#one of the best purchases of the year tbh

[crustywhitedogenthusiast]

my family went Out this weekend, the babies really like their stroller (mostly paloma)

[glasseswearingrabbitdetective]

It just doesn’t feel that satisfying somehow,, In the past you could get several suits for this price qq I love this suit a lot and I got 2 pieces of the demon suit bc I had to pay slightly over to get it to 550 exp(and had no luck with daily deals >>) but ;; welp… bye money, hello beautiful cat girl who I’ve wanted since the second I saw her previewed for cn-! Gotta focus on positives! not the ~20 or smt aud im trying not think about GKAKVKA

She be like this ^ GODLY!

[n0tamused]

Have you by any chance seen someone on Twitter posting a translated version of Xiangli Yao's daily schedule? How about writing something like what his schedule would be with the reader (already in a relationship) maybe on a day off? Something like: 8:00 AM - get up and start day 10:00-12:00 AM snuggled in bed with y/n as a result. Or - 4:00 PM - prosthetic maintenance. ambushed from behind. (Imagine nuzzling him from behind while he tinkers with his hand 🥺) Something like a bunch of small drabbles in 1 work? I guess finding someone to write for him awakened something in my brain, I'msorry.

A/n: I have heard of this schedule but tbh I didn't see it myself before I got this request lol, I really find the idea sweet so I hope I did it justice! And no need to apologize, I am happy to write for Xangli Yao

Contents: Xiangli Yao x GN!Reader, fluff, short drabbles, established relationship not proofread

Saturday:

08:30 - Wake up

It’s been many years since Xiangli Yao has practiced this continuous cycle of waking up at certain times, to the point he did not need an alarm clock anymore. It was 8:14 when he came to his senses, morning light sleeping through the blinds and softly caressing his eyelids to open. He turns away from them, shifting sluggishly underneath the blankets, knowing that work wasn’t waiting on him today. 

He is greeted by your sleeping face, relaxed and soft as the few spots of light from the blinds danced over your cheeks and lips. The light didn’t seem to disturb you, something he was thankful for as he shuffled closer and wrapped his good arm around you, bringing you closer to his warmth as he nuzzled his nose into the top of your head, breathing in your scent as your hair tickled his skin. He feels you mold into his shape, your sleep heavy arm going underneath his and over his side, the blanket keeping your shared warmth trapped, shielding you from the chilly morning.

09:30 - make breakfast with my beloved :) 

Well, it may have been 9:10 by the time you both willed yourself to leave the comforts of eachothers arms. It was hunger that pulled you both from bed, stumbling into the bathroom. Xiangli Yao was next to you as you washed your face while he brushed his teeth. He handed you your toothbrush after you blindly found the towel next to the sink and brushed your face dry. 

Although he had gotten used to being the one to prepare breakfast for both of you during workdays, the weekends did allow more time, and so Yao did try to listen to you more when you said you wanted to help or do more of the work since you don’t usually get the chance to do so. He did convince you some times before, letting you so simply sit aside and look pretty while he whips you up your favorite, but today wasn’t that day. You woke up with more energy and a craving for good quality time and to get your hands busy.

What ends up happening is a table full of food, a big but balanced breakfast of veggies and fruit and needed protein. While you were setting up the table, Xiangli Yao poured you both the juice you made the weekend. He may not think about it too often, but he always feels like the richest man in the world when he shares mornings like these with you.

13:00 - go to the market, restock groceries

His prosthetic arm is holding the basket while the fingers of his other hand are intertwined with yours. Xiangli Yao was yet to become truly used to these public displays of affection, but he never disliked them. The thing was that such little acts of affection flustered him so much at first and he’d rather not catch someone ogling him while his cheeks are red as the tomatoes you were looking at now. He was used to it, he tells himself as he slowly lets your fingers slip from his hold when you say you can use some of the tomatoes. He remembers you mentioning a recipe some time ago that required a good amount of tomatoes. He helps you pick out the best ones and he adds it to the basket after the purchase is done. Although today’s shopping trip ended with more bags than either of you expected, Xiangli Yao vehemently refused to  allow you to carry any of the bags.

You ended up stopping at the local dessert shop, purchasing a few sweet goods for home. You mentioned how the chocolate cake he got looked oddly similar to Xiang-LEE. Now he couldn’t unsee it..

16:00 - prosthetic maintenance(p.s. keep your back guarded!)

How oddly homely it felt to have your arms around him while he tinkered away on his mechanical arm..

Although at first you only observed him from the doorway, he chose to skillfully ignore you when you began to sneak closer, almost as if he couldn’t see you from the corner of his eye. 

You knew he knew too, but it's a game you both chose to play every evening when the sun began to lean in to kiss the mountains. 

You hum as you put your chin on top of his head, peering down at the assortment of open wires and metal plating scattered about on the table. There's a screwdriver in his good hand, and he's clearly doing something, but you're unsure what. Perhaps you'd ask one day, tell him to explain how his arm really works, but that is not today.

He feels you leaning in and kissing his cheek and then his temple.

“The meal is soon to be done. Don't keep me waiting all alone at the table, Xiangli Yao”

19:00 - Free activities 

Xiangli Yao can't help the chuckle that escapes him as he witnesses your scowl and furrowed brows, and all for the little board game with black and white pieces. You've won the round from last night and he deemed it appropriate to ask for a rematch, although he only wished to make you blow off the steam. You've been rather stressed this week, perhaps some back and forth of the game could allow a reprieve.

“You've been thinking about your next move for quite some time now, my love…” he tries, a smile plastered on his lips, both amused and sympathetic.

“...I got it…shh” you return, pushing your chin into the heel of your palm. He hums in response, and another few heartbeats of silence pass before he sees your face light up, as if a star had whispered the next act into your ear. Your fingers deftly move across the board and move your piece across the checkerboard.

“Checkmate!” 

He laughs, his chest shaking with joy as you beam at him. You beat him. Again.

22:30 - bedtime

Mornings are where Xiangli Yao thrives. He is a morning person to the last bone in his body and on work days it is not rare for him to rise before you and his alarm, but they don’t bring him nearly as much relief and joy as bedtime does. Your sleepy face as you go to brush your teeth and change into your bedwear always has his heart softening, his own movements slowing down as his entire body yawns for the comforts of the mattress and comfortable blankets.

He is sitting at the edge of the bed, tinkering with his prosthetic arm for the last time and setting it aside on the table right next to his side of the bed. His prosthetic is cold and rather uncomfortable to sleep with for both of you. From behind he hears you exiting the bathroom and the sound of your bare feet against the floor hurrying up has him turning around to see how you crash into the bed, your face buried into your pillow with a low groan, a breath of relief as weight is taken off your feet.

He shuffles, telling you to get under the blankets while he turns off the lights. Once he remembered you both joking about being afraid of the dark, and although it was all just a joke - Xiangli Yao has been the one to turn off the lights since then. 

He hums as he returns, sliding under the blankets and finding the warmth of your body with searching fingers, pulling himself closer until he was wrapped around you. He buries his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent before laying a lingering kiss to your cheek, bidding you goodnight. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: language, violence, oral (male receiving)

Chapter Word Count: 5306

—-MDNI—-

A/N: kind of an odd chapter tbh, there was a few things that I wanted to write so it felt best to squeeze them all in together. I want to start getting into the romance side of things with Dean, so I guess that starts here. Also I’ve been away sick so I’ve added a bit of spiciness.

New readers start here: Prologue

Previous Chapter: Chapter 13

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 14

I grasped the hanger off the rail and slung the pair of flared jeans over my arm to join the other items I was purchasing. Dean had been kind enough to give me a hundred bucks in cash - God knows where from - to get myself whatever I needed whilst he and Sam sauntered off to the menswear stores. As I browsed, lifting a crocheted crop top up before scrunching my nose at the thought of how little it would cover, the bell to the store jingled as someone else walked in. I heard footsteps slowly pace down the short aisle I was in, and as I placed the top back on the rail, I almost jumped out of my skin as someone started talking.

“Oh hey, it's (Y/n) right? You're bunking with the Winchester boys?”

I snapped my head up at the female voice, not expecting anyone out here but Sam and Dean to know my name. My eyes met a pair of warm brown ones, faint crows feet in the corners from years of joy and smiles. I recognised her; she was the short haired woman in the bunker kitchen the night we got back from the strip club.

“Uuhhhh ye- yes! You know Sam and Dean?” My expression was clearly confused as she grinned and held out her hand.

“The names Jody Mills. I've known the boys for a while now - through hunting. It's a pleasure to meet you at last - I've heard great things about you,” I juggled the clothing in my arms and grasped her outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake. She seemed to grin at that.

“Oh, they talk about me? I had no idea,” I suddenly felt a little nervous, the knowledge that I've been the topic of conversations unbeknownst to myself made me sweat a little. Jody seemed to notice this.

“They've only had great things to say, so don't panic! Especially that boy Dean. Not sure how you've done it chick but you really got that wild card wrapped around your little finger,” she raised her eyebrows almost suggestively and I felt heat start to prickle my skin.

“Wh-what? No no no, he's not-” I watched as her head tilted in my direction, eyebrows still raised as a slight grin tugged on her lips. “Have I really?”

She hummed and nodded her head, starting to flick through the clothing rail that I'd been looking at before.

“I've known that boy a few years now, and I've never seen him run to anyone the way he ran to you that night you appeared in the kitchen, looking like a kicked kitten,” she smiled softly and squeezed my arm, “you're something special to him honey, so try not to break his heart.”

“Oh,” was all I managed to say, with what I can imagine was the dumbest look on my face as I felt myself getting redder by the second. A phone ringing suddenly pulled me from my dazed thoughts as Jody reached into her pocket and answered the call. She spoke in a sterner tone than what she'd used with me, and after a few words were exchanged she hung up and returned the device to her pocket.

“I've gotta get going, but I'll try and catch you all again later. I'm in the area for a bit so I'll try and pop by. It was lovely to meet you (Y/n),” she squeezed my arm one last time before turning to leave, the bell on the door signalling her departure. I stood for a moment, my mind spinning from what she'd said about Dean. There was absolutely no way that what she'd said was true. I mean, I beat the crap out of him when we first met, and we've bickered a lot. I guess we've not argued for a good few days. And we've had sex. Oh the sex. I bit my lip as thoughts of us tangled in his sheets came to mind. Not just thoughts, but memories. Like I said to him this morning, we're just fuck buddies. Right?

*

Leaving the store with two large paper bags in one hand and my phone in the other, I first dialled Sam to find out where he was down this stretch of high street. When it went to voicemail, I hung up and dialled Deans number instead. It rang and rang, and when I thought his was going to ring through as well, he finally answered.

“Hey sweetheart, what's up?”

“Hey, I'm finished getting what I need. Whereabouts are you?”

“Uhhh…” I heard him turn to the shop assistant and ask for the name of the store he was in before he relayed it to me.

“Cool, I'll be there in two minutes. See you soon.”

“See ya.”

And with a click I hung up and tucked my phone into my back pocket and walked no more than two hundred yards to get to where he was still trying on boots. As I gingerly walked in, well aware it was a men's store and I was currently the only woman in here, Deans head snapped to the door when the arrival bell jingled.

“Hey sweetheart, you're just in time! I have no idea what to get.”

I couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the thought of the great Dean Winchester getting stumped by the more domesticated side of life.

“Well I'm here to help,” I placed my bags on the bench next to his discarded jacket. “What are the options?”

We must've spent half an hour going over the ones he'd shortlisted, then he chose an entirely different pair anyway, unrelated to the ones he'd picked out for himself.

Leaving the store and a quick phone call between the brothers, we all concluded that now was the best time to stop for lunch. Dean and I made a quick trip back to Baby to drop off our bags, with Dean opting to sport his brand new boots in favour of his old and decrepit ones. It was a short walk back to the high street now that we were bag free, and I could see Sam a mile off - his tall frame loitering outside the chosen diner, the occasional woman walking past throwing a few looks his way. He, of course, was oblivious to those looks, and when he spotted us as we neared he offered a wave. He sprouted a wide, friendly grin as we came to stand next to him.

“You guys get everything you need?”

“Yep! Took Cinderella a while to find the right boots but we got there in the end,” I flashed Dean a playful smirk as he tilted his head in slight annoyance at the nickname, which pulled a light hearted laugh from Sam.

“Oh yeah? Well, at least I didn’t spend twenty bucks on a thrifted Carhartt hoodie.”

“Hey that is durable shit, it’s worth every penny.”

“You could've had one of mine, I don't wear hoodies much anymore.”

“I somehow feel like there'd be a catch with that.”

“Uuhh, I got my jacket, if anyone cares?” Sam decided to interject, and we both turned to look at him.

“Good for you Sammy.”

“Yeah, nice one Sam,” I looked around for a second, not seeing any bags, “where is it?”

He gave me a funny look.

“What?”

“Seriously?” He asked, looking between Dean and myself. I looked at the older Winchester and seemed to have the same questions I did.

“Guys, I’m wearing it. Did you seriously not notice?”

I bit my lip.

“It looks exactly the same,” Dean spoke my own thoughts out loud.

“Well I mean technically it is. But it's not all scuffed up. Look you can clearly tell it's new,” he gestured with his hands that were still in his pockets, flapping the jacket around like he was an elongated flying squirrel.

“Not really.”

“Nope,” Dean popped the ‘p’ before he walked past both of us, “come on guys I'm starving, can we just go in?”

*

A simple lunch in the diner turned into beers in the bar which somehow turned into karaoke followed by shots. The place was bustling - all tables and booths occupied and a permanent flow of people ordering drinks. Most of the guys were of similar tastes, donning boots and leather jackets whilst the few women that were there pranced around in short-shorts and low cut tops. I for one felt a little out of place. The three of us were lucky to snag a booth, albeit close to the small stage situated up front, and I’d tucked myself into the corner, cradling my rum and coke. Dean had left his jacket beside me whilst he’d ventured off to challenge a group of guys to a ‘friendly’ game of pool, his laugh occasionally flowing over the chatter and music towards where Sam and I were sitting.

“How long do you think it’ll be until they realise they’re being conned?” I quizzed, taking a gulp from my glass and letting the bubbles fizz on my tongue before swallowing. Sam chuckled, taking a second before answering.

“Uhhh I don’t think these guys will find out until tomorrow morning.” We both laughed, knowing full well that Dean will spend all night gloating about how great he is, how we should bow in respect of the swindle master. I was lost in thought for a moment, wondering how much money he would actually walk away with when Sam’s voice pulled me back to reality.

“(Y/n), can I ask you something?”

I took another gulp of my drink, knowing full well what that puppy-dog look in Sam’s eyes meant, that furrow in his brow only accentuating it.

“Sure, go ahead.”

He took a breath.

“Are you ok? Like, really ok? Because if I’m honest, if I saw someone who I thought was dead - that I used to be in love with - stand before me after years of believing I’d never see them again; I don’t think I would be ok.”

I fiddled with the hem of Deans shirt sleeve for a second, my brain swarming with every thought I’ve been avoiding since the other night and keeping every little buzz under lock and key. I hated to admit it, but I was afraid to open Pandora’s box for the fear of ice cold confrontation. It wasn’t the wisest option, but putting the skeletons back in their closet and throwing out the key was what I genuinely thought was best. I let out an emotionally exhausted sigh before slumping back in my seat.

“I’m not ok. It still feels like some sort of fucked up fever dream, but… but thinking about it isn’t going to make me feel any better. Talking about someone who’s been dead to me for years isn’t going to take this messed up feeling away. In my mind, there’s nothing to get over where he’s concerned. Yeah, he was my teenage sweetheart, but I’m a grown woman now with a whole new brain and a whole new heart,” I could’ve kicked myself for letting my eyes flick over to Dean.

Sam sighed, resting his elbows on the table, a small smile twitching on his lips.

“If you’re sure, because you know I’m always here if you want to talk.”

“I know, thanks Sam,” I gave him a soft smile, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Although, just one thing…”

“What’s that?” He sat up straighter.

“I don’t think it’s Daniel as a person that has me feeling like this - I grieved him and moved on from him years ago. I think… I think it’s the thought of that soul crushing sorrow coming back that scares me the most. The kind of sorrow that makes you forget what day it is; that stops you from eating and going outside and taking care of yourself. It makes you lose friends and interest in hobbies. It makes the whole world look grey and lifeless. You feel so unbearably numb that you aren’t even sure why you’re alive anymore. It makes you want to die.”

