don’t you think, Amon?”

“Yeah.” Amon was still focused on her, his full attention almost a pressure at her side. “You know, we could be like family. Me and you and Dalim. Friends, anyway. And that’s better than family.” He said the last bit with more passion, a flare of anger burning in the depths of his cold gaze. 

“I like to make friends. And you guys seem . . . nice? Nice enough, anyway.” Alice gave him a small smile. 

Dalim put a hand to his chest. “All that and I get ‘nice enough’? I am losing my touch.” 

“Maybe you are.” Amon threw a pillow at him. “Let’s stop talking about serious stuff and play a game.”

Alice perked up. “I love games! What will we play? Cribbage? Dominoes? I’m pretty good at checkers.”

Dalim and Amon exchanged a look that Alice didn’t catch. There was glee in Amon’s eyes and a certain wariness in his friend’s. 

“This is a special Cradle game. It’s played with magic.” Amon slid bonelessly to the floor, his back against the couch now. “We’ll teach you how to play.”

Alice helped herself down as Dalim found a spot nearby. “Ok. So what do we do? How does it work?”

“It’s really easy. I’ll use this magic crystal to make a little ball. And you will use your crystal to catch it and toss it to Dalim.” Amon handed her a small, glowing crystal. “On every pass, we’ll make the ball a little bigger until it pops. Whoever it pops on, loses.”

“Ok. I - I never did anything like that before but I can try.” Alice looked at the magic crystal in her hand. It was smaller than her pinky, and glowed with a faint blue light. 

Dalim leaned close. “Don’t worry, it’s not hard. When it’s your turn to catch, I’ll help you.” 

Amon gave a shrill laugh. His eyes turned red, like a bloody film drawn over them. The crystal in his hands dimmed for a breath and then a crackling ball of lightning appeared in the air just above it. “Impressed yet, Alice?”

“I am, actually. That is amazing.” She leaned closer and felt the hair prickle at the static surrounding the orb. “Is it safe to touch?”

“You might get a little zap if you. I don’t recommend it,” Dalim put a hand on her arm. When she leaned back, he let go. “So - to play the game, close your eyes.”

Alice did as she was instructed, though she didn’t want to. “And then?”

“Focus on the crystal in your hand. See it in your mind. Feel the pulse of magic in it, constrained by the structure. Eager to be let out.” Dalim’s voice was low and easy. 

She tried to feel for the pulse, reaching toward a power she didn’t quite understand. For a long moment, there was nothing but her own racing heartbeat. The crystal was cool in her palm, no different than any pebble she might pick up. A tension built between her eyes, and the mental image she had of the crystal wavered. When it did, she felt the first stirrings of the power within it.

“It hums,” she said softly. 

Amon laughed again. “Yeah, it is kind of a hum.”

“You’re doing great, princess. Now hold onto to that feeling, and open your eyes.” Dalim guided her to the next step with practiced ease. 

Alice slowly opened her eyes while still clinging to the tuneless hum of the magic crystal. Dalim and Amon swam into view. They were both staring at her. 

“You got it,” Dalim smiled. “I can tell because your eyes are as red as Amon’s” 

“S-so now what?”

Amon answered. “When I toss this lightning at you, you’re going to reach for it. But you’re going to use the hum you’re feeling in that crystal to reach out, not your hands.” He hunched forward, anticipation in every line of him. 

“Ready, princess?” Dalim gestured toward Amon. When he did, the pale-haired boy lifted the ball and lobbed it toward Alice. 

Her eyes went wide as she saw the roiling, crackling ball of lightning float through the air toward her. It seemed much larger than it had when it was just sitting above Amon’s hands. Her hair crackled with the static rolling off of it, and her skin prickled uncomfortably. She tried to reach with the hum of the crystal, to stretch out that vibration toward the ball, but the magic didn’t budge. 

Alice tried again as the lightning drew ever closer to her. She didn’t want to get a painful shock. Whatever she did, her connection to the crystal snapped, the hum disappeared, and the ball was almost to her. Panicked, Alice threw out a hand. “No!”

The ball of lightning winked out of existence.

Amon and Dalim stared at her, open mouthed. 

“W-what just happened?” Alice looked from one to the other.

“I told you she could do it.” Amon grinned widely. 

Dalim grimaced. “You broke the spell.” 

“Is that bad?” 

Amon took her hand. His skin was almost fever hot to the touch, dry, and soft as sin. “It’s fantastic. Truly.” His eyes were ablaze with unexpected passion. “You are the only person I know that can break a spell like that. Not counter it. Not block it. But break it.” 

“It’s a power from the Land of Reason. I wasn’t sure you could do it, but Amon thought if we pushed you, you would.” Dalim shrugged. “Good job.” He didn’t sound entirely pleased. 

“We should test it,” Amon said, his grin so wide it looked like it must be hurting his cheeks. “Practice with it.” He was positively gleeful, and his mood was catching.

“Yeah! We can see what sort of spells I can break. It’s like my very own super power.” Alice was getting excited now. She’d never had any kind of specialness to her - never excelled in anything. And now she had a special power no one else had. Well, no one in Cradle anyway. 

Dalim tugged her hand away from Amon’s grasp. “Sure. But not tonight. We need to plan it out. Figure out what we want to test for, what kind of challenges you need.” 

Amon’s gaze narrowed as he looked at his friend, but after a moment he nodded. “Fine. It can wait on proper planning. But let’s not put it off too long. We need to know if we can con- if she can control it at will.” 

“And we will. Later.” Dalim stood and helped Alice to her feet. “I think this is enough for tonight.”

