#im actually working on something out of my comfort zone...again.

[secret-third-thing]

finally, after my grandmother's funeral, my cat being sick for nearly two weeks, and the longest work week of my life, I am back to writing. It feels like my brain doesn't remember how to do anything, though, and I keep telling myself I can have a mediocre draft. That's OKAY. 🐶

[rafeandonlyrafe]

dealer

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, female receiving oral, mentions of p in v sex, kind of shy/anxious!reader, dealer!rafe, no drug taking is actually done but mentions of weed and coke

“tina, i love you, i really do, but im not buying weed for you.” 

“its not buying! ill give you the money, just go pick it up from my dealer for me.” tina hands you a wad of cash, forcing it into your grip.

“what if i get caught with it?” you question, nerves already flooding your system. you aren't a complete straight edge, you're willing to drink occasionally and you've been to a couple parties before, but illegal drugs are way out of your comfort zone.

“relax, it's just weed! it's not like im having you buy coke from him or something.” tina laughs, and you wonder how this wild child became your best friend. 

“he sells coke?” you squeal.

“listen, babe.” tina places her hands on your shoulders. “you need to live a little. get out of your comfort zone. im not saying you need to take drugs, but you can at least go and pick some up for me.”

“fine.” you sigh, pocketing the cash.

“great!” seeing tinas wide smile, gracing her gorgeous face, is the only reason why you actually agreed to this. “he already knows im sending you to pick it up. he says it has to be today and ive got work.”

“you knew id agree?” you question. 

“of course.” tina shrugs. “you're my best friend.”

“alright, alright. good point.”

--

your eyes are wide as you approach the imposing house. you hesitate on the front porch, but ultimately force your hand to raise and knock on the door.

it opens a few moments later, and you’re not sure why you're surprised at the sight of the dealer. he’s put together and handsome, whereas you expected him to look disheveled and strung out, but you suppose that's more of the user than the seller.

“y/n?” he questions, looking you up and down. you hesitate to respond, your name sounding so smooth and silky coming from him. “picking up for tina?” “oh!” you nod quickly. “yes, yeah. sorry.”

the dealer smiles at you, clearly amused by your nerves. “i’m rafe. come in.”

you follow rafe into the house, shutting the door behind you. he leads you into the living room, gesturing for you to sit on the couch. you slide onto the soft material, not sure if this is normal or not, you’ve never bought any sort of drugs before.

“can i get you something to drink?” rafe asks.

“uh-” you clear your throat, looking around the living room to avoid making eye contact. “water is fine.”

rafe nods, leaving you alone in the spacious room before returning with two glasses of water, one with ice and one without.

“didn’t know if you wanted ice or not, take whichever.” rafe sets them both in front of you on the coffee table, and you reach for the one without ice, taking a polite sip. you’re too nervous to really drink it, but want to be courteous. you’re not sure if rafe is dangerous, he doesn’t really look it, but he must be by nature of being a drug dealer.

“let me grab you tinas weed.” rafe says, exiting the room again to return a moment later, with a baggie of weed in his hand. he sets it on the table, taking a seat on the arm chair across from the couch, facing you.

“tina gave me $50.” you say, pulling the cash out of your pocket and setting it on the table next to the weed. “is that good?”

“yes its good.” rafe laughs, not even bothering to grab the cash off the table and count it.

“i-i don’t smoke.” you say, unsure why you felt the need to make the confession. “or do any drugs. so i don’t really… know anything.”

“would you like me to teach you?” rafe asks, making your eyes widen as you shake your head no.

“i just wanted to explain why i’m so nervous.” you say, hands wringing together on your lap, wanting to escape the house.

“its cute.” rafe simply says with a shrug.

“whats cute?” you hum, confused.

“how nervous you are. you’re adorable.” rafe explains, making you blush and stare at the floor, muttering a quiet thank you.

“i should go now.” you say, needing to get out of under his intense gaze.

“let me walk you to the door.” rafe says, standing. you grab the bag off the table, putting it into your back pocket, regretting not bringing some sort of purse or bag to carry it in.

you stand up, tracing your steps through the complex house back to the front door. “thank you.” you say when rafe opens the door for you.

“no problem, y/n.” rafe practically purs your name out. “tell tina to call me when she gets home from work.”

“did i do something wrong?” you question, suddenly worried until rafe lets out a soft laugh. 

“not at all, baby.” you want to jump at the pet name, but simply nod and head out the door, not glancing back even though you can feel rafes intense eyes on you.

--

“rafe wants you to come to the party this weekend.” tina says.

“no.” you shake your head. “no way.” “come on.” tina flops onto your bed, batting her eyelashes at you. “he said he’d give me my weed for free if i get you to come.” “tina, no! he’s… he’s too intense.” “oh my god.” tinas jaw drops open. “did he flirt with you?” “i… i think so? he called me cute and-” you can’t even finish your sentence as tina screeches. “oh my god!! y/n you have to date him, he’s like the biggest catch on the island!”

“he is a drug dealer, tina! i’ve never even smoked weed and he fucking sells coke.” you whisper the last bit.

“he doesn’t like his girls to do drugs anyways.” tina shrugs. “it’s been like a year since he dated anyone though, and i��ve genuinely heard he’s a really good boyfriend. you remember lily? she was so sad they had to break up, said she only did because her family was moving to california.”

“how good of a boyfriend can a drug dealer be?” you question, not sure how it would be to be mixed up in that world, even if rafe was clearly small time, selling only to his peers on the island.

“think about it.” tina says. “he has a ton of cash, can buy you whatever you want, can get me free weed.” “what if i don’t want to fuel your addiction?” you question, but a smile plays on your lips. tina only smokes every once in a while, and she is by no means addicted, otherwise you wouldn’t agree to have bought the drug for her.

“please come to the party.” tina says, completely switching the subject. “for me.” she pouts, causing you to groan and lean your head back against the pillow while tina thanks you, knowing that means you’ve conceded to her.

--

“y/n.” the voice that you would recognize anywhere purrs into your ear. you whip around, coming face to face with rafe. “i’m glad you could make it.”

“i came because tina asked me to.” you say honestly. 

“ill make sure to get her her weed for free then.” rafe says with a nod, keeping true to his word.

“why did you want me to come?” you question.

“is it not obvious?” rafe raises his eyebrows. “i like you.”

“oh.” you blush, dropping your gaze down. “um… thanks. i like you too.” you know it's in a different way than rafe was implying, but honestly don't know what to say in response.

“yeah?” he questions, a smile playing on his face, completely ignore the guy who you assume must be his friend as he walks by and slaps rafe on the shoulder in greeting. “you like me the same way i like you?”

“it depends i guess…” you're truly trying to flirt back at this point, hoping your nerves don't give your voice a quiver. “how do you like me?”

“well.” rafe smirks, his eyes slowly sinking down your front, looking over your party outfit, a tight dress that tina insisted that you wear, borrowed of course out of her closet. “i want to get to know you better. take you out on a date. show you a good time. kiss you.” rafe leans in, teasingly close until you're able to feel his breath over your mouth. “and if you'd let me, take you up to my room. show you a good time.”

“oh.” you blush, cheeks surely flaring red. you have to clench your thighs together slightly, and it certainly doesn't go unnoticed by rafe. “i guess you could take me out on a date.”

“perfect.” he smiles, another grin that makes you want to melt into a puddle on the floor. he glances towards the door as a new man walks in, looking out of place compared to everyone else, his long black hair tied up in a ponytail. “ive got to go work for a bit, doll. enjoy my party with your friends, ill find you before the night is over.” he leans in, head turning at the last minute to press a delicate kiss to your cheek. 

rafe walks away and greets the man, his demeanor instantly changing from flirty and sultry to smiling and friendly as he claps hands with the new man, who you hear rafe call him barry.

“holy shit, holy shit!” tina runs up to you. you didn't even realize she was watching the entire interaction, so caught up in rafe.

“he wants to take me on a date!” you whisper-scream to tina, well aware that rafe is only on the other side of the room.

“you said yes, right?”

“girl, of course!” --

“hello beautiful.” rafe smiles as you open up the door. you’re glad that your parents are gone for the weekend. they never really care who you’re dating, having developed a lot of trust in you, but you didn’t even want to introduce them to rafe.

“hey rafe.” you smile back, accepting the kiss onto your cheek when he leans forward.

“got us a nice reservation at the country club.” rafe says, hand coming to the small of your back as he leads you towards his truck. he helps you climb in, not wanting you to fall in your heels.

“im really excited.” you admit after rafe rounds the hood and gets into the drivers seat, smoothly backing out of your long driveway.

“not nervous?” rafe questions, calling back to your meeting.

“im not buying drugs from you, so i think im okay.” you giggle, although you do have a bit of anxiety building, but only in the form of slight butterflies in your stomach.

“i like that you’re not a part of that scene.” rafe says, reaching over and looping your fingers together, resting your joined hands on the center console.

“you probably have a lot of girls try to date you to get stuff for free.” you assume.

“yeah.” he admits with a sigh. “don't get me wrong, i get it comes with what i do, but its frustrating to never know if someone is seriously into me.” you’re surprised by rafes confession, seemingly overly intimate and vulnerable for someone with his persona. you lean across the seats as he stops at a red light, pressing your lips to his cheek.

rafe smiles at you, squeezing your hand in appreciation. “can’t wait to kiss you when i drop you off back home.”

“talking about kissing me and haven’t even taken me on the actual date yet?” you say with a laugh.

“baby, i could take about eating you out or taking you from behind or kissing you. all of them are going to happen very soon.” your cheeks turn red as you swallow, suddenly turning silent as rafe pulls into the country club.

you’re not surprised how rafe is recepted as he leads you inside, the wait staff not even having to ask his name, already calling him mr. cameron before leading you towards the reserved table.

“this is really nice.” you admit with a whisper. you’ve never been inside of the country club before. you had heard that they have a pool, golf course, a bar restaurant area and then the fancier restaurant that you’re currently in, but you never had any reason to join.

“only the best for you, gorgeous.” rafe says with a smooth grin.

the dinner goes by just as smooth as his smile. its a set menu by the chef, but you found everything to be delicious, and feel perfectly filled by the end of it, not too stuffed but not hungry for more. you also feel like you know rafe much better, the conversation easily flowing.

its no surprise when rafe drives you back home that his hand lands on your thigh, even managing to creep underneath your skirt and touch your bare skin without you hollering and pushing his hand away like you would with any other guy.

“about that kiss…” rafe says when he gets you back home, standing on your doorstep.

“kiss and then what else were you talking about?” you hum, already knowing you’ve got a wet sport formed on your underwear just from his hand on your leg. “eating me out and taking me from behind?” “are you saying i can do all of those things tonight?” rafe smirks. he didn’t expect to get in your bed after one date, thinking he’d have to work a whole lot harder to convince you, but you are far too needy to deny him entry.

“i certainly won’t tell you no.” you smile, the grin quickly wiped off your face when rafe leans in, one hand on your cheek and the other moving to your waist, pulling you in tight to his body as his lips devour yours, mouth hot and wet against yours.

you fist a hand in his shirt, needing some sort of stabilization as you kiss for all your neighbors to see, moaning into his mouth when his hand moves lower to grip your ass, feeling the plump flesh under the fabric of your skirt.

you pull away from the kiss only to take a step backwards into the house, rafe quickly following you in. you practically race up to your room, trying not to seem too desperate.

the illusion is broken when rafe finally gets between your legs, having slowly undressed you and pressed kisses all over your body, showing special attention to your chest but ignoring your pussy until he was also naked, now laid between your spread thighs.

“such a pretty pussy for me baby.” rafe coos. “all mine now, understood?” “yeah, yeah.” you nod. “all yours.” you think to yourself that you will have to thank tina for begging you to pick up her drugs that day, and all the convincing shes done since as rafe leans forward, tongue swiping through your folds.

you let out a moan, hand reaching down to grip rafes hair as he moves upward, sucking your clit into his mouth.

yeah, you’ll definitely have to thank tina.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie

[yayll]

Could you maybe write smth up. About literally spoiling Dazai. Because i want to sit him down on the couch and kiss his pretty fucking face and buy him everything he even glances at.!! Hold his hand on walks, take him to like roooftops to stargaze and stuff and just stare at his PRETTY AHH FACE instead. Kiss his forehead goodnight!!! Cook him stuff and cuddle him and kiss him (again)!!!!....

Im lonely and past the point of no return sorry shdkhdkfjf

HIIII there, angel! i'm so sorry this took me a bit, but umm... i kind of went insane with this concept i read your ask and i immediately just blacked out because oh do i feel the same way about this god forsaken man.. and HEAVY on the spoiling. ahh, i hope it's to your liking, and i hope it makes u feel less lonely :') it was such a pleasure to write my first request xx

~ a little something about cherishing Dazai on days he needs it the most ~

Spoiling Dazai. Now there's something you can proudly admit to being happily guilty of. You couldn't count the times you've held him for hours after a terrible day at work, or made sure he had more than just canned crab and a few bottles of Sake. You'd do anything for him to be comfortable in his own skin, and you want to make sure he knows how much you adore him... that he knows he's allowed to take up space in the world too. You're also aware that he would rather die than to ever elaborate on the vague and dismissive little comments he makes about the debilitating weight of all of his past mistakes, the ones that make him resentful and tired when it really gets to him, but that never deters you.