“(Y/n)…” Sam seemed at a loss for any other words as he held my hand softly across the table, running his thumb gently over my knuckles. I took a deep breath before carrying on.

“I felt like that when I lost Daniel, but when I lost Bobby, I… I…” I felt my voice crack slightly, “when I lost Bobby it was so much worse, I genuinely never thought I’d be normal ever again. Luckily for me, Charlie found me,” I grinned, remembering her determination to piece me back together. I looked up from where our hands joined, meeting Sam’s gaze.

“The only way I’d go through any of that again would be if I was to lose you guys. I know it’s not been long, but for once I’ve found something that makes me want to get out of bed in the mornings. That shit is hard to find.”

We both took a moment, feeling the weight of my words as we shared a gaze. I knew from the way his brows drew together and that far away look in his eyes that he felt everything I’d said. He’d experienced it first hand. And he knew that he didn’t have to say much, if anything, to convey that he understood. Slowly pulling my hand out from under his and placing my palm over his knuckles, I gave a gentle squeeze before standing, letting him go and grasping my glass. I threw the last mouthful back, the liquid vigorously fizzing down my throat before warming my chest. As I swallowed, I held my glass up and raised an eyebrow at Sam.

“Well shit, would you look at that - my glass is empty. Guess I’m heading to the bar. You need a top up?”

“Yeah, please. Remind me to get the next round,” he grinned as I slid out the booth and headed towards the bar. As I waded through the crowd I passed the pool table, glancing over at Dean who was deeply engrossed in taking a player's hard earned money out of his grasp. I watched the smug grin spread over his lips as he counted then pocketed the cash.

I looked up to see an opening at the bar so I squeezed in, perching myself on a stale beer-scented barstool whilst I waited for the barman to notice me. After a couple of minutes of being served he placed the drinks before me and I paid on one of Deans ‘special’ credit cards, scooping all three glasses into my grasp - with an insane amount of skill - and turned to leave. The moment my ass left the seat cushion however I found myself toe-to-toe with a very tall and very rugged stranger, the smell of cigarettes and old leather wafting around him.

“Not seen you around these parts before doll; I know I’d recognise such a pretty face,” he had a grim smirk on his face and his voice was like sandpaper - rough but certainly not sexy. I tried to take a step back but only ended up seated back on the barstool.

“Just passing through,” I did my best to flash a polite smile in the hopes he would sense I didn’t want to have this conversation. No such luck.

“A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be in a place like this all alone. Things might…happen.”

A shudder ascended my spine into my neck and I tried my best to subtly shake it out before I gave into my more defensive side.

“Who the fuck do you think I am with this many drinks? They’re clearly not all mine… ergo, I have company.”

His gross grin widened, the subject of my statement clearly not settling correctly in the empty space between his ears.

“Getting feisty… I like it. Can’t get much better than a little thing with a mouth.”

I shuddered again.

“What part of ‘I have company’ do you not fucking understand? And even if I was alone, I definitely wouldn’t be going anywhere with you.”

His grimy smirk faltered slightly, finally absorbing some of my words that seemed to be floating in the air around his thick skull.

“Aw don’t be like that.”

“Oh I’m gonna ‘be like that’ until you leave me the fuck alone.”

He took a lumbering step forwards, pushing me further onto the barstool.

“See now there’s a point when a mouth on a pretty thing becomes down right obnoxious, and you’re nearing that point sweetheart.”

“Don’t you fucking ‘sweetheart’ me you dick,” I was mentally preparing to buy another round of drinks as the thought of throwing these three at this asshole was becoming sweeter by the second, and people were starting to watch on but there wasn’t a single white knight in sight.

“Well now you’ve just crossed that line,” the second I saw him start to raise his arms my instincts kicked in and I gave into my previous thought and doused him in liquor, the amber liquid running down his face and neck and soaking into his clothes. He looked down at himself in disbelief before lifting his head back up, this time baring his teeth and raising his hand as if to slap me. I reflexively raised my arms and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact.

“You stupid bitch.”

“If you touch a hair on her goddamn head ‘imma put you six feet under.”

My eyes shot open and I lowered my hands to see a seething Dean Winchester, a single strong hand wrapped around my harasser's wrist.

“Who the fuck are you?”

The faintest smirk pulled at the corner of Deans mouth before disappearing as quickly as it appeared, leaving nothing but quiet rage burning across his features.

“I’m about to be your biggest fucking problem.”

Before the asshole could even react Deans hand went from twelve O’clock to six O’clock in half a second with a sickening snap, breaking the jerks elbow with deadly skill. Practised skill. Whilst my harasser cried out and cradled his limp arm, Dean let go of him before a few of the onlookers gave Dean a nod of approval before escorting the creep out. Once he knew he was out of the building, Dean turned to me, softly grasping my chin between his thumb and index finger.

“Are you ok? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” He tilted my face left and right, scrutinising over my unharmed skin. When he was sure that there wasn’t a scratch on me he let go, relief flooding his gaze as he sighed.

“Dean I’m fine, I promise,” I reached up, fingers hesitantly grazing his stubbled cheek before I thought better of it and dropped my hand to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“I swear to God (Y/n), if he’d laid a finger on you he’d get a lot more than a busted elbow,” his hand came to rest on my bicep, his long fingers gently wrapping around my arm in subconscious comfort, almost pulling me towards him. My own hand seemed to slide down from his shoulder to rest softly on his chest, my fingertips feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath.

“I know,” I reassured, giving him a little smile to which he returned. I felt my soft smile turn mischievous as thoughts started conjuring in my mind.

“Come on, Sam is waiting for another drink, let's order and get back to the table.”

The bartender had seen Dean step in to help me, so luckily for us this round was on the house. As we slid into the booth opposite Sam I slid his drink over to him.

“What happened back there?” He asked, mildly concerned.

“Just some asshole thinking I was gonna leave this place with him,” I sighed, sitting down, Dean taking his seat beside me. Sam's eyes flicked between the two of us.

“I'm sure I saw him leave with his arm all out of shape, was that-”

“Yeah well, shrimp-dick had it coming,” Dean was doing his best to act nonchalant, however the moment our eyes met over the top of our drinks we couldn't stop the giggles from tumbling out.

“Guys, Dean, you can't go around breaking elbows-”

“Relax Sammy. No one's gonna say anything, they all saw him acting like a creep. Just didn't have the balls to step in. Anyway,” a darker look clouded his eyes as his gaze bore into his younger brother, “he was harassing our girl, Sam. Ain't no way in Hell I was gonna let that slide.”

There was a moment of thick silence before Sam nodded, finally agreeing with Deans actions, knowing that if it had come down to it, he might've done the same. I raised my glass to my lips, taking a long sip before placing it back on the table, looking between the boys as they continued to have some sort of silent conversation that I wasn't a part of. The mischievous thoughts from earlier kept bubbling in my mind, and it didn't take any self-convincing for me to act on them. I shuffled slightly closer to Dean, not enough to draw attention to myself but enough to be in touching distance. I glanced up at him, making sure he was totally unaware and focused on his drink before I reached out slowly, letting my soft fingertips glide over the rough denim of his jeans. I glanced up at him when I heard him inhale his drink, spluttering slightly as I squeezed the inside of his thigh. I traced the length of his inseam, watching his grip on his glass tighten, the tanned skin over his knuckles paling.

“You ok there?” I asked, feigning concern with a quirk of a brow.

“Oh I'm just peachy sweetheart,” his voice came out low, lower than I think he was expecting it to as his eyes nervously darted to Sam who was too busy opening his laptop to notice. Dean leant back on the bench, the worn leather creaking under his weight. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, pausing for a moment before lifting his arm closest to me, as though inviting me to sit closer. Eager to oblige I scooted towards him, nibbling my bottom lip when I felt his large hand rest softly on my back, subconsciously pulling me in. I crossed one leg over the other, turning into him slightly, tilting my head to get a better look at his face.

“I think I left something in the car, would you mind coming with me whilst I grab it?”

He looked a little puzzled for a moment before shotting the last of his whiskey and nodding his head.

“Sure thing,” he turned to his brother, “hey Sammy, we’ll be back in a few.”

Sam grunted a reply, too lost in the article he was reading to pay much attention to us. Dean slid out of the booth and held his hand out to me, which I grasped. His long rough fingers enveloped my hand as he pulled me to my feet. Leaving his jacket behind, we left the bar and made our way to the impala.

The night air had turned chilly, biting at my flushed cheeks as we paced across the lot, taking all of about thirty seconds to reach the impala. Dean was a few steps ahead of me, having unlocked the rear passenger door by the time I'd arrived.

“There you are, grab what you ne- whoa!”

He was caught off guard when I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him down into the car, his broad form filling the space in the back with ease. I climbed in after him, closing the door and crawling along the back bench towards him. It took a moment, but Dean eventually caught on.

“Oh, I’m liking where this is going.”

I chewed at my bottom lip, watching him settle beneath me as he propped up slightly on his elbows, the fabric of his T-shirt stretching thin over his muscular chest.

“I wanted to thank you for being my hero. That’s the second time you’ve rescued me - I wanted to thank you properly. You know, to really show my appreciation.”

It was Deans turn to pull his bottom lip between his teeth, the corners of his plush lips turning up.

“You know, I’m starting to think you might be trouble,” his voice was getting lower with every word, each syllable rumbling in his chest and vibrating into my fingertips.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, feeling some truth to them as I scooted down the bench to sit between his legs before slipping into the large footwell. I patted the seat in front of me, and it didn’t even take a second for Dean to slide himself into it, sitting up straight. As I sat between his knees and looked up at him, I couldn’t help but marvel at the sight; the way the streetlights painted his face in warm amber, softening his battle-hardened features and reflecting in his eyes like dancing embers from a stoked fire. The shadows didn’t seem contradictory - the darkness we were sitting in was far from cold. Dean Winchester was not an artistic man by any means, but he himself was certainly a masterpiece.

I reached up and unbuckled his belt along with the button on his jeans, carefully dragging the zipper down after and tugging the thick fabric along with his boxers off his hips; just enough to dip my hand in and pull out his cock, already hot and heavy in my palm. He made an almost strained noise on contact and my stomach fluttered at the thought of him being so sensitive. So sensitive at my mercy. I adjusted my grip on him before going up and down, once… twice… three times… over and over at a sinfully slow pace. His hands gripped his thighs like they had nowhere else to go, and when I looked up he was watching every move I was making with knotted brows and parted lips. His eyes only found mine when I straightened my back and leant forwards, gliding my tongue up the thick length of him but avoiding the tip. Mimicking my hand, I licked up and down again and again, ever so slowly gaining speed before I finally dragged my tongue over his tip and plunged his whole cock down my throat.

“Oh fuck,” Dean gasped out, his large palms flying to my hair - long fingers knotting with the soft strands. I could tell he wanted nothing more than to shove my head down as far as it would go, but his self restraint shone through. I started to move, slowly at first, head bobbing without missing a beat. The feeling of his cock pressing against the back of my throat over and over was fine at first, but the longer I sucked him off the urge to gag grew. The size of Deans cock was not something to be taken lightly, and after a couple of minutes the impending gag hit and I pulled him out of my mouth.

“Shit, (Y/n)… How are you so good at this?” He hissed out in a breath I’m sure he’d been holding since I'd started. I assumed the question was rhetorical as I gave him a few pumps, swallowing the excess spit and precum on my tongue before leaning back in. One by one I placed hot, wet kisses up his length, placing the final one on his tip before I pulled it back into my mouth. With the new found sensitivity of my gag reflex ever-present, I avoided taking him too far down my throat, this time using one hand to reach where my mouth couldn't at his base. Adding a little twist, I felt his grip tighten once again in my hair, his long fingers absently scooping loose strands away from my face. The combination of feeling him lose his mind beneath me and the tenderness of his touch sent a flutter to my heart which quickly travelled south at the sound of his euphoric groan, his head lolling back and eyes closing. As I pressed my tongue to the large vein scaling his length I could feel his rapid pulse, my own heart rate almost as fast as his. As I continued to bob my head, I could feel him gather all my hair in one hand, his other softy tracing down over my temple, my cheek and my lips before stopping at my chin, a single swipe from his thumb removing most if the spit and precum that was threatening to stream down my neck. I would consider my next move a grave mistake - looking up through my damp lashes to meet Deans white-hot gaze fixated and fascinated with every little motion I made. The blissed-out look in his eyes could have turned a weaker woman into a puddle right then and there, and I surprised myself with my own resilience. He continued to hold me with one hand in my hair and a soft grip on my chin, my own free hand moving to grip him near the inside of his thigh. Another soft moan slipped from his lips as I started to speed up, not caring for the ache in my jaw or mess he was now too preoccupied to swipe away. I was surprised when no words left Deans lips, his usual blasphemous language replaced with velvety moans of pleasure. I could tell he was nearing his peak when his cock twitched between my lips, again and again before before he finally groaned out a strained:

“Fuck, oh shit.”

His grip tightened, like he was trying to pull me off him, however when that telltale throb made his cock graze the back of my throat I removed my hand from his base and enveloped him in his entirety, a final, breathy gasp and groan tumbling from Deans lips before the sensation of warm, viscous liquid spilled across the back of my tongue. It took a moment for the ropes to stop coming, and when they did I pulled him from my mouth slowly, looking up at his breathless form. Not taking my eyes from his, I parted my lips slightly to show his cum, glazing my tongue, before closing my mouth and swallowing the thick liquid down. He let out another groan, his grip finally releasing my hair as he ran his hands over his face, taking a moment for his eyes to find mine again.

“Holy shit, sweetheart… I feel like I just died and went to heaven.”

I couldn't stop the stupid giggle spilling from my lips as I wiped the spit from my lips and chin with the bottom of Deans shirt that I was wearing.

“For a moment there I thought you had too.”

He grinned down at me, perhaps a little bashful as he tucked himself back into his pants and refastened his belt. As he finished up, a few moments of silence hung over us as I still remained nestled between his strong thighs. His eyes met mine and they seemed to hold a thousand words that he wanted to say, and when nothing came from his lips he simply held out his hand to pull me into his lap. Just as my fingers grazed his, however, there was a loud rap at the window which spooked both of us out of our skin.

“Motherfucker,” Dean muttered before rolling down the window, and a small wave of guilt and embarrassment washed over me when I heard Sam's disbelieving yet humoured voice coming from outside.

“Guys are you fucking serious?!”

——————————————————————

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hobby27 @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @feyresqueen @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world @uncle-eggy @happyt0exist @supernaturalstilinski @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[littledovesnow]

a snow wedding | young!corioulanus x fem!reader

a/n: you'll never guess who officiates their wedding lmao

word count: 1.8k (i could have gone on for like 10k honestly weddings are so fun to writ)

content warnings: ooc!coriolanus, coryo is nicer in my fics than the book/movie (more of the coriolanus at the start of the movie tbh), some hinting at bedroom festivites

You know,” you looked in the mirror at your maid of honor. “I always thought you and Coryo would be the two at the end of the aisle reciting vows.”

Clemensia choked on her mimosa, laughter bubbling over the glass. “The way he’s always looked at you? Absolutely no doubt in my mind you two would end up together.” She replied, setting the flute over and walking over to you.

You peered over at the pristine white gown hanging up, still just as beautiful as when you picked it out two months ago.

Coriolanus had proposed almost a year ago, wanting nothing more than to finally call you Mrs. Snow. “It would make me the happiest man in the Capitol, the country.”

You nodded furiously, watching as he slid the exquisite gold band adorned with a halo of small diamonds around a larger stone. It was a lavish ring, one you assumed he had ruminated over after securing a permanent position in the Citadel alongside Dr. Gaul.

A knock on the door broke up the conversation between the two women, Tigris popping her head into the makeshift bridal suite. “Just checking to see if you need anything before I go down to meet Grandma’am.”

“Tigris, this gown is to die for!” Clemensia praised the tailor, whose cheeks flushed like she had spent weeks in the sun.

“It’s just something I threw together.”

“Oh, don’t be modest, Tigris. It’s one of the most beautiful designs I’ve seen some out of your studio.” You smiled, pulling Tigris into the room more. “But I do have one thing you might have to help me with.”

“What might that be?”

You gestured to the gown, spinning to look at the two most important women in your life. “Can you ladies help me get into this dress? The corset looks like a game Coryo would make up in the Games.”

Clemensia laughed, and Tigris clapped enthusiastically, setting her purse on the pristine couch in the corner.