She nodded. “I am excited but he’s right. Let’s get together tomorrow and decide what we want to test and how it works. I don’t want to be caught by surprise again. If I’m going to be your guinea pig, I get a vote on what we’re doing.”

Amon scowled, but after a moment, he nodded. “Fine.”

“Great. So we’re all in agreement.” Dalim still held Alice’s hand. “I’ll walk you back to your room, ok?”

“I can get there on my own.” Alice grinned. “Oliver helped me with reading the map, so it’s a lot easier to get around.” 

“Oliver, huh?” For a moment his smile fell, then it was right back in place. “Alright. Then I guess this is goodnight, huh?” He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing the lightest breath of a kiss across her knuckles. “Goodnight princess.”

Alice tried to hide the little shiver he gave her. It was really quite unfair, this flirtation. She liked Dalim, but he was too smooth. Too . . . polished. On the outside, anyway. She felt like there was more, but he hid it under this playful guise. “Goodnight, Dalim. Amon.” 

Dalim let her go and waved as she stepped out into the hall. The door closed and she was alone again. Well, as alone as one got in a hall of raucous boys. It was quieter than it had been, but there was still plenty of laughter and chatter as she passed on her way back to the girls’ dorms. 

Just as she passed from the well-lit and noisy corridor into the quiet stairwell, Blanc came into view. Alice felt inexplicably glad to see him. There was something about him that put her at ease. “Blanc!”

“Alice.” His gentle smile greeted her enthusiasm. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She grinned. “I was visiting with some new friends. Amon and Dalim.”

Blanc nodded. “Lovely. I am glad you’re making friends.” He fell into step beside her. “I hope you don’t mind my accompanying you? I am headed in the same direction.”

“I don’t mind at all. I like your company.” 

“And I, yours.” His eyes glinted in the low lamp light, reflected flames flickering warmly behind the rectangle of his glasses. 

Alice had the most absurd urge to reach out and tuck a strand of his messy, pale hair behind his ear. Such an intimate gesture and yet the feeling between them seemed to welcome it. Still, she kept her hands to herself. 

“I hope that wasn’t too forward,” Blanc said after an awkward silence. 

“No! No, I said it first. I like that you like me too. Or, my company? You like my company. I like yours. Too. Company. As well.” Alice fell silent again, feeling like an idiot. She was babbling and now Blanc probably thought she was an idiot. 

Blanc laughed, a soft breathy sound that made something inside her uncoil pleasantly. A tension she hadn’t even realized she had. “Perhaps I can persuade you, then, to join me for tea? I’d like to enjoy your company even more, if that’s alright.” 

“I would like that.” Alice couldn’t read the expression he wore when she said yes. A mix, she thought, of delight and some faint melancholy or regret. She wondered why he held onto that trace of sadness and where it had come from. Blanc was a mystery to her, with his reserved politeness and his warm smiles. She wanted to know everything about him. 

“Excellent. Then, instead of supper tomorrow in the dining hall, you and I will adjourn privately for tea. Just the two of us.” 

There it was again, she thought. That secretive smile that seemed to promise so much without giving away a thing. The sensual curve of his lips, the slight lift of his brows, and the heat in his rose petal gaze made her skin prickle pleasantly. “Alright. That sounds good. Should I bring something?”

Blanc reached out then, his gloved fingertips almost touching her cheek. “Just your lovely self.”

Alice nodded. Somehow, that almost-touch was more enticing than all of Dalim’s obvious flirtations combined. 

The door below them clattered open as a group of students passed through the stairwell and onto another floor. The chatter broke the moment, and Blanc’s hand dropped to his side again. Neither said anything as they made their way into the women’s dormitory. Alice wasn’t sure what to say and Blanc seemed lost in thought.

He stopped at her door and she stood beside him, not really wanting to go in yet, but lacking an excuse to stay and talk. 

“I believe this is goodnight,” he said, sounding as reluctant as she felt. “It’s silly, I suppose, but I feel as if I could sit and chat with you for hours. We’ve only really just met and I’m already prepared to talk your ear off.” Blanc gave a self-deprecating laugh. 

“I wish you would,” Alice said, and then realized how that sounded. Her cheeks went hot as she tried to find a way to mitigate the damage. 

Blanc smiled. “I will see you tomorrow, Alice. Until then.” 

She managed a passable goodnight of her own and then went in, not staying to watch him leave. 

Part 5

[sagau-my-beloved]

How do you think the archons would dress in our world?

Hell yeah this is fun to think about, I'll break my ideas down by Archon, but generally speaking none of them would deviate too heavily from their very obvious tastes, and you would have to give a decent amount of guidance in order to avoid any fashion disasters—

-

Venti:

• So he definitely sticks with the green color palette generally, that's a given, probably pairs it with some brown and other earthy tones

• I imagine he would dress in a way that both classifies as casual, but you could also get away with wearing it to a Renaissance fair, if you know what I mean (bring him to a Renaissance fair, I'm begging you, that could only go well)

• I'm thinking flowy clothes, or at least flowy shirts, and I feel like he would be really into patterns

• Nothing super crazy, but I almost feel like he would wear tie-dye ironically, like he's the type to look for the gaudiest most blinding piece of clothing and buy it instantly just for the shock factor

• (I hope you're ready for Christmas, because he's absolutely winning every tacky sweater competition)

• If he's attempting to be especially fancy then maybe a poet shirt, high waisted black pants/brown shorts with those straps that kind of look like suspenders and dress shoes, but that's mainly for performances