You've put the pieces together long enough to understand that it's not easy being Osamu Dazai, no matter what silly mask he puts on for the world. He hasn't always been a good person, an exemplary man, and you're more than well aware of that. Still, he doesn't have to be the jester who's always entertaining the masses at his own expense.

You remind him that he isn't cursed forever, that he IS worthy of flesh and blood, and when you kiss him it's like you're absolving him of all sins... you make him new again. He is utterly bewitched by you and you feel it in the way he comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder, squeezing your waist just enough to let you know your warmth is the reason his own blood circulates. Or when he whispers the most silliest and unhinged things in your ear late at night so you'll curl up those precious lips into a smile... Just for him. He gets off on the happiness he gives you, simple as that. He already feels he doesn't deserve to hold on to such a good life, but he's nothing if not defiant, and he'll squeeze out every little bit of love within that void of a heart for as long as you'll have him.

But... Today is your turn to love him so much it actually hurts, It's what he gets for being a menace 24/7! That is why you chose to make sure he has an extra special day today, by bringing him out of his comfort zone with a... mystery date!

"Oh? And to what do I owe the pleasure of being courted by such a beautiful creature such as yourself on this fine day?"

Dazai sips on his tea, eyes narrowing as they peer at you from the teacup curiously. You flash him a cheeky grin, already plotting your mission to make him so flustered he can't even look at you later.

"I thought we could go out somewhere and spend some time outside... Since we've both been so busy lately. Wouldn't that be nice?"

He raises a brow, and gives you a knowing smile back. Dazai's freakishly omnipotent in that way, and it's one of the many reasons you can never truly know if your surprises land or not.

"Mmm, it could be. Where to, my love?"

"... It's a secret."

He then pretends something has hit his chest, and he grips it, dramatically throwing himself back onto the chair causing his tea to flop about in the teacup.

"Oh my, is today the day you finally take me out and end it all?! I don't know if I can take the deceit, the absolute betrayal... What an occasion-"

You cut him off with your index finger as you place it right on his lips, zipped tight and his eyes burn into you, waiting for your next words. He eats this shit up.

"Shush! Let's go."

And with that, you grab your coats and zoom out and into the day. It's one of those days where It's cloudy, but the sun still peaks out just enough to send down warm rays of light. As you walk hand in hand, you see the way those very rays hit Dazai's side profile in the most devastating way.

You want to take a photo but you don't want to ruin the moment, so you quickly tip toe and peck him on the cheek, causing him to abruptly stop in his tracks. He blinks for a few seconds, still facing forward, and you swear you can see the highs of his cheeks turn red. You end up tugging him to follow you to the park, smiling to yourself in triumph as he recovers.

You walk to a quiet part, and plop yourselves down next to each other on the soft grass. Still holding hands, you rub your thumb in circles over his bandaged fingers, silently looking up at the cloudy sky. Finally, Dazai is the one to break the silence.

"Love used to always be an empty four letter word to me, but you..."

He pauses for a moment, swallowing hard as he tries to feign composure.

"... You are, by far, my greatest love, and my most beloved weakness altogether."

You were supposed to be the one to sweep him off his feet today, now your vision is blurry and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. You slowly sit up, and look down at him, noticing that his eyes are closed. He looks like a sleeping beauty. Your chest aches, and you wonder if this is the same type of ache he lives with on the daily. You murmur, studying the way his messy bangs frame his face, and his expression unreadable.

"That's not fair, Osamu..."

"You sound so pretty when you say it like that... Osamu."

You swallow hard, and curse him in your mind for being the man that he is. For being all you've ever yearned for. You look down at your watch, and check the time, heart beating wildly.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

"... It's fifteen till 5."

"Mm, why does that matter?" Dazai purrs as he squeezes your hand, eyes still closed.

"It always matters. Any time with you matters. You matter, Osamu."

You spend the rest of the evening nuzzled into one another, whispering secrets and trying to name constellations and giggling when you can't figure them out. He lets you kiss him silly, his eyes closed the entire time while you also toy with his hair and the nape of his neck; where you smooth over the soft fabric of his bandages and his skin, giving him goosebumps. Your touch is a sensory heaven. He's dreaming of you while awake. You'll always wake him up from the nightmares, from what cannot be undone.

When it gets too cold to stay out, you head back home and cook him whatever he asks for as he rests his chin on his palm, gazing at you with those unreadable dark eyes... always thinking too much. Always somewhere else. This time, however, you could tell he was present. He would eat sewage if you poured it for him with that loving manner of yours. You finally crawl into bed together, and Dazai cradles your face in between his hands, facing you. He mumbles, so soft.. so tender. It's a tone only you get to hear.

"It really is selfish of me to think I can have this and more."

"Desire isn't bad, Osamu."

"Mm, no, I suppose not. But it's not always wise to have desire, not for someone like me. I can't afford that."

You hear the genuine ache in his voice, and you lean in to kiss his forehead, a gentle kiss that stays planted for a few seconds before you pull back.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing, love?~" He whispers, his voice a little strained as he looks at you with those eyes, those beautiful and endless orbs of cosmic proportions that are going to consume you one day. Hopefully.

"I think so. I'm being selfish."

You smile faintly, and you proceed to make sure that you end the night the way he deserves, the way you wanted to spoil him.

[6xillaa]

If requests is still up then - Can you please do a kenji sato x best friend/ extrovert x introvert relationship. Where kenji likes showing off , reader is reserved. And like a balanced relation?!🙏

Kenji x !introverted bestfriend reader

my requests are open dw! actually this is my first ever ask, so idrk how i'll do- but i think i got what u wanted correctly? (pls tell me if im wrong) also, as usual i dont proof read so mind my mistakes! (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

cw: ken sato x gender neutral reader, relatively sfw, introverted reader, (pre-relationship) best friend reader, reader is a pessimist, ken is aggresively kind (kinda)

-bestfriend! kenji who aggresively shakes you while holding your arm. "y/n!" kenji yells excitedly, this made you drop your book, bending its pages. "oh my- what do you want ji?" you grumbled, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. "you~" he flirted while smirking.

-bestfriend! kenji who gets a flick in the middle of his forehead. "you made me drop my book." who'd rub the spot with a pout playing on his lips. "that hurttt" he whined. "and what do you want me to do about it?" youd query, picking up your book tryying to find the page. "a kiss to make the pain go away?"hed smile.

-bestfriend! kenji who's smile would grow wider once he felt your soft lift press against his head briefly. "thank you!" hed drag out before swinging an arm pver your shoulder to bring you closer. you know, regular friend things.

-bestfriend! kenji who always forces you out of your comfort zone by dragging you to events such as concerts, parades, festivals and most recently the movies. the movies where hed buy everything for you both, eat an absurd amount of snacks you both knew would make his tummy hurt and yet he still did. putting on a mask to not draw any unwanted attention to you both. forcing you to watch horror movies with him that had an excessive amount of blood and nightmare fuel, making you cling onto his arm whenever itd make you jump. not that he minded. of course he wouldnt mind, he never did when it was you.

-bestfriend! kenji who'd rent out the entire theater if you really didnt want to interact with anyone. youd always try to discourag him from doing so, saying he shouldnt spend a lot of money on you, but he always says its fine. he loves to show off his wealth to you, and he also loves to spoil you. buyinng you gifts and practically anything you wanted. just say the word and youll have it. perks of having rich baseball players as a (sadly) best friend.

-bestfriend! kenji who'd drag you into various fancy stores that someone of your working class would have no idea about just so you could rate the things hed grab. "does this shirt look good on me?" hed ask, as if he could look bad in anything. and youd nod, a slight warmness in your cheeks when youd watch him change in and out of each shirt. trying your best to not stare.

-bestfriend! kenji who'd lay his head on yours or on your shoulder after a tiring game. only wanting to sleep. and you didnt mind, just ruffling his hair and enjoying the company of your friend. all while ignoring the little voices in your friend that were desperately trying to change the word friend into something else.

-bestfriend! kenji who promises to always be by your side in larger crowds. tuggling you close enough so that you felt the warmth generating off of his body. you especially liked this warmth during the winter, he was like your own personal fireplce wrapped in a ball of cuteness and a ribbon of sarcasm.

-bestfriend! kenji who you may or may not have feelings for. the same kenji who just asked you out on a date.

(i hope i didnt dissapoint, ty again for submitting an ask, i hope i did u justice!)

[iwantkirkhammett]

Okay, was thinkinn and finally my brain went poof again;

Kirky with a non social gf or whatever and so when she finally agrees to go out with him and meet his freinds she gets a little nervous or her social battery gets loww

So once they get home he rewards her somehow, cuddles or treats or sm 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂..?🤭🤭🤭 i dont mind either way I just thought that this might be cute <3

Ty pooks Muah😘😍

IM SORRY IF THIS SEEMS RUSHED OR ANYTHING IM SICK RN 💔

tw: smut, p in v sex, fingering, fluff! :)

𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟔

I stood in front of Kirk, my arms crossed and my irritation evident on my face. He looked at me, almost like a puppy begging for something, puckering his lip. “Please babe…I promise it’ll be fun! They all wanna meet you…” He said with a frown. I sighed, looking at him anxiously. “Kirk you know I don’t like socializing or meeting new-“ and he cut me off, grabbing my cheeks and kissing my forehead. “I know sweetheart, but it’s my band! You’ve seen our shows and everything, I promise you’ll like them. Pretty please?” He asked, and I uncrossed my arms, eventually nodding. “Okay…fine….” I mumbled. “But I don’t wanna be out late and I don’t wanna go somewhere that is loud and obnoxious.” I said, and he chuckled pulling me into a soft hug. “Trust me baby, I already know, don’t gotta tell me your routine.”

Eventually, after a few hours of getting ready, we went to their studio as they had planned to record some new music for an album they were working on. I was beyond nervous, tapping my leg and fiddling with my jewelry. We stood outside for a moment, and Kirk caressed my cheek with one hand. “You’ll do good baby, I know it. They’re gonna love you and you’re gonna love them. You’ll be fine, trust me.” He said, placing a kiss on my forehead and kissing my lips gently. I nodded in response, smiling as he did his best to reassure me. “I hope so…”

Once in and after introducing myself to everyone, I felt much more relaxed and more comfortable now. I was sat on one of the couches in the studio, sitting next to Kirk as they all took a break from hours of recording.

I honestly had zoned out in the middle of their conversing, but James speaking to me cut me out of them. “So, how did you and Kirk meet?” He asked with a smile, and I appreciated him trying to include me. “Oh um….we met at a bar a while back and he asked for my number and…yeah…” I replied awkwardly, getting a bit flustered to which Kirk ended up caressing my thigh a bit to comfort me.

Once I had replied to James, the rest of the band started to talk to me more and I actually found that I was enjoying myself. I was more relaxed and even laughing at jokes every now and then, but I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t starting to get a bit burnt out and drained, and I started to get more quiet as the hours went on. Kirk eventually noticed that my social battery was basically dead, and he patted my thigh with a soft smile before getting up. “Shit, it’s getting late guys, we should just leave it here.” He said, and the band nodded in agreement before they packed up all their equipment.

We said our goodbyes and finally left to go back home, and Kirk smiled at me. “I told you you’d have fun and be okay, didn’t I?”

I rolled my eyes playfully as we pulled up to the house. “Okay…fine you win…” I said while blushing a bit and we got out of the car, to which Kirk came up behind me to hold my hand. “I’m just teasing you, you did really good sweetheart.” He placed a gentle kiss on my cheek.

We got into the house, and I collapsed onto the bed, sighing in relief. I was drained from all of the socializing and fun, but also sitting in a separate room while they recorded for 4 hours on end wasn’t the best either. Kirk followed in shortly after me, a soft smile appearing on his face as kissed my forehead, pushing my hair out of my face. “You did really good baby, I’m so proud of you.” He said, getting undressed into his normal t-shirt and boxers combo he always wore to bed, while I changed into my pajamas myself. We both got into the bed, and he cuddled up behind me, holding me close. “Say sweetheart, you did so good for me…” He caressed my hip. “How about I give you a reward?” He said, pushing my hair away from my neck and kissing my cheek.

My cheeks ran hot and desire crept up my thighs, and I gasped as he started to gently kiss at my neck, running his hand up and down my back before running it up my shirt. I let out a soft moan, his kisses and love bites so gentle and sweet, his touch also so relaxing and comforting. He then reached up my shirt, gently starting to caress and grope one of my breasts, leading to me pushing up against his hard on and whimpering softly.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I got you, just relax and let me take care of you.” He said suggestively, unhooking my panties from my thighs and off my ankle, reaching over my body. I spread my legs for him, already so desperate for his touch and I looked up at him. “Kirk…please….” I whispered, and he gently kissed my lips before running his fingers through my folds, toying with my clit gently. He chuckled against my lips, sucking and placing hickeys onto my neck as well. “You’re so wet sweet girl, you like when I take care of you?” He asked, plunging a few fingers inside of me and curling them to reach that spot. I gasped in pleasure as he started to work his fingers, leaving me writhing and squirming in the bed with pleasure. “K-Kirk…” I moaned out, softly and in ecstasy from just his fingers. He smirked, kissing my temple. “You’re so pretty…so beautiful, especially like this.” He said, pulling his fingers out and moving me onto my side, beginning to pull his boxers down.