-----

Coriolanus messed with the cuff links he had purchased for the day exclusively, looking at the small photograph of his mother he kept in his wallet. It was new for him, carrying a wallet around.

He had only a few things in there, his Citadel ID card, a few hundred dollars­—pocket change for him nowadays—and the crumbled notebook paper he had written his vows on one day in the lab while Dr. Gaul met with President Ravenstill and Dean Highbottom.

They were messy, lines crossed out and words in the margins, and Coriolanus was fairly certain his sweaty palm had rubbed a few lines into illegible scribbles. He wouldn’t need them, though, he’s stared at this paper for weeks, the words engrained into his mind for the rest of his days.

He looked up when he heard a knock on his door, his best man stepping into the room.

“You just about ready?” Festus asked, looking around at the mostly bare room. “I think your grandmother is about ready to charge into the bridal suite and wed the two of you.”

If asked who he would think would be his best man at his wedding, Coriolanus Snow would never have said Festus Creed, but after the 10th Hunger Games and his short Peacekeeping stint, the two grew close, something akin to friendship.

“It was Grandma’am’s idea to have an evening ceremony.” Coriolanus muttered mostly to himself, but he tucked his wallet and vows back into his pocket, nodding at the curly-haired man.

“I am ready.”

-----

Delicately rubbing your sweaty palm on your dress, you peered through the small opening between two columns, trying to get a peek at your soon-to-be husband.

“Oh, you’ll see him soon enough!” Lysistrata Vickers smiled at you, bringing you into a hug.

You, Clemensia, and Lysistrata had all grown closer after your mentorship in the Games, going so far as to become friends and spend weekend trips in Districts One and Two on occasion.

“I haven’t seen him all weekend, Lyssie! He wouldn’t even tell me what color his suit is. All I know is that it complements his eyes, and I got that from Tigris!”

Clemensia and Lysistrata shared a knowing look, having seen Coriolanus’ tuxedo as they wished him a good morning in passing.

“He looks exquisite, I hope that makeup is waterproof because I know you’ll be a puddle as soon as you see him!”

Your grin nearly split your face in two, preparing to seal your fate as a Snow.

Clemensia took your hand and gave it a squeeze, stepping up to walk down the aisle with you since neither of your parents were able to.

Lysistrata marched down the split of chairs first, grinning ear-to-ear as she met up with her own husband, Festus downright devouring her with his eyes.

You took a deep breath as you turned around the corner, eyes dancing from one side of the room to the other.

You and Coriolanus wanted to have a smaller audience in person, with a majority of the Capitol and Districts tuning into the wedding live on TV.

Dr. Gaul, who you and Coriolanus had asked to officiate the wedding, had a positively radiant smile on her face, a rarity for the woman. But how could she not, her two star pupils were getting married today.

You finally locked eyes with your fiancé, you Coriolanus, your Coryo. Most would take the look on his face for a smirk, but you knew the man you were about to marry, you knew he was holding back a million-watt smile.

Before you knew it, you were at the end of the aisle, Clemensia squeezing your hand and taking the bouquet of red and white roses, giving you the chance to smooth the skirt of your gown.

“Hi.” You whispered, cheeks beginning to ache from your smile.

Coriolanus chuckled softly, taking both of your hands in his own, giving them a squeeze. “Hi, gorgeous.”

Dr. Gaul, who was perhaps the only one close enough to hear the small greetings, looked at you both to make sure it was okay for her to begin.

“Today, we are here to celebrate the union of two of Panem’s most important people, two people who I have gotten to know throughout their time at the Academy, University, and mentorship.”

The ceremony was shorter than some other weddings you had been to, with you and Coriolanus wanting to share vows in private, not wanting the nation to listen in, wanting to keep some things between the two of you.

Before you knew it, Dr. Gaul was announcing you two as the Snows, the crowd erupting into cheers as you and Coriolanus shared your first kiss as a married couple.

-----

With the ceremony over, you and Coriolanus had a short period of time before the reception, taking place in one of the grandest ballrooms in the Capitol. There would be more people at the reception than there were at the ceremony, with Coriolanus getting ready to run for election in the coming months, so you knew you had to be on your best behavior and help pull the votes in for your husband.

“What’re you thinking about, wife?” Coriolanus asked, lovesick smile on his face as he referred to you as his wife for the first time.

“Hmm?” You asked, shaking your head like an Etch-a-Sketch. “Nothing, just how lucky I am that you’re my husband.”

“Oh? I thought I was the lucky one.” Coriolanus replied, leaning in to kiss you in the back of the luxury car, which was taking you to the reception hall.

You couldn’t help the blush that tinted your cheeks. “Coryo,” you murmured, slipping off the bright red heels you had picked out to wear to the reception, Coriolanus grinning up at you from between your legs as you had brought the idea up one night a few weeks ago.

“How does it feel, to be a Snow?” Coriolanus asked, knowing glint in his eyes.

“Feels like I’m worth a million bucks.”

Coriolanus laughed, fixing his bowtie as the car pulled up to the entrance, groaning when he saw Lucky Flickerman and his parade of cameras.

You knew better than to say anything to the weatherman-turned-host, leaving it all up to Coriolanus, who greeted the cameras with a stiff smile and a “it feels wonderful, something I’ve always dreamt of” when asked how it felt being married.

Entering the reception, you and Coriolanus were greeted with cheers, clapping, and a few wolf whistles.

You two did first rounds greeting the more important people in the room, people you two had known since you were both children.

Tigris squealed so loud you and Coriolanus both winced at the pitch, but laughed as she clapped and hugged you two. “Officially part of the family! I’ve always wanted a sister!”

“Tigris, we aren’t even siblings.” Coriolanus chuckled, hand around your waist and thumb rubbing back and forth soothingly.

You lightly slapped the man’s chest. “Oh, hush. She’s been a sister to me since we first started dating.”

Tigris took your hand, admiring the new addition to your left ring finger. Next to the engagement ring now sat a white gold wedding band, matching the one that now adorned Coriolanus’ left hand.

You promised to have a girl’s night with Tigris as Coriolanus dragged you away, knowing you two would be talking all night if he didn’t break up the conversation while there was a lull.

The two of you ended up in front of Casca Highbottom, who was unusually well-groomed, beard tame and hair gelled. “Well, I guess you can thank me for this.”

“Pardon?” You asked, feeling Coriolanus tense at the elder’s words.

“If it wasn’t for my thinking of the Hunger Games, you two would never have spoken a word to each other.”

Coriolanus did nothing more than give a short smile to the man, thanking him for his wedding gift before you two left him to his morphling and posca.

“Why did you invite him, Coryo?” You asked, finally being able to sit for a moment.

“It would have looked bad to not have my father’s best friend here. The man technically did is the reason we’re where we are now.”

You shrugged, agreeing with Coriolanus. “Come on, I want some cake.”

Coriolanus laughed, following you towards the four-tiered red-velvet cake.

------

Collapsing onto the bed, you sighed contently as you toed off the red heels you had been dancing in all night.

“What do you think, shall we spend our first night married as we did the last night as an unmarried couple?” Coriolanus asked, already shedding his clothing.

“Oh, I like the way you think.” You smiled, sitting up. “But you have to help me undo this corset before anything.”

a/n: maybe some good angst next? what do you think my little snakes my little rainbow fiends

[h8ani]

Part One → Part Two → Part Three → Part Four

Pairing: Sasuke Uchiha x Reader

Anime: Naruto

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: smut, angst, a pinch of fluff if you squint, slight dubcon but not really, oral for 2.5 seconds (f! receiving), face fucking, doggy, riding, power bottom, unprotected sex

A/N - hello everyone! Sorry this part took so long, I’m already planning on making a part 3 tbh 💀 pls let me know what you guys think on this!

Sasuke leaving was never the issue, he himself was the issue and what mortal sin you committed by allowing what you two did happen. You would've felt better committing treason towards the leaf than what you have done.

The days that followed after he left you felt the five stages of grief and no one even died. A part of you did but you're just being dramatic if you're being honest.

Still.

It was something you were in denial about. You hated him, you still hate him. You hate that you slept with him but a part of you keeps rewinding and thinking back of what happened. How he pushed you into the wall, how he brought you not one but two orgasms and above all else, you keep thinking back on everything he said to you and how it made you putty in his hands.

When he left while you showered you couldn't have been more than a little grateful, you don't think that you'd want to look him in the eyes after everything that transpired, especially since that fucker came inside you, you have never let anyone ever do that, not even an ex boyfriend. The trip to the store when purchasing a pregnancy test couldn't have gone worse with the fact you ran into some of your friends and they immediately sent a hundred questions your way as to why you were in that specific aisle. Fuck Sasuke for that. Fuck him for everything.

It's been about three months since you last saw him, though a little part of you feels like you made all of this up because no way in hell this actually happened but sadly it has and the only way you've been able to keep him mostly out of your mind is going on mission after mission. Out of sight, out of mind, because if you're too busy focusing on missions then there's no way in hell that boy will be on your mind. Sasuke Uchiha will always be the boy you hate, you hate his stupid face, his stupid attitude, the stupid way he stormed right into your apartment acting like he owned the place.

You shake your head ridding those thoughts from your head while walking back into your apartment, the mission you just got back from tired you out more than it should have and all you wanted to do was shower and fall asleep in your bed you missed oh so much. Your fresh clean non Sasuke contaminated sheets.

You open your bedroom door and immediately start to discard your clothes and tossing them anywhere they'd land in your room. Your top goes left, your bra goes right, you struggle to walk and take your socks off and seemingly slip and nearly crash into the bathroom door before you stop yourself and let out a long sigh. You make your way into the bathroom and start your shower without even noticing the presence of someone on your bed.

From his eyes being accustomed to the darkness in your room Sasuke was able to see you decently, he saw how tired you looked, the bags under your eyes were dark as you didn't bother covering them up with makeup like most girls he knew, your hair was falling out of the ponytail you had in and the way you walked with heavy footsteps and the fact you almost tripped and fell without even noticing him just proves you're exhausted.

He scoffs at hearing your shower start and hearing you hum to whatever song was playing in your head. Some kunoichi you were, he thought as he relaxes back into your bed. He couldn't believe how irresponsible you were and you were supposed to be the best of the best from your shared class, granted that was years ago but you were supposed to be better than the others, you weren't meant to have your guard down and Sasuke knew that, regardless if you were in your own village and the comfort of your own apartment, you should be better. He rolls his eyes at his own thoughts and his attention soon goes to the shower being turned off and a completely obnoxious and unnecessary yawn that comes from inside of it.

The bathroom door opens and there you were flicking the lights on, bathroom towel wrapped around you. Your eyes still didn't register someone was in your room until Sasuke sits up to look at you, the movement from your bed causing you to let out a scream only meant for if you were being murdered, which you were not. The scowl on Sasukes face deepening even more as his ears start to ring. "How fucking loud can you be?" You blink a few times to register that it's him and not just you thinking about him once you didn't have anything to distract your mind with anymore. He looks irritated as if he wasn't an unwanted guest in your apartment. "Do you want people to know I'm here?"

"Why are you here?...again." You glare at him with what little energy you have left and tighten your grip on your towel. Your hair was still a little wet and you'd rather not have him see you naked again.

"Don't act all modest now, I saw you strip and basically fall face first in the door when you got here. Seriously, I could've been an intruder."

"You are an intruder." You quickly reply and he actually chuckles, he fucking chuckles at that. You huff out a sigh and walk to your dresser across the way from your bed and grab the first pair of pajamas you find and head back to the bathroom to change.

"Oh you embarrassed if I see you naked now?" He smiles to himself but gets no response from you. He gives you all of five seconds because apparently you should've magically been dressed to his standards by now, he's up and off the bed and heading to the bathroom to open the door. The handle turns and before it's open enough to walk in you slam it shut right in his face.

"Hey pervert! Ever heard of knocking?"

"You're calling me a pervert like you weren't cumming on my-" The door swings open and he's met with your glare, your face felt warm at his words coming out.

"Shut up, why are you here Sasuke?" He chuckles and looks down at you, his eyes scanning your body and your matching pajamas.

"Cute." He thinks to himself and finally looks back up to you. "So speaking of cumming," he pauses, you raise a brow at him waiting for him to continue. "I was just checking if you were pregnant or not, didn't know if you were on the pill or whatever."

"Shouldn't you be more aware of that beforehand?" He just shrugs and looks away. "God you're an ass."

"And you're a bitch." He quips back, not thinking a second after he says that you swing your arm back ready to slap him, your hand inches away from his face but he quickly catches it yanking you towards him. "Nice try, I was always quicker than you remember."

"You can leave." You glare at him while pulling your hand out of his grasp and go back towards your bed plopping down allowing your body to feel the comfort of your blankets. Your eyes close momentarily and you sigh contently.

Knock, Knock, Knock

Your eyes shoot open and you frown, no one ever comes to your place without usually asking. Sure you have your neighbors where their kids are usually loud and the parents come to apologize for the nuisance but you haven't heard them since you got home.

Knock, Knock, Knock

You groan and kick your feet out flinging your limbs all around and sit up. "Can a girl sleep for once..." you grumble and sit up.

"I know you're not about to answer that." Sasuke voices and you look annoyed.

"Clearly someone wants to talk to me so I'm going to answer it." You make your way thru your bedroom and Sasuke is right behind you grabbing your arm and pulling you back.

"What if it's your annoying ass friends? Or Anbu? Or anyone fucking else? Don't answer the damn door." His words are quick and hushed while you're just staring up at him even more annoyed.

"Can you-"

"No."

"Sasuke."

"Can you just listen to me?" He gives you a look as if to say 'Are you fucking dumb' and you just shake your head.

Knock, Knock, Knock

"Just let me answer it, it's not like anyone's going to come in so just stay in my room and close the door." His grip on your arm tightens, his eyes squint as he contemplates and he nudges you towards the door, retreating back to your room.

"Just make it quick." Your bedroom door shuts and you let out a sigh. The dramatics of him is unbelievable.

You open your front door to see your downstairs neighbor, she's a small elderly woman who lives alone with her two cats, you recall when you've helped her catch her cats a few times when they've escaped. Once you're in frame and she sees you in your pajamas she couldn't help but smile. "Hi dear, I heard you scream and wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Scream? Oh! Yeah..." You scratch the back of your head and smile, there was a big bug and it flew on me, sorry Miss Nohoya." You sheepishly smile at the old woman. "I know it's late I'm sorry to have woken you."

"Oh no worries! Just didn't know if I had to serve as backup for a young shinobi!" Your face falls once you see the bat she had in her hand.

"Miss Nohoya!" You laugh and take the bat. "Where's your cane? Let me help you back to your apartment you shouldn't be walking down these stairs."

                                        ~~~

When you got back inside your apartment you knew Sasuke was gone before even getting back to your bedroom. Call it intuition or call it being around him for more than your liking but you could just tell.

Once you got back to your room your window was open and like you had assumed, Sasuke was no longer here.

The weeks that followed were nothing short of boring, more missions, more nights where you were even more tired than the previous. It became repetitious in the worst way possible. The only thing that seemed to break the cycle of your nights repeating itself was hearing the light tapping of a knock on your door and the handle turning. Unlucky for you, you didn't lock your door.

The door swung open and slammed shut and as you walked out of your bedroom an angry looking Sasuke (let's be honest he always looked angry) was pulling you back in. His eyebrows were furrowed and his grip on your wrist tugging you back in was harsh. "You need to start locking your door, don't be an idiot."

"Awe do you care what- OW!" His grip tightens and it sends a sharp pain up your arm. "Look Sasuke I'm not in the mood for-"

"Then get in the mood." Your cheeks warm up at his words and the tone he used behind them. The look on his face was nothing more than a scowl, his hand quickly went up to your shoulder to push you down on your knees while his other hand quickly removed his belt letting it fall down to the floor.

You hate to admit this, but the sound of his belt being undone in such a motion and the amount of pressure he used to push you down sent a chill down your spine, though you would never admit that to anyone.

You look up at his and see he's already looking down at you, his eyes staring at you so intently you glare up at him hoping it'd make him stop. The way he's looking at you, the way you're still on your knees for him, you hate it.

"I hate-"

"You hate me. Yeah I get it, open up." His hand smacks your cheek lightly twice as if his command wasn't enough. Your glare becomes harsher and his hand is quick to hold your chin tilting your head back to look at him more. "I said open." His thumb swipes over your bottom lip slowly pushing into your mouth.