• Of course the braids are a must, but he would start experimenting with more hair clips with flowers on them and such

• Soon he'll have a hair accessory collection and you'll have the honor of styling it to your liking every day

• For beachwear he'd jump on Hawaiian shirts and swim shorts, would probably also make you get him one of those big floppy hats and he could put his Cecilia flower on it

• As for pajamas I imagine a rather basic t-shirt/tank top paired with general pajama pants/shorts, nothing fancy there

• Finally general accessories, for some reason I could see him wearing an ankle bracelet, along with clip on earrings of various kinds (specifically clip on), and I feel like he would find creative places to put the Cecilia he usually wears on his hat

• Like he might wear it as a bracelet one day, or as a brooch, or on the side of a belt where he used to put his fake vision, he would just want to incorporate that in all of his outfits

• I couldn't see rings but I could see a few non-metal bracelets, also I think a messenger styled bag just really suits him

-

Zhongli:

• You know that mid-thirty's male History/English teacher that you probably had a crush on at some point in high school?

• Yeah, that's how he dresses

• You might be able to discourage him from wearing full on suits everywhere, but collared shirts and dress pants are pretty much a given

• Never let it be said they don't look good on him, but he could pull anything off

• You might be able to get him to trade out the dress pants for a darker jeans, but the button up collared shirt is staying (tho on casual days you could convince him to unbutton a few of the top ones)

• Colors wise, it's pretty obvious that he would stick to the basic blacks, greys, and occasional golds on accent pieces

• If you beg him he might wear a floral print beach shirt and flip flops on beach days, I don't see him swimming heavily so sadly the shirt will probably stay on

• Now for pajamas, the funny answer is the striped pants and matching striped shirt combo, the more realistic answer is a black t-shirt and sweatpants (we can finally admire his arms thank god—)

• Accessories wise I could see a standard decent looking watch, obviously he's keeping the earring, and maybe a small necklace with something that reminds him of you that he keeps tucked under his shirt, along with a pretty killer belt he wears with every outfit

-

Ei:

• She was very happy to find that the general styles in Inazuma do still more or less exists in the form of traditional Japanese clothing, but you're gonna have to steer her off into something a bit more casual

• I feel like she would be surprisingly into more muted vintage clothing, and you would have the honor of introducing her to thrift stores

• Obviously sticks with purples and lavenders, which pair pretty well with both black and white

• If you can't tell, I have a thing for black pants, but I just really think they would pair so well with a lavender sweater

• She could pull off a blazer really well, just saying

• And I really think she would just default to corporate office style for anything formal, could be skirt or pants depending on the event

• I could also see her pulling off flannel pretty well, just in general, but she might need some convincing for that because I don't see her as a willing pattern person

• For beach clothes I think she would rely pretty heavily on what you would like to see her in, probably wouldn't want to do anything too revealing though (I personally want to see her in a very cute flowy purple sundress, but that's just me)

• Bikinis are probably pushing the limit unless you happen to be wearing one too, but one pieces would be fine

• Pajama wise I feel it's either a very expensive looking satin/silk long shirt and pant combo, or something a bit more basic, like a nightgown, but a pretty one with lace and stuff, gotta stay classy

• There's not a whole lot to expand on when it comes to accessories, I do feel like she's the most likely to wear brooches though, maybe has a collection of them

• Would probably also cycle through a variety of necklaces, bracelets, rings and earrings, just whatever fits with the current outfit, a very versatile accessorizer

• Though if you give her a particular accessory she's going to try to incorporate it in everything, naturally, any gift from you is precious

[legacyshenanigans]

I was bored and I found a

"Questions nobody asks"

Thing on the Internet, and I wanna do it 🤣 could consider it as a "get to know me" thing, I guess, haha. Gonna undercut though, because its kinda long. 🤍

1. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR CLOSET DOORS OPEN OR CLOSED?

Who the fuck goes to sleep with their closet doors open?! 🤣

2. DO YOU TAKE THE SHAMPOOS AND CONDITIONER BOTTLES FROM HOTELS?

Ew no haha, because they tend to be shitty shampoos and conditioners. I'm very particular with what I put on my hair.

3. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR SHEETS TUCKED IN OR OUT?

Out, I would feel EXTREMELY uncomfortable if my sheets were tucked in, I move around a lot in bed hahaha.

4. HAVE YOU STOLEN A STREET SIGN BEFORE?

Not a street sign no, I stole one of those big umbrellas from outside a pub once though🤣

5. DO YOU LIKE TO USE POST-IT NOTES?

Not really. No reason to.

6. DO YOU CUT OUT COUPONS BUT THEN NEVER USE THEM?

Nope.

7. WOULD YOU RATHER BE ATTACKED BY A BIG BEAR OR A SWARM OF BEES?

I'm terrified of bees and wasps and shit like that hahaha, but I reckon my chance of survival would be higher with a swarm of bees?

8. DO YOU HAVE FRECKLES?

I do, under my makeup haha.

9. DO YOU ALWAYS SMILE FOR PICTURES?

Nope. 🤣

10. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVE?

People trying to talk to me when I have earphones in. A VERY quick way to get on my fuckin nerves.

11. DO YOU EVER COUNT YOUR STEPS WHEN YOU WALK?

No? 🤣

12. HAVE YOU PEED IN THE WOODS?

Yes. 🤣

13. HAVE YOU EVER POOPED IN THE WOODS?

.....Yes. 😅 (while camping in the middle of nowhere, when ya gotta go, ya gotta go)

14. DO YOU EVER DANCE EVEN IF THERE’S NO MUSIC PLAYING?

All the time. 🤣

15. DO YOU CHEW YOUR PENS AND PENCILS?

I used to. Not so much these days.

16. HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE YOU SLEPT WITH THIS WEEK?

Well, I'm in a monogamous relationship, sooooo. One, lol.

17. WHAT SIZE IS YOUR BED?

King.

18. WHAT IS YOUR SONG OF THE WEEK?

Helicopter Girl - Satan's Seventh Bride.

19. IS IT OK FOR GUYS TO WEAR PINK?

Yeah? Sure? Why not?

20. DO YOU STILL WATCH CARTOONS?

Yesssss.

21. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE MOVIE?

I can't even remember the name of it! Me and my mum are big horror fans, and we hunt for horror films together, and it was your standard, stereotypical folk move into a house. House is spooky. Spooky things happen ect. ect. ect. But it was FUCKING SHITE! 🤣 So THAT hahaha.

22. WHERE WOULD YOU BURY HIDDEN TREASURE, IF YOU HAD SOME?

Near a tree in a woods, then I'd leave a vague note just saying "Its under a tree in *name of woods* " 🤣 That's ALOT of ground to search, hahaha.

23. WHAT DO YOU DRINK WITH DINNER?

Depends on what I'm eating.

24. WHAT DO YOU DIP A CHICKEN NUGGET IN?

I'm a Tommy K gal. 🤣

25. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FOOD?

I fucking LOVE Kinder Buenos.

26. WHAT MOVIES COULD YOU WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND STILL LOVE?

The HP films.

27. LAST PERSON YOU KISSED/KISSED YOU?

My fella.

28. WERE YOU EVER A BOY/GIRL SCOUT?

I went to Rainbows when I was a little kid, then I went to Brownies (similar kinda thing as Scouts) but I ended up leaving brownies after only going twice because I HATED one of the brownie leader women 🤣

29. WOULD YOU EVER STRIP OR POSE NUDE IN A MAGAZINE?

Sure, why not? Haha.

30. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WROTE A LETTER TO SOMEONE ON PAPER?

It's been a lonnnnng time since I've written a letter to someone. Phones exist now, haha.

31. CAN YOU CHANGE THE OIL ON A CAR?

Yeah.

32. EVER GOTTEN A SPEEDING TICKET?

Nope.

33. EVER RAN OUT OF GAS?

Nope.

34. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE KIND OF SANDWICH?

Sandwiches in general are top tier scran, but I like meaty big ones 🤣

35. BEST THING TO EAT FOR BREAKFAST?

A can of redbull and a cigarette. 🤣

36. WHAT IS YOUR USUAL BEDTIME?

Depends on my sleeping pattern, sometimes a good 10/11pm sometimes 5/6am. 🤣🤣

37. ARE YOU LAZY?

Yes. Ain't even gonna lie lmao.

38. WHEN YOU WERE A KID, WHAT DID YOU DRESS UP AS FOR HALLOWEEN?

I mentioned above that my mum likes horror, so she would dress me as things like Vampires, Werewolves, The Devil, general monsters haha, which is funny to me because we'd usually all go trick or treating together with my friends and their mums, and my friends would always be things like princess's lmao.

39. WHAT IS YOUR CHINESE ASTROLOGICAL SIGN?

Is that the same as Zodiac? I believe I'm the Rooster.

40. HOW MANY LANGUAGES CAN YOU SPEAK?

Two.

41. DO YOU HAVE ANY MAGAZINE SUBSCRIPTIONS?

In 2023? No lol.

42. WHICH ARE BETTER: LEGOS OR LINCOLN LOGS?

Wtf are lincoln logs?! Hahaha. Legos.

43. ARE YOU STUBBORN?

Absolutely.

44. WHO IS BETTER: KIMMEL OR FALLON?

Who?

45. EVER WATCH SOAP OPERAS?

Nah.

46. ARE YOU AFRAID OF HEIGHTS?

Nah I'm pretty good with heights.

47. DO YOU SING IN THE CAR?

Every damn time. 🤣

48. DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER?

I don't actually haha, hum maybe, but not sing.

49. DO YOU DANCE IN THE CAR?

As a passenger, yeah, sometimes.

50. EVER USED A GUN?

Yeah.

51. LAST TIME YOU GOT A PORTRAIT TAKEN BY A PHOTOGRAPHER?

At my last day of HS party (Prom basically)

52. DO YOU THINK MUSICALS ARE CHEESY?

I just HATE musicals tbh. 🤣

53. IS CHRISTMAS STRESSFUL?

Not really.

54. EVER EAT A PIEROGI?

What? 🤣

55. FAVORITE TYPE OF FRUIT PIE?

Cherry!

56. OCCUPATIONS YOU WANTED TO BE WHEN YOU WERE A KID?

Honestly, I can't remember 😅

57. DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS?

100%, I've seen one, don't expect people to believe me, but I know what I saw.

58. EVER HAVE A DEJA-VU FEELING?

All the time!!

59. DO YOU TAKE A VITAMIN DAILY?

No, but I probably should lmao.

60. DO YOU WEAR SLIPPERS?

Fuckin love a good pair of slippers.

61. DO YOU WEAR A BATHROBE?

Yeah.

62. WHAT DO YOU WEAR TO BED?

Depends on the weather.

63. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CONCERT?

Nickelback 😅 (DON'T JUDGE ME!)

64. WALMART, TARGET, OR AMAZON?

Well, can't lie, 2 outta 3 of those we don't have in my country haha.