I whined at the emptiness I felt, but he gently rubbed his tip through my folds, hitting my clit to which I let out a moan and jolted in pleasure. “You want my dick baby?” He asked, his voice low and lustful. I nodded quickly. “Please Kirk, please!” I begged out, and he slowly pushed himself in, throwing his head back and letting out a low moan in pleasure. I moaned, gripping onto the sheets as Kirk reached around to grab onto one of my breasts. He started at a gentle steady pace, our soft gasps and moans of pleasure filling the room. “You’re so pretty-ah…So perfect, you’re doing so good baby, taking it so good.” He groaned out, picking up his pace and hitting that one spot that made me melt. I just moaned in response, so focused on the pleasure I felt I couldn’t even get anything out but his name. “Kirk f-faster! Please!” I moaned, and he picked up the pace and reached over to gently rub my clit, sending me right over the edge and driving me crazy. I moaned loudly, gripping onto the sheets while Kirk lifted my leg up and hooked it around his arm. “K-Kirk! Fuck! Yes!” I moaned, tightening and clenching around him.

He continued his relentless pace, sucking and kissing on my neck, fondling with my breast, rubbing my clit, and groaning in pleasure. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight baby, so good, you’re gonna-fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane you know that? So fucking good…” He groaned into my neck, and he pounded that one spot continuously, tears welling up in my eyes from the pleasure. I started to get that feeling I knew all to well, and I grabbed onto the sheets and whimpered out a high pitched moan. “Kirk…o-oh my god! I-I’m so close Kirk please!” I moaned, and he smirked against my neck, pounding faster while his own thrusts got sloppy. “I know baby, cum on my dick, you d-deserve it, I got you.” He grunted out, pounding even faster. I squealed out, releasing all over his cock while my pussy pulsated and tightened around him.

Kirk groaned and squeezed my breast. “J-Just a few more seconds baby, you can take it come on..” The overstimulation was to much, and I was a moaning pleasure filled mess, so fucked out I couldn’t even form sentences anymore. Kirk then thrust few more sloppy times, groaning and gripping onto me as he filled me up with his cum, whispering out sweet little nothings as he did. “So…s-so good baby…so good, you’re so perfect…” He panted, pulling out and spreading my legs a bit to admire his seed dripping out of me.

We both laid there for a few seconds, catching our breath before Kirk turned me around, pulling him close to his chest. I immediately snuggled up, smiling and letting out a content satisfied sigh. He pulled the blanket up over us, kissing my forehead. “Thank you for finally coming to meet the band…” He mumbled tiredly, and I looked up to meet his tired eyes with my own. “I had fun, it was worth it.” I giggled, snuggling up to him again and closing my eyes. “I love you Kirk…” I mumbled, and he chuckled, closing his own eyes. “I love you too sweetheart…” And we both ended up falling asleep in each other’s embrace.

[sugar-coat-it]

HI <3 congrats on 500!!!!!!

Teenage dream (my beloved)

NSFW: A & B

SFW: S (dying to know)

Pls just pick & choose whichever too lol. Love ur work sm

THANK YOUUUU <3 <3 im going to do all three 🤭

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s sooo attentive and sweet after sex. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing at first, but he’s trying! It’s never just going to sleep, they’re usually up and talking for a while afterward and raiding the kitchen for a late-night snack. Unless they’ve really been going at it and totally tired each other out, which does happen sometimes. But he’s got the cuddling part down, he’s so happy to hold her for as long as she wants and tell her how amazing she is and how he can’t wait to do it again. He gets a bit emotional after sex sometimes so he needs the closeness as much as she does. I think he’d be so giddy over the opportunity to take a shower with her after sex because it feels so grown up to him

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On him, I think his favorite body part would be his hands. He thinks the fact that he has callouses from his guitar strings is “wicked”, so he’s proud of them. He has fairly long fingers too, which he prides himself on for… other reasons (he really likes fingering her slowly so he can fully feel how deep he’s going inside of her)

His favorite body part on girlie is her tits. Basic, but he’s obsessed with them. Even when they’re just cuddling he wants to slip his hand up her shirt and feel them a little. We already talked about how he uses them to warm his hands too. He doesn’t just like them because they’re fun to touch though, he loves giving them attention when they’re getting intimate. If her bra is off, his mouth is usually on her tits within seconds, he loves sucking on them, especially while she’s playing with his hair.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s definitely not overprotective! He actually loves to see girlie go outside of her comfort zone, especially because he’s usually the one pestering her to do something crazy with him. He doesn’t want to limit her, but he’ll be straight up if he thinks she’s making a bad decision. He better not hear anyone talking bad about her at school, that’s when he’s at his most protective, and he will show it. ESPECIALLY when it’s shit talk from other guys.

He doesn’t want to admit that he ever needs to be protected, but he secretly appreciates it when she keeps him from doing something too stupid or getting himself in trouble. Despite his grumbling, he knows she’s right, like when she stopped him from attempting a rail slide on his skateboard while drunk.

[solbaby7]

hi sol xx i’m here to request a fic <3 ur my absolute favorite acotar writer and i’d love to see this from you! however if anything is triggering or you are not comfortable writing, please ignore this! :)

i was thinking a cassian x reader, where reader overhears cassian, azriel, and rhys talking about their sex-lives and reader is more on the timid side, new to sexual intimacy, and cassian is obviously not! the pair are mates and cassian absolutely adores how naive and inexperienced she is because he gets to teach her and they get to learn what they like together.

but reader only overheard when cass says she’s “vanilla” and then the teasing jokes from az and rhys, she doesn’t hear where he admits to liking the slow pace and build up the two of you have. and naturally and understandably, reader gets very insecure and distances herself a bit before trying something that’s out of her comfort zone. and has to use the safe word.

it doesn’t have to be anything hardcore !! maybe cass just over stimulates her or the sex isn’t as tender as she’s used to and it just freaks her out. and cassian dotes and comforts her, and asks her what’s wrong and for a whole spill of tears and hurt comfort.

again, pls don’t feel obligated, and if you do decide to write it, i appreciate you so much and know im going to absolutely adore it! much love! xx

are you kidding??? 😩 i could actually kiss you. this sounds so cute and i really needed something to drag me out my Az cave. not to mention some fluff is much needed after the angst i’ve been spamming you all with.

anywhore, i’ve already written out most of it (bc when i saw the request last night i physically couldn’t fucking stop myself from immediately drafting something up) and I’m doing the revisions today during work. let’s say it’ll be up by late tonight or super early tmr morning??

i appreciate your sweet words & the request sm 🤍 can’t wait to see what u think

update: Angels Like You

[xdeariex]

Mess to clean

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

this is the first thing i’ve written in almost a year. i had the actual worse case of writers block and hopefully this pulls me out.

my first time writing for ellie and i wrote this in like 20 minutes 😔😔

| mention of smoking, very sweet, no use of y/n, no gender specified |

—-

The sun was setting, the last of its glare was hitting me right in the eyes. A slight pain went through my arm when my brain acknowledged just how long I had been trying to get the clumps out of the cheap cake batter I was mixing. I sighed, zoning out and yet, continuing my tireless work. I almost let out a giggle at how dramatic I was being, maybe it was the self conscious need to distract myself from how bored I was. Just then, my gaze shifted, eyes panning over the doorknob that jiggled before it creaked open and revealed my girlfriend. 

“Hi!” I called out. “I lost track of time, didn’t expect you yet.” 

“Life’s full of surprises.” she joked sarcastically, closing the door behind her as she shed from her outside attire. she threw her jacket down, her keys, her bag. kicked off her shoes and rubbed the kink out of her shoulder that had been bothering her since this morning. “What’s this?” she gestured to my bowl, coming behind me and kissing my cheek. I leaned into her, missing her. 

“I'm thinking of either cake or cupcakes. Probably cupcakes, they’ll be easier to put away… if you don’t eat them all.” I teased. 

Ellie put her hand over her chest, a silent gasp leaving her mouth. “I'd never.” 

I hummed, knowing that either of us didn’t believe the words she uttered. “yeah you’re right.” I agreed for a moment. “I'd have to worry about the survival of brownies.” 

“I'm a slut for brownies.” she lowered her voice seductively and maybe it would’ve got me worked up if we weren’t talking about the food she scarfed down. 

“I know.” I continued mixing, finally almost done. “how was work?” 

“Exhausting. My body hurts.” she whined. 

“Poor baby. Go take a bath, relax a little.” 

“I was thinking I would roll up. maybe we could smoke together… shower together after?” she came up behind me again, hands running across my waist, over my abdomen, practically anywhere she could touch. It was quite the convincing tactic. she hid her face into my neck, peppering kisses and if i wasn’t won over already, i was now. 

“sure, sounds good.'' I sighed, leaning into her comfort. Both of us worked, we had jobs that neither of us enjoyed. But we enjoyed this. Helping each other, providing for one another. Loving each other, Everything was calm and steady and though we both knew that anyday something could go bad, we always ended up here - back into each other's arms. Ellie gave me a comfort in life that I once thought I'd never have. Ellie made me feel safe. “when im done with this.” 

Ellie groaned. “How long is this gonna take?” 

“Not long, I just have to bake them and decorate… I think doing that while i’m high will fuck them up." I pondered my options. 

“Did you get sprinkles?”

“Yup. rainbow.” 

“Oh fuck yeah! Maybe I will eat them all.” 

“No-” before I could even speak, let alone react, Ellie scooped up the batter, smudging it on my face and licking it up just as quickly 

“Gross!” I groaned, bringing my forearm up to wipe the wetness of my face. “and unnecessary” I giggled. “You could have licked it off of yourself.” 

‘Where's the fun in that?” she kisses the same area of my face she had just licked. 

“Ew, Ellie, c’mon I don't want a mess.” I scolded, although she knew I didn't mind it. If anything, I had been waiting for her company all day. 

“No mess here baby.” 

[soukoku-stans-assemble]

Hallo! It's me again. I decend upon thee with requests for soukoku ficlet, if that be in thy power. Maybe something with Dazai struggling with body issues with both gender struggles (relatable) and humanity and Chuuya helping him through it? Idk, this has just been on my mind for a while. Im a big fan of transzai (and trans Chuuya but that doesn't have to be included if you want to). I love to imagine them helping each other through their struggles with humanity and gender together. Anyway, basically just Dazai having some issues with his appearance and gender and Chuuya helping him. You can do whatever you want with that lol

Thanks for the request! Hope you like it!

'Mackerel!'

...

'Bandage waster!'

....

'Shitty dazai!'

BANG

There goes the door to the shipping container.

'What do you want, slug?'

Dazai asks. It's weaker than normal and he knows it. He doesn't move from where he lies under the thin blanket, even though the cold wind blowing through makes him feel like curling further in on himself. He zones out for a few seconds, shivering, forgetting chuuya is there until...

'Mackerel...?'

His voice is soft, softer than it's been in a long time. It's almost soft enough to tip dazai over the edge into crying.

Almost.

'What's up, 'Samu?'

Dazai freezes.

The soft nickname worms its way into his head and he sniffles before he can help it.

Well. If chuuya is willing to be nice, dazai supposes there is no reason not to let him in on his plight. After all, he's seen chuuya in a similar state, for exactly the same reason.

'Gender sucks.'

Chuuya lets out a little 'oooh' noise, and then comes to sit on the bed.

'Sorry, 'samu. That sucks. Dyou wanna come around to mine and play Mario cart?'

'Mori banned me from wearing binders. I'm not leaving.'

Chuuya, who hasn't had to worry about binders since he had top surgery a year ago (lucky bastard), shudders sympathetically in memory of what that felt like.

'What if I wrap you up in a blanket and carry you out? I can call hirotsu, you know he wouldn't talk.'

Dazai considers it. Chuuya hasn't mentioned it, but dazai knows he has tape at his apartment, for when things like this happen. Chuuya also has very baggy hoodies, because despite dazai being taller, chuuya works out a lot more, so he's got a lot more muscle. Dazai would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate it.

While he is considering it, he realises chuuya offered to carry him.

Chuuya carrying dazai is an amazing experience. His arms are strong, and dazai can feel the muscle around him. He gets to cling to chuuyas neck, claiming he doesn't trust him, and his poor touch starved body gets cuddles without actually having to cuddle.

So obviously, dazai is going to say yes.

Chuuya scoops him up in a blanket, as promised, and lifts him into his arms so dazai can shriek and wrap his arms around chuuyas neck, as promised. Dazai is fairly sure chuuya knows about dazais thing for being carried, since he offers to carry him a lot. He's not complaining though.

Chuuya calls hirotsu, and bundles dazai into the back seat of the black car when he gets there. He strokes dazais hair and whispers little things to him, little gender affirmations, reminding him of his masculinity, but also of his androgynous nature, as dazai doesn't ever like to feel too masculine.

Chuuya needs to stop being so nice, or dazai might actually fall in love with him.