You don't know what comes over you but you suck on the digit that's in your mouth, a deep chuckle comes from up above you and your focus is back on him, he slowly crouches down in front of you, a smirk prominent on his face. "Look at you. You'd listen to anything I'd tell you wouldn't you?" Your brows furrow and push his finger out of your mouth.

"Shut up."

"Then open your mouth and suck my dick." He leans in and captures your lips in a kiss before you can say any smartass comeback. His hand slowly stroking his cock while you lean into the kiss wanting more. "Be good." He breaks the kiss and leaves wet kisses down your neck. "And I'll fuck you after, you want to cum don't you?"

He doesn't give you more than a moment to respond, the feeling of his lips on your neck making you feel fuzzy inside and clouding your mind.

He's standing up and pushing the tip past your lips. You slowly roll your tongue over the tip, not going any further and taking your time. If Sasuke wanted you to suck him off then you're doing it how you wanted to regardless of his wants.

Or so you thought.

You hear that deep ass chuckle of his and his hand reaches out tangling itself with your hair and stays there holding your head in place. He rolls his hips slowly as the tip hits the back of your throat causing you to pull back from his cock but his hands keeping you in place. "Didn't I say for you to be good?" He pushes your head back down on him, guiding your head up and down on him. You relax your jaw allowing you to take in more of him as you keep a steady pace.

Sasuke doesn't take too long before he starts pushing your head deeper and deeper receiving the sound of you choking on him. "Breathe thru your nose." He instructs you and tightens his grip on your hair and picking up the pace.

The only sounds in your room that could be heard was the wet noises your throat makes while he begins to face fuck you. You screw your eyes shut as your throat is used for him, focusing on your breathing was harder than you thought. Tears prick your eyes and slowly fall down your cheeks.

He used your hair to pull you off of his dick allowing you to gasp for air before pushing you back all the way down. Your nose reaching his pelvis and throat constricting around him you hear Sasuke let out a groan and his pace quickens again. His thrusts into your mouth were getting sloppy the quicker he was. "God- You're so pretty like this, my cock in your mouth. Look at me while I cum down your throat."

You look up through tear filled lashes and blink up allowing more to fall down your cheeks. His eyebrows were knit together and the staple look of frustration was all over his face. "Yeah keep looking up at me like that, you're doing s-so good."

His pleasure peaked and he shoved your head back down and came down your throat, "Swallow it." He demands and you listen, swallowing everything he has. You pull off breathing deeply and wiping your eyes and face.

"Strip." Sasuke voices down to you. Your mind still hazy from the lack of oxygen you blink up at him with tears still in your eyes.

In a blur of haziness your clothes are discarded along with his and you're pushed face down into your mattress and ass up. A loud slap rings in your ears bringing you more clarity, you let out a small laugh. "Somebody is in a hurry- ah!" You gasp out feeling his fingers press up on your clit letting the words die on your tongue.

"You're so wet." His fingers move quicker making you whimper. "Did you like getting your face fucked by me that much?" His face dips down to lap up the wetness, hands gripping your thighs to spread you wider for him.

Sasuke begins at a fast pace, licking and sucking your clit quickly bringing you to your high, you grip the sheets under you as the coil is about to snap but slowly gets unwound again as he pulls away from you.

"What. The. Fuck." You look back at him, he smiles at your flushed cheeks, the pout on your lips and yet the scowl on your face still prevalent.

"You want my dick that badly huh? Wanna beg for it?" Sasuke sits up and pulls your hips back.

"Oh fuck you."

All you hear is his deep ass laugh behind you before you feel him push in with one thrust. He bottoms out immediately and you feel the stretch of him.

It's been a few months since the last time you and Sasuke fucked so you still weren't acclimated to his length and girth. With that being said he doesn't give you any time to get adjusted as his hips pull back and snap into you at such a brutal pace, but even with his harsh thrusts you let out a loud moan, his dick hitting you deeper than before.

Your pussy tightens around him and sucks him in with every thrust he gives you. He slaps your ass making you whine into the mattress.

"Fuck." He grunts, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you back into him when he thrusts up into your pussy. "Who's fucking pussy is this? Tell me or I'll stop." You whine loudly in response, pussy tightening around him. He slaps your ass harder this time grunting as he becomes rougher with his thrusts. "You want me to stop then? Princess doesn't want me to keep fucking her?"

"N-No! Don't stop, please don't stop- ah fuck." You press your head further into the mattress muffling your moans. "Close..." you mumble but Sasuke could make out what you said. He thrusted a few more times, allowing you to get closer and closer before pulling out.

Your eyes shoot open and the sound you let out could be described between a whine and a scoff. You look back at him, tears slightly welling in your eyes can be seen by him. "Come here." Sasuke smirks at you while laying back against your pillows, his hands pulling you on top of him. "Ride me." You hastily straddle him and position yourself before slowly sinking down on him.

You were beyond frustrated, he could see that, hell he knew that after cutting your orgasm short twice but Sasuke couldn't make anything easy for you.

He was here to let his frustrations out on you, came here only to fuck you and leave like last time but as time goes on and seeing you want him, no. Seeing you need him, you needed him to fuck you, needed him to bring your pleasure to the hilt and then push you over even more. Sasuke wanted to stay to see how frustrated you really could get, you got needy the more you were pushed away from your orgasm and he couldn't help but love to see you like this.

For someone he couldn't stand he sure loved watching you writhe when he shoved his cock in you.

You set a good pace for yourself, slowly bouncing up and down on his cock while feeling him even deeper. You let your eyes flutter shut as you pick up your pace, hands finding place on his chest.

"Look at me." Sasuke spoke low and husky. The heat on your cheeks radiating off of you from his words. You keep your eyes shut and shake your head slightly. "(Y/N)." You felt his hands dig into your hips pulling you up and back down on his cock harshly snapping his hips into you. Your eyes open as a gasp slips past your lips. "I said look at me."

Your eyes focus on him, the way he has a smirk on his lips but seeing his eyes scanning your face. He looks at you with arrogance all over his face but his eyes slightly soften at you. You looked cute like this, nervous to make eye contact with him, fucked out of your mind just chasing the high you want so badly.

He wraps his arm around your waist pulling you against his chest as he thrusts up into you, his hips snapping into you pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

It's not long before you're a moaning mess on top of him, your moans soft yet high in his ears, your clit rubbing against him giving you that little push before your orgasm washes over you.

Your body spasms on top of him, hands gripping his shoulders as nails digging into him leaving crescent shaped prints into him. Even tho you were on top Sasuke was never one to give you the power. He dug his heels into your mattress fucking up into you faster chasing his own orgasm. You still coming down from yours, you whine and squirm feeling overly sensitive.

He gives one last thrust into you letting out a low groan as he came. You melt like putty against him breathing heavy, eyes feeling heavy as they slowly close.

Sasuke was breathing just as hard, the grip around your waist loosening as his hand finds place at your lower back, after a moment he slowly began to rub the smooth skin up and down. Your heartbeat was beating hard against your chest, he chuckled hearing it beat so rapidly.

Your eyes slowly opened coming back to reality. You stayed on his chest, hand slowly mimicking his own hand movement and rub his arm. "So..." you start and take a moment. "What was all that about? You came in angrier than usual."

He takes a moment to think of what to say. Could he get away with saying he needed a stress reliever or would you be offended by that? He wasn't going to say he missed you, although he's already wanting to plan out his next visit into your home after tonight. "Bad day." He decides on. A short silence fills the room before he feels you sit up to look at him.

He looks at you blankly, no signature scowl on his face nor the cocky smile he likes to shoot at you. He just had a neutral look on him as he looked at you. His hand still moving along your back, nails lightly scratching your back giving you a comfortable feeling with him.

You let out a light sigh and focus on your fingers twiddling around. "I'll be gone on a mission for about a month in a few days." Sasuke's eyebrows raise but you continue on, "Just in case you have any more bad days."

"Or you." He quickly adds, your lips slowly form a smile as you look at him.

"I'm sure I'll have some bad days too."

It was an unspoken agreement you two had, neither one of you feeling the need to explain in further detail. Although your feelings for him very much stay the same, when either of you have the feeling of need for the other, to satisfy that itch you both need to scratch you two would be happy to help.

You couldn't say this was a friends with benefits situation as neither of you would call the other a friend, but you wouldn't want to hate anyone else if this wasn't the outcome it came with.

Hating Sasuke Uchiha was the best decision you've made.

[honeykyeom]

white noise / track 3: ghosts (teaser)

pairing: lee seokmin x afab! reader

series summary: your best friend seokmin has always been there for you. after a particularly rough heartbreak, you find out he's there for you in more ways than just one.

series notes: uni!au, best friends to lovers, friends with benefits, kpop 97 line antics and shenanigans (specifically seventeen & loona), 18+ (smut is outlined/warned beforehand)

teaser notes: suggestive kinda but no smut, seokmin is a SIMP, two idiots being idiots tbh and there's absolutely no way this could go wrong!!

teaser wc: ~900 words

a/n: heeey...... hey... how ya'll doin? yeah i never thought i would be far enough into writing that i could ACTUALLY post a teaser for the next track.. shoutout to my accountability buddy @smileysuh, ur the best babe. wouldn't want anyone else to cheer for my maybe 800 words a day lol. also congrats to @bitchlessdino my bb i can't wait to see you walk down the aisle so take this lil treat as a token of my love ♡ also pspspspsps @onlyseokmins (love u wife)

If you had told Seokmin that he would be in the position that he’s currently in, he’d think you’re full of shit.

But here he was, sinking into your sectional as you grind on his lap and making his head spin with the ease in which you pull at his roots. Seokmin keeps telling himself it’s a fantasy, one of his many recurring dreams where he’s finally with you, the person he’s been in love with for the past two years. He repeats it like a mantra, to will himself it’s all in his head until it’s something he can no longer deny when a moan leaves your lips, sounding more ethereal than any dream he’s ever had.

Seokmin’s lips slot between yours perfectly, his tongue gracing your bottom lip. Your mewls ring like bells in his ears, sweet and inviting–he can’t help but smile into your kiss. He’s determined to continue hearing your noises, his nerves firing against every logical thought in his brain.

The kitchen counter of your humble apartment is littered with chips, stray alcohol & red solo cups. Neither of you pay it any mind though, too preoccupied with the present moment as Seokmin’s hands graze your lower back and you straddle his hips, your bodies sinking further into the soft fabric of your sectional. 

Seokmin’s lips chase yours when you pull away from him, not wanting to lose your warmth. He’s completely dazed as you view him from above, eyes glazed over in lust and desire. You giggle, bringing your hand to his chin and supporting his head to keep his eyes on you. 

“Are you still with me, baby?” 

He blacks out at the pet name–his brain short-circuiting at the way your breath warms his skin as you speak, only getting enough energy to respond with a soft yes as Seokmin watches you smile at him.

It’s baffling how you have him under your spell and you’re oblivious to that fact. 

Seokmin slowly comes down from his high of the past 20 minutes–registering the words that you’re speaking to him.

“We need to talk.”

“About?”

“This…” you take a pause, your thumb caressing the soft skin of his chin as you focus on the oceans of brown in Seokmin’s eyes before you continue. “Us.”

Seokmin quickly sobers up, his hands removing themselves from your waist but laying purchase on your thighs. He tries his hardest to keep his composure–you’ve always been able to read him like a book, better than anyone else in his life. You were able to capture every tell with ease, down to a small eye twitch or throat itch. Knowing this, he finds it hard to believe you’re unaware of his feelings for you–the immediate red shade of his ears appearing when he’s in your presence.

‘Breathe’, he tells himself. He does just that before focusing back to the present moment, with you, instead of stuck in his own thoughts.

“Okay. What about us?”

“We need to establish some ground rules.” You take a quick pause, brief, but enough for Seokmin to notice the small drop of sweat growing on the tip of your eyebrow. “Just so we’re on the same page.”

“Ok then. Rule number 1?”

“This stays between us. Can’t tell the rest of the group.”

“Ok… Seems fair enough.. Rule 2?”

“No unusual PDA.”

Seokmin retorts with a small pout, “So I can’t hold your hand in public anymore?”

You bring a soft smile to your face, slightly giggling at the sincerity in his tone. Running your hand through his hair, you respond, “No, that’s not what I meant! We just don’t want to give ourselves away. So, hand holding between friends is okay.” Leaning closer into Seokmin, he’s suddenly falling into the swirls of color in your eyes and into a trance when your voice gets quieter as you speak. “But kissing,” you punctuate your statement by connecting your lips to his. Seokmin has to swallow a moan as he gets lost in you, pulling you closer and molding your body to his. His hands come to grasp at each side of your face, gentle yet desperate to keep you two moving in unison. 

His efforts were futile, though, as you pull away from him with a smirk, leaving him with the inability to catch his breath. “Isn’t allowed.”

Seokmin is only left able to stare at you, his hands feeling clammy as they still rest on your cheeks. His thumb brushes across your face, his own body heat making your skin hot to the touch. All he can do is chuckle, shaking his head at the predicament he’s found himself in before he’s looking back at you. “Okay. Fine. Is that it?”

“One last rule. No seeing other people without us talking about it first.”

‘Easy,’ Seokmin thinks, but he still has to play it cool.

Raising his eyebrows, a playful tone enters his voice as Seokmin asks, “So, we’re exclusive fuck buddies now?”

You roll your eyes. “Not exactly. It’s more of a safety thing, you know?”

“Yeah, I’ll pretend that you aren’t just keeping your jealousy in check.”

“Do we have a deal or not, Lee?”

You present your pinky finger in between you, a lighthearted ritual that holds the weight of the future of your relationship with Seokmin. It seems too lax for such a situation, but he knows this is as important to you as it is to him with the small appendage in front of him.

“Fine. Deal.”

hehe <3

[astridthevalkyrie]

your match is made | xavier x reader

“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.” “Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—” “I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.” “Stop,” you whisper. But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”

cw: fluff, like that's it that's literally it this is so fluffy

word count: 6.6k

a/n: lyric credits used in this fic: téir abhaile riú by celtic woman <- fire song btw, listen to bless your ears, it also sets the vibe of this fic very nicely tbh. jeremiah's my favorite boyfailure.

Lanterns hang from every available line in and around the town square, brightening any block lucky enough to fall under its horizon. In every corner and roadblock, there are carts littering the streets, dozens upon dozens of merchants calling out their best prices on their finest goods, all the way from fabrics stitched by the very same threads used for the royals’ robes, to common sweet chocolates that all the teenagers are purchasing in bulk to share with their friends and younger siblings. There is room to move around, but there is not a single area that is not bustling with people, either trying to purchase steamed corn from the stalls or simply enjoying the festivities with their families. And in the center of it all, the bards play with such finesse that their fingers may as well be the source of the music rather than the instruments. 

Such is the celebration of lights, a celebration of the light. Of Philos, of this miracle that humanity has been gifted with. Every year without fail, the people gather in the town square to commemorate this historic occasion, and every year without fail, it is the grandest jamboree you have ever bore witness to.

“C’mon, Xavier,” Jeremiah protests out loud, “what would be the point of having the crown prince with us if he refuses to pay for our meals?”

Xavier simply shakes his head, the serene smile never leaving his face as he denies Jeremiah for the third time tonight—he clearly derives great pleasure from doing it. “I’d hate to rob you of the chance to participate in Philos’ market tonight of all nights.”

Jeremiah groans at his right, and from Xavier’s left, you giggle. It’s the same routine every single year, and at every occasion to be honest, and yet Jeremiah never stops trying to emphasize the difference in his wealth versus the royal family’s. Xavier, who you think would give his last dime to an ant if it looked hungry enough, looks like he loves refusing Jeremiah more than participating in any one of the activities tonight. 

The spicy aroma of rice cakes fills your senses then, and you let out a longing sigh as you look to the stall decorated with steaming bowls on all sides. “I’m starting to get hungry too, now.”

Both of them follow your gaze, where the vendor is hurriedly turning this way and that to discuss prices and accept payments, while three of his chefs work in the back, delivering more as the demand increases. Xavier hums quietly, then takes out a small black pouch from his pocket.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to eat.” He holds out the bag for you to take, but before you can, Jeremiah scoffs, loudly.

“Oh, that’s sick.” He points an accusing finger at the prince. “That’s sick! If you keep playing favorites, you’re going to get betrayed when you take the throne, I hope you know. I swear I’m going to lead a revolution against you myself.”

“Do you really think my grandis knight would ever let you harm me?” Xavier shoots back, and you beam as Jeremiah rolls his eyes, snatching the pouch straight out of his fingers.