65. NIKE OR ADIDAS?

Adidas.

66. CHEETOS OR FRITOS?

Cheetos because I dunno wtf Fritos are haha.

67. PEANUTS OR SUNFLOWER SEEDS?

Peanuts!

68. EVER HEAR OF THE GROUP BLACK PINK?

Nope.

69. EVER TAKE DANCE LESSONS?

Nope.

70. IS THERE A PROFESSION YOU PICTURE YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE DOING?

It was never something I thought about, infact when I first met my fella I had no idea what he did for work, and never asked because it wasn't important to me 🤣 turned out he had a very good job and I was just like "Oh OK cool" haha.

71. CAN YOU CURL YOUR TONGUE?

Yeah.

72. EVER WON A SPELLING BEE?

I've never competed in one.

73. HAVE YOU EVER CRIED BECAUSE YOU WERE SO HAPPY?

Yessss 🤣

74. OWN ANY RECORD ALBUMS?

Like Vinyl? I do actually haha, some Iron Maiden ones.

75. OWN A RECORD PLAYER?

My mum and Dad did. I don't.

76. DO YOU REGULARLY DIFFUSE OILS?

Yeah, daily, I love that shit haha.

77. EVER BEEN IN LOVE?

Yeah :)

78. WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE IN CONCERT?

Honestly, I don't really know, too many haha.

79. WHAT WAS THE LAST CONCERT YOU SAW?

It's been a while, but I went to a rock and blues weekend festival thing last year.

80. HOT TEA OR COLD TEA?

Neither.

81. TEA OR COFFEE?

Neither.

82. SUGAR COOKIES OR SNICKERDOODLES?

Don't know what either of those are 🤣 but Snickerdoodles sound DELICIOUS haha.

83. CAN YOU SWIM WELL?

Yeah I'm pretty decent.

84. CAN YOU HOLD YOUR BREATH WITHOUT HOLDING YOUR NOSE?

Yeah.

85. ARE YOU PATIENT?

NOOOOO 🤣

86. DJ OR BAND AT A WEDDING?

Band.

87. EVER WON A CONTEST?

Yeah a few in my time haha.

88. HAVE YOU EVER HAD PLASTIC SURGERY?

Define plastic surgery haha. I've had lip fillers a few times? Nothing crazy. Is that classed as PS though?

89. WHICH ARE BETTER: BLACK OR GREEN OLIVES?

NEITHER 🤮🤮 URGH.

90. CAN YOU KNIT OR CROCHET?

I used to be able to, been a long time since I have.

91. BEST ROOM FOR A FIREPLACE?

The living room.

92. DO YOU WANT TO GET MARRIED?

Yeeeeah one day, but we're chill. I'm engaged.

93. IF MARRIED, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN MARRIED?

I'm not, yet.

94. WHO WAS YOUR HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH?

Oh my god, there was this lad called Jordan in my HS...He would like, tease me all the time though, I would call it "Soft bullying" 🤣 and I LOVED him LMFAO! 😅 I think thats why I like guys who can be abit of a bastard haha.

95. DO YOU CRY AND THROW A FIT UNTIL YOU GET YOUR OWN WAY?

Not really. But I'm a very "Babyyyyyyy? Can I get this?" Kinda gal, to get what I want 😅😅

96. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?

Not yet.

97. DO YOU WANT KIDS?

I'd like to yeah.

98. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?

Purple.

99. DO YOU MISS ANYONE RIGHT NOW?

Not really.

~

[magalidragon]

hands of fate | chapter 4 teaser

And you all thought I abandoned this fic didn’t you? Hee hee. I’m almost done with the smut and once it is done I will post. Just two and a half scenes. Thought I would post the teaser now to help me finish the rest.

Jon propped his head on his folded arms, over the top of the couch. He smiled gently, his eyes narrowing. "Are you wearing my clothes?"

"Hmm, yes." She skipped over and jumped over the couch, falling into his arms, hers going to loop around his neck. She murmured over his mouth. "Got a problem with that?"

"Quite the contrary."

She had never felt so bloody giddy after spending the night with someone before. This was truly a surreal experience. Least of all because it was the holidays and she really had been planning on being a mopey grinch the entire season. Jon was quite the surprise. She nuzzled her nose against his, whispering. "Well that's a good thing, because this is a very comfortable shirt."

"Keep it, it looks better on you than me."

"Hmm, flattery and coffee will get you everywhere."

"Even back in bed?"

She swatted his chest lightly, leaning backwards and twisting to get to the coffee he'd set down for her. She straightened up, his mouth gaping stupidly. She tapped his nose and flung her leg back over his thigh so she was seated beside him, tucking her feet under her. "Close your mouth Jon Snow." Feeling playful, she stuck her tongue out, wagging it at him. "Or I might just have to fill it with something."

He laughed, rasping. "I think that might be preferred."

"Hmm," she giggled. She sipped the coffee, sighing in relief. It really was unhealthy how much she was addicted to the stuff, but gods, it sustained her. She leaned against his shoulder and he lazily tossed his arm over hers, as she cuddled against him, incredibly comfortable, the most natural thing in the world, to be this close to someone so soon. It was unheard of for her. She hummed over the top of the cup. "So what are we going to do today?"

"You're not working?"

"Nope."

"Need to check on your dragons?"

She clicked her tongue. "Yes, I do. They might have eaten each other by now. I always leave dry food for them, but of course they hate it."

"Of course."