They get to chuuyas apartment and chuuya carries dazai inside so he can gently set him down on the couch. Then chuuya rushes off to find dazais favourite hoodie, a massive one that chuuya bought almost a year ago, when he was still healing from top surgery and feeling a tad insecure. It's blue, with little red flowers around the cuffs that dazai painted on. It's just the right mix of masculine and feminine that dazai finds comfort in it, and it's baggy enough to hide his (admittedly meagre) cleavage.

Chuuya gently unwraps dazai from the blanket and eases the hoodie on him, taking care not to touch areas that could spark further dysphoria. When he goes to ask whether dazai wants anything to eat, though, dazai lets out a little snuffly snore, and chuuya realises he's fallen asleep. He chuckles and pulls the blanket back over dazai, then kisses him on the forehead gently.

'Night, 'Samu. Hope you feel better when you wake up.'

[xx-narcissa]

just finished ‘kevin can f**k himself’

well i finished it a few days ago but i had to really let it marinate in my head.

overall, 7/10. i would recommend it if you like drama series or whatever. honestly idk what to compare it to because i think the show is very unique in the directing style but if anybody knows a show or movie similar to it then please let me know and hopefully i’ll be able to check it out.

more detailed review + spoilers below

okay so first impressions i really did not expect the rest of the show to go the way that it did but it was very interesting, although i will say the ending seemed rushed but im assuming that was due to the network and not necessarily the shows team.

i had a love hate relationship with allison. and by that i mean every time i started to like her she did something to make me hate her again😭 definitely i tried to be sympathetic of her situation and how it may make her act but she was still annoying at times and definitely if it weren’t for patty she would have gotten herself into a lot of trouble.

also i want to make sure i mention the directing style (if that’s what it’s called). the transitions from sitcom to drama were so great and honestly chilling. and it’s so fitting for how real life is. obviously not exactly but we all know at least one person where it’s like whenever they’re around they become the main character of some strange sitcom that’s all about them and the problems they make and how everyone else has to clean up behind them and their mistakes. if you don’t know anybody like this then i envy you because these people are draining 😭

but back to the actual contents of the show, patty definitely was my favorite character even from the very beginning. i also began to like neil in the latter half of the second season, where he finally began to realize kevin is not a true friend and wouldn’t care if he lives or dies. i think if the writers/producers had even just a little more time then they could have fleshed out that plot line even more, especially throwing peter into it as well and showing how everyone was slowly distancing themselves from kevin rather than just walking out and ghosting him, as we saw through allison’s struggles it’s not that easy whether you are a spouse, family, friend, partner, whatever.

i liked tammy and i liked her relationship with patty, trust i’ll almost always like a wlw relationship (as long as it’s not immoral in any way). however she was the same as allison in my eyes, where i have that love hate relationship with her. i appreciated that she cared for patty and made patty feel heard but i felt like tammy overstepped her boundaries way too often, just showing up and trying to push patty out of her comfort zone all the time. it’s healthy to encourage people to face their fears and whatnot but i think she just came off as pushy or possessive at times, especially when it came to allison. i understand she viewed allison as a bad influence but i don’t get why she felt so entitled to ‘protect’ patty. patty is a grown woman who has known allison for 15 years, so it was just crazy to me that tammy felt like she could come in and tell allison to stay away from patty as if she would understand their dynamic at all. and yes ik that patty and allison weren’t friends those 15 years but im still just trying to make the point that tammy was the outsider (and a fucking cop so did she really expect patty and allison to tell her every single thing all the time) so she really had no place acting that way in my opinion. she was also very rude with the whole “i don’t like you you’re not my friend” attitude. like no need to lie and sugarcoat it but you can at least fake it till you make it.

anyways enough about that i just felt a bit strongly about that point, mainly bc wlw representation is so hard to come by so i just get a bit upset when it doesn’t work well.

honestly idk why but i expected patty and allison to get together. i’m glad they didn’t though, i think they work better as friends. but also i couldn’t really understand allison’s motives at times. sometimes it felt like she was being purely selfish and treating everything like a transaction (not just with patty but with sam, diane, neil, and even kevin at times) but other times it seemed like she genuinely cared and wanted to help (mostly with patty but a little with diane and sam too). it was easy to tell that patty was genuine with allison and actually cared for her but i just could never tell if it was reciprocated so if anybody wants to give their two cents on that i’m all ears.

i wont even get into sam because i’ll get mad. all i’ll really say is i did not like his dynamic with allison at all. this is again where i could never tell if she was just selfish or actually cared about him (but with him im leaning more towards just being selfish). especially when he brought up that everything that they do it’s because she wants to. so yknow it’s whatever but i didn’t like it and this relationship contributed a lot to my dislike of allison as a main character.

i wont really get into pete or kevin either. pete is pretty one dimensional the whole time (in my opinion). and kevin was very one dimensional until we are able to see more into his destructive and manipulative side in season two, but even then there’s not much to work with until the very end (but like i said the ending needed more work so im trying not to touch on the subject too much).

i liked diane. i was confused at first bc i didn’t know that she was allison’s aunt so their relationship confused me. in the second season i definitely felt for her. the whole thing with neil caught me off guard but i guess they were both hurting or whatever. she was a fine character, not too remarkable but i didn’t hate her.

so overall, my main criticism would be the characters need work. not that they are ‘bad’ or poorly written or anything, i just don’t see any of them as necessarily relatable or likable except for patty (but that’s my opinion and you may have a different one!). and ofc i know that not every story needs to have relatable and likable characters but i think that it helps you hook and maintain an audience.

but i think that that issue definitely is squashed by the great story and direction. idk the circumstances of the show, if it was always meant to be two seasons or if they got cut short idk. if they made a third season i honestly don’t know what else they could have had happen so while i think the ending could have been fleshed out more, i don’t think there was a need for another 8 episodes. THAT BEING SAID, i did love what we were given. as mentioned earlier i loved the contrast between sitcom and drama where not only did the show change cinematically but also the characters in the scene changed the way they acted depending on if kevin was present and i think that that was super interesting and a very unique concept that i personally have never seen before. the plot line could use a couple tweaks here and there but i am no show runner or script writer so please take that sentiment with a grain of salt.

okay, this review is long enough. bye now drink water be safe and ladies carry pepper spray and maybe learn a self defense move or two 🫡

[becauseplot]

Still feel is one of my fav fics ever and it made me so happy to see more stuff from this AU! Your post-osnf headcannons are sooo good!! Actually im a big fan of your ordem headcannons in general tbh

If you dont mind sharing more on it...Can you maybe tell us a bit more about your ideas for the effects the symbol left on Thiago? Like, is he still connected to it or to Santo Berço somehow?? I find this consequences stuff really interesting and id be cool to hear more about it

Aw thanks!! I'm glad someone's getting some enjoyment out of my rambles <33

I can go a bit deeper, of course! Warning for the fact that this does get pretty sad and heavy, sorry :(

So Santo Berço really is gone. Equipe E destroyed it. The effects that Thiago is now dealing with are essentially mental scarring: a mix of normal human PTSD with a paranormal "flare" to it. The Symbol has seared itself not just onto his back but onto his mind as well. His dreams of the Symbol are due to trauma and the fact that, just as he suspects, he was never meant to escape it. It is stuck with him now. Anything touched by Death cannot go back to the way it was before, after all.

I kind of like to think about his mental state in terms of Ordem's "sanity" system as well. He recovers plenty of "sanity" while in injury recovery, since he's given time to rest, away from stressors. Eventually, he starts to do work for the Order again, but he quickly learns that he can't handle stressful, paranormal events like he could before (systems-wise, he has a permanent de-buff/disadvantage in the sanity checks) and missions---even the short one he starts out with---just put too much strain on his body. So, he winds up becoming part of the Order's cover-up team, helping fudge official reports and write up those "logical explanations" that Veríssimo sometimes references.

It's a role that's...much easier on him, after everything he went through. He does notice a pattern between his stress and the frequency of the Symbol dreams, so it's much better this way. He will, on rare occasions, help his friends out in the field with intel gathering (perhaps encountering a Horror on the way, which is never fun), and with he gets to serve as a sounding board for Liz's investigations, both her personal ones and the ones she does with the Order.

There are...other effects of the symbol. That he doesn't like to talk about. He's taken a sickly comfort in swirling designs, ever since he woke up in that hospital; back when he dealt with the nightmares on his own, before Liz and the others knew about them, he used to go to bed with reminders to himself ("Your name is Thiago Fritz, you live in São Paulo with Liz, she's in the bedroom upstairs...") written on his arm surrounded by swirls in the hopes they might calm him down enough to think and read it. He ponders his father's pocket watch more than he should, taking solace in the even, steady tick of time moving at the right pace as much as he does watching the second hand go around and around. He finds himself tracing circle after circle after circle with his finger when he's lost in thought or anxious about something...

He finds himself taking comfort in it. The Symbol. The thought makes him feel ill.

Over the months between osnf and opd, his mind slowly starts to deteriorate. Anything touched by Death cannot go back to the way it was before, after all. The frequency of the dreams has always been correlated with his stress and thus fluctuates, but on average they start to get more frequent, and the more intense ones happen more often, and it slowly gets worse, and worse, and worse until---

---he "zones out" one day, thinking of the Symbol. Thirty seconds, nothing much, it must just be on his mind. Then, he starts to fully disconnect from his surroundings, in his own head, pondering the Symbol for a minute or two. The white void starts to creep into his vision sometimes, reality losing meaning and definition, for several minutes at a time. Minutes turn to an hour, two hours, more, if no one is around to pull him out of it.

Thiago, as much as he hates to admit it to himself, is very, very tired. His mind and body are worn out, abused, overused. The thought that he's been living on borrowed time ever since Santo Berço comes more often than he'd like. At the worst of times, he feels like he's orbiting and closing in on some final, finite point. But he'll never tell his friends this because he knows it'll scare them because fuck, it scares him too. (Though, the times where it doesn't scare him are...even worse.)

[valeriianz]

Sneaking in again to ask about fake proposals 👀

hello again 👀 (this was also asked by @bruce-wayne-simp) this is another prompt sitting in my askbox... i wonder if the mutual who asked for it even remembers at this point lol 😅 anyway!

the gist is Dream and Hob, bffs, get into shenanigans that involve proposing to one another at restaurants in order to get free stuff (this move does actually work, and the nicer the establishment, the more likely the house will gift you congratulatory wine or cake!) but for some reason, one of them thinks its a good idea to propose for real at some point lol. the prompt is meant to be silly, but i cant figure out how to make it work...

Something Dream loves about Hob is, he helps him live. He pulls the most smiles out of him, challenges his comfort zone, but also knows when to back off�� where Dream’s boundaries lie. He is Dream’s truest, closest friend for a reason. Every moment spent with Hob feels like an adventure but also a reprieve… It is perhaps, with this revelation, that Dream finds himself wanting to spend more and more time with Hob in more ways than just friendly outings and tomfoolery.  As time goes by Dream fantasizes about… intimacy, with his friend. How it might feel to take his hand during walks, what Hob’s skin might feel like against his lips, or how he might tip the melodic sound of Hob’s laugh into something more low and drawn out in pleasure.

i feel like im taking it too seriously and just need to brush everything off the table and make it pure crack haha

for the WIP ask game which has been completely filled! c:

[new-berry]

Berryyyyy pls send me a wip to get stuck into Im scared there’s no writing left in my soul

What tickles you?

They are more “openings” than WIP I guess.

I think this was going to be Iris Law /Trent /Jude before that morphed. This would be ANY threesome. This would be Mickey so long last name and Cuti and Son. Or two kids trying to seduce some other kid (for kid I mean early twenties adults).

———

Come watch the game.’ There’s ‘with us’ implied in there. There usually is these days. There’s a beat, enough time to blink your eyes, take a breath, have a knee jerk response. And the “please” comes a second later. The well raised boy, or the reminder from someone off-screen.

Jude looks at his phone. Like if he turns it over he will see the “us”. Like a second face will be superimposed on the screen. “What game?” He sends back.

“Duh.” Is the reply. Trent isn’t texting then. There is an image of a dark skinned chest, it’s not a selfie, taken from too far away, Trent posed in an angle of sunshine, his face isn’t in the picture. That doesn’t stop Jude’s instant identification.

“Game of life?” Is written under it. A close up of the waist band of England issue sweat pants, Trent’s cock pushing up against them. “Spin the bottle.”

“Ok” Jude sends back before he can talk himself out of it.

It’s embrassing being so helpless around him. Around them both.

———

This is my Bruno and Sven but cut and paste those names to whatever works.

“This was a bad idea.” Bruno says. Which is nothing new, but he’s wrong. It’s was a good idea, it’s always been a good idea.

“We can’t do this again.” Bruno always sounds so very very sure when he says things like that. Once he’s come over Sven or inside him. Once the alcohol has worn off, or the winner’s triumph has burned away

But then he’s always sounded very sure when he’s talking his way into Sven’s bed as well.

Sven doesn’t flinch when Bruno makes his announcement. He doesn’t flinch when Bruno turns away from his hand. It’s not like he didn’t know exactly how this was going to end when he agreed. Again.

Sven is an expert at not reacting. No twitching or flinching or begging. Not that Bruno would see in the dark they always do this in. He’s gone by the time that Sven gets out of the shower.