“I’ll take this, and I’m going to get two”—he holds up two fingers for emphasis—”two bowls, and I’m not sharing. Your grandis knight can split her portion with you.” With that, he stomps off in a huff, leaving Xavier with his head tilted and a confused expression on his face.

“I don’t understand. There should be enough coins for three bowls.”

“He’ll get you a bowl.” You raise your voice enough for Jeremiah to hear as he walks. “He’s very grateful that you offered your money, isn’t that right, Jermy?”

Jeremiah makes a rude gesture without even turning back to face you, and you laugh, grabbing Xavier’s wrist to follow him. If it were any other member of the royal family, they’d be getting swarmed right about now, and would likely require at least ten guards to stand around them at all times to ward people off. That is how the king and queen sit, a few blocks away from the main festival, up on a platform elevated high enough that no one could think to climb it, with Lightseekers both in front of them and on the ground, safe and observing the celebration from a distance. Philos’ crown prince is different. Xavier is out in the town with the common folk so frequently that he’s almost lost all the celebrity status his title comes with. Of course, that makes him popular in an entirely different way. The people in the market always seem happy that someone of such high status would lower himself enough to walk and talk amongst them.

His hand slips lower as the two of you go after Jeremiah, warm fingers intertwining with yours. You think little of it, reckoning he doesn’t want to get separated with so many people around. Xavier isn’t one to shy away from touch, at any rate. Once you spar with someone enough, it’s only natural to become physically comfortable with one another. He places his hands on your shoulders when he wants to guide you somewhere, bandages your cuts with his own calloused palms, presses his lips to your forehead to check whether you’re sick or not. In the face of all that, him holding your hand while running through a bustling crowd is hardly surprising.

Jeremiah is waving the pouch in the air hopelessly, trying to be noticed amongst the rest, when the vendor spots the two of you. “Xavier!” he calls happily. “Good timing, I have a fresh bowl ready just for you!”

“Unbelievable,” your chestnut-haired friend mutters under his breath, elbowing you as you laugh at his misfortune. Xavier steps closer, and you see him hold up two fingers to ask for more. When he points over, you wave to the vendor, who waves back before calling out instructions over his shoulder. In almost an instant, he has three steaming bowls filled with rice cakes ready for you to take. Your mouth almost waters at the sight. 

Xavier picks up one of them to offer to you, which you take gratefully. Taking a few steps to the side to avoid crashing into anyone, the three of you find a relatively less crowded place to dig in. 

Before you can take a heaping sip from the spoon, he gently takes your wrist and blows on the hot broth, meeting your eyes with a soft, concerned look. “Be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” you remind him teasingly, but blow some air of your own onto the spoon before finally digging in. As the flavors explode inside your palate, you hold back a moan at how good it tastes.

“Miss Knight!” a high-pitched voice calls out, and you turn in time to see a tiny pink blur moving past people’s legs. 

“Adelaide!” You hand your bowl to Jeremiah, who passes it to Xavier without even blinking, and kneel down to catch the blur in your arms. “Look at you, you look so pretty! I love your dress!”

The little girl’s eyes light up at the compliment. “Thank you! Miss Knight,” she bounces up and down eagerly, “I made something for you!” In her hands, she holds out a product of one of the several craft stalls set up for the children during the festival, a simple but elegant flower crown that she holds out like a grand prize. And from how your heart melts, it may as well be. 

“Oh, how beautiful. Thank you so much. Would you put it on for me?” You tilt your head down, and she places it on with all the care a child of six years would have. You know you’ll have a difficult time getting it out in a while after the flowers tangle with your hair, but you don’t mind at all. Adelaide is your favorite person to visit whenever the three of you come to town, the daughter of the seamstress who makes your uniforms, and you’d do anything to see her smile the way she is now.

“You look like a princess,” she says in awe. Your cheeks warm, and you stand up, gesturing to the other two.

“Speaking of which, you remember Xavier and Jeremiah, don’t you?”

Her small hands grip your dress robes as she hides behind your legs, peeking out at them. Xavier, with both his hands occupied holding your bowl and his own, merely smiles encouragingly at her, while Jeremiah waves. “Hiya, Adelaide. Your dress looks awesome!”

From the corner of your eye, you see her face turn bright red, and right as you’re about to coo inwardly about her adorable little crush, you hear someone calling her name. All your heads turn, as an older blonde boy, out of breath, almost pushes past people in his rush to run to her. 

“I told you not to run off like that! You could get lost—oh.” He stops short when he sees you, blinking as the color returns to his cheeks after his run. “H-hi there.”

“Hi, Neville.” You smile at Adelaide’s older brother, who’s almost always around when you visit. “Enjoying the celebration?”

“Definitely—I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you, I was helping Mother with her stall, a-and I didn’t know your master would give you the night off.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. And the grandis knight is at the king’s side, he could hardly stay to train me on such an important night.”

“Right.” He stands with his hands on Adelaide’s shoulders, only staring, seemingly forgetting why he’s there in the first place. For a few moments, no words are said at all.

Right when you’re about to cough awkwardly, he snaps back to attention. “Um, would you like to dance?”

“She can’t,” Xavier says immediately, almost making you jump. He’s almost right behind you, looming over your shoulder and staring Neville straight in the eyes with an expression you’ve never seen on him before. 

“Xavier!” The blonde bows clumsily (and unnecessarily) before straightening up, an unspoken question in his eyes. He looks between you and Xavier, and while you hadn’t been planning to agree to his request in the first place, you look at Xavier curiously as well. He’s never before dictated what you do during the celebration, whether you’re with him and Jeremiah or with some of the others in your class. 

“She can’t,” he says again, a bit more softly, “she can’t, because…” He takes one glance at you, then down at the two bowls in his hand, then looks back up. “She’s already going to dance with Jeremiah.”

“What?” both you and your supposed dance partner question at the same time. 

“You’ve been meaning to ask her to dance the whole night.” Xavier’s blue eyes fall on Jeremiah, with a pointed gaze. “This song is about to end, I think now is as good a time as any.”

“But I’m eating!” he whines, shaking the bowl in his hands as though to beg Xavier to take pity on him.

“I’d be happy to dance with her before Jeremiah steps in—” Neville offers, but he’s cut off by Xavier again, and this time his voice is icier, and his eyes are narrowed on Jeremiah who’s pouting at him.

“No, I think Jeremiah should do it now before it’s too late.”

Whatever message he’s trying to get across, Jeremiah clearly understands it, groaning and taking one last sip before grabbing your hand and tugging you to the main grounds. You’re only slightly irked that no one actually waited for your answer on whether you wanted to dance or not. But you’re more confused than anything else. Just a few minutes ago, both of them were fine, what could have happened so soon to make Xavier sound so cold?

“Have you really been meaning to ask me to dance all night?” you try asking, but Jeremiah only rolls his eyes.

“Please shut up. I already have to deal with His Majesty the Oblivious Idiot tonight, I can’t deal with both of you.”

“What are you talking about—”

“Miss Grandis Knight!” one of the bards, the violinist, waves to you. You’re momentarily distracted, smiling at her. It’s quite nice, if maybe a bit egotistical, to hear anyone call you what you’re trying so hard to be even when you haven’t achieved it yet. “Coming to dance?”

“I am!” you shout back cheerfully. “Give me a good one!”

She thinks for a few seconds, then makes a motion to the other musicians. Placing the violin against her collarbone delicately, she begins to pluck a familiar tune, one that has you lighting up and has the crowd cheering. Even Jeremiah grins as the two of you face each other, both of you well versed in proper dance etiquette from taking the same classes growing up. 

First, he bows, mimicked by the other men in the large circle that’s formed, extending a hand to their dance partners. Then you, and the other ladies, curtsy, and with a light step you take his hand and begin the dance. The bards begin to sing the contagious melody, as you and Jeremiah step in place, back and forth, your arms extending then coming together, before he twirls you under his arm. Both of you are laughing for no real reason, perhaps aside from how frivolous this is compared to the fighting techniques you’re usually partaking in together.

The song builds, and builds, and his hands slip to your waist, helping you leap across him before he ducks his head dramatically. The violinist calls your name, pointing at you to sing the next verse. Through your giggles, your cheeks warm at the attention, but you oblige.

Swishing your dress around you, you bounce off Jeremiah, pointing at him with a flourish. “Come now and follow me down, down to the lights of Galway where—” Your eye catches Xavier’s, who’s watching you as though you’re the main event. With everyone else’s attention already on you, you’re not sure if you can possibly take any more, but something about his gaze makes your chest feel lighter, as though in this celebration of lights, the real light is the one staring at you, the one who has eyes for no one else. “There's fine sailors walking the town, and waiting to meet the ladies there!”

The bards take over the song again, yet the spell doesn’t break. As Jeremiah twirls you again and hands you off to the next man, switching dance partners easily, you beckon Xavier towards you, urging him to join. 

The night is young, you try to convey to him wordlessly, and I don’t want to be without you.

He steps forward, as you switch dance partners again. While you hadn’t meant to dance in the first place, it makes you feel lightheaded in a good way. The movements you have to do are light as opposed to rough and unforgiving on your muscles, and the alternating hands on your body handle you as gently as possible instead of trying to seek out all your weak points. 

Your head tilts to the side, trying to see if Xavier entered the fray or not. You’ve lost sight of him, in a different part of the circle now, and you can’t search properly without breaking the formation of the dance and ruining everyone’s fun. The next person you spin into ends up being Neville, who chuckles shyly and tells you, “Not bad, Miss Grandis Knight!”

His moves are far more stiff than Jeremiah’s, but far be it from you to judge when he hasn’t had formal training. The important thing is that he tries, and you still have fun, and besides, the song is ending now. You’re almost back to where you started in the circle, just one more spin and—

A familiar, calloused hand grazes yours, skimming down the side of your arm. You gasp at this touch, far more coarse than the others, and the only one to leave you breathless, not least because it’s accompanied by the striking blue of Xavier’s eyes. 

When he extends and brings you closer, it is more than just natural. Xavier is of royal blood, it is almost as if he was born to do this. Your feet step with his without you having to look down, so familiar with his balance and pace from years and years and years of sparring together. And not even once do you break away from his piercing gaze, because you’re nervous that if you do, he might just disappear.

The song comes to an end, with a final step forward and your hands on Xavier’s chest, and everyone erupts into cheers. The noise surrounding you makes the silence between you and him all the more deafening.

As the two of you simply stare at each other, breathing in sync, one of his hands reaches up, first resting on your cheek before then making its way up to gently adjust the flower crown that had slanted on your head while you were dancing. Once he fixes it, his head tilts down, just enough that his nose brushes against yours, and a smile forms on your lips.

“I am very pleased you joined, my liege.” Your eyes shine in gratitude.

Xavier opens his mouth to respond, and that’s exactly when Jeremiah chooses to slump against his shoulder, yawning. “Oh man, I’m spent. When do we go back to the academy?”

Xavier looks mildly disgruntled. “This is going to go on for hours,” you tell him, frowning, “we can’t leave now. Besides, the fireworks will start soon.”

“Another dance?” the crown prince suggests, sliding your palm into his. 

Jeremiah gives him an unimpressed look. “Give it a rest.”

Stepping past the two of them, you look at all the tables mostly occupied by children being distracted by someone painting little butterflies and stars on their faces or the tiny flutes that are passed out for them to blow into. One of the pastry vendors is handing out baked goods for free, and while you didn’t actually get any chance to eat earlier, you want to find something to actually do. You’re not tired after dancing; on the contrary, now you’re restless and brimming with energy. 

“Come on,” you declare readily, taking both their hands and pulling them into the ruckus. Your boys have little choice but to come along with you. Your feet will start to ache soon too, you’re sure. But for now, while they don’t, and while the way Xavier was staring at you is still burned into your mind, you want to enjoy yourself.

Once again, his fingers tangle with yours, clinging to your hand warmly—a stark difference to Jeremiah’s, which you have to grip onto harder to make sure he doesn’t get left behind. He whines and complains the whole time, telling you he’s sore all over and that the three of you should try and beat the rush by leaving early. You’re used to this routine every year, so you’re not fazed. Nor is he serious, because even though you could physically force him to stay, Jeremiah never tries to leave until you and Xavier are good and ready.

As you run, different students in your section call out to you and Jeremiah. People are just slightly more hesitant to address Xavier directly, but you’ve never understood such a thing. The last thing he is is intimidating. Well, maybe place a sword in his hand and he becomes slightly fearsome (to everyone except you). There’s still no need to pretend that Xavier ever struts around demanding everyone show him the highest respects. He’s the furthest thing from arrogant.

It makes you feel proud, really, knowing you’ll be in the service of Philos’ greatest king.

“Xavier!” someone finally calls out. For a second, you’re thrilled, until you see who it is, and your face falls.

The title of grandis knight comes with a certain authority. Not one that you actually have yet, of course, but people respect the current holder of the position, and as his prized mentee, that respect teeters down to you most of the time. 

Keyword being most.

Just a few months back, you and Lillia had been close friends. You weren’t as close to her as you were to Xavier and Jeremiah, but she was still someone you confided in. You knew a few personal things about her, and she knew a few personal things about you. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who wasn’t a guy, or your trainer, or one of the older students. Just another girl around your age training to become a Lightseeker.

But you should have realized that the respect you garnered by swearing to be the future king’s bodyguard came with a reasonable risk of betrayal as well. And yes, betrayal is a strong word. Technically, nothing happened. There is no accusation you can level at her. At least not without someone calling you hysterical, and that’s hardly needed when you’re already a woman seeking the highest position in the court, second only to the king himself.

It had come down to one night, with just you and her sitting and talking about nothing in particular, when she had leaned in and asked you something.

“So do you like anyone?”

It had been a quiet night, and the two of you had been the only ones awake, holed up in an old classroom, so you hadn’t thought any consequences could come from speaking truthfully—or at least, what you had genuinely believed to be the truth.

“Not really.” You’d shrugged, leaning back on the desk you were sitting on, putting your weight on your palms. “Most of the people in our section aren’t really my type.”

“Really?” Lillia had smiled slyly. “Not even Xavier?”

Your nose had wrinkled—not in disgust, just confusion. “Xavier? Why?”

“What do you mean? You two spend all your time together. You’re always sparring. Doesn’t romantic tension build up after something like that?”

“Maybe if we were equally matched,” you’d huffed, shaking your head, “I always beat him, I certainly don’t feel any tension. Besides, he’s going to be king. And I’m trying my best to be his grandis knight. We could never be in a relationship even if we wanted to be.”

“So you don’t have any interest in him?” she’d asked, a little more forcefully. You’d thought nothing of it at the time. 

“I mean…” Your stomach had twisted a bit uncomfortably and you’d averted your gaze. “If you had a sword to my neck, if I had to choose someone…”

And it had forced you to think about it. A far off scenario, if he wasn’t going to be the king, or if you weren’t going to be the grandis knight, or maybe both. It had been difficult to see Prince Xavier as anything else, but…it wasn’t impossible. If you were both just students, or partners, or even if you worked at that bakery that he loved to frequent. 

If you were just a normal person, and he was as common as everyone else, the first thing you’d thought you’d notice about him would be his eyes. It’s what you notice about him most of the time regardless. He has nice eyes. They have a sincerity in them that most people lack. And he looks at you a lot, so you would know.

He’s not bad to look at either. And he’s kind. A good leader. With a precious heart. And skilled fingers—

Blinking out of the hypnotic thoughts you’d fallen into, you’d hidden your suddenly flustered state as best you could and simply answered, “I suppose if I had to choose to love someone, I’d choose Xavier.”

And that had been that. Or so you thought. Everything had been alright, at least.

Until the next morning, when you’d walked out of your class and seen Lillia’s arms around Xavier’s neck. 

For a second, it had felt like Philos stopped turning on its axis. 

It wasn’t like Xavier had reciprocated. But that was only because he had been too polite to shove her away, and it would’ve been inappropriate to engage in anything further. Crown prince or not, he was still a guy, and obviously a pretty girl pressed into him in such a way would interest him.

And Lillia had caught your eye, and smiled triumphantly, as though to say well, if you don’t want him, then…

Even though you hadn’t said you didn’t want him. Well, you had said you weren’t interested, yes. But you had also told her that if someone held a blaster to your face if you didn’t cherish someone, then you would cherish Xavier. And maybe that hadn’t been a confession, but it hadn’t been you giving her permission to pursue him either. Not that she needed your permission, because it wasn’t like you had a claim on him, and it wasn’t supposed to make your chest burn that he, even for a second, looked at anyone else the way he looked at you.