Dany gazed around the living room, noting the half-lived in space. It was really his, despite still missing certain things. Empty spaces on the walls, no knickknacks. He was spartan, that was for sure. Save for those gorgeous paintings by his mother. She rubbed her foot on Ghost's belly, the massive dog at the other end of the couch, eager to get scratches.

It was so bloody domestic, she could vomit, she thought. Who would have pictured her in a scene like this? Gods, even when she was with her previous two long-term love interests she never felt as calm and collected as she was right now. She briefly wondered what was <i>wrong</i>, when that other shoe would drop.

And she thought of what Davos might say to that: Why go looking for a reason to ruin it, Daenerys, when you could be in the moment? Isn't that what this is about? Living life as full as you can?

Yes, she thought, nodding aimlessly to herself, sipping her coffee, while she heard the heartbeat of the man behind her who almost didn't have one for some time, and her feet buried in his massive dog's fur. She was going to enjoy this. She rested her head a little further down on his chest, turning slightly so she could hear it again.

Thud...thud...thud.

His fingers idly caressed her hair. "Kind of creepy, you're listening to someone else's heartbeat," he murmured.

She smiled, lifting her eyes up and meeting his-- they weren't the sad, haunted dark tunnels she'd first noted when they met that evening in the group therapy. They were teasing, relaxed in the corners, almost sleepy. He had reason to be sleepy, she thought lecherously, folding her hands over his heart and dropping her chin to them. "Kinda' creepy, you playing with my hair," she tossed back, but smiled. She liked it; it was relaxing.

He grinned. "I like your hair. It's not blonde, but it's not silver...but it's not white or gray."

"It's Targaryen," she said.

"That's why I like it. It's you.”

[sezja]

Guilty Pleasure, Part 2

Part One

One of a bard's greatest tools is the power of observation, Jehantel once said - a good bard knows to keep his eyes and ears open, and to pay attention. After all, adapting to changing circumstances is as much a bard's key skill as it is any other archer's. And, given their purpose for being in the city, Guydelot's been keeping an eye on the comings and goings of the Forgotten Knight's many patrons, both upstairs and down - any one of them might know something, sure, but more to the point, any one of them might know someone who might know something. A tavern's greatest asset is information, after all.

Which is to say, Guydelot knows when Sanson arrives that night. The door upstairs opens, letting in a burst of frigid air that makes the lights flutter, and then closes... but no one comes down the stairs.

That's three nights in a row, the bard thinks, smiling to himself. It's a bittersweet satisfaction: the stiff little prig is listening to him play and sing; there's no question about that. There's no other reason for him to lurk at the top of the stairs like that, when he could just as easily go directly to their room in the tavern's inn. Sanson doesn't speak to anyone while he's sitting there, and he can hardly keep an eye on the main room from that angle; no, Guydelot is sure he's there to listen - to listen, and for no other reason.

The question is... why?

Why any of this, really. Sanson's out here in this gloomy, frozen city chasing a song. He's not a bard - he's not even a minstrel; Guydelot hasn't so much as heard the bastard humming to himself in their short time together.

Not, of course, that they're spending much time together. Guydelot's set up shop here in the tavern, with the innkeeper's blessing, while Sanson... well. Sanson's been out making inquiries, and having a rough go of it; if he's turned up any leads, he hasn't seen fit to share them. Which, Guydelot reasons, must mean he hasn't found any yet: otherwise the man would've dragged him off in pursuit, surely. He's like a hound on a hunt with no scent to chase, circling the same ground over and over again...

Might be as it's time I made my own move then, eh?

Letting his current song wind down to the end, Guydelot heads for the stairs, waving off a few good-spirited protests. He'll be back. He just needs a little fresh air... aye, and mayhap to tweak Sanson's tail a little, that too.

And there he is. Right where Guydelot knew he'd be.

Tucked against the wall, politely out of the way of anyone who might want to come downstairs, but resolutely not going down, himself. Squinting in the poor lighting, scribbling in his journal nonetheless. The pinched little frown Sanson wears - already very familiar - tells Guydelot all he needs to know, but he can't help asking: "No luck again?"

He watches Sanson's grip on his quill tighten, then relax. Oh, the little shite wants to yell at him, Guydelot can feel it. "I am making progress," he says instead, exquisitely level-headed. Never mind that his eyes are blazing with fury. And something that might, might, be pure hatred. "I am making some connections that might gain me access to the High Houses, all of whom have employed bards in the past." He pauses. "And what have you accomplished today, Guydelot?"

A number of things, really. A retired knightly gent had made a passing comment about his playing, saying it'd been an age since he'd last heard a proper singer in this tavern - and that the last he'd known of had been a young knight. A knight with a scholar's heart; a fellow who'd won the heart of his beloved by singing traditional Coerthan love songs. Now, the Ballad of Oblivion's no love song, to be sure, Guydelot knows, but it is old, if Sanson's prattling holds even a grain of truth. Might be as this knight knows a thing or two about old songs? It's a start, anyhow, and a better start than anything Sanson's got.

But if he tells Sanson all this, what'll happen? Guydelot knows too well what men like this do when they hear an idea they don't like. And if it turns out to be nothing, he'll be yelled at for wasting time.

Best if he pursues this one alone, eh? He can look into it, and if a lead comes of it, then he'll tell Sanson all about it.

Easy as it gets.

For now, though, he shrugs, all innocence. "Me? I'm makin' friends and comin' up with new songs. You should come down and hear 'em."

He's not sure why he keeps trying to lure Sanson down. It's amusing, maybe. Maybe he just wants to see what's under that stiff exterior; there's gotta be something. Jehantel likes Sanson well enough. Eve likes Sanson well enough. Hells, Guydelot wants to like the bastard, if he wasn't so dead-set on making himself unlikable in every possible way-

"I can hear you well enough from here."