( And then I wrote a bit for the next part …)

“Yeah actually no.” Bruno goes instantly still. “What?” Sven can’t see him. And he doesn’t know that tone of voice he’s using, something like talking to the media after a loss.

“This is a bad idea. You can stay if you want? There’s a spare room. Or stay in here it’s fine. Or the couch it’s comfortable. “ Sven jams his lips shut on the babble.

“I can go if you want.” Bruno says.

“No” Sven thinks. “Fuck no fuck no fuck no.”

“I only want you to stay if you stay the night.”

Bruno’s voice is, genuinely kind. Sven thinks that’s probably the worse than when he says. “I don’t want to stay the night.”

Sven thanks god for inventing night time and darkness and blackout curtains. And curses him for inventing love and Brazil.

Good thing Bruno has so much experience, getting re-dressed in the dark. After he leaves Sven stumbles to the couch and sleeps there. It doesn’t smell like Bruno’s cologne.

———-

Fabian Anthony. This was actually the first thing I wrote with Anthony but I never finished it. So any older defender younger forward.

Fabian was actually not up becuase of insomnia, although he had carefully put that myth out when he started at the club.

He was just visiting an old friend. A new old friend. A discrete new friend. From an app. Discretion something that is not even in the same time zone as Anthony right now.

Insomnia and late night walks. If you go out often enough in training clothes and come back looking like you actually went for a walk not one notices the times you come back looking like a night out. Not that a night out on the road is common for him anymore But then he is far from 21, and he’s not the one is about the show himself to be an almighty fuck up.

And Anthony doesn’t know he’s fucked up of course. Because by any metric- that isn’t Eddie Howe and the desperate desire of Geordies to win anything shiny - he hasn’t fucked up. He’s 21 and pretty fucking normal. Fabian takes in the face of the person dropping him down the road from the team hotel and getting pretty enthusiastically snogged goodbye. Well he’s normal for about ten percent of the population.

I’m sure I have pages more of that. Pages!

The rest are just porn probably.

[sorrelpaws]

Sorrel imma listen to each song and the playlist and give my take! I wanna see how close or off or just any feedback tbh! For funzies! LMAO The first song is JUST THE VIIIBE FOR THE SHOW OVERALL <33

YOU ACTUALLY WENT THROUGH EVERYTHING honestly im so giddy over this. I'LL PUT MORE SPECIFIC THOUGHTS under the readmore, BUT U WERE PRETTY SPOT ON DUDE!!!

arrival - totally for the vibe. Just sounds like them to me daydream in blue - originally this was more so about rick/diane and how rick (badly)copes with her loss. BUT HONESTLY your interpretations centering morty's disillusionment ARE ALSO REALLY NEAT and i cant believe i didnt think of that sooner hehe i think it might be hell - YUP!!! mostly rick song but also has some lines that work for morty them changes - ALSO WORKS FOR BOTH OF THEM!! but personally i think of it more as a rick song snake eyes - I'LL ADMIT THAT THIS is half here for the vibe, BUT ALSO yeah definitely morty at a breaking point toy plane - YESSS EXACTLY!!!! i've been plugging this as a morty song basically since i found it. Very much about the dynamic between him and rick. TO BE HONEST i've never even thought about the "though this house is unchanged" LINES BUT YOU'RE SO RIGHT. RICK POTION #9. found god in a tomato - YUPPP very much their vibe. also makes me think very much about rick and just The way he is. his whole "i'm better than everyone" shtick just - YESSS EXACTLY THIS IS LITERALLY JUST rick being an asshole 180db_[130] - YUP just here for the vibe B) everything hurts - YEAH YEAH YEAH just completely rick's angsty sad miserable life no need for a leader - actually this for me is very much an evil morty song. specifically s3e7's whole plot starstruck - YUP MORTY SONG!!! for all his hurt feelings and protests, morty still obviously looks up to rick A Lot, so while he may be mad about something, he'll still go along with whatever rick wants fifteen minutes - THEM BOTH YEAH. here for the vibe cadence - this one is just kind of Rick and Morty to me. i dont even know how to explain it, just has their vibe. BUT I LIKE your interpretation a lot!! about how morty is aware of rick's self loathing and trying to kind of help him in his own way i'm your dog - YEAH. this is the most morty song ever to me. he really wants to act like he doesnt need rick, but he's also disgustingly codependent so the moment rick needs him, he comes running back. in the yard - YES!!! huge morty song. kind of has rick potion #9 vibes again, BUT I REALLY like the idea that there's some pressure to never mess up around rick, and feeling like his family prefers each other over him who is she ? - YEAH kind of here for the vibes, but also a bit for rick and diane! i don't know, i just feel like after searching for her killer for a couple of decades she might morph into less of a person and more of just an idea running on a treadmill - HEHE YESSSS morty doing everything for ricks approval to the point he sacrifices his own comfrot barbarism begins at home - YES about rick and morty's weird abusive relationship. morty not being "good enough", rick being a terrible role model/adult presence and not knowing how to be Nice call this # now - JUST FOR THE VIBES!!!! money - THIS ONE to me is about rick wanting to be better for morty, but having a really hard time stepping out of his nihilistic-asshole comfort zone. he knows he sucks, he acknowledges it, and he really wants to be better kiss me, son of god - very much a rick song hehe. specifically im imagining him in the era where he's contributing to the citadel's creation, but there's a line here that also make me think a bit about his relationship with prime (i destroyed the bond of friendship and respect between the only people left who'd even look me in the eye) birdhouse in your soul - just Rick and Morty and their relationship dungen - another Just for The Vibe song, BUT YEAH works well as a "throwback to the "good" ol' days" interpretation too drunk to come - YEPPPP RICK SONG ALL THE WAY BABY nugget killer - i'll be honest i also have no idea what this song says or means But it just Feels like rick and morty to me. i can feel it in my bones glue - YUHHHH MORTY ABOUT RICK YEOP YEP YEP YEOP oulala - YEP rick and his whole attachment and substance abuse issues two weeks - YEAH. their whole relationship

[thepenguinclub]

Happily Ever After

romantic draco/harry, growing up together, birthday, birthday gifts, draco pov, they are in love, fluff (and angst but mostly fluff)

Wordcount: 7,830

Summary:

“Harry!” Draco exclaimed happily. He then made an effort to not be too happy. Malfoy’s didn’t get so happy to see scruffy Gryffindor’s who had obviously just come back from an off-season quidditch practice.

“Hi Draco,” Harry said softly, smile widening. His hair was even more out of place than usual, windswept and chaotic. His glasses were crooked, and he had a grass stain on his cheek.

He was exactly what Draco’s day needed.

“How was practice?” Draco asked politely.

“It was good.” Harry was still smiling, and still speaking in that soft way. It was really the only way he ever spoke, unless he needed to speak up for a teacher. Draco liked it. It made everything he said sound special. “How’s your day been?”

Draco sighed and leaned back against the wall.

“It’s been boring, Harry,” he despaired. “Nothing happened at all.”

Harry’s face attempted sympathy, but it was ruined by the fact that he was still smiling.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” he replied. “Your birthday should be very special.”

---

Draco Malfoy's birthdays, ages 12-18.

happy birthday fable my love. a gift for you. check them out at fabledfrog.

once again stepping out of my comfort zone for this fic but the other one (for all you bbc merlin fans go and check it out after this) was received well so fingers are crossed, im very proud of this mostly because i crammed it and wrote it in like five days.

i love you i hope you like it. unbetad because they are my beta. i think it's okay but if something is wrong let me know (politely. im insecure and handle criticism kind of well).

HEY LISTEN UP: jk rowling is a disgusting human being and i do not support her, her material, or her views. she is a terf and i fully support trans people, as well as condemn her antisemitic views. there is a multitude of issues with the book series, including her treatment of fat people, people of color, and others. this is me writing her characters as gay and in love because i know she would hate it, not showing support for her or anything to do with her. if you do support that, fuck right off.

WARNINGS: lucius is mentioned to be horrible but we don't actually see him, the whole buckbeak situation, descriptions of anxiety, descriptions of depression (sixth year is rough), crying, eating food, swearing

i think that's it but if i missed anything let me know!!

----------

June 5, 1992 - First Year

Draco’s day had been boring.

Draco’s day had been boring, and, usually, that was simply unacceptable. Draco did not do boring, because Draco was an exciting person who liked excitement. 

But this was a special day. It was Draco’s special day, his birthday, and for Draco’s birthday to be boring was beyond unacceptable, it was- it was-

It was definitely something! There was a word for how above-unnacceptable it was and Draco definitely knew it. It started with an R. Or maybe an L. 

Draco’s perfectly polished shoes made little tap-tap sounds on the Hogwarts stone as he stewed on the word that he definitely knew, various paintings and portraits calling cheerful (and/or drunken) hellos to him as he passed. This was a hallway on the fourth floor that wasn’t often used, which suited Draco perfectly, as there were often times when Draco didn’t want to be found.

Not that Draco wasn’t a social person. He was a very social person, in fact. His father had been teaching him how to work a room since he could walk a room, and his mother had always impressed upon him the importance of manners and a good social standing. So, yes, Draco was a very social person because he understood how necessary it was for one to have a place in the world.

But, sometimes, Draco got a little tired working his Slytherin common room when it was so clear that everyone else was working the room as well. Conversation was boring when everyone had eight different layers below their words, and, as Draco had already mentioned, he did not like boring things. 

Besides. The unused hallway with unused classrooms was good for other things as well.

Draco sighed aloud.

He wasn’t doing any of those things, though. What Draco wouldn’t give to duck into the old Charms classroom and add some excitement to his day. He shot the classroom a wistful look, then admonished himself.

No, it wasn’t good for him to be upset about such things. Sometimes excitement didn’t have time for him. That was perfectly fine. The fact that he even entertained the thought that it wasn’t was re- re-

Draco groaned. Still didn’t have it. 

Draco absentmindedly turned a corner, stubbornly not thinking about the word that he definitely knew in hopes it might come to him (watched pots weren’t the only things that didn’t boil if they had an audience, right?), and then let out an undignified yelp when a skinny hand shot out from behind a curtained alcove and dragged him into it.

It took him a second to regain his balance, and, when he did, he was met with a nervous-excited smile.

“Harry!” Draco exclaimed happily. He then made an effort to not be too happy. Malfoy’s didn’t get so happy to see scruffy Gryffindor’s who had obviously just come back from an off-season quidditch practice. 

“Hi Draco,” Harry said softly, smile widening. His hair was even more out of place than usual, windswept and chaotic. His glasses were crooked, and he had a grass stain on his cheek.

He was exactly what Draco’s day needed.

“How was practice?” Draco asked politely, his mother’s voice in the back of his head. Harry shrugged, which Draco’s mother would not approve of, but, then again, Draco’s mother wouldn’t approve of Harry in general.

“It was good.” Harry was still smiling, and still speaking in that soft way. It was really the only way he ever spoke, unless he needed to speak up for a teacher. Draco liked it. It made everything he said sound special. “How’s your day been?”

Draco sighed and leaned back against the wall. 

“It’s been boring, Harry,” he despaired. “Nothing happened at all.”

Harry’s face attempted sympathy, but it was ruined by the fact that he was still smiling.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” he replied. “Your birthday should be very special.”

“I know!” Draco agreed. “And nothing special happened. If I was at home, I would have eaten a cake as tall as me, and opened fifty presents! Instead I had to go to Transfiguration.”

Harry nodded, trying and failing to school his face into something serious. 

“That’s really horrible, Draco,” he said, and it occurred to Draco that Harry might be making fun of him.

“You’re laughing at me,” he whined, crossing his arms. Harry smiled again, which Draco guessed was a good thing. He liked it when Harry smiled, even if it was at Draco’s expense (although he didn’t like it too much. Malfoy’s didn’t care about whether poor Gryffindor’s smiled or not).

“Maybe a little,” Harry admitted, unashamed. At Draco’s pout, he laughed quietly, just like he talked. “Will this make up for it? I have a present for you.”

“A present?” Draco asked, perking up. He uncrossed his arms and pushed off the wall, which put him quite close to Harry, as they were still in the alcove and it wasn’t very big. This close to him, Draco could pick out the individual flecks of gold in Harry’s too-green eyes, and see the light flush that spread over the apples of his cheeks.

“Mhm,” Harry hummed and nodded, reaching into a bag that Draco hadn’t noticed was tucked in the corner. He pulled a relatively thin, small book sized, bright yellow box out and presented it to Draco, who grabbed it eagerly.

“Lemonheads?” Draco looked up from the box in surprise. Harry was still smiling, but it was all nerves, and his hands were twisting together in front of him.

“You said they were your favorite,” he said.

They were Draco’s favorite, and nobody knew that. They were muggle, and the only reason Draco had even tried it was because they were in Paris and a wizard had given him one before his father had figured out that they were muggle and therefore not worth their time.

But it had been so good , so sour and it had lasted ten minutes in Draco’s mouth, and even though he had been eight and had had much more fun wizarding candy since then, he still considered them his favorite.

Draco didn’t even remember telling Harry that story, but he must have, because no one else in the entire world knew that Draco’s favorite candy was Lemonheads.