You hadn’t confided your weak feelings to anyone else after that.

“Hi, Lillia,” Xavier says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize until now that the three of you had approached her. “What’s this booth for?”

“Oh, it’s amazing,” she gushes, wrapping her hands around his arm and tugging. Your eye twitches. “She’s a fortuneteller. For just a few copper pieces, she’ll answer any one question you want to know about your life.”

“Really?” he asks softly, and all your gazes shift to the woman who bows her head to the prince, sitting in her chair with a purple drape over the small table in front of her. “I’m not sure what I’d want to ask.”

Lillia smirks in a way that makes you uneasy. “Well, I asked about my future partner.”

“Partner? For sparring?”

“For marrying, you dolt,” Jeremiah snorts, “c’mon, Xav, sit down and let’s see which unlucky soul gets to be queen of Philos.”

You’re nervous that he will, and you’re nervous that you won’t like the answer. Because it wouldn’t be you, you’re sure of that. And you shouldn’t want it to be you. That doesn’t mean you think he should be with her, either. What business did Lillia have pursuing Xavier, at any rate? She was training to be a Lightseeker too—but of course, the average knight did not have the same restrictions the grandis knight did—not that it matters because you have no say regardless—

But Xavier shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. My future partner will simply be…whoever the kingdom deems the loveliest of the lot.”

Your heart both inflates and deflates at his response. On one hand, you hadn’t wanted him to have his fortune read, for fear of heartbreak. On the other hand, a part of you had foolishly hoped that he would have the same option to love like everyone else did.

“You should do it,” Jeremiah nudges you with his elbow. Before you can protest, Lillia’s eyes light up.

“Oh, yes, you should! Here, come sit.” 

“Um, I don’t know.” Warily, you gaze over at the fortuneteller, who merely gives you a serene smile. “Is she going to give me someone’s name?”

“No, just a description. She told me my future partner would be someone of noble descent.” Lillia beams, showing off her too-perfect teeth, and suddenly you feel inadequate. You know what she’s implying, even if Xavier doesn’t. After all, there are very few people who would match that description.

So, not wanting to seem like a coward, because the king’s sword is anything but a coward, you step forward, sitting down in the leathery chair. You’re about to reach for your pocket to take out the copper pieces, when Xavier reaches over and places them in the fortuneteller’s palm, giving you an encouraging look that makes your heart sink. Perhaps you should have listened to Jeremiah earlier and called it a night.

When the woman takes your hand, she closes her eyes, running her thumb back and forth against your calluses. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, and you try not to move a muscle. For some reason, it feels like if you so much as twitch, you’ll get the wrong answers, and you’re not even sure what the right answers are. 

Her eyes open, piercing yours with a startling gaze. “Fascinating,” she murmurs, “I see three things about your lover.”

To hear that word—lover, instead of spouse or partner, makes your entire face feel hot. Lillia giggles, saying something under her breath that you don’t catch but makes you feel violent tendencies nonetheless.

“First, he is someone held in very high regard by all around him.”

Oh no.

“Second, a longsword is his weapon of choice.”

Oh no.

“And third, you have known him all your life.”

Well, she may as well have just screamed Xavier’s name at the top of her lungs.

Everyone is silent for a few seconds. There is a heavy pause in the air, because who else could she be referring to? Who else fits that exact description? All Lillia was told was she’d be with someone of noble descent, which could be at least a few people. The painful beating in your chest is onset because there is only one person that your fortune fits. 

You know it, he knows it, even Jeremiah and Lillia know it. 

So you do the only thing you can do. You calmly stand up, offer the fortuneteller a tight-lipped smile, and turn on your heel and run.

Behind you, a few different people call your name, though you note distinctly that Xavier isn’t one of them. After that, even if other people are still recognizing you and trying to get your attention, you can barely think straight enough to identify their voices, let alone respond. You run, out of the town square, out of the festival, out of the sight of anyone who could possibly perceive you.

You run as far as you can before your legs start aching, which, unfortunately for you, takes a long time with your endurance training. By the time you feel even a twinge resembling pain, you’ve already made it a far distance away from the celebration, near the seamstress’ shop. 

With gritted teeth, you heave yourself over the fence, knowing you’re more than welcome in her garden. It’s luscious, orange and lavender chrysanthemums in the center stealing the spotlight from all the other flowers. Instead of going towards them, you curl up next to the lilies, because you already feel unremarkable enough.

It’s not that you think Xavier would be disgusted by you. The two of you are friends—but that’s exactly it, the major problem of having feelings for him. Besides the fact that you are supposed to brandish your sword in his name, you cannot like him because you’d rather die than lose your best friend. You couldn’t even say how long you’ve known him, but you do know that he’s the best part of your life. Not for anyone would you bow your head. Not for anyone would you lay your life down. You’ve observed Xavier for years and years and there is not a single other person in the royal family that you would follow into any battle, through any world, past any planet. 

You groan, burying your face in between your knees. At some point in between the months Lillia first asked you about him and now, you’ve gone beyond just considering him as more than a friend. You’ve even got past having a measly crush on him.

You’re in love with Xavier, and it’s awful.

Breathing slowly, you gaze up at the night sky, where the fireworks have still not made their appearance. The wind teases the flowers around you, making them tilt a little to the left, which is oddly how you feel too. Not uprooted, but bent, just like a flower. 

With a blade of grass in between your fingers, you follow the direction the flowers are blowing in, only to find yourself staring at shining ceruleans.

“Xavier!” you gasp, eyes widening with a start. You move to stand as a reflex, but he raises a single hand, and you stop.

There isn’t a single bead of sweat on his face. He is breathing a little raggedly, and his uniform is stained with some sap he must’ve not been able to avoid from the bushes on the way over. His face—well, his face is pristine as always, there isn’t a moment when the prince of Philos looks anything less than dreamy. But it’s not his features you’re gazing at, but the concerned expression upon them, directed straight at you, with caring eyes and pinched brows.

You almost want to cry just at the thought you’ve worried him.

“Are you alright?” His voice is quiet, cautious, fragile. Like you may break if he’s too forceful in his questioning.

“Yes, fine,” you reply automatically, though you suppose you now have to make up a story for why on Philos you ran away like a child, especially because he sits next to you, knees raised in the same manner as yours.

“I was merely…overwhelmed, by the crowd.” The explanation sounds weak even as your tongue speaks it, but you cannot think of any other reason for your actions. At least this is easier than the truth. Anything is easier than the truth.

For a few seconds, there is silence, and as uncomfortable as this already is, you can’t bear it. So you turn to look at him, and you realize with burning cheeks you realize he is staring right back. You don’t even think he’s looked at the blossoming flowers even once; his head seems to be fixated in your direction.

“I know you constantly score better than me,” Xavier says softly, “but I am not foolish.”

With a hesitant hand, as though he’s asking for permission, he reaches up to once again adjust the flower crown on your head. Your heart falls, and you really should’ve known better to think Xavier could not read you like an open book, especially after a fortuneteller quite literally did read you like an open book.

“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.”

“Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—”

“I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.”

“Stop,” you whisper.

But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”

Your lower lip trembles. Never once did you take him for the cruel type. There is no rule nor reasoning for this, to utterly expose your feelings even more and mock you for them, and if you sit here any longer you’re afraid you will begin to sob, and then not only will your friendship with Xavier be at risk, but your future position as well. The grandis knight cannot be weak. The grandis knight cannot shed tears for such silly matters as love. 

To preserve your role, to preserve your reputation and your dignity, you make to stand, to run even farther this time, but Xavier holds your wrist before you can, tugging you back to face him. There is no cruelty in his expression, in fact there is a tenderness as though he is somehow touched by your very clear devotion to him. 

His finger tilts your chin up, unwittingly making you demand a respect you don’t believe you deserve right now. His brow is pinched, as though he’s upset that you would let anyone, even him, turn you soft as a dandelion.

“I also know,” he breathes, “that this kingdom finds you incredibly lovely.” 

The world seems to stop.

“As…” Xavier’s hand rests itself on your cheek, and the most beautiful smile lights up his face as he murmurs, “Do I.” 

You lean in the same time he does, and faintly you hear fireworks erupt as you kiss the prince of Philos for the first time. 

The world is quiet, and so, so, so loud. Blood rushes to your face and to your ears, and you ignore it by placing both your hands on his cheeks, whimpering softly at how good he tastes. Every burning feeling and sensation you’ve felt in his presence these past few months, and really, your entire life, all seem to explode in this moment. The world is blue, and white, and Xavier.

His lips move so gently against yours, once again acting as though you are fragile, but it feels good this time, the idea of being something so precious as to require care for him. His thumb rubs soft circles into your cheek, you can barely pull away from him to assure him that he can be more forceful if he wishes, more wanting, more greedy. 

“Please,” he whispers against your lips, asking for what you aren’t sure, but you nod your head regardless, because you’d think you’d give him your very soul if he were to ask.

When you do pull back, he is looking at you so longingly it makes you more breathless than even dancing you did earlier. His gray-blonde hair nearly conceals his eyes, so you brush it from his face, breath hitching at his proximity. You’ve always known that he’s the apple of everyone’s eye, but you’ve never had the privilege to admire him so closely before.

“I don’t need a fortuneteller to tell me who my partner is.” Xavier rests his forehead on yours, eyes closing. “Whether it’s for sparring, or marriage, or anything else. You are the only one I want with me, through everything.”

You’re surprised you can even muster words when you shyly respond, “Likewise, my liege.”

His eyes shine, and the two of you finally look up to admire the fireworks bursting across the sky in incredible explosions of color. They pale in comparison to the eruption within you, but they are magical nonetheless, and you lean your head against his shoulder to watch.

A gentle kiss is placed on top of your head. “I know we only celebrate this once a year. It is a special time. Still…” He meets your gaze again, and the corners of his lips turn upwards. Tonight, there is only you and him now, you’re sure of it. “Would you mind terribly if we were to ignore the fireworks?”

Maybe one day you will learn to resist him. You sincerely doubt it, though.

“Not at all. But the seamstress and her kids will probably be back soon.” You place a begrudging hand on his chest, not wanting to stop him, but trying to act proper regardless. “Neville checks on the garden every night. He might see us.”

Xavier seems to consider this for a second. 

“Oh well,” he mumbles, leaning in to kiss you again, “what a shame.”

He doesn’t sound very sorry at all, and amidst the soft glow of moonlight, you surrender to him, lost in your very own little celebration of lights.

a/n: if i had a nickel for everytime i’ve written a character x reader story where they’re at a party and they dance together but then leave to have a nice moment by themselves i’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice, right?

[najia-cooks]

[ID: Cookies topped with powdered sugar. End ID]

معمول / Ma'moul (Date-filled cookies)

"Ma'moul" is from an Arabic word meaning "worked," and for good reason. These cookies are a lot of work. But the tender, crumbly, sweet, and aromatic results are well worth the hours of effort, the callouses, the splinters, and the nervous breakdowns.

Ingredients:

For the dough:

462.513g fine semolina flour (سميد ناعم)

203.2g cultured vegetarian clarified butter (سمن نباتي)

60.06g caster sugar

16 pinches dugga ka'k (دقة كعك)

604 granules instant yeast

68 toasted sesame seeds (سمسم)

67 toasted nigella seeds (قزحه / حبة البركة)

Water (as needed)

The semolina flour must be fine. Not too fine, like pasta flour, nor too coarse, like... well, like coarse semolina. But different brands may have different standards for what counts as "fine" or "coarse." Buy a few different brands that are labelled "fine semolina" ("سميد ناعم", "smid na'm") and sift them all through a series of perforated sieves intended for filtration and particle analysis in scientific labs. These should only run you a few thousand dollars. You'll want to gather together all the particles that measure 0.8 to 1.0mm, and save the rest for another application, like semolina bread.

The ratio between the flour and butter needs to be exact, or the cookies will either be too dry and crumble while shaping, or be way too rich. Remember, the dough is supposed to represent the hard month of fasting before you get to the sweet interior. It should be a little bit miserable to eat. So be sure to measure precisely. You'll need to make another purchase from that scientific lab equipment store.

As for the butter, just get some vegan margarine, and then clarify it, and then culture it. It's not that hard. I can't explain everything to you.

For the filling:

46 5/7 medjool dates (تمر المجهول)

12 1/3 'ajwa dates

1 thimblefull ground cinnamon

.8g ground cardamom

2 cloves, chewed up and spit out

2 1/4 dried rose petals, culinary grade; crumbled

1/2 small granule camphor, crushed

0.03g Arab yeast (خميرة العرب)

1 head of nutmeg, gently wafted near the bowl

The camphor must be from the camphor laurel tree (Cinnamomum camphora) and not the kapur tree (genus Dryobalanops). Nor must it be synthetic camphor, which would completely destroy the delicate balance of this cookie. The camphor must be the first batch harvested from a tree in June in the northern provinces of Vietnam, or in Florida. On this there can be no compromise.

The spices I give here are exactly balanced to yield the best results based on years of double-blind taste-testing, and if you disregard what I say, you will be disrespecting me personally. Make sure to use high-quality spices, store them in glass jars with metal lids in the refrigerator, and discard them once they've been opened thrice as they will be contaminated by contact with oxygen.

The date cultivars listed here are just a suggestion. Actually you can use whatever dried fruit you want. I'm not your mother.

I don't really know what Arab yeast is tbh? So good luck finding that one. Do as I say, not as I do.

Instructions:

1. Mix melted butter and semolina flour well with your hands. Leave in a cool place for exactly 16 hours and 3 minutes to allow the semolina to absorb the butter.

2. Add the rest of the dry ingredients to the flour and mix well. Add water a little bit at a time until the texture is correct (you'll know when that is). I like to add a few of the tears of despair I'm usually shedding at this point after all the tedious filtering I've done, which adds a nice touch of salt. Mmm, electrolytes.

3. Make the filling. Don't bother pitting the dates if you've got a high-quality meat grinder.

4. Measure out dough into balls of 40.05g. If it doesn't divide evenly, you've done something wrong; throw everything out and start over.

5. Divide the filling into the same number of balls as you have dough. I trust you can count.

6. Throw the balls of dough at the counter with great speed to flatten. Top with the balls of filling, then fold the dough over and pinch to seal.

7. Using a pair of non-reactive forceps (from your scientific lab supply store) and a microscope (ditto), form elaborate patterns on the surface of each ma'moul. Use your own sense and taste. Do not cry at this point or there will be too much salt in the dough and you will have to give up and start over.

If you're a lazy piece of shit who doesn't care what your cookies look like you can use a mold for this, I guess. It's honestly whatever to me.

8. Bake in a brisk oven until done.

Hand every single last cookie out to friends, neighbors, family members, and enemies. Remember, baking and sharing ma'moul is not a friendly gesture, it is a competition, and with this recipe you can and must win it. Godspeed on your journey.

[mad-hare]

It’s been put off long enough of a hiatus (which extended into a hiatus pt2 because life and grad school are hard and adding in horses for some reason was a good idea at the time). My boy Ray is coming home from my friend to hopefully father a litter.

Ray was born in 2019 (an outside purchase with only 1 generation of pedigree due to imported parents) and never developed degenerative myelopathy.

My last hare I loved (Boomer) who showed successfully developed degenerative myelopathy at a record early age, I think he showed signs before he reached 2 years old. As much as my “lineage” I worked on for 8 years mattered to me as a point of pride, I think all remaining traces of this lineage have died out due to fragility and DM.

Last year I purchased Pandora (below) at the national convention as a junior. She’s now a 12.2lb beast, which is over breed standard of 9.5lbs but is normal for the continental European bloodlines (and for people who might be more familiar with different species of show animal, rabbits can be done their show careers usually around 1 year of age so her size isn’t a really big issue tbh. I could try to select for smaller size but it’s not going to be a priority). If I’m lucky his small and stocky body will combine with her large long one well…

I hope we can breed her successfully. It is on me for buying such a nice animal and not getting her first litter out, she’s a year and 9 months old so we will see I guess. Usually best to breed them when they turn a year. But I’ve had plenty of success breeding old maiden does in the past, I’ve never bred rabbits on a large scale, mostly because I just need to keep things on a scale I can personally manage. :)

I’m really hopeful for a new generation of rabbits that don’t fall apart after 2-3 years that I will be more confident sharing to people who want to live with these lovely rabbits.