Like so.

"There's better lighting down there." Uninvited, Guydelot plops himself down on the stair beside Sanson, leaning back. "Can't be good for your eyes, writing in the dark."

Is he imagining it, or does color creep into Sanson's cheeks? Can't be. Must be the light. "You'll block the stairs."

"There's plenty of stair left." He grins. "They build big in Ishgard."

"Scoot over, then," Sanson snaps, waspish. "You're in what little light I have."

He is blushing! Fancy that. "First you want me to make more room on the stair, now you want less? Make up your mind." He scoots closer instead, right up close. He slips an arm oh-so-casually around Sanson's shoulders. Where's the fun in this mission if he can't get Sanson the Stiff a little riled up? "How's your light now?"

"You-" Sanson stiffens under his arm, indignant and furious. "You are insufferable!" He snaps his journal shut. Jerks to his feet-

Nearly pitches forward down the stairs.

Guydelot's on his feet before he realizes it, grabbing for Sanson's arm. He gets a grip on the man's sleeve. Yanks.

And then Sanson's in his arms, clutched reflexively against his chest as though he's something... something precious, instead of the biggest headache Guydelot's ever had. His own heart's racing like he's run a malm, when all he did was stop an idiot from breaking his neck-

"I'm... let go of me," Sanson says, a touch more subdued now; the bard does as he's ordered (for once). They step apart, abashed - and not quite able to meet one another's eyes. Finally, Sanson sighs. "That was foolish." And then, a little more strangled, "Thank you, Guydelot."

He shrugs, discomforted. "Aye, well, I was being an ass." So much for tweaking Sanson's tail! He'd nearly spooked the man so bad he cracked his head open. "Listen, Sanson," he says, while they're not at one another's throat for the moment, "There's this-"

"I should go," the man says instead, hurrying down the stairs with as much dignity as he can manage, retreating - as he does every night - to their room, before Guydelot can try to bridge the gulf between them.

Guydelot watches him go, hating the way his heart's still racing in his chest, aching against his ribs. What's that about, anyhow? Sanson's fine. Better than fine.

He drags a hand through his hair, heading for the door - now he really needs fresh air. Tomorrow he'll set out in pursuit of his own lead, he decides, simmering with something that isn't quite anger. Tomorrow, maybe, he'll show Sanson just what he can do. And then, maybe, he'll be able to convince Sanson to come down and hear him play, just for a little while.

Maybe.

[kennyomegasweave]

Clyde's Thoughts On The Only Friends Mains After Episode 8:

This is entirely on vibes cause I miss when we were all just so excited to have Messy Gays: The Series.

Boston: Him drinking alone at the bar while sadly looking at pictures of him and Nick? Hilarious from a self proclaimed man with no feelings or attachments. Basically going "fuck it, why not?" when he realized Cheum's baby brother wants to smash? You can't blame a hoe for doing what hoes do. He very clearly doesn't want Top's dick anymore, making all his earlier actions even more insane because he was an entire circus trying to get a repeat performance, finally got it, got called a pathetic mistake the next day, and just said alright and moved on. Did he dress up like Tyler Durden, Peter Quill, or just a hot dude wearing a red leather jacket? The world may never know.

Nick: He really did bug Boston's car and just sat on that audio listening to it for his own humiliation and/or degradation and/or cuck kink. At no point did he have a plan for that audio except for his own personal use to cause a smad boner. Him and Boston really deserve each other cause they both make insanely stupid decisions for no reason except boyish whimsy (fucking your friend's man, outright antagonizing every single one of your friends and then being like “fine I’m a pariah”, illegal voyeurism, wanting your not man man to not hate you but telling his ex friend and new found enemy about where to find illegal filmed revenge porn of him). His new boss 100% wants to explore his body and he has no idea. I predict struggles in his future because of that when all he deserves are snuggles. And make no mistake, he deserves snuggles despite being a weird little voyeur. Is it illegal for a boy to have INTERESTS and HOBBIES? I didn't think so.

Sand: GET ON UP OUT OF THOSE TRENCHES BROTHER. As I've said for eight straight episodes, Jesus be some self esteem for Sand. Because GET OFF YOUR KNEES GIRL RISE UP OFF THAT GROUND. But bless him, he did try more in episode 8 than he's tried the previous seven. I'm not even upset that's only trying cause he thinks Ray loves Mew and he's sad about that and not because he thinks Ray sucks even a little bit. So I award him 50 points for finally telling Ray to fuck off, but still deduct 100 for almost getting himself arrested trying to save Ray from his own stupid self centered actions. I want him to lay on his bed and listen to New Rules on repeat until he internalizes it, lives, and breathes it. Because you know he's only calling cause he's drunk and alone. Sadly, he's a textbook "behind every bad bitch is an ain't shit man dragging her down while she’s Ariel screaming DADDY I LOVE HIM." He and Nick making a bestie pinky promise that they're both done with those flop boys, but then both still being at the party, tells us all they've both already lost. We’ve all been there and you hate to see it.

Top: I am standing before you all today as a noted Top Hater since episode one to tell you I really did mostly hate this young man solely cause he dresses like a 48 year old uncle. I'm a weak shallow individual and I've never claimed to be otherwise. But baby he put those polos AWAY in episode 8 and looked hella good. Him in that Top Gun flight suit? I am looking disrespectfully, carnally, and like a whore. I see why Boston was desperate to bounce on that dick again, I see why Mew's just dissociating with booze and coke. I see the vision. Call me Rapunzel because at last I see the light.