“They are,” Draco assured him, even though his tongue suddenly felt somewhat too big for his mouth and he didn’t know what to do. If his father saw him now, he would say he was- “Reprehensible!”

Harry jumped a bit, and tilted his head.

“What?”

“Nothing, sorry.” Draco tore into the box of muggle candy, mind sated now that he remembered the word. “I just remembered something. Really, Harry, I can’t believe you got these for me.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “How did you get these for me?”

Harry shrugged again.

“I had Hermione’s parents pick them up for me,” he said. Draco nodded, not really listening as he pulled out one of the yellow hard candies from the box. He popped it in his mouth and smiled at his friend.

“Thank you, Harry,” he said, not even having to think of his mother for those manners. Really, he couldn’t think of any present that he had ever received that he liked more. (Except for the season tickets to every Puddlemere game, but he wasn’t sure anything could beat that.)

“Of course, Draco.” Harry shrugged again. “I know it’s not how your birthday would usually go back at the Manor, but I wanted to get something you liked.”

“Really,” Draco insisted. “It’s perfect. Do you want to try one?” He held out one of the candies, which Harry looked at for a second before taking. His face screwed up spectacularly when he put it in his mouth, and Draco laughed uproariously at it.

“Draco, those are so sour, how do you like that?” Harry asked, astonished. His words sounded weird as he struggled to talk around the candy.

“I don’t know, I like sour things.” If he was Harry he would have shrugged, but Malfoy’s did not shrug.

“Weirdo,” Harry said seriously, pressing on Draco’s shoulder in what was probably supposed to be a friendly push. Harry was too careful for that, though, so it was just a warm press of his hand through Draco’s uniform. 

“You’re the weirdo,” Draco replied haughtily, still giggling at the face Harry had made.

“Sure,” Harry agreed. He was smiling again. “Happy birthday, Draco.”

Draco beamed at him.

(His stomach dropped and heart squeezed painfully when the news of Harry’s hospitalization and adventure against the Dark Lord made their rounds, and it was the first time Draco felt real, true fear.)

June 5, 1993 - Second Year

Draco almost forgot it was his birthday. 

Actually, he did, right up until his mother sent the usual birthday chocolates at breakfast. Draco then had to spend a few minutes trying to figure out why he forgot his own birthday.

Okay, well, he knew why. Draco had been sick with worry for Harry since it got out that he had gone who-knows-where and saved the girl Weasley. The Hogwarts rumor mill was surprisingly bereft of details, but, knowing Harry, it was something ridiculously dangerous. Draco at least knew he got hurt doing whatever it was, because his arm was wrapped tightly in white bandages, and his normal warm brown skin was clammy and three shades paler, only just starting to regain its natural color, one week later.

As Harry’s best friend, Draco usually was well-informed on whatever recklessly Gryffindor thing Harry had gotten up to, and, while he still worried, was reassured enough by the reckless Gryffindor himself.

However, as Harry’s secret best friend, Draco also was left to the fates of how well Harry could get away from his adoring fans, and, ever since whatever happened, he hadn’t been able to find any time alone.

He could, of course, sneak out at night with his invisibility cloak, and he did offer in the one note he had managed to slip Draco, but Draco had immediately refuted that idea. A blind man could see how much Harry needed his sleep, and Draco would rather lose his own sleep worrying about him than take away Harry’s.

Long story short, Draco was a little strung out, which had made itself apparent when he had stared at his mother’s birthday wishes uncomprehendingly for a half a minute before actually realizing what she was saying.

But, really, his birthday didn’t change much. It was any other day. They had exams to study for, so, despite it being a clear, beautiful June Saturday, Draco and the other Slytherin’s trudged their way to the library and claimed as many tables as they could get their hands on.

Draco then spent three hours with his nose in a book. Many books, in fact. He scribbled notes half-heartedly on a parchment, but he had always been good at retaining information if he read it a few times, so he started a circuit of two books per subject. 

By just before lunch time, he had read through Transfiguration, Herbology and Potions and was starting Charms. Well, he would have been starting Charms, except when he emerged from the end of his Potions text and looked for a Charms book, it wasn’t on the table.

Draco groaned to himself, but stood up anyway. His unused limbs ached for a second, but the pain dulled as he started walking. Draco cracked his neck absentmindedly as he wandered the shelves towards the Charms section. The books he needed were just in sight when a hand clamped down on his robe sleeve and started pulling.

Draco, now accustomed to this, just followed where the hand pulled him, until he ended up in an aisle towards the back of the library that contained… something. Those titles weren’t in English, French or Latin. 

“Hi,” Harry greeted him softly. He didn’t smile, which stirred the pit of worry in Draco’s stomach.

“Hi,” he replied anyway. “Are you okay?”

That got a little smile.

“Yes,” Harry answered. “I think so. Just recovering.”

“From what?” Draco checked his friend over surreptitiously, eyes lingering on his bandaged arm. Harry reached out and took Draco’s hand with the uninjured one, which caused Draco’s gaze to immediately snap to where Harry was intertwining their fingers.

Draco’s pale white fingers looked stark against Harry’s golden-brown, but Draco liked it. He ignored the way his cheeks started to heat.

When he looked up, Harry’s cheeks were flushed faintly, but he was finally giving Draco a real, genuine smile.

“I’ll tell you later,” Harry told him. Draco opened his mouth to argue that they had plenty of time now, and, even if they didn’t, Harry could easily tell him a short version at least, but Harry continued before Draco could protest. “I wanted to make sure I talked to you today, though.”

Draco sighed through his nose. Really, his birthday was insubstantial when Harry had probably had a near-death experience just a week ago. Draco told him as much, but it only caused Harry to shake his head firmly.

“No, Draco, your birthday is very important,” he insisted. “Besides, I got you your present ages ago, so I have to give it to you.”

Draco tried not to, but the mention of a present caught his attention, and he peered at Harry curiously despite himself.

“Oh, alright,” Draco acquiesced. “I suppose that makes sense.”

Harry smirked at him, to which Draco scowled. Harry then let go of Draco’s hand, which was very sad indeed, and left Draco feeling cold and bereft where they had been touching. He tried not to show it, and instead tucked his hand into his robe pocket as he watched Harry pull out a long, thin box from his bag. 

“Here you go,” Harry said unnecessarily as he handed it to Draco, which Draco immediately knew meant he was nervous. Draco didn’t know why. Didn’t Harry know that Draco would like anything he got for him?

Draco opened the box without flourish, and immediately felt his eyes go wide and mouth drop open in an incredibly indelicate reaction, but couldn’t bring himself to care.

In the box was a long silver chain with a simple star pendant that was lined in small shining diamonds surrounding an emerald inlaid in the center. Draco stared at it, then looked back up at Harry slowly. 

Harry was biting his lip, watching Draco with uncertain eyes. Well, that wouldn’t do.

“Harry,” Draco started slowly. He licked his lips, trying to think of the words to express what he was feeling, “this is incredible.” Mmm, no, not the right ones.

“Yes, well,” Harry stuttered slightly. “It was very pretty, I thought, and you’re-” Harry’s face turned a very bright red. 

“I’m what?” Draco asked, staring back down at the necklace, and then back at Harry when he took a while to answer.

“You’re pretty, too,” he muttered, barely loud enough to be heard. Draco felt his face heat up, to the point that he was sure he was redder than Harry. “And, you know, Draco is a constellation and it’s a star,” he said, louder.

“Oh,” Draco replied, for lack of something better. “I mean, thank you.”

Harry somehow blushed brighter, but he nodded hesitantly. “So, you like it?”

Draco clutched the box to his chest and tried to sound as earnest as he felt.

“I love it.” Draco looked down at the necklace and carefully extracted it from the box, watching it as it dangled from his fingers. He focused back on Harry, who was watching him with a soft expression on his face. “Would you put it on me?”

Harry nodded again, more confidently and with a grin. He reached out and took the necklace from Draco, who turned around.

The necklace came over his head and rested on his chest, and Draco felt the feather light touch of Harry’s fingers on the back of his neck, which sent shivers down his spine.

“Done,” Harry said quietly, and Draco turned around slowly, coming face-to-face with his best friend.

“I love it, Harry,” Draco repeated, because Harry needed to know, needed to know how much it meant to him that Harry had seen something so beautiful (and expensive) and thought of him.  

Harry smiled, really smiled, and Draco couldn’t do anything but smile back.

“I’m glad,” he said, and he reached forward to entwine their fingers again. “Happy birthday, Draco.”

Draco squeezed his hand.

(It was all his father’s fault, and he hated his father and hated that he could be a part of something that had hurt the most important person in Draco’s life.)

June 5, 1994 - Third Year

Draco was miserable.

In less than a day, that poor hippogriff was going to be executed, and it was all his fault.

“It’s not your fault, love,” Harry whispered into his ear, cuddling him closer. Draco was curled up in his lap, head tucked into the crook of his neck and legs sprawled out in front of them, tangled together.

“I’m the reason it’s happening,” Draco muttered back, nuzzling Harry’s exposed neck. Harry heaved a sigh, and Draco briefly felt very guilty for being so despondent on him, but then remembered that Harry had told him he liked taking care of Draco and settled.

“Really, Draco,” Harry insisted. “It’s all your father. Not you.” He turned his head so he was speaking into Draco’s hair, pressing a kiss there.

That was one good thing that had come out of their awful year, a year when Harry was being actively hunted by a crazed madman and Draco was forced into acting like even bigger of a dick than he had been. He hated his father, hated him for putting Draco in this position. 

But it was nice, Draco readily admitted, not having to hide his feelings from Harry anymore, and their mutual confession wouldn’t have happened if Draco hadn’t felt the need to rile up the hippogriff or risk exposure.

Harry held Draco in silence for another few minutes before he finally spoke again.

“I have something for you,” he whispered, tilting Draco’s head up so he could see Draco’s face. “A present.”

The idea of a present sparked something warm in Draco’s chest like always, but it was subdued by the weight of crushing guilt. Harry frowned at Draco’s lack of reaction, but said nothing, instead reaching over to his bag and pulling out a small box.

He presented it to Draco silently, and Draco took it slowly, with slightly trembling fingers. He carefully lifted the lid.

A ring. Thick and silver, with a flat top and an engraving on it. Draco the box up carefully to the floating ball of light Harry had cast when they had first entered the abandoned classroom, and it floated closer to him obediently.

The engraving was the letter ‘B’ written in an old-fashioned script, and there was a bird with spread wings behind it, stark in a sharp black color that highlighted the letter.

“The Black family motto is ‘Toujours Pur,’ which means ‘always pure,’” Harry said quietly. Draco looked up at him, but couldn’t read the expression on his face. “Obviously not good. Their family crest is a terrifying ordeal, honestly, but I did like the crows on it. I wanted-” 

He paused, then sighed. 

“All I’ve ever wanted in life was a family.” Harry brought a hand up to toy with Draco’s hair seemingly absentmindedly. Draco knew he was trying to distract himself from what he was saying. “I hate the thought that you’re so amazing and you have to deal with such a horrible one. Your father is such an awful person, and you don’t deserve that, love. But your mum isn’t, really. I’ve never met her, obviously, but the way you talk about her makes her seem like the most wonderful, most loving mother in the whole world.” 

Harry’s eyes landed on Draco’s, and he carded his fingers through his hair. 

“That’s the kind of family you deserve. Not your dad, your mum. And I know you’ve got just about a billion things with the Malfoy crest on them, but I figured you might not have so much of your mum’s side of the family.” Harry nudged the hand that was holding the ring box, drawing Draco’s gaze to it. “So, I did some research when I was stuck in Diagon over the summer. The black family bird is the crow, which is a harbinger of death. Quite morbid, but it’s peaceful too, I think. To have an escort when your time comes.”

“You’re being quite philosophical, Harry,” Draco finally croaked out, voice sounding wrecked. Harry shrugged under Draco and offered up a half-grin.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about death,” he offered in explanation. “With this whole Sirius Black thing. How my parents died, how I might die. And about family, when it comes to my parents.” Harry smoothed a hand over Draco’s forehead, brushing away the stray strands of hair that hung there. “I told you. I want you to have something that you can think of as ‘family’ that also doesn’t immediately bring your dad to mind.”

“But-” Draco swallowed when his voice came out sounding even worse than a moment ago. He tried again after a second, and it was only marginally better. “But what about Sirius Black? He’s in the Black family too and he’s-”

“I know,” Harry interrupted. “But he doesn’t speak for you or your mom. You can make your own definition of the Black family. You can do whatever you want.”

And that was that. Draco was officially crying. It was messy, too, how embarrassing. 

Harry was lovely about it, though, just cradled his face softly and kissed his forehead, murmuring comforting words that Draco didn’t comprehend but helped regardless.

“Merlin, how are you so perfect,” Draco sobbed noisily, startling an aggressive snort out of his boyfriend.

“I practiced that speech in my head for hours,” Harry whispered loudly, causing Draco to laugh wetly. Draco stared down at the ring in the box, winking innocently in the floating white light. He very carefully pulled it out of the velvet, dropping the box, before sliding it almost reverently onto his left index finger, the ring magically resizing to fit perfectly. It was cold and heavy and Draco loved it and he loved what it meant and he loved Harry so, so much (they had only been together for a little while, though, so he kept that last one to himself).