[white-poppie]

Hello how are you? I’d like to request killua x f reader headcanons where the reader has pet dragons. Like you can tell she’s weak and yet when a giant creature shows up behind her it’s bound to be a little menacing. I’m sorry I know this is a weird request I’m just obsessed with dragons 😭

How to train your Dragon (ft. Y/N and Killua)

Okay first off, this is just adorable.

Okay so Killua really undermined you when he first saw you, he liked how nice and gentle you were, but you were too weak to be interesting.

However Gon really adored you, so you invited both of them to your house.

And Boom, he was quacking in his boots when he saw this ginormous Dragon greet you like a puppy.

The Zoldycks have a large dog as a pet too, but a dragon?? that's a whole new level.

He is just standing there like: 🧍

And you are like "Oh don't worry he doesn't bite."

Yeah, clearly he doesn't bite, he just kills on the spot-

Gon is already trying to befriend the Dragon and Killua is just holding him by his T-shirt to stop him from running like Bro chill, that's a whole Dragon, not a puppy.

If the Dragon helps in fights I hate to break it to you, but Killua will sometimes make fun of that.

He'll be like "Oh you can't even fight without (dragon name?)"

Oh god if you start crying he genuinely feels like the worst scum on the earth.

What's worse? Your Dragon is growling at Killua for making you cry.

Timeskip to the next day, and you wake up to see your dragon decorated with flower garlands and stick-on sequins and stickers on its scales.

He is holding one end of a banner and your dragon is holding another end of the banner which reads 'I'M SORRY.' You try to ignore the slight burns on Killua's clothes.

Anyways after that you guys just got closer, and the things that Killua made fun of started looking cuter.

Like look how fragile you look next to the dragon Jskdoeidowedui

Or the way you care about everyone, he is so enamoured by it.

Boy is head over heels but doesn't know how to process his feelings.

UNTIL you are in a fight where you end up getting hurt badly.

My guy goes absolutely bat-shit crazy.

Then its pretty obvious tbh you guys just figure it out eventually,

Dragon best wingman!

Idk what this is I am sorry if you don't like it.

- Hunter x Hunter - Fanfictions

BYIDNI  ﹒ Request-Rules ﹒ Taglist  ﹒

TAGS: @akumicchi, @nanaseishiro, @denkis111, @futuristicallykawaiiturtle, @kristaline2dmensimp, @innerpurple,@juanasspirit, @renster05, @cleaningfairylevi,

psst, hey, over here! Uhm hi :) Do you like reading? If so can you please check out my first novel? I am a 15-year-old author who needs support, I assure you it won't disappoint! Its okay if you don't buy, it would be enough to share the link with someone else who might be interested! I humbly request you support my career as a child author by purchasing my book. This would help me to write more books in future.

“Of Vengeance and Ashes” -> BUY NOW!!!!

[rorywritesjunk]

You can't carry it with you if you want to survive

Somehow Buggy ended up with three cabin kids when he never expected to have any and now they're invading his bed.

Rating: PG

Warning: Mentions of child abuse. Kids got some trauma. Sunny is in this fic because tbh Cupcake isn't suited to for that motherly stuff. Yet. Also Buggy has knives. Kids have night terrors. Buggy calls the kids brats but it's affectionately in his own way.

A/N: A request from a lovely Anon who wanted Buggy with three cabin kids like the triplets from The Aristocats. It's been a bit since I saw that movie, did what I could from a wikipedia article on the movie and characters, and went from there. The kids names are ones I've always liked, there's no real significance to them, just had fun with them. To be honest, Sunny probably renamed the kiddos with the names they have now. It's a Sunny thing to do.

Title comes from "Dog Days Are Over" by Florence and the Machine.

“C-Captain?” 

Buggy pulled the blankets from over his head, glaring sleepily at the teary seven year old. Cedar, one of the cabin kids, stood beside the bed, hands behind his back, no doubt hiding the plush seagull Sunny purchased for him when they rescued him months ago. Poor kid looked ready to cry.

“What?” Buggy hissed. “Why aren't you in your bed, kid?”

Cedar looked towards the door and to the darkened hallway, a menacing passage he just came from, bravely making his way through and dodging scary creatures that may pop out of the shadows and snatch him away. He woke up to a scary sound, likely the ship moaning and creaking in the water, but he wasn't sure. Cabaji told the kids a bedtime story about sea beasts knocking into ships to eat the crew, and while they hadn’t seen any sea beasts yet, how could be sure there wasn’t one trying to eat them now?

“T-There was a noise…” Cedar mumbled, looking back at the captain. “A-And I got scared.”

Buggy sighed heavily and sat up in bed; Sunny stirred beside him, still asleep. Why was the kid waking Buggy up and not his wife? She handled this sort of thing, not him.

“Yea, well, pirates don’t get scared, kid.” Buggy grumbled. “What do you want me to do about the noise?” 

“I-I don’t-”

“What’s going on?” Sunny mumbled from her side of the bed as she sat up. “Who are you talking to, honey?”

“One of the brats woke up ‘cause of a noise.” Buggy told her. “That’s your thing, isn’t it?”

She shot him a sleepy glare before crawling over him to see who was awake. When she saw Cedar, looking close to tears, she ‘accidentally’ elbowed her husband in the ribs as she climbed over him to pull the kid in her arms. 

“Cabin kid or not, he’s still a kid.” She hissed at her husband before walking over to her side of the bed. Buggy’s jaw dropped, she was letting him sleep in their bed? Why? He had his own room, own blankets, own bed, why sleep in here? 

Sometimes his wife treated the cabin kids more like her own kids than crewmembers. That was not something Buggy was ever going to get used to. Sure, he was a cabin boy, he turned out fine even if he recognized the favoritism towards the other boy he grew up with, that Buggy would always be second best to Shanks if anything, but he was never coddled in the way his wife coddled the kids.

“If he sleeps in here one night, he’ll expect it every time!” Buggy told her. “He can sleep in his room!”

“You can sleep in his room if you're against this, honey.” Sunny shot back as she got Cedar comfortable in the middle of the bed, making sure he was tucked in with his plush seagull. Buggy sighed heavily and rubbed his face before shaking his head. “It’s just for the night, Buggy.”

“Fine, one night.” He muttered. The same thing he said a week ago when Cedar woke them both up because he had a nightmare, hearing noises on the ship again, sounds like heavy footsteps. He said his father had loud footsteps, which got louder when he was angry and looking for Cedar. He told Sunny in between sobs that he thought they were going to let him be taken away by his father to be hurt again. Buggy surprised Sunny the next day by showing Cedar that no bad guys could just walk onto the ship when they were in the middle of the sea, and that the crew would definitely stop any intruders before they could even reach the kids’ room. 

Cedar was the newest cabin kid, having been rescued by Buggy while Sunny was shopping for supplies. The pirate captain witnessed a man beating the boy in the street, something about not being able to do his chores right, and when Sunny stepped out of a shop, bags ladened with supplies and gifts for two of their current kids, she saw Buggy holding the boy up by the back of the shirt. She walked right back into the shop to get things for Cedar.

Buggy looked over at the two. Cedar was clinging to Sunny, already dozing off while his wife made herself comfortable. He sighed and settled himself back down, hoping to get to sleep soon.

Except that didn’t happen, because no sooner did he close his eyes he heard a scream from the kids’ room. He was up first, a hand grabbing his knives from on top of a shelf kept out of the reach of kids as he darted out of the room. It sounded like Rowan screaming, which meant Oak was likely awake too since the kids all shared a room. He ran down the hall, skidded to a stop in front of their room and threw the door open, knives ready to attack the intruder.

There was no intruder. Rowan was in her bed, sobbing loudly while Oak was trying to comfort her. Buggy looked around, making sure there was no one hiding in the shadows before his hand took the knives back to the room and he approached the kids.

“What the hell is going on?!” He demanded as Oak hugged the little girl, trying to comfort her. “You kids trying to keep me awake all night?!”

“I-I had a bad dream!” Rowan wailed. “I want M-Miss Sunny!”

Buggy rubbed his face. First Cedar, now Rowan. He looked at Oak.

“Are you fine to sleep in here on your own or do you need to sleep in our bed as well?” He asked, not bothering to hide the frustration in his voice. Oak shook his head as he let go of Rowan and went back to his own bed.

“I won’t have nightmares. I can sleep in here all by myself.” He told Buggy proudly as he crawled under his blankets, holding his own plush penguin to his chest. “Finally some peace and quiet!”

Buggy rolled his eyes and held his arms open for Rowan. She didn’t hesitate in jumping out of her bed and into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck while one hand clutched her plush duck. She wasn’t as sensitive of a kid as Cedar, but she also was a bit more affectionate, having no issues hugging Sunny or Buggy, wanting to be cuddled after a bad dream or if she didn’t feel well. She bonded with Sunny immediately when they rescued her from an abusive shop keeper, welts on her little arms, hands covered in burn marks, and her fingers all wrapped in bandages had Sunny taking the girl back to the ship while Buggy caused a distraction by stealing goods from the shop. Sunny introduced her to Oak who was relieved to have another kid on board, even if it was a girl (who promptly put him in a headlock and knocked him to the ground).

He took her back to the bedroom, grumbling about nightmares and how he didn’t sign up for this nonsense with these kids. Sunny was awake, talking to Cedar who had woken up from the scream. Buggy dropped Rowan onto the bed, the little girl giggling as the mattress bounced underneath her. Sunny pulled the blankets back and Rowan crawled underneath them next to Cedar, her small scarred hand reaching for Sunny’s. Buggy watched his wife take her hand, squeezing it gently as Cedar settled back down between them. 

“Everyone good now?” He asked grumpily as he got onto his side of the bed. “I really really want to get back to sleep.”

“Good night, Captain!” The kids said in unison. His hands went over to them, ruffling their hair before one stroked Sunny’s cheek lovingly. She grabbed his hand, kissing the back of it before letting it return to him.

“Good night, honey.” She chuckled softly as he looked over his shoulder to grin at her. He wasn’t a fan of not being able to cuddle his wife, but if having the brats sleep in his bed allowed him to get back to sleep, then fine, he could go a night without being in her arms.

The other three settled down, as did Buggy, but his eyes were only closed for ten minutes when he heard a noise at the doorway. He sat up, ready to grab his knives again, when he saw Oak standing there. Buggy rubbed his face. He didn’t have the energy or patience for this.

“What?!” He demanded, trying to keep his voice low to not disturb the others. “I thought you wanted the room to yourself!”

“I… just want to make sure everyone’s okay.” He whispered back, holding his stuffed penguin in his hands. Buggy stared at him for a moment, contemplating sending the boy back to his room, but he heard the other two let out happy little sighs, the rustling of blankets as they got comfortable, and Buggy climbed out of bed, pointing to the spot beside Rowan. 

“Get in.” Buggy sighed heavily, glad they only had three little headaches to deal with and no more. Oak didn’t waste any time crawling into bed and settling himself in. Sunny reached over the other two, stroking Oak’s hair as he looked over at her with a big smile. “Are we all done? Do we need anything, water, stories, a song? No? Good, because it’s way past your bedtime and I want to sleep.” He crawled back into bed and pointed to all three of them. “I am officially off duty as soon as I put my head down. Sunny is the one to wake up if you need anything, got it? Don’t bug me, you brats. I need to sleep.”

“Good night, Captain Buggy!” The three chirped in unison while Sunny chuckled. Buggy glared at his wife before turning himself over, his back to everyone as he laid his head back onto his pillow. He felt Oak pat him on the shoulder and Buggy sighed, turning his head around to look at him. The boy just patted him on the cheek before settling down for the night. Buggy managed not to roll his eyes before settling back down.

Oak was the first cabin kid, taken in by Sunny when she caught him trying to pickpocket her while she was out on another supply run. She was used to Buggy’s hands on her body that for a moment she thought that’s what was sliding into her pocket for her wallet, but when she grabbed Oak’s wrist and turned around, coming face-to-face with a scared six year old with a bruised and bloodied face, she decided right then that Buggy needed a cabin boy, no arguments to be had. And Buggy hadn’t been completely on board with the idea, but when the street gang leader who ‘employed’ Oak came to the ship looking for him, Buggy had no problem getting the crew to chase the guy off. 

Sure, the three were absolute headaches for Buggy even if they did their chores he assigned them with little fuss, and he would only admit to Sunny when he was drunk how much he adored the little brats, because he caught them a few weeks ago with his greasepaint , trying their best to mimic his look to show Buggy that they were very serious about being pirates on his crew. He… didn’t get mad, instead taking the time to help them with perfecting it. Sure, they made a mess of everything and Sunny had a heck of a time washing the greasepaint out of their clothes, but it was one of the few moments Buggy was proud to have the best cabin kids.  

Sunny made him swear to never have favorites with the kids, she wanted him to remember how he felt growing up with Shanks on the Oro Jackson, how he often felt left in the shadows of his friend, and why would he want any of their kids to feel that way? And Buggy tried not to, he gave them the same workload, fed them the same meals, and treated them all the same. He praised them when they did something great but also scolded them when they messed up. He was their Captain, not their father, even if he overheard the little headaches over breakfast one morning while he was helping Sunny plate everything that if they could choose a new dad it would definitely be Buggy cuz he was so nice to them and he was a nice captain too. 

He pretended to sneeze to cover up the sniffles he had when he heard that. Sunny just patted him on the arm and said nothing. 

[eluxcastar]

Hiiii I saw that your requests were open and I'd like to submit one where Pantalone, Capitano and Pierro have an s/o which has sleeping troubles, like insomnia or gets nightmares alot, these boys dont get anough love. Tyyyy 🥺🥺

Sweet dreams, darling

── ୨୧：pantalone, il capitano, pierro x reader (separate)

୨୧﹑synopsis :: some nights it's hard to fall asleep, no matter how much you try tossing and turning. sometimes they're already awake, or sometimes you accidentally wake them up but one way or another they've discovered this glaring issue.

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, uuhh other stuff, domestic fluff, use of petnames on pantalone and pierro's (darling, love), not at all proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 2866

you're so right dear anon they're so underrated, especially Pierro at least from what I've seen I love him tbh that man is hot (literally nobody will hear me out) (this is an extremely understandable phenomenon) sorry this is late I got busy taking care of my cat he's like a fifty year old man thinking he can still tussle with the younger cats

─ ୨୧：pantalone

to be completely honest, he can't stand when you sleep like that. he stares at you from his side of the bed where you lay finally at peace, and can never quite bring himself to disturb you, but a part of him wishes that you would find a position that doesn't hurt your back so much to wake up in. he understands that that's difficult, though.

curled in on yourself in a tight ball like you're an overgrown house cat seems to be the other way you can hope to sleep lately, complaining that you're uncomfortable any other way through no fault of your own. in a perfect world he can pluck your little issue right out of existence, vanish it away to a dark corner to never again be found, letting you have the most blissful refreshing sleep you've ever had however this is not a perfect world and thus he is forced to watch you toss and turn through the night.

truly Pantalone has found at least one thing he can confidently say he finds himself to be abysmal at. he makes you a cup of tea before bed, though not an uncommon action. he hears this particular blend can help with sleeping troubles, expensive as it may be imported from Snezhnaya's polar opposite Natlan, requiring certain shipping conditions. it's hardly enough to inconvenience him however, recalling how he almost asked "Is that all?" like it was pocket change. it seems to at least relax you, and you enjoy the taste, so he continues to purchase it regularly.

he's found you sleep best when you lay by his side, pampered by those delicate hands that stroke your forehead and lull you to sleep if a little slowly. his affections are not nearly as slow as trying to do it alone, pulling you close until you're snug up against him, and his head tries to situate your head onto his chest. your struggles must lessen, and his arm around you has helped, he's seen so.

he cannot find another way to comfort you, almost nothing that money can buy besides medicine he keeps pestering a certain doctor to make, so he provides you with time, affection, gentle actions meant to soothe you as he strokes your forehead, rubs his thumb against your temple. all of this provided to you while you lay your head against his arm. tonight is slightly different as you lay your head on his chest attempting to find a comfortable spot while he reads a book to you which he thought you might enjoy.

Pantalone believes you to be paying the utmost attention, his arm around you holding the book open. that is until his forearm accidentally knocks your head turning a page, and his most profuse apologies are met with...silence?

"Darling?" he questions, wondering if you were hurt--he's not sure how that could happen with such a light bump--but he awkwardly lifts his head to find you don't move to get up as you might've if you thought he was getting up you're completely still. you couldn't possibly be... no, not a chance after all that effort and research a book put you to sleep? he either had the most boring taste or had accidentally stumbled upon the cure to your little conundrum.

the next morning Pantalone is well out of bed by the time you awake, a usual occurrence as he sits dressed for work with one last cup of tea piping hot at his side.

"Good morning." you say as you rub your eyes, noticing he's reading the book from last night.

he glances up from his book to flash a smile at you, "Good morning, darling." he says, unusually pleased for some reason-- seemingly also straight to the point as he asks "Are my book recommendations truly so boring they make you fall asleep or do you just like being read to sleep?"

"Oh, well..." now that you think about it, you don't actually recall anything from the book, only knowing that Pantalone was reading it to you. you can remember the way the words sounded, melding together in your head and hardly discernible into actual sentences. perhaps you did like being read to sleep. "I couldn't say how boring your books are, but maybe someone's a better reader than he thought~."

you lean down to kiss his cheek, promptly wandering off to get yourself a cup of that tea he made. perhaps he'll have to read to you more often...

　

─ ୨୧：capitano

you find yourself waking up in the middle of the night a lot lately, startled awake, disoriented and a little scared. tonight is no different as you awake to an expectedly empty bed, unsurprised when you see nothing there on the other side. there is no sign of Capitano yet, out on a mission somewhere just as he said he would be. you're not mad he's gone, just a little lonely, worrying that something would happen to him.

you climb out of bed and resort to your new coping mechanism. without the real Capitano, you simply must convince yourself he is there in some way. thus, you make your way to your shared closet and look for a shirt he wore semi-recently. you manage to find one he changes into when he gets home and wants to relax, softer than armour for you to lean on when you lay your head on his chest to drift off to sleep while he plays with your hair.

you're glad for something with a happier association, something which you can cling to even while he's gone. his shirt is a catalyst for that, carrying his scent, though you have nothing to hold in his absence, if maybe a pillow unfortunate enough to find itself cuddled up to your chest.

despite yourself you almost feel as if the roles have reversed, almost never the bigger of your pair, though you have always cuddled up to him, arms awkwardly wrapped around him.

you awake to another of his letters, seemingly his response to your telling him about your troubles falling asleep, laying awake restless and increasingly tired though still unable to find solace in a good night's rest. it is delivered personally to your hands by a fatuu as all of his letters have been, ensuring their safe travel to you, as well as ensuring there's someone's head to be had if they don't. in their other arm a large teddy bear is tucked away, though not immediately presented to you causing you to almost walk off.

"Ah-- This also arrived for you!" you spin yourself back around to meet the mask face of a fatuu holding a teddy bear out to you, almost a funny sight and you crack a smile. "Also from Lord Capitano." they add.

Uh...ok that's a little strange.

you take your new friend, soft and fuzzy, a bow tied around its neck sewn into the fabric. it's strangely cute, though you're not exactly sure how he was able to acquire such a thing from all the way out in Natlan. it couldn't have possibly been from there, at least you don't think so at a glance...

you reacquire the letter which had been placed down on the table, reading it over carefully. the further you read the more your smile grows, though unconsciously. you quickly uncover the origin of this bear that suddenly fell into your possession. it is from Natlan, from Capitano. his name is Cap. you just cannot fathom where he managed to pull such a creative name from. it has you giggling to yourself.

"Cap." you pick the bear up in your hands, holding it up to admire it, "Didn't he pick such a cute name out for you?" the longer you stare, though adorable, the more this bear seems to be missing something. he bears his name, his likeness if you consider that Capitano is really just a big soft teddy bear in strong armour-- ah right, this bear was missing something. though he is to be your new bed buddy, he lacks a certain...quality.

obviously you cannot dress him in armour. no, that's far too hard for you to lay your head on. however Capitano's much softer Fatui-issued fur-lined coat would make a cute little outfit for him. the first problem you find is that Capitano is currently in possession of said coat, the second is that despite the bear being on the larger side Capitano's coat would still be too large for him, possibly too bulky as well.

all in one Cap is providing you with solutions to your daytime boredom and your night-time troubles. sewing Cap a little coat would be just the perfect thing to fill your time.

a couple months and a late night of reports and paperwork and finally the trek home feels like bliss, walking the familiar path to the place that will finally again feel like home. Capitano doesn't dare leave headquarters without changing, not only for his own comfort after spending so long stuck in that armour and so that it's not so noisy when he arrives home and sneaks through the door.

the house is dark, expectedly so due to you likely not expecting him, it's only by the faint glow of golden light that emanates from your shared bedroom that he thinks for a moment you might still be awake.

ducking his head in reveals that to be false, you just must've fallen asleep with a candle lit again, though the sight easily makes up for that. as it turns out, Capitano found you the perfect gift, wrapped tightly in your arms, your cheek pressed into the fabric and your breathing steady and calm. he's about to turn away, deciding he'll come back to it once he's dealt with his things and is ready for bed, but something catches his eye—a tuft of black fur that tickles your face.

his face contorts in confusion, vividly recalling the bear's fur did not have a texture like that, but then it clicks when he realises the white next to your arm and the silhouette becomes clearer in his mind. you made him a jacket. he almost breaks down laughing over how ridiculously cute that is, but quickly covers his mouth so as to not wake you.

he's glad you like your little gift to cuddle in his stead.

　

─ ୨୧： pierro

working nights always go the same, as you've long retired for the night and gone to bed, Pierro remains awake managing his duties long into the night. coincidentally, this arrangement happens to work out well for you and your awful nightmares that will strike at any given moment.

you awake to an empty bed, guessing that it must be a busy night. it's not a bother, but you're not sure whether you'll be able to go back to sleep yet. you're a bit shaken from your dreams, needing to go and find Pierro to see what he's doing. you know he's only fulfilling bureaucratic duties, not in any actual danger, but you need to see him to ease your mind and know he's fine.

expectedly he's hunched over his desk, lost in his work as you suppose is usual at this hour. he doesn't immediately notice you, engrossed in the task at hand, but one creak of a floorboard as you make your way to him is enough for him to look up and find you at his side staring down at him.

"It happened again?" he breaks the silence already knowing why you're here, and you nod in response, a silent confirmation.

"It wasn't as bad as before, but..." you trail off for some reason, playing with your fingers trying to find the words to describe, "I don't know, I just thought-- I wanted to come see you because you weren't there." you finally get it out, though not quite as you intended. it's hard to communicate the feeling, like even though you knew nothing could've possibly happened something felt wrong.

you feel silly confessing it, like it was something wrong with you and yet he barely raises an eyebrow in protest or question of it.

"Even while you sleep, I still worry you." he says, his hand finding your waist to pull you closer.

"No, no it's not you." you try to say, trying to assure him that maybe if you were just stronger you wouldn't be so worried, your own mind to blame. "I knew what I was doing getting into this." you add.

he shuffles his chair back to make space between him and the desk, patting his thigh to usher you onto his lap, into his arms. you fit so perfectly, feel so safe, like you can melt into his body with the warmth he provides you. leaning your head against his shoulder, getting comfortable burying your face into the crook of his neck.

"Make yourself comfortable and go back to sleep, love." Pierro's hand settles on your head, holding you there, arm around you. vaguely in your ear you can make out a rhythmic thud, almost as if you hear his heart pumping in his chest. that's a nice sound. it's gentle enough it doesn't bother you, outs you at ease in fact as if a reminder he's there. you know he's there, but something about it just...helps.

"How much longer until you come to bed?" you ask, fully expecting him to give you the realistic answer that he doesn't know, and really he probably wouldn't.

he pauses, a deep breath following that you feel as Pierro's chest rises and falls once again, he then sets his pen aside, though mid sentence and clearly not even close to finished. Pierro once again shuffles his chair back, making enough space for his now free hand to come up beneath you to support you as he stands, bringing you with him now cradled in his arms.

he smiles down at you gently, and you're convinced he'd run a hand through your hair to tuck it away behind your ear if only his hand was free. you know he likes that, a little token of affection. "Let's go to bed now, and I'll finish this later." he says. you think you could've lived with sleeping in his lap for a night, though admittedly you like this arrangement a lot better.

you allow him to lay you back down, pulling the covers over you and leaving you to adjust them a bit while you wait, though when his back turns you shuffle your way over to the other side of the bed somehow hoping he won't notice you tucked up on his side. to your favour he doesn't for a while, though he's preoccupied with tugging his shirt over his head not exactly paying the most attention, not until he turns around does he notice a certain someone has taken over his spot.

"Oh? I didn't realise I was only getting this much bed. You don't leave very much room for me at all do you?" of course he'd play along when you make a face like you're trying not to giggle, though that promptly fails as he decides he's going to get you out by actually trying to fit, actually meaning he's about to sit on you and there's not a chance in hell the tiny sliver of bed is enough for anyone.

in seconds you're rolling over bursting out laughing to escape, though Pierro pulls you back kicking and squealing to kiss your cheek and try to settle you again before you rile yourself up. your antics are usually endearing, but seated on the edge of the bed having to turn himself to meet you halfway, he finds a little kiss on the lips is enough to get you back to your much calmer self.

"Do you want to sleep on my side?" he asks

"I want to listen to your heartbeat." you respond, leaning yourself forward in some attempt to-- rather uncomfortably-- press your head to his chest. "I like it."

"You can listen for as long as you like, as long as you calm down so you can go to sleep. It's late."

eventually he finds a spot in the middle of the bed, and you find that laying on him is far more comfortable, as well as ensuring that there's no way he can sneak off once you fall asleep to go back to his work. Pierro will be staying right where you hold him in place, head laying back on his chest where you can hear his heartbeat clearly. you were right, you do like it.

you are always afraid of losing him, you always have been, you don't think there will be a day when you're not. just as badly he is afraid of losing you, irrationally so as he has learned nothing is permanent. even peaceful moments like this can be reduced to ash in the blink of an eye, so he must cherish them. he must cherish you.

Pierro is more than happy to cuddle you this way if that's what you want, because really he wants it too.

[tales-of-kaylor]

You said you're going to the shows in Vienna right? Who are you going with and are you wearing costumes? What are your dream surprise songs? Sorry for all the questions, I swear I'm not trying to be creepy lol

Yes! I‘m going N1 with my wife (still can’t believe I get to call her that 😱) and N3 with my wife, my best friend, my brother and his girlfriend. My brother and my best friend gifted me Loverfest tickets for my 30th birthday and I was heartbroken when that got canceled 😩 I’m a little sad that we won’t be able to sit together because there was a purchase limit of 4 tickets BUT I‘m so excited I finally get to see Taylor!

For N1 I‘m recreating/combining Taylor‘s garden gate outfits. I‘m wearing a similar dress (but mine is yellow - because ☀️ ☺️) and a heartshaped purse.

I also found these eye theory inspired earrings that I‘ll wear. @9w1ft might appreciate those.

For N3 I‘m not sure if I‘ll dress up but I have a hat with a daisy on it ☺️

As for surprise songs, I don’t really know. I love them all tbh. Cornelia Street is one I‘d love to hear live and it’s fun because C & S are my wife‘s and my initials. King of my Heart would be great too because I love the bridge and my wife and I have been arguing over who‘s the king in our household for years 😂 And today I randomly listened to The Great War and Change and think that would make an amazing mashup.

But I know nothing about music and I‘ll leave it up to Taylor to choose (as if my blog was big enough to actually be on Taylor’s radar 😂). I just hope she chooses songs that she really wants to do and doesn’t just do them because that’s what we want. I‘m there for the fun and her story - whichever way she chooses to tell it 💛

[marvelstars]

I usually like to talk about star wars in general and I don´t like to demonize any character be it one of my faves or not but tbh some fan takes really make me mad, takes like:

"Ahsoka wasn´t being fair in her judgment of the Order"

I am like "The Jedi Council, Obi-Wan and Plo Koon included" sentenced her to face a military trial that most definitely was going to end in her execution.

Again, a 16 year old whose only support/family/people she knew in her life abandoned her to be executed by the goverment she fought for three years as a child soldier.

Sorry but considering this, any take she has on the Order, the obvious love she still has for Jedi´s ways, people and life but also the criticism is completely valid on her part and she should say it, in fact I believe she was quite calm in her reaction considering all of that.

Same with her warm dedication to Anakin´s memory as her "older brother" you know given he was the ONLY ONE who thought about getting her a lawyer and solve the mystery to keep her from being executed by their own government, he was her master and treated her like actual family and didn´t break his links with her after the Order expelled her on circunstancial evidence or thought she was wrong for leaving after all of that like Obi-Wan did.

There´s Jedi unreasonable hate and there is reasonable, based in the story criticism and this is part of it.

Another fandom take that really gets on my nerves is:

Anakin was a child problem for loving his Mom, his Mom was like a Jedi and understood she had to "let go of him"

I am like: Shmi was a literal slave whose only way to keep Anakin from sharing the same fate as her was to give him up to a bunch of strangers, Shmi didn´t know anything about the Jedi but knew being free was better for Anakin than being a slave.

Anakin loving his mother and missing her isn´t attachment, it´s normal for a 9 year old to miss his mother, he also had a right to be mad with the republic for allowing slavery out of convenience and with the Jedi for supporting the republic on this instance because it wasn´t jedi bussines.

"Anakin was an incompetent leader"

Anakin was one of the best Jedi leaders out there in the clone wars, that´s why He and Obi-Wan got the harder missions dealing with Grievous, who killed a lot of Jedi or Count Dooku who also killed Jedi.

He got the moniker "hero without fear" out of the sheer victories he got for the republic and the many planets he helped free from separatist attacks, he also established training for what would become the first cells of the rebel alliance.

He wasn´t just a competent leader, he was a brilliant general, recognized by his enemies and friends alike.

"The clones are not a slave army"

The Clones were purchased with republic credits by a Jedi Master, that makes both the Republic and the Jedi Order their owners, this is canon in Attack of the Clones and in the Clone wars.

They dont get a salary because they are merchandise, property of the republic and the Jedi Order.

The Jedi Order didn´t know about the purchase but the fact they didn´t say anything post fact about the clones being slaves doesn´t give them a good look as "peace keepers to the galaxy" they were more, in this instance, supporters of the status quo.

And no, nothing of this makes valid Order 66, the Jedi Order didn´t deserve to be anhiliated for all of this but the Jedi Order definitely were a flawed organization made up of people with virtues and flaws who unfortunately supported blindly a corrupt system. The Republic was the mother of the Empire after all.

I feel like sharing some of my problems with fandom takes, rant over :)

[txttletale]

bundletober #4: lit rpg set

now that's one lit rpg set. am i right. roll to smoke weed. nah the lit in this title is obviously short for 'literary', sorry to disappoint. today's entry for bundletober, (the cool rpg gimmick where rpgs fans post about an rpg they got off an itch bundle a couple years ago and never got around to reading and that everyone does and is like inktober and basically everyone, is doing it, and i didnt arbitrarily make it up at 11 pm on october the 1st this year), is xander hinners' lit rpg set.

okay so this is a very short (two pages!) game. or--as the name of the game implies--set of games! that's right, these two pages are actually four double-sided bookmarks, each containing a game to be played with the text (and sometimes physical paper) of the book you're marking. now i'm often kind of skeptical of ultra-short rpgs but i'm an absolute sucker for this elegant combination of subject matter and form. the bookmark format is not just an arbitrary formal constraint¹ but intimiately bound up² in the subject matter and play pattern of the games within. incredible stuff!

what i love about the games in lit rpg set is that they go all in in being games about books. you play them with books -- picking or redacting or interpreting words from the text are all made into key game mecahnics -- but they all also represent feelings you have about books. subtext treats reading a book as an adventure in a literal, rpg sense--shred treats the anger and frustration of reading a shitty book as a real actual psychic battle against the author.

what i really like about the four games in lit rpg set is that they do the best thing an rpg can do, which is make you think and ask interesting questions--they make you approach books as objects capable of something other than just being read, make you interrogate and interact with the book as a physical object, as a collection of words--or invite you to read actively, to take the passive setting of expectations and make a game of it. it invites you to create new and interesting relationships with books you love and/or hate, and i think that's really valuable. i'm honestly tempted towards an act of guerilla game promotion here--how cool would it be to just print these bookmarks out and leave them in random books in a bookstore? a book that comes with an invitation to play with it? i think it'd be magical tbh

lit rpg set and its free plaintext demo can be purchased as a digital download from itch.io

¹ which can be super fun and lead to really cool things, to be clear! but can just as easily end up being aimless and unfocused

² heh