Mew: It's sad watching him be utterly devastated over Top and his polos because he got played, in a way, by a 22 year old wearing polo shirts buttoned up to the top and tucked into dress pants. I know that stings, because how could it not. But he's a drunken woo girl and I’ll always go up for any and all characters that get white girl wasted. I appreciate how much he just doesn't see it for his bestie Ray in any romantic or sexual way at all. I also appreciate how he's just not cut out for the slut life. There's nothing wrong with slutting it up, I was a prolific slut in my heyday, but there's also nothing wrong with not being cut out for it either. He needs to stop getting blackout drunk and doing lines and just meet Top's mom to tell her her son sucks.

Ray: He’s on my shit list right now and I make zero apologies. But he has beautiful big cow eyes. I just really need to see him fucking wrecked because Khao is, imo, by far the best actor on this show where I don't think anyone is bad. And as previously mentioned, I am a weak shallow individual and if you give me a cute short king with how now brown cow eyes crying at rock bottom? Well I'm gonna cuddle him to my bosom. So I have nothing good to say right now, but I hope to cuddle him to my bosom in episode 11. 

I forgot how much fun this show is. I was too connected to tumblr, but now I'm letting the mess flow through me and I'm living. Thank you and god bless.

[rayslittlekitten]

WIP 10/13/2023

Happy Friday the 13th! I've been a bit busy but trying to write in a few words when I can. I've been working on this Dad!Will x Wife fic and not just can I not wait to finish it, but I"m also super excited to share it with y'all. It's very much typical Dad!Will x Wife fashion. Super sweet and swoony. Here is an excerpt:

After the luck of the draw of picking a bistro you haven't been to in a while, the next step is to figure out what to wear. The two of you take a peek at each other's wardrobe options after a long, refreshing shower where Will decided to join you.

“The navy blue suit? Really?”

“You look handsome in any color but this one really brings out your eyes,” you tell him. “But most of all, I love how your butt looks in it.” You giggle and give his behind a squeeze.

"Do I have to wear a tie?" he whines.

You nod.

“Fine," he submits. "Well, I haven’t seen you in this sexy number in a while.” Will pulls out a dress from the back of your closet and presents it to you.

“Because I never have a reason to wear it.” You look at the slinky dress with an open back as you walk towards It. “I can’t even remember the last time I wore this. Don't you think this is a little over the top for where we're going?”

"I'm wearing a suit and tie. I don't think you'll be the only one overdressed."

"Okay, that's fair."

As the two of you start getting dressed in front of each other, you notice Will watching you. You slip into your dress, hoping you still fit into it. The fabric snugs over in the right places. The zipper in the back is low enough for you to pull on your own but Will helps you with it anyways. When he comes up behind you, you feel the heat of his body radiating against your bare back. He gently puts his palm on your lower back for a moment before sliding it down to the bottom of the zipper, holding it down while pulling the zipper up.

You expect him to walk away to finish getting dressed but instead, you feel him pressing his lips against your shoulder and neck as his hands knead your waist.

“Babe,” you giggle. “This is why I never wear this dress. Because we’ll never leave the house.”

“If my shirt wasn’t already tucked in, I’d take you right now, just like this.” He continues kissing and nipping at your skin, drawing a moan out of you. "Whoa, are you wearing underwear? Cause it doesn't feel like you have any on."

"Of course I am. I'm wearing a seamless thong," you tell him as you smooth out the dress.

"Now I remember why I don't like you wearing this out. I wanna show you off, but at the same time I don't want anyone looking at you the way I'm looking at you now."

His eyes rake over your body in the mirror.

"Well, know that you're the one I'm only going home with."

Turning around, you and Will steal glances at each other as you help him finish buttoning up his shirt for him and adjust his collar.

"I think that gray tie you have with the stripes will go well with the suit. It'll also compliment my dress."

"You don't think it'll also bring out my grays?" He asks, pointing to his head.

"Maybe, but trust me, it's a good thing. I've never wanted you more than I do now," you reach up and affectionately finger his graying sideburns. "And you're gonna have other women wanting you to take them home with you too," you chuckle.

"Even if I wanted to do that, I can barely handle you in bed. I don't need to add another woman," he replies.

"Uh huh," you smirk.

"Besides, she's just gonna be watching because all my attention would be on you," he says as he pulls you in against his body.

"Or you would be watching. How about that?" you tease.

"Nah ah. I'm greedy. I don't want anyone pleasuring you but me."

"Most guys would jump on that opportunity," you tell him, taken back by his response.

"Well I'm not most guys," he point out before leaning in to kiss you, but you pull back.

"We should get out of here or we'll never make it to dinner."

"Why don't we skip to dessert first?" His nose nudges against yours as his hands slide down to your ass.

"You mean the chocolate lava cake with a scoop of vanilla ice cream that I know you're gonna get?" you tease.

"You know what I meant."

"Already? Was shower sex not enough to hold you through until after dinner?"

"Seeing you in this dress got me all excited." He tries to kiss you again but you dodge him.

"Nah ah," you shake your head.

"Not even a kiss?" His eyebrows shoot up to his graying hairline.

You stare at him for a few moments with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth until you finally press your lips against his. He wraps his arms around your waist and presses your body against his as he deepens the kiss. You can feel his forming erection poking you, making you giggle. You pull back, breaking the kiss and leaving you both breathless.

"Now go put on a tie while I throw on some make up and fix my hair," you tell him.

"Yes, ma'am!"