Instead, Draco threaded his fingers through Harry’s, who squeezed their joined hands comfortingly. Draco admired the clean silver wrapped around his own long, piano player finger as it was surrounded by Harry’s dark and calloused hand. 

“You’re perfect,” Draco repeated, needing Harry to understand. He wasn’t sure if he really got the message across (he wasn’t sure he could communicate the all-consuming love and adoration he felt), but Harry pressed a dry kiss to Draco’s wet cheek.

“Happy birthday, Draco,” he whispered, lips moving against Draco’s skin.

Draco turned his head and kissed him. 

(Two days later, Harry regaled Draco with the tale of Buckbeak’s freedom and Sirius’ innocence and Draco twisted the Black family ring on his finger and felt proud, proud of who he was and who he could be.)

June 5, 1995 - Fourth Year

Draco didn’t know what to expect.

Harry had pulled him to the side earlier, gave him a quick kiss and birthday wish, and then informed him to go to their usual classroom after curfew. So far, Draco’s presents had been everywhere from innocent to complimentary to emotional, so, yes, Draco was a bit wary of whatever Harry had gotten him this year, if only to avoid the embarrassing reaction that he had had last year.

When he walked into the classroom Harry was already there, sitting on the professor’s desk at the front of the room next to a cake with white frosting and fruit decorations, big enough for two. Draco’s chest expanded with warmth, and he was smiling as he made his way to stand between Harry’s legs.

“Hello, love,” Harry greeted, still speaking softly like he always had despite the leagues of confidence he had gained. 

“Hello,” Draco replied, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. “This all for me?”

“‘Course.” Harry set one hand on Draco’s hip and nudged the cake with the other one. “Vanilla with honey buttercream and candied fruit.”

“My favorite,” Draco added unnecessarily. They both knew it was his favorite. He just loved the idea that Harry had remembered his favorite cake and gotten it for him, and he wanted to say it out loud.

“‘Course,” Harry repeated, pressing a quick peck to Draco’s cheek before pushing him lightly away. Draco crossed his arms and pouted, drawing a snort. “Cake first, kisses later,” Harry admonished.

“What about kisses now, cake now, and kisses later?” Draco asked innocently as Harry set two forks on the plate. He narrowed his eyes at Draco.

“Don’t push it, birthday boy,” he warned. Draco laughed lightly and went to sit on the desk on the other side of the cake. 

They ate in companionable silence, broken by quiet words and hushed giggles. Eventually, when there was only the last of the candied fruit left on the plate and Harry was watching Draco systematically spear each one with his fork, he brought out a box.

He handed it to Draco with an innocent smile.

“This isn’t going to make me cry again, is it?” Draco asked suspiciously after finishing his fruit, taking the box. Harry’s eyes twinkled with mirth.

“No,” he assured. “No emotional speeches or breakdowns this year.”

Draco, mollified, opened the box curiously.

A cloak pin. It was silver, and in the design of a dragon that was extraordinarily detailed in its carving. Draco looked up at Harry happily.

“It’s gorgeous,” he said, lifting the pin to watch it shine against the floating lights. He looked back at Harry to see something that could only be described as a shit-eating grin. Draco squinted at him, then held the pin out further away from himself. “What?” he demanded. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” Harry answered honestly, eyes shining. “Look closer at it.”

Draco made sure his suspicion was made clear as he reluctantly brought the pin closer to him. It took him a second. Then he realized. He sighed heavily, and Harry burst into delighted laughter.

“A Hungarian Horntail,” Draco groaned. “As if I haven’t seen enough of those for three lifetimes.”

Harry wiped the side of his eyes as he giggled, and Draco valiantly tamped down on the smile that was trying to emerge.

“You’ll think of me every time you see it,” Harry informed him. Draco rolled his eyes.

“I’ll think about you racing around on a broom trying to get yourself blasted to smithereens as my poor heart tried to jump out of its chest, you mean,” he corrected drily. Harry collapsed in another fit of laughter. 

“You’re so dramatic,” Harry managed to say through his gasping breaths. Draco squawked ( not dramatically) and Harry fell off the desk. 

Draco looked down at his boyfriend with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. He set the cloak pin back in its box carefully (it really was beautiful) and gracefully slid off the desk, kneeled down next to Harry, and then flopped directly on top of him. Harry wheezed.

“Oi!” Harry exclaimed, poking his side. Draco wriggled on top of him until he was face-to-face with his boyfriend. He raised an eyebrow.

“Are you complaining?” he asked, shifting to get more comfortable. Harry bit his lip in an attempt to stop smiling.

“Only a little,” Harry told him, which earned him a pinch to his shoulder. He yelped, and Draco laughed at him.

“I was promised kisses,” Draco informed him seriously. Harry nodded, mimicking his seriousness. He was still smiling, though, so he didn’t do it very well.

“Who am I to deny you such a thing?” Harry pulled Draco down so their lips met, and Draco sighed into the kiss. Harry didn’t let it get very far, though, before he was pulling away, eyes bright.

“Happy birthday, Draco.”

Draco kissed him.

(Nineteen days later and Harry stopped laughing. Stopped smiling. Draco didn’t get to kiss him before they were forced to go their separate ways.)

June 5, 1996 - Fifth Year

Draco was on Inquisitor duty.

His birthday had been horrid, just like every day that year had been horrid. Umbridge had only gotten worse, and with her Draco was forced to get worse, until the things he was forced to say and do to innocent students left him losing his meals and staying up at night.

Harry tried to assure him that Draco was only doing what he had to. That anyone in his position would do what he was doing just to stay alive, to stay on the good side of both his father and the Dark Lord. Draco agreed, which was why he was still going along with it, but it was horrid.

On Draco’s sixteenth birthday he made a first year Hufflepuff cry, called a third year a slur she was undeserving of, and volunteered to stay out past curfew on Inquisitor duty because he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

So it was after curfew and Draco was wandering the silent, dark halls of Hogwarts aimlessly, hating himself.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and Draco tensed, turning to look at where it was coming from. There was no one there.

“What is wrong with you?” Draco hissed, looking back and forth desperately, trying to remember if anyone was supposed to be coming in this direction. The hand squeezed his shoulder comfortingly, then slid down his arm to grab his hand, pulling him the few steps it took to get him into an empty classroom. The hand let go, the door closed, and then Harry was appearing, invisibility cloak pooling around his feet.

He turned and warded the door before Draco could remind him. They had both gotten quite good at the alarm and silencing wards that they learned in order to be able to meet with each other.Still, between their OWL work, Draco’s extra duties and Harry’s extra detentions, they hadn’t been able to meet much at all. Draco missed Harry like he would miss a limb, and found it immediately easier to breathe when Harry turned to look at him with a small smile, as if a weight he wasn’t aware of had lifted off his chest.

“You’re insane,” Draco told him, crossing his arms. “This isn’t safe, Harry.”

“I was careful,” Harry assured him, striding across the room to stand in front of Draco. “And there was no way I was missing your birthday.”

Draco sighed, letting his arms drop.

“Harry-”

“No,” Harry interrupted, face resolute. He had grown, this past year. He was older, more handsome than cute, and he was stronger, both physically and emotionally. When Harry was serious about something, you listened. So Draco listened. “I have to be fast, but I wasn’t going to miss it, Draco.”

Harry took a deep breath, as if he was preparing himself for something. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He held it out so Draco could see it, then flipped the lid up. Draco’s breath caught in his throat.

Rings. Two rings. One was a polished gold, one a polished silver, with no other designs.

“You’re the most important thing in my world, Draco,” Harry said quietly, “and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t know if both of us will make it out of this war, but I want to have something that- that represents that for us, until we can get the real thing. So.” He lifted the box a little. “Promise rings.”

“Harry,” Draco breathed, sounding a little like he’d been punched in the stomach. He felt a little like he’d been punched in the stomach.

“You don’t have to take them if you don’t want to,” Harry continued, looking nervous. “But you’re, um. You’re it for me, Draco.”

“You’re it for me too,” he managed to reply. Harry smiled, big and full, and plucked the silver ring out of the box, handing it to Draco, who cast a Lumos to see it better.

On the inside there was an engraving. Until after. ♡

Draco looked up questioningly. 

“The rings are just until after the war,” Harry explained easily, pulling a gold chain out of his pocket and threading the gold ring onto it. “Until we can get married for real.”

He closed the chain and put it over his head, tucking the ring into his jumper when it fell onto his chest. He didn’t have to explain that one. Draco wore a multitude of rings, including the Black one Harry had gotten him when they were thirteen, and a plain silver one wouldn’t draw any attention. Harry, however, wore no jewelry and wouldn’t get away with a gold ring without questions.

Draco stared at him. Marriage had always been held over his head as this inevitable thing, this thing that would happen with a woman and something that he had dreaded.

But when Harry said marriage, it was a light at the end of a tunnel. It was something for after, something to live for.

Merlin, Draco loved Harry more than he could handle.

“I love you,” Draco said, choked up, and Harry softened, stepping closer to Draco until his hands were warm on Draco’s arms and he was pressing a kiss to Draco’s nose. He carefully took the ring from Draco and slid it on to Draco’s left middle finger, only one finger away from where another ring would be someday.

“I love you, too,” Harry whispered to him, breath fanning his face. He kissed Draco, sweet and slow, and Draco loved him so much.

He pulled away too early (then again, Draco would have been happy to stay in Harry’s arms, kissing him, forever) and stepped back, going for his invisibility cloak.

“I told you I would be fast,” Harry smirked. Draco huffed and rolled his eyes. 

“Goodbye, Harry,” he replied with a mocking wave in an attempt to reign in his rampant emotions. 

“Bye, Draco.” Harry smiled at him one more time, swinging the cloak over his shoulders, disappearing except for his floating head. “Happy birthday.”

Draco watched him leave, heart full and ring already warm on his finger.

(Sirius died and Draco held him through it, loved him through it, and until after became a motto between them that got them through the worst of times.)

June 5, 1997 - Sixth Year

Draco was tired.

Draco was so tired. All the time. He walked in an exhaustion-fueled daze. He spaced out more than he focused. He ate when he remembered to, which was rare. His grades dove, mostly because he couldn’t stop being tired long enough to actually do the assignments. 

He was pale and shaking and gaunt, he knew. He avoided mirrors, but he still knew. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

The only thing that mattered was black and twisted and evil, and it was branded on him. Forever. Draco would be tired forever.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to sob and rage that it wasn’t fair, that he didn’t deserve any of it, but Draco was too tired. He didn’t have the energy to do anything but lay down and accept it.

Harry cried. He cried for Draco, he said. He felt for Draco. He was constantly angry, the aggressive burn to Draco’s placid numb. Draco watched him push away his friends, push away his teachers and his mentors, all because he was feeling for Draco. Draco wanted to be upset about it, but he was too tired.

Draco had given up on his mission before he had even gotten it. His mother had assured him that she had an escape plan, that they couldn’t use her as leverage, but the thought of her life on the line still sent bile up Draco’s throat. Still, he couldn’t kill Dumbledore. Even ignoring the fact that he didn’t want to, Draco couldn’t. There was no way to.

June came. Draco wanted time to stop, so he wouldn’t have to face the horror of going home knowing that he had failed in something he didn’t want to succeed in and suffer the punishment for it.

He didn’t do anything about it. He was too tired to.

“It’s your birthday,” Harry murmured in his ear. They were in their position, with Draco curled on Harry’s lap, head tucked into his neck. It was night time, and they were meeting in their classroom. 

Draco didn’t reply. He hadn’t known, but it wouldn’t have changed anything.

“I got you something,” Harry continued. He didn’t move. Draco didn’t either. He stared at a small crack running through one of the stones in the wall.

After a moment, a flat box the size of a book levitated out of Harry’s bag. Wordless, wandless magic was a feat a lot of grown wizards didn’t achieve, but, of course, his Harry could do it. Draco was so proud of him. He wished he could say it, but he didn’t have the energy to do more than shift his gaze to the box as it floated towards them.

Harry grabbed it out of the air with the hand that wasn’t resting on Draco’s hip. He opened the box and dropped it to the side, taking out whatever was inside and flipping it over, presenting it to Draco without a word.

A solid silver picture frame. The picture in it was familiar. A seven year old Draco was sitting on his mother’s lap, posing for a picture in the luscious Manor gardens. Draco was squirming a little, and Narcissa had a small, amused smile that she was directing at him. The picture looped after a few seconds.

Draco’s hands were shaking as he reached for it, but that wasn’t new. He took it carefully, tracing his mother’s beautiful face lovingly.

“Narcissa sent it to me,” Harry told him softly. Draco experienced a flicker of confusion. “We’ve been writing to each other since third year, actually.”

That was surprising enough to get him to tilt his head up to look at Harry. Harry was looking down at him, face unreadable but gaze warm.

“I wrote her after you told her about us,” he explained without prompting. “Introducing myself. She was lovely, just like you had always told me she was. We’ve been writing ever since. I told her I needed her help with a gift for you and she was more than happy to help.”

Draco loved Harry. Of course he wrote to Draco’s mother, because he knew how important she was to him and of course he wanted to make a good impression. Harry was perfect.

Draco looked down at the frame. Harry lifted his wand and rested it on the top of it.

“Revelare picturam unus,” he said, and the picture of Draco and Narcissa faded into white. It was quickly replaced with a new picture, which was of a slightly younger Harry, facing the camera with a wide grin and holding a sign that said ‘I LOVE YOU DRACO ❤’. The Harry in the picture waved over the sign, then brought his hand to his lips to blow a kiss. The picture looped.

“What-” Draco croaked in a whisper. He didn’t need to finish. Harry squeezed his hip comfortingly.

“There are thirty pictures.” After three more loops of Harry blowing Draco a kiss the picture faded back to the one of Narcissa and Draco. “This is the default, to avoid suspicion. But, when you’re alone, all you have to do is put your wand on the frame and say ‘Revelare picturam’ and then a number between one and thirty in Latin and it’ll show that picture.”

Draco stared at the frame for another few seconds, drinking in his mother’s face, before actually moving, sitting up in Harry’s lap and staring at him. He gave Draco a small smile, hand steady on his hip. Draco wet his lips a bit and cleared his throat, attempting to rid it of the lump that had formed.

“Thank you,” he whispered, trying to pour all of his feelings into the words. Harry widened his smile, showing a flash of teeth.

“You’re welcome, my love,” he replied. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next year, where we’ll be or what we’ll be doing, but I always want you to have a reminder that there are good things.” Harry brought his free hand to poke Draco lightly in the chest. “You’re a good thing. We’re a good thing.”

“You’re perfect,” Draco said back, because it wasn’t hard to say something so true. Harry’s cheeks pinked, and he continued smiling.

“I love you,” he replied, cupping Draco’s cheek in his palm. “Happy birthday.”

“I love you,” Draco told him, and it was the easiest thing he ever said.

(Those thirty pictures and the thought of the person who gifted them to him were the only things that got Draco through the worst year of his life.)

June 5, 1998 - Seventh Year

Draco woke up warm and comfortable.

Sunlight streamed onto his face, and he had to blink a few times to adjust to it. He stretched out under the heavy duvet, enjoying the feeling until he hit the cold spot on the other side of the bed. Draco frowned over at it, but his confusion didn’t last long. 

A knock on the door, and then Harry was coming in, clad in flannel pajama bottoms and a faded red shirt. He grinned when he caught sight of Draco, no doubt rumpled and sleepy-looking.

“Good morning, love,” he greeted, wasting no time in climbing into the bed and collapsing on top of Draco, who groaned.

“Good morning, Fat Friar,” he wheezed, prompting a bark of laughter from Harry. He did roll off of Draco, landing on his side and tucking his arm under his head so he could look at Draco.

“Do you know what day it is?” Harry asked curiously. Draco furrowed his eyebrows in thought, trying to go over what they had done that week. Just meeting with friends, working on charities, doing interviews. 

“Thursday?” Draco guessed, reasonably confident he was close.

“Friday,” Harry corrected with a grin. “Friday, June 5th.”

Draco let out a breath.

“Oh,” he sighed. “I forgot.”

“I can tell,” Harry said, amused. Draco whacked his arm softly. Harry just kept on grinning at him. “I got you something.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Draco deadpanned, even though a spark of warmth raced through his body. He loved getting gifts, loved getting them from Harry. 

Staring at Harry’s limp body had turned Draco’s world on its head and then shot it just as dead. Harry was Draco’s life, he was Draco’s reason, he was everything. Learning he was alive was euphoric, it was the biggest shock and relief that he would ever experience, and Draco swore that he would appreciate everything about Harry, remember everything, that he would never let a second go by when he wasn’t aware of and loving Harry.

“Shush,” Harry laughed. He didn’t do anything, though, didn’t pull out any box or grab Draco’s hand to pull him somewhere. Just settled and stared at him, so adoring it made Draco flush slightly. He smiled at it, then breathed deeply. “This one has a little speech to go with it, if that’s okay.”

“Don’t they all have a speech?” Draco teased, ignoring the ball of emotion in his chest.

“The cloak pin didn’t,” Harry pointed out. “Or the Lemonheads.”

“Ah, the Lemonheads,” Draco reminisced, thinking back to their eleven year old selves. “That was the best one.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry told him seriously, ruining it a moment later by snickering. Draco reached over and grabbed his hand. 

“Well, get on with it,” he prompted. “I’m waiting for a speech.”

Harry smiled, and said nothing for a moment.

“I knew I was going to die,” he finally said. Draco stopped breathing. “I thought it during our fifth year and knew it during our sixth, and I accepted it in our seventh. I knew I would have to sacrifice myself for the world and I- I couldn’t say goodbye to you, Draco, because if I did I wouldn’t have gone through with it.” Harry squeezed Draco’s hand, his smile distinctly more watery than before. “I would have given up it all for you, Draco. But I did it, and then I came back to you. For you. I live for you, I do everything for you, because you are everything, Draco, you’re everything to me. You’re it for me.”

Harry breathed in shakily, but he was grinning so wide and Draco knew what was happening because he remembered those words, and that knowledge was a Lumos in his chest. 

“I know we’ve technically been engaged since we were fifteen, but I figured we could make it a bit more official,” he continued, and then he was reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little black box that he flipped open to reveal a beautiful ring with twisting silver lines and a smooth black onyx in the center. Draco recognized it immediately as a Black heirloom.

“So, Draco Malfoy, would you do me the unbelievable honor of becoming your husband?” Harry asked. A tear slipped down the bridge of Draco’s nose, and another one down his temple, because he was still laying down sideways in his fucking bed and it was his birthday and Harry was proposing with a Black heirloom and Draco loved him, loved him so much.

“Yes,” he sobbed, then cleared his throat immediately with a little laugh, which Harry mirrored. “Yeah, yes, of course, Harry.”

Harry grinned so wide it looked like it hurt. He lifted Draco’s hand up to slide on the ring, which fit perfectly, of course. Draco couldn’t stop looking between it and Harry, couldn’t stop thinking about how happy he was. He felt like he could burst with it. 

He lunged forward, tackling Harry onto his back and laughing with him. He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together and breathing in, staring into his fiancé’s gorgeous green eyes.

“I love you so much,” Harry whispered, warm air ghosting across Draco’s lips. 

“I love you, too, Harry.” Draco pressed forward into a kiss that warmed him from his hair to his toes. Harry broke away after a moment to give him a blinding smile.

“Happy birthday, Draco,” he said, kissing him again.

Draco had never been happier in his life.

(‘Happily ever after’ had never been in the cards for Draco, but he managed to achieve it anyway.)

----------

long authors note incoming because this is most likely the only hp fic i will ever write and i need to get some thoughts out. skip to the end for my goodbye.

i characterize draco in one word: cat.

they both: hiss when threatened or angry but know when to run away, are protective of those in their fold but are also fiercely independent, always feel like they're the best one in the room, long suffering, sleepy in the sun (manor? cold. slytherin? cold. bed? warm. warm=sleep), love languages are gift receiving and physical touch, love giving languages are gift giving and quality time, vain and pretty, picky eater, whine and complain, THE LIST GOES ON

harry is a flustered bumbling mess in front of people but in private he is the biggest, smoothest romantic because he has spent his whole life thinking of what he wants in a relationship and my god he is going to make his perfect.

narcissa adopts harry immediately he is thirteen and cannot spell to save his life but he is nice and respectful and draco waxes poetic about him while still managing to spin it like he hates him, they are perfect together.

everyone is shocked when they learn of the relationship but they are even more shocked when they witness their interactions because they are so clearly in love how the fuck did they manage to hide it all these years.

i have more but i will spare yall. anyway.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FABLE I LOVE YOU AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY AND ENJOYED THIS I FINISHED IT THREE MINUTES AGO :DD

check me out on ao3 (@thepenguinclub) have a good rest of your week and i love you. bye.

[skylinesnsunshines]

kiss of life reading: current energies

hi everyone <3 long time no chat, im actually back and happy new year! :'). i apologise for not being consistent and absent this last year, my life has made a 360 and i had a lot going on which caused me to stop focusing on tarot. however, i've been slowly getting into it and i feel like i now have a better grasp on my life so i am now doing readings again. i'll be pickier on who i do readings for but still feel free to send your requests. hope you enjoy! <3

DISCLAIMER: this is all speculative and for entertainment purposes only, so take it with a grain of salt :)

personal readings

(italicised is the card on the bottom of the tarot deck which is meant to represent the subconscious/blind spot of the situation + rx means reversed)

JULIE 🐰

page of cups, page of pentacles, 4 of swords, 7 of pentacles | snake: creation | balance | pleasure

when i was pulling julie's cards, i envisioned her stepping back and learning new skills (could be a new instrument or something like that). i think she's currently in a period of experimentation and learning different skills that aids her in her artistry. the 2 page cards tells me that she's trying out new things outside of her comfort zone and improving the skills she already has. the page of cups details new ideas, which could be tied into kiof's next comeback and how they are brainstorming a concept or idea. with the two pages as well, julie could also be offered many different opportunities, and I feel that she is a bit overwhelmed. she could be in a period of self-reflection and truly asking herself what/who she wants to align herself with as the has multiple opportunities. contrasting the two cards, the 4 of swords details rest, recuperation, meditation, etc. which I could totally see for julie. she could be manifesting an opportunity and is currently in her "receiving" state. the 7 of pentacles on the bottom does indicate that she is working diligently, and putting her head down and focusing on herself and her craft. i feel like julie will really challenge herself this year and we might see a different side of her than what we are used to.

the snake card is interesting to me, as the pages indicate creation, julie is definitely feeding her creative need and focusing on experimentation. the pleasure card tells me that she is enjoying her job and often forgets time as a result. the balance card does tell me that she needs to be mindful of how deep she is in her work, as there is a tendency for her to be burnt out.

NATTY🦦

knight of pentacles rx, strength, hermit, emperor rx | gorilla: peace | rest | flexibility

natty could be focusing on reclaiming her energy and resting. currently, natty could be focusing on self-improvement and creating a routine for herself that helps her achieve her goals. all her cards detail that she is currently in an introspective mood and spending her days recharging herself. the strength card tells me that natty might be struggling with feelings of perfectionism, but the universe wants her to remember that she is capable in overcoming everything that she thinks she is unable to do. i know kiof is planning a comeback next month so i wonder if natty has been feeling burnt out preparing for that. the hermit tells me that natty has been doing a lot of introspection and focusing on herself. natty could be practising or looking to improve her skills herself. the emperor rx tells me that natty's perfectionistic traits could be at a high right now, and that she needs to reign in her need for control as it can be detrimental to her growth.

the gorilla card describes someone who leads by example and focuses on having inner peace for themselves. the rest and flexibility cards tell me that natty could be feeling the need to control and have been focusing on following a rigid routine for the comeback.

BELLE🐥

justice, 2 of cups, 8 of wands, the chariot rx | swan: beauty | strength | trust

currently, belle could be entering a significant relationship in her life. 2 of cups usually depict romance so it could either be a significant partnership in her career (justice deals with the law) or a romantic partnership. either way, the energy seems significant and is progressing at a rapid speed (8 of wands). this could have come out of nowhere, which is what caught belle by surprise, however, the justice card is a good sign as it represents equal reciprocation and effort. the chariot card in reverse on the bottom tells me that belle would subconsciously want to be a bit more cautious in this scenario, due to its fast movement. belle's person could be wanting to move the relationship to a more serious commitment, but belle could be the one that wants to take a slower approach to this relationship.

swan details romance again, this girl could enter her lovergirl era as it reminds us that beauty is subjective and to look for beauty in everything. strength and trust could mean that belle is unsure and wary about this relationship, so the universe just wants to remind her that she has immense personal strength and to trust that she is divinely protected.

HANEUL🦊

the emperor, 2 of pentacles, the world rx, queen of cups rx | snake: creation | confidence | blessings

haneul could be becoming more vocal and demanding (not in a bad way) in her personal life. i have this feeling that haneul is starting to know what makes her happy and what she wants to do career wise. i feel this sense of autonomy has come into haneul as she has experienced life more. the 2 of pentacles signifies juggling between two things, so haneul might be doing lots of work regarding her personal life and career and juggling it well. i also get the feeling that she might receive an increase on her finances from a male figure in her life, my assumption is that she is learning to diversify her skills as an artist and receives more income that way. with the world rx, i feel like haneul is seeking closure on a certain situation. maybe she started a project but it didn't pan out to how she envisioned and she is still holding onto that hope. the queen of cups rx tells me regarding this specific situation, haneul needs to prioritise her feelings and emotions and focus on self-love as i feel like this situation affected her personally.

just like julie, i think haneul is experimenting with her music and what/who she wants to be as an artist. she could be working together with julie when it comes to music or dancing. the confidence tells me that the situation that didn't come into fruition has affected haneul's confidence. i think she could also be experimenting in the next comeback and lost confidence cause its out of her comfort zone. however, the blessings card is a good omen that all the work haneul is doing will benefit her in the future. the blessings card tell me that although haneul might struggle with her confidence or feelings currently, haneul will experience positivity and prosperity soon.

that is all! if you have any feedback, comments, queries or requests please don’t hesitate to reach out to me my ask box is always open. sending you all love, light, positivity and abundance <3 